Nox Noctis

Nox Noctis is a tale portraying both Good and Evil, with Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy exploring the two conflicting sides through their own eyes. Shall Good triumph over Evil? Shall Love emerge victorious over Hatred? Shall Friendship survive the ultimate test of Betrayal?

* * * * *

"Sirius!" Harry yelled, thrilled to hear that familiar voice again. Unlatching the door, he rushed out to meet Sirius but stopped short of hugging the man. Uncle Vernon was cowering in a corner of the room, his face purple with rage and fear. Sirius was dressed in a pair of trousers that only came down to his mid calves and a pinstriped shirt with a mismatched tie complete with a shocking red bowler hat.

No wonder Uncle Vernon was both scared and angry at the came time. The Dursleys never thought well of any magical folk, and they especially despised the entire Potter family. Harry cringed as at the memory of Aunt Petunia's harsh words about his mother came ringing in his ears.

"Hey there, Harry," Sirius said in greeting and Harry threw himself into Sirius' arms. "I see you have grown quite a bit over the past two months!"

"Sirius, I'm so glad to see you, but why are you here of all sudden? Is there something wrong with our application?" Harry added worriedly. Half-consciously, he threw a glance at Uncle Vernon's direction and shuddered. The older man didn't look too well and his bushy mustache was bristling like a pair of cat whiskers.

"Well, I just want to make sure that you are fine," Sirius replied simply and shot Mr. Dursley a look before turning back to smile at Harry. "I have brought you your present too, since your birthday is coming up soon."

"Thanks, Sirius," said Harry happily and accepted the large parcel. Walking back into his tiny room, he placed the wrapped package on his couch before he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Sirius?" Harry turned his head to look into those deep eyes. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

Closing the wooden door behind him, Sirius sighed heavily and sat down on Harry's bed. Flashing Harry a nostalgic smile, the older man patted his head. "Well, Harry, you will be 17 in a short while and it really amazes me that you look so much like James and Lily combined." Shooting Harry a wistful look, Sirius placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.

Harry didn't know what to say. With his eyes downcast, he fixed his focus on the floorboards. Harry knew that he looked a lot like his father, with that mop of messy black hair and a slim build. In the Mirror of Erised and during that duel with Voldemort in his fourth year, he saw his parents once, and it hurt him to think of them. At least he had Sirius now....

"Alright Harry, I'm not here only to talk about James and Lily. I'm here to see that you are healthy and growing strong. Grown quite a bit, eh?" Sirius began as Harry's uneasiness started to show on his face.

"Yes, you're right that I've grown over the weeks here. I have been living off grapefruit and celery sticks for every meal and it's a miracle that I'm still here talking to you," grumbled Harry and crossed his arms. His stomach growled softly again at the mention of food.

"Well, Harry, the school term is starting again in a short while and I'm sure you can't wait to get back to Hogwarts," Sirius chuckled and took off his bowler hat. His hair was getting quite long again but it wasn't matted or tangled, anyhow. "And then, I can sleep well in my bed knowing that Dumbledore can protect you adequately. Like it or not, Harry, you are safe here with the Dursleys."

"So Sirius, how is everything going? I really miss you over the holidays. Hedwig is always sending letters to Hogwarts and I don't have an extra owl to send you one," Harry said and gave Sirius a hug as a warm feeling settled at the pit of his stomach. *Having a Godfather sure beats living with an uncle, an aunty and a cousin who hate your guts,* thought Harry wryly.

"Fine... What about you?"

"I'm fine..." Harry turned to look at Sirius, his stomach forming a tight knot. Memories of the recent dream he had were coming back to him in a mad rush. Part of him wanted to tell Sirius what he saw, yet another side warned him not to add to Sirius' worries. At the thought of Malfoy becoming the latest Heir of Slytherin, Harry's heart did a small lurch. Maybe he was going insane from the pressure of being hunted by Voldemort and his Death Eaters ever since he had entered Hogwarts.

"Harry, are you all right? You look dazed..." Sirius' concerned voice came floating to him again and he shoved away the thoughts that were encircling him, suffocating him.

"I'm fine, Sirius. It's just that I'm worried about our Care of Magical Creatures class, that's all. Hagrid has taken a year's leave from Hogwarts to visit Beauxbatons," Harry lied and cringed. It sounded so stupid after those words came out from his mouth. *Sirius, because you are my godfather, I'm saying something as idiotic as this to let you go home happily,* he added mentally.

"Ah, Dumbledore has solved that problem. Guess who your new Care of Magical Creatures teacher is!" Sirius replied proudly and puffed out his chest.

Harry's eyes widened as his mind came across this very possibility. "Sirius, are you pulling my leg? You are going to take over Hagrid's job for a year? But I thought you have been working for the Ministry as an Auror for nearly over a year now!"

"I'm still an Auror, but I'm commissioned to be an undercover one. Who would you like better for this post: Moony or me?"

"C'mon Sirius, you know I like both of you..." Harry trailed off as his heart leaped for joy at the prospect of Sirius coming to teach at Hogwarts. With this, he would be able to see Sirius every day! But Harry's ecstasy soon turned to curiosity as he calmed down considerably. He wouldn't want Sirius to give up anything meaningful for him. "But why? I thought you hate being bound to responsibilities like teaching."

"Who says I like being responsible? I'm going over to Hogwarts because Dumbledore thinks that you need someone to keep a constant eye on you," answered Sirius and caught Harry's eye again. "Turning 17 is very important for all wizards as it is the coming of age. Dumbledore fears that You-Know-Who may take this opportunity to strike since your magical abilities will reach its height after your graduation from Hogwarts. Besides, Dumbledore wants me to work more closely with that git."

"Git?"

"Snape, that greasy git of a wizard," growled Sirius, his eyebrows knitted in a frown. "Dumbledore said that both you and Snape are always in mortal danger, and I am to act as backup if anything happens to you two."

"What is Snape doing now?" asked Harry, interested to know if the cold Potions Master was still at Hogwarts.

"Dancing arm in arm with Lucius Malfoy, perhaps," retorted Sirius sarcastically. "That git loves the Dark Arts, for all I know, and he wouldn't be wanting my help if he is still sane."

Harry stifled a grin but a twitch by the corner of his mouth showed. What? Sirius protecting Snape? Harry thought he heard Sirius wrong, but judging by the woeful expression on his godfather's face, it was true. Snape would rather take ten bludgers in the face than to let Sirius help him. After all, Severus Snape held grudges against people for extremely long periods of time, especially against James Potter.

What more was there to say? Snape practically hated Sirius' guts after one of his pranks nearly got him killed by Lupin. Or at least, that was what Harry thought so when it came to his understanding of Snape and Sirius' never-ending feud with each other. Anyhow, Harry hadn't doubted Dumbledore once and since the headmaster trusted Snape, Harry felt that he should too, albeit warily. Harry Potter had not been listed in Snape's good books from the very first day in Hogwarts. Then again, it was always a nagging doubt in Harry's heart that Dumbledore might be wrong.

Suddenly, another question dawned on Harry. "Sirius, why did Cornelius Fudge let you go to Hogwarts whilst you are still working for the Ministry? It doesn't seem like him to do that."

"Dumbledore did all the explaining for me; but something strange has happened recently. It seems that Fudge has been disappearing mysteriously over long periods of time, only popping up once in a blue moon," said Sirius, his hand grazing the short stubble on his chin.

"Fudge? What about his duties?" asked Harry, his eyebrows arching in curiosity. Unwittingly, a mental image of Percy Weasley wearing Fudge's trademark pinstriped cloak popped up in his head. After Barty Crouch died, Percy had been made the Minister of International Magic Cooperation and Ron once joked that maybe a Weasley could be the next Minister of Magic. Harry thought of it as a bad joke, though.

Well, not that Sirius liked Barty Crouch at all. He was the one who threw Sirius into Azkaban without giving him a trial and a chance to defend himself. It was people like Crouch who gave indirect opportunities to Voldemort to rise again; like he had let his own son walk free.

Then, Sirius' voice blocked his flow of thoughts. "One of Fudge's assistants took over. A middle-age man named William Hedge, I think. When I first saw him, I thought he looked very familiar and I have seen him where before, but he kept insisting that it was the first time we met. Very intelligent and witty fellow, I say," answered Sirius with a sigh. "It's very mysterious, really. As obstinate Fudge is, he is not the type to leave his office unattended to for so long."

"Fudge... is missing?" mumbled Harry, his eyes fixed on the wall opposite him. Suddenly, he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach and subconsciously, his recent dream began to flash in front of him. Those Dark Wizards had mentioned about someone in the Ministry Magic defecting over to the Dark Side; but then again, Fudge didn't seem like the type to be enticed by power. He was already the Ministry of Magic, the sole person who had autonomous authority over the entire British Wizarding Community. Well, legal authority, at the very least.

And no, it wasn't because of the Galleons factor, Harry decided. Fudge had plenty himself. With a hard mental shove, he pushed the concept aside. "So is William Hedge good at handling problems?" asked Harry weakly, the joy at seeing Sirius vanishing as his nasty dream weighed down on him.

"I'd say that he is a lot easier to convince than Fudge," answered Sirius slowly, his face showing concern at Harry's abrupt mood change. "Look Harry, if there is anything you want to tell me, I'm always here for you. Dumbledore has mentioned that your scar is hurting again..."

For a second, Harry was tempted to tell Sirius about the unusual vision he had had a moment ago, but it all seemed to be a mere nightmare after all. *How could Draco Malfoy be the Heir of Slytherin?* Harry reasoned and felt the unsettlement in his heart die down a little. It all seemed implausible and ridiculous, and it wasn't worth Sirius worrying his head off for a stupid dream like this. Well, he could Sirius the simplified version, right? Taking in a deep breath, Harry began to talk.

"I had a dream just now, before you came."

"What dream? What did you see?"

"Well, I saw a gathering of Death Eaters like Malfoy, Avery, Crabbe and Goyle. I saw Voldemort too, and he was recruiting Draco Malfoy as the latest addition to his team of Death Eaters," Harry said slowly, omitting important details like the rising of the Heir of Slytherin. It even sounded ridiculous to him now that there would be a serious threat to the world starting with the word 'Draco Malfoy'.

"So Lucius Malfoy finally wants his son to join the ranks of Death Eaters after his footsteps," Sirius sighed softly. "Evil will always be present among us. Sometimes, I wonder even after destroying You-Know-Who, there will be an end to all those Dark Wizards."

Breathing in sharply, Harry tilted his head to look at Sirius straight in the eye as he mustered his most confident look. "Sirius, don't worry about me. I'm fine. Voldemort can't hurt me here. Professor Dumbledore said so." As confident as he might think he was, Harry could still feel a twinge of doubt deep down.

"Alright, if you say so, but always remember to owl Dumbledore and me regularly. I want to know if you feel anything strange and I'll sleep better knowing that you are safe," Sirius replied with a sigh, his eyes betraying the curiosity in him to know more about Harry's dream. Sirius was an intelligent person, and he simply could not buy a simple story like that. Harry seemed obstinate and he was not willing reveal more details to him. There was no point trying to make him talk when he outright refused to cooperate. It was a wonder that James and Harry could be so alike in temperament since Harry had never known his father.

Shaking his head, Sirius stood up and adjusted his hat. "I think I need to leave now. Some of our contacts informed us that some Death Eaters had stolen a Dark Arts artifact from the National Museum of Magic and we need to get it back before You-Know-Who does something ugly with it," said Sirius and paused before continuing. "The break-in is all over the front page of Daily Prophet today," he finished and threw Harry a crumpled copy of the wizarding newspaper.

"Voldemort again?" Harry asked as he unfolded the copy of Daily Prophet. Voldemort. That name brought shivers down Harry's spine. He glanced at the headlines and the moving picture that accompanied it. There was an image of a flashing ball resting on a wooden tripod underneath the headline 'Orb Stolen from Museum'. Harry's eyes widened when he looked at the picture again. This time, the swirling colors in the orb had changed to a bloody red shade.

"Sirius, wait. Is this the Orb of Nox... Nox..." Harry tried furiously to recall the name that Voldemort had mentioned when he told Malfoy to touch it in his dream. Before he could think any further, a searing pain exploded on his forehead and Harry clasped his hands over his face, hearing his own voice scream out loud, slicing the air like a sharp knife.

"Orb of Nox Noctis? How do you kn..." Sirius started but Harry's sudden movements alarmed him. "Harry, what's wrong? Is your scar hurting again?"

Harry could barely hear him over the pain and his own screams. Weakly, he clutched Sirius' arm. "Orb of Nox Noctis... Voldemort... Draco Malfoy... Heir of Slytherin..." Harry tried to string his thoughts together but it all came out incoherently. Feeling Sirius grasp both of his arms, Harry let out a loud groan and stumbled as he tried to stand up.

"Harry, you are going with me to see Dumbledore now! Hold on tightly and I'm going to Apparate straight into Hogsmeade with you!" shouted Sirius and half-carried Harry. Closing his eyes in intense concentration, he muttered a short spell under his breath.

With a soft 'pop', Harry and Sirius vanished into thin air.

* * * * *

It was past midnight now, yet those steel gray eyes never showed any sign of fatigue. Silence enveloped him and the only source of light was from a dimmed lamp at a far corner of his room. The guests had left long ago and there was no-one else in the house save him and his parents.

He raised the wine glass to his lips, sipping in the bitter concoction. Ruby red wine ran down his throat as a reminder of the reality lying before him. Too many things had happened today and he wasn't sure he could believe that it wasn't only a dream.

He had envisioned himself becoming powerful one day; so powerful that everyone would say his name with fear and deep respect. Draco laughed and hurled the wine glass he was holding across the room, glaring at the streaks of red running down the pristine white walls as the fragile object shattered into a thousand pieces. Now, it was all a reality that no-one could deny.

Rolling up his sleeve for the tenth time, Draco stared at the silver tattoo of the serpent. Ruby red eyes stared back at him viciously, as if it was saying that only the Chosen One had the privilege to wear it on the arm. Its glittering body coiled along the length of his upper arm proudly and it had never failed to give him a sense of dominance and pride.

It was Salazar Slytherin's emblem, the symbol of one of Great Britain's most powerful wizards.

Draco smirked and rolled down his sleeve again. He felt different, after Voldemort performed the 'rebirth' ceremony on him. He had experienced the sudden surge of raw force through his fingertips when he touched the Orb of Nox Noctis, levitating him to unknown heights of magical power. Despite his earlier efforts to thwart Blaise Zabini from a lengthy conversation, Draco was no fool. All the time he spent reading and browsing through books in the Dark Arts had not gone to waste.

He knew that the Orb of Nox Noctis would see all, hear all, and sense all evil.

The sudden rush of events had left him breathless. One moment he was walking aimlessly among the guests, the next he was declared the Heir of Slytherin by Voldemort. The Dark Lord's explanation on his position as Heir was logical and Draco couldn't find any weaknesses which would prove Dumbledore correct.

Still, a stab of doubt kept on prodding Draco. Why didn't his father mention anything about the Malfoy family being descendants of Salazar Slytherin? If Slytherin blood could only be passed down through male descendants, why was the family name Malfoy used instead of Slytherin? What about the supposed Dark Arts abilities such as being able to speak in Parseltongue?

Great. He got so bored that he was playing Twenty Questions on his own.

Irritated with the monotony, Draco stood up and walked to the window. Pulling the lacy red drapes across, he pushed the windows wide open before proceeding to unbutton his shirt. Letting the night breeze caress his bare skin, Draco felt the familiar shiver tingle straight down to his legs. It reminded him of the wind whipping his face during a neck-to-neck race for the Snitch. Draco smirked, *I'm going to teach Potter a good lesson on Quidditch this year.*

Gazing at the starless sky, Draco began thinking about his future. One year ago at this time, he was wishing that he could join the ranks of the Dark Lord's Death Eaters. Lord Voldemort had promised each of his followers with immortality, tremendous power and immeasurable wealth; and that was more than enough to recruit old wizarding families like the Malfoys to ally with him. Draco had imagined himself in those sweeping dark robes and brandishing a Dark Mark on his left forearm.

After that, the wizarding world would be clean of Mudbloods and gits like Potter.

But it was different now. The Dark Lord had revealed his true identity and he had a mission now. True, Heir of Slytherin might mean nothing more than to scare off cowards like Neville Longbottom, but Lord Voldemort had made it sound as if he had been made to be the next Dark Lord after him.

And this made Draco Malfoy feel important.

All his life, he had tried to prove himself to his father. It was never easy, living in the Malfoy household. Ever since he started having memories of his childhood, it always revolved around holding a wand and memorizing spells. Since a tender age, he had seen all kinds of illegal spells performed, including the Cruciatus Curse and the Imperius Curse. Draco had this sneaking feeling that he might be able to do one since he knew all of the basic incantations required to perform such hexes and curses.

He was no stranger to the Dark Arts.

Who taught him everything? His father. Lucius Malfoy was his role model. Someone who he looked up to, not only in a way a child would idolize his father, but also to the point that he believed his father was the very embodiment of success in the wizarding world. The Malfoy clan was not only influential in the Ministry of Magic, it also commanded deep respect among the Dark Wizards.

And Draco strove to show his father that he could be like him, a natural leader with great power over others with intelligence to boot.

Draco gritted his teeth. He had worked hard trying to show his father that he was worthy of being considered to join the ranks of Death Eaters, but both Potter and Granger had spoilt it all. Stupid Potter in Quidditch, and Mudblood Granger in academics. Perhaps the only subject he truly excelled in was Potions, and that some Gryffindors had claimed that Snape favored him to Granger. Lie! Treacherous rumor! Draco never liked being second to anyone, much less being accused of getting unearned marks from his House teacher.

*Potter with his supposed bravery. That old fool Dumbledore even made us toast him at the Feast in Fourth Year,* Draco thought irritably and folded his arms across his bare chest. *I would have joined the Triwizard Tournament if father agreed to put my name in the Goblet of Fire.*

*Well, not that I didn't have my share of fun torturing Potter then,* Draco snickered. Rita Skeeter's article on Harry Potter bawling his eyes out was a gem and Draco never failed to mock his archenemy at every opportunity. Pansy Parkinson helped along the way too; she gave Rita another nasty article on that Mudblood Granger toying with Potter's feelings.

But Draco couldn't help feeling that he was being used by his father all the time. From a young age, he had been trained to follow his father with an imaginary leash around his neck. *Like stupid Muggle-owned dogs,* Draco thought irritably. He was starting to get tired of following orders from a person who he called father. It was always the 'Draco, spy on him' or 'Draco, gather more important information on this wizard' type of task he was assigned to.

Draco knew that his father was actively involved in the Dark Arts and even served Lord Voldemort long before the Dark Lord swept to power in the wizarding world; but his father was careful not to let him take part in any Death Eater gathering nor allow him more information on the activities notorious among Dark Wizards. Inner Circle or not, Lucius Malfoy was a careful person, and he trusted no other wizard, including his own son. No doubt his father trained him well in this field, but Lucius never once mentioned that he was fit to serve the Dark Lord. It was too abrupt this time, by letting Lord Voldemort reveal his true birth heritage and to let him handle such an important task.

All the while, he couldn't help feeling that there was a catch behind this Heir of Slytherin pomp. What would it be? Perhaps the Dark Lord wanted something from him in return. His life? What a morbid thought, but the Dark Lord was apt in the Dark Arts. And the Dark Arts used human sacrifice.

Well, not that he disliked the spectacle it created barely hours ago.

Very soon, Draco's muse turned back to focus on his main task this time: to find the Ring. A mental picture of the Ring flashed before his eyes. The Dark Lord said that the Ring could fulfill any desire and only the Heir of Slytherin could remove the Ring from its hidden place. To hide a Dark Arts artifact that small, it was tremendously easy, but the task of finding it would require horrendous searching and Draco didn't want to look into every single sewage hole for that purpose.

Draco began racking his mind for more ideas. The Dark Lord had mentioned that it was concealed in the Heart of Hogwarts, but where was it? Even after living at Hogwarts for years, he would still discover secret passageways and hidden chambers along deserted corridors occasionally. It wasn't as if he hadn't asked for more explanation. Draco decided that perhaps the Dark Lord didn't know the exact location either.

A soft knock interrupted the silent reverie. The heavy wooden doors creaked as they were pushed open. Draco turned around, only to see a tiny house-elf.

"Master Lucius wants to meet... meet Young Master in the study," the house-elf squeaked, its large green eyes widening in fear. Draco looked at it resentfully and sent it away with a wave. The house-elf scurried away in apparent joy that Draco didn't proceed to give it a tongue-lashing.

Walking away from the window, Draco heaved a heavy sigh. *What does father want with me in the middle of the night?* wondered Draco and sat down on his bed heavily. His mind wandered back to the Ring inevitably. Throwing on his dressing robe in frustration, Draco stalked towards the door and slammed it behind him as he exited the room.

The task wasn't going to be easy, an inner voice told him. The school term would be starting in two weeks' time. Until then, he would have plenty of time to construct a list of possible locations for the Ring whilst brushing up his knowledge of charms, spells and hexes.

* * * * *

It was drizzling softly in the darkness, and raindrops were running down his face in rivulets. Harry blinked open his eyes hazily. The partially hidden moon was high up in the sky and the eerie hooting of owls filled the air. The pain had subsided to a dull pounding in his head and he could hear footsteps trudging hastily down the mud-filled path.

"Sirius?" Harry groaned weakly. He couldn't see the person's face clearly since he was being carried on back.

"Harry, hang on. The main entrance to Hogwarts is just ahead," an urgent voice answered him. Harry nodded limply and tightened his hold around Sirius' neck. Just ahead, the lit lamps in the ancient castle shone brightly. They were already on the grounds of Hogwarts.

Footsteps echoed beneath him as Sirius climbed the flight of stairs leading to the huge doors. Picking up a brass knocker, Sirius started banging on the door, sending a thunderous noise. Harry heard scuffling of feet from the other side of the doors. Before long, a stream of golden light hit him as Sirius hurried into the main entrance.

"Harry Potter?" a croaking voice asked, accompanied by the soft purring of a cat. *Must be Filch, the Caretaker with his cat, Mrs. Norris,* thought Harry.

"Call Dumbledore quick! I'm taking Harry up to the hospital wing now!" Sirius' voice rang in his ears and the man broke into a short run.

"Sirius, please put me down. I'm fine now..." started Harry but Sirius didn't seem to hear him. Harry protested feebly again. Instead of slowing down, the footsteps were getting faster.

Finally, Sirius came to a halt and threw open a set of doors. Blinding white light washed over him and Sirius stepped forward to put him onto a bed. Harry sat up immediately and looked around. He was in the hospital wing at the head of a long row of beds which stretched down the large room. Sirius was panting heavily, drenched with rainwater from head to toe.

The doors swung open again, and this time, Harry looked upon the face of a tall and thin elderly wizard. With the familiar half-moon glasses and long flowing white beard, it was Dumbledore.

"Dumbledore! Harry's scar is hurting again!" gushed Sirius anxiously and clutched Dumbledore's robes. Harry could feel a blush coloring his cheeks as Sirius began telling Dumbledore about Harry feeling a terrible pain from his scar; albeit the fact that the dramatized version involving a dying Harry seemed to evoke a hearty chuckle out of the old wizard. When Sirius finished, Dumbledore turned to fix a concerned gaze on Harry.

"Harry, is your scar still hurting now?" asked Dumbledore, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. Whether it was really magic or not, Harry felt a steady flow of assurance and comfort seep through his shoulder, heading straight into his heart.

"No, my scar doesn't really hurt now," answered Harry quietly as he felt his cheeks coloring. Not to say that he wasn't grateful for Sirius' undivided concern for him, but rushing him from Privet Drive to Hogwarts in the rain was too far-fetched. Speaking of Sirius, Harry couldn't help feeling a tad frustrated at him. He could be so impulsive at times.

"But it did hurt just now, true? Harry, did you see anything through the pain?" Sirius nudged Harry quickly.

"No, I only felt the pain. When Sirius mentioned the Orb of Nox Noctis being stolen, my scar started hurting," said Harry haltingly. He didn't feel at all comfortable pouring out details of Voldemort trying to blow him into pieces during some strange dream.

Dumbledore and Sirius only stared back at Harry, bewilderment written all over their faces. "Harry..." Sirius started, his brows furrowed with worry and concern. Suddenly, Harry felt obliged to tell them about his recent dream.

"Professor Dumbledore, actually, there is something which I haven't told Sirius entirely. It is about a dream I had recently," Harry said haltingly, as he looked at Sirius out of the corner of his eye. He expected to see shock there, but Sirius' expression was one of a fatherly concern for him. Being around Sirius and Dumbledore made him feel protected and safe.

"Uh, I had this really strange dream moments before Sirius came to Privet Drive. I was in this room and I saw a lot of guests milling around a huge crystal ball. Then, I saw Voldemort, Lucius Malfoy and Draco Malfoy," Harry paused to look at Dumbledore and Sirius. He knew better than to hide anything this time.

"You saw Voldemort?" asked Dumbledore. Harry noticed that the twinkle in his eyes was gone.

"Yes, and he came in to speak to the people on the stage. After that..." Harry trailed off.

"What happened next?" pressed Sirius.

"Voldemort called Draco Malfoy up to the stage and he performed a spell on him. Just then, a serpent came out of the crystal ball and imprinted itself on Malfoy's right arm. After that, Voldemort declared that Malfoy is the true Heir of Slytherin," Harry spoke in a rush, his eyes darting left and right between Dumbledore and Sirius.

"Draco Malfoy as the Heir of Slytherin?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Anything else?"

"Professor Dumbledore, I think Voldemort can sense my presence. After announcing Draco Malfoy as the Heir of Slytherin, he said that this would mark my death and threw a curse at me. Then, I woke up and heard Uncle Vernon calling me," Harry answered, noting the eeriness of the entire dream. Unwittingly, a shiver forced its way down his spine.

"Well, it's not very likely that Voldemort can see your dream self, Harry," Dumbledore started slowly and paused for a while. "I think, you are performing a very rare spell on your own body subconsciously instead."

"Spell?" echoed Harry and Sirius together.

"Yes, a spell and it is called Astral Projection, where your soul separates from your body and travels to other faraway places," answered Dumbledore and smiled at Harry. "I hadn't thought of this possibility until I came across this forgotten spell in an old book I happened to be flipping through."

"So you mean that I actually saw Voldemort?" asked Harry tentatively, not believing his own ears.

"It is still difficult to determine whether you were dreaming or projecting your soul because one can't really know for sure, but if the Dark Lord saw you, he must have seen a soul-like projection," answered Dumbledore slowly.

"But I hadn't even heard of Astral Projection until..."

"It is possible, Harry, to experience soul separation without knowing any incantations or having a wand by your side. All you really need is to have a clear mind. Many ancient wizards also took Deadly Nightshade flowers to simulate a dreamlike state in their minds; that is, before too many of them died from Nightshade poisoning," Dumbledore explained and stroked his long gray beard. "Some ancient wizards do not use wands at all. In magic, the power of the mind is untapped as of yet."

"How would I know Voldemort's whereabouts?"

"Magic itself is a mystery, my boy. No wizard understands it fully."

"Then what about my scar? And that Draco Malfoy is the reborn Heir of Slytherin?"

"I don't know for sure, but there is a crucial link between you and Voldemort, and that the Malfoys are a family of Dark Wizards. Don't worry, Harry. I know what to do," sighed Dumbledore. "For now, go back to the Dursleys and wait for the school term to start."

"Professor, what about my visit to the Burrow? I promised Ron."

"For the time being, it is best for you to stay with the Dursleys instead of the Burrow," Upon seeing the disappointment on Harry face, Dumbledore smiled and patted Harry's shoulder. "Don't worry, Harry, I sense that Voldemort's days are numbered."

Harry wanted to protest, but upon hearing Dumbledore's stern tone, he could only nod in response. Clear emerald eyes gazed into Dumbledore's twinkling blue ones, and Harry suddenly noticed that the headmaster had aged greatly since Voldemort had made a reappearance in the wizarding world. *When will this terror end?* Harry found himself asking silently in his heart as a fresh wave of apprehension flooded his mind.

As if sensing Harry's inner turmoil, Sirius patted his shoulder and squeezed his hand gently. Harry found himself clutching his godfather's hand tightly in response, for the simple gesture seemed to have calmed down his troubled self greatly.

* * * * *

The study was lined with towering shelves lined with of heavy volumes. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows everywhere. A spark of both awe and fear never fail to ignite within Draco's chest every time he entered this room and he glided smoothly across the marble floor. His father, Lucius Malfoy, was leaning back in his big leather armchair.

*Father looks pleased,* Draco noted. As if hearing Draco's thoughts, Lucius Malfoy nodded at him and gestured him to sit.

"Draco, how does it feel to be the Heir of Slytherin?" asked Lucius Malfoy. Draco knew that he didn't need to answer that question. It was evident from his father's voice that it was the greatest honor he had ever received in his life in true Malfoy tradition.

Draco merely shrugged and crossed his legs in a lackadaisical attitude. "Doesn't make much of a difference. Being the Heir of Slytherin doesn't make me sprout an extra head or arm," he replied nonchalantly. *And it doesn't make me the Emperor of both Heaven and Hell like you do in the Manor,* Draco imagined himself saying, and he smirked. Lucius Malfoy couldn't do anything to him now, Draco was sure, so gone were the days of cowering in fright behind closets and under beds.

It was great, feeling powerful over powerful beings like Lucius Malfoy.

Questions were forming nonstop in his head. Draco was no idiot, and being accepted into the Dark Lord's inner circle suddenly wasn't very, uh... rushed? Doubt had been growing in his heart since he returned from the rebirth ceremony earlier on. They were not falling in place, those snippets of explanation he came up with whilst brooding in his room. Draco had the impression that the entire thing was a jigsaw puzzle with a few missing pieces - no matter how hard he tried, he wouldn't be able to get the complete picture.

"Oh? You are not happy being a true Slytherin descendent?" Lucius answered evenly, a hint of cold seeping into his voice. For a fleeting moment, Draco thought he saw confusion in his father's eyes and he felt a tiny surge of triumph in his heart. *I'm not a little boy anymore, father. I'm not the boy who you can order around without any questions. In case you don't realize it, I have gray matter in my head,* Draco whispered mentally.

"I never knew that all Malfoys are descendants of Salazar Slytherin," retorted Draco coolly. That was the thousand-Galleon question that was pounding in his head.

"We are."

"How did the family name change to Malfoy then?"

"Because we didn't want to attract unnecessary attention," answered Lucius Malfoy simply.

"Attention? I love to bask in attention," said Draco breezily, his lips curving in a smirk. "I'm a sun-loving lizard who adores handing out signed autographs," he added lazily.

"Salazar Slytherin was a powerful evil wizard of his time. Naturally, after his death, those White Wizards wouldn't want another generation of Slytherins to rule the wizarding world and many of his descendants were hunted down and killed. So, we changed our family name," Lucius continued, ignoring Draco's comment. For the first time in many days, Draco noticed that his father had looked younger. Was it because Draco was the Heir of Slytherin now or was it due to Lord Voldemort's newfound trust in the Malfoy clan?

If there was a thing that Lucius Malfoy desired most, it was power.

"Is that all?"

"Of course not. I want you to go to Diagon Alley two weeks from now. Harry Potter and his pack of loyal dogs will be there too. Find a girl named Ginny Weasley and bring her back to Malfoy Manor. The Dark Lord has something planned for her," Lucius instructed carefully, his steel-gray eyes mirroring Draco's. "Do you understand?"

"Why can't the Death Eaters go instead? You know I hate touching a Weasley. They taint me," Draco's lips twisted into a disgusted sneer at the mere mention of those Muggle-lovers he considered not fit to be wizards. On the other hand, Draco had no idea who Ginny Weasley was, although he was too familiar with Ron Weasley, that sodding git who trailed Potter like an obedient dog. At the back of his mind, a blurry mental image of Ron's sister formed and Draco distinctly remembered that she had red hair.

But then, Draco noticed that all Weasleys have flaming red hair sufficient to set anyone's head on fire. Other than that, Ginny Weasley did not ring a bell in his head.

"Because Diagon Alley is packed with Aurors and the Ministry Officers. They will be able to detect any Dark Arts practitioner in a whiff. You are... different. You don't have the Dark Mark yet," Lucius replied curtly and leaned back further into his armchair. "You will just have to dirty your hands."

"I don't have a choice, do I?" Draco drawled and snorted, rising to up stand up.

"No, you don't. And the Dark Lord wants her alive."

"Goodnight, father."

Spinning around on his heel, Draco stalked towards to the entrance of the study. This world was turning topsy-turvy, Draco decided. One moment he was celebrating his birthday, another he was crowned the Heir of Slytherin. The next, he was instructed to kidnap some Weasley back into Malfoy Manor. Shaking his head, Draco slammed the heavy doors behind him.

Unbeknownst to Draco, a pair of hard red eyes followed his retreating form keenly.

* * * * *

"Hermi-oh-ninny, don't go so soon... You still have two veeks of holidays," the slim Bulgarian Seeker Viktor Krum pleaded as he held on to her hand. Hermione sighed and looked into Viktor's black eyes. Ginny Weasley stood beside her, but had started to walk away, wanting to give them some privacy.

"I must go back to England now. I still have unfinished assignments waiting for me and also, I need to prepare for the coming term," Hermione said, and turned to pick up her luggage. "The flying train is here. Ginny and I need to board it before it leaves."

"Fine then... Come to Bulgaria next summer, vill you? My parents like you a lot, Hermi-oh-ninny," the young man whispered and clutched Hermione's hand tightly until the girl was starting to wince in pain.

"Alright, I'll see what I can do... Please thank Mr. and Mrs. Krum for the wonderful stay on my behalf and thanks, Viktor, for inviting me," Hermione said firmly and stood tiptoes to give Viktor a peck on the cheek. Disengaging her fingers from Viktor's hand, she pulled away from him. "I really need to go now. Ginny's waiting."

"Goodbye, Hermi-oh-ninny," said Viktor mournfully and pressed a small box into Hermione's hand. Hermione gave him a short wave and ran after Ginny. Grabbing Ginny's hand, she sprinted towards the waiting train and hopped into an empty carriage. Waving happily at Viktor through one of the windows, she plopped down on the comfortable couch as Ginny took her seat opposite her. A shrill whistle then pierced through the noisy din and the train started to pull away slowly from the platform. Gradually, the train accelerated and with a final burst of black smoke, it flew up towards the blue skies as it left the train tracks.

The last time Ginny glanced at Viktor Krum, he was still waving at Hermione although he looked more sullen and broody than usual. As expected, Hermione was grinning at him until he disappeared from view. Ginny sighed internally. Ron wasn't very happy when Hermione owled him to say that she would be going to Bulgaria to visit Viktor and she had invited Ginny along instead of him.

But then again, Ron Weasley hadn't been adept at concealing his personal feelings. Ginny could see very well that he had something for Hermione, and being Hermione, she just didn't seem to pick up those hints Ron dropped around her. Well, 'didn't want to' might be more appropriate to describe Hermione rather than 'didn't notice'.

Ron's infatuation with Hermione was very obvious, from the way Ginny saw Ron react to Hermione's decision to visit Viktor in Bulgaria. Sometimes, Ginny admired Hermione for being able to avoid and play dumb at Ron's attempts to confess his feelings for her. Again, Hermione was not a transparent person. She could be opaque, and she could also be extremely tuned-in to her surroundings at Hogwarts, and because of that, she knew a lot more about the student body than Harry or Ginny.

And as a last resort, he managed to coerce her into following Hermione, although she would prefer staying at the Burrow. Seeing Viktor Krum going mushy over Hermione made de-gnoming the garden look fun and interesting in contrast. *Ron, you owe me one,* thought Ginny aimlessly as Hermione took out a few Muggle mystery novels to pore over.

As the mountainous terrain dotted with sparse pockets of greenery rushed below them, Hermione's occasional shouts of 'I knew it! I knew it!' grew blurrier as time passed. Keeping herself awake by nodding occasionally to the other girl's exclamations, Ginny was immersed in her own thoughts. Staring glassily at the flying landscape, Ginny couldn't help feeling sorry for herself.

Hermione was a lucky girl, Ginny mused. She didn't only have Viktor Krum, the World Famous Quidditch Seeker melting into a puddle before her, she had Ron Weasley throwing temper tantrums because of her too. Meanwhile, she, Ginny Weasley, was a nobody among boys.

*And to think that she didn't even 'try' to make Viktor and Ron notice her,* Ginny thought forlornly. *The worst thing is, Viktor noticed her because she is a bookworm.* She turned slightly to look at Hermione. Ginny noticed that Hermione had a healthy glow to her cheeks now, instead of the pale complexion she used to have. Well, Hermione wasn't exactly the type of girl to play sports and Quidditch was out of bounds for her.

*The wonders that love can do to a person,* Ginny sighed softly. She didn't like Quidditch either, but took up the position as a Chaser for Gryffindor because of him.

Harry Potter.

A blush colored Ginny's cheeks as a mental image of Harry projected itself into her mind. Emerald green eyes looked back at her as she recalled Harry's words the last year. *Ginny, you may be a good Chaser.*

Ginny knew it was stupid to take up Quidditch just because Harry told her that she might be good in it. Ever since then, she had been playing for the Gryffindors and got hit by a few Bludgers already, resulting in a few broken bones and numerous painful bruises. Again, Ginny felt that being close to Harry made up for all those Quidditch injuries.

*Love is like a rose,* thought Ginny wistfully. *It is so beautiful and fragile, yet the thorns may prick you if you are not careful enough.*

True, it had been six years already and Ginny still couldn't overcome her crush on Harry. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. Harry Potter, the savior of the wizarding world; who every witch or wizard would acknowledge. Since she had been a child, she had heard so much about him, the legendary boy who had defeated You-Know-Who. Ginny simply couldn't believe it when she got to meet him in person and he was so humble, so kind, so caring, so brave, so loyal.... She could go on forever listing Harry's good points and never stop.

But then again, Ginny was depressed whenever she thought of Harry. He never seemed to notice her. He was always together with Ron and Hermione as the Fabulous Trio, and Ginny felt out of place while she was with them. It was as if she was deliberately left out of everything they did, with Ron claiming that it was too dangerous for her to join in. Worse still, trying to get over Harry by being friendlier with other boys in Gryffindor was near impossible. Ron was overprotective of her. Fred and George were overprotective of her. Ginny shuddered in fear and embarrassment at the memory of her brothers taking turns to warn Justin Finch-Fletchley after he asked her out on a Hogsmeade trip.

Three menacing redheads with their wands out were enough to scare off any sane boy. At times, Ginny couldn't help thinking that she might end up alone one day. All the while, she had always been the baby of the family; but then again, being the youngest of the Weasleys had its pros and cons, and the cons definitely included being shielded excessively by her brothers.

Finding someone to love was hard; but finding someone who would love you back was even harder.

*Perhaps Harry thinks of me as his younger sister,* Ginny thought bitterly as she pulled her cardigan around her tightly. *Why Harry? Why don't you at least look at me in the eye for once?*

No, it was not possible to fall in love with someone else after seeing the perfect embodiment of a dream in Harry.

* * * * *

Soft kisses rained on her face and neck as fingers snaked around her waist, drawing tender circles along her bare skin. She could feel her body responding passionately to those electrifying touches. Every contact was a pleasant shock and she started kissing him back fierily, moaning at the intense bursts of flames within her heart at each touch.

Her mind was in a daze, and she felt like she was floating weightlessly and soaring high up in the skies. Everything felt like bliss and joy. Tilting her head, she kissed the mysterious man back furiously, as if it was the only correct thing to do in the whole wide world.

*Do it... He is the right one... Just do it...* a soft voice whispered inside her head. She nodded helplessly at the command and drew closer to the delicious warmth his body was radiating. Heat seemed to seep from his skin into her body, and she imagined that she might die of coldness if she withdrew herself from his tight embrace, she imagined.

She sighed blissfully as a slender finger traced her jaw fleetingly. She couldn't see him in the dark, but she knew he was the one who loved her most, and he was the one she loved most. There was simply no explanation for it.

"Harry?" she began softly and the male voice groaned softly, as if trying to push her away.

"No... Don't touch me," the voice suddenly growled and she felt a pair of hands shoving her aside. More anguished groans and moans followed. Suddenly, she had an impulsive urge to turn the tables. Using all of her strength, she took hold of his shoulders and pulled him down next to her. Straddling him, she leaned down to kiss him passionately on the lips.

Jolts of unspeakable desire washed over her at the feel of his soft lips against hers. Before she even had time to set her thoughts straight, a pair of arms crushed her against his chest and returned her kiss with an equal amount of furious intensity, his fingers running through her tangled mass of silky hair.

*You love him... Tell him you love him...* the voice echoed again. *Tell him that and he will love you back as much as you offer yours...*

"I... I... I love yo..." Ginny started but was cut off by a sudden loud bang.

The door was thrown open and blinding white light streamed into the door. Two dark figures were silhouetted in the bright light and one of them started to walk towards her. She had to raise a hand to shield her eyes from the abrupt explosion of light, but the pounding in her head grew so loud that her eyes couldn't focus well any longer. Slumping back onto the bed, she hid beneath the warm body that was covering her. Falling locks of sliver-blond hair caught her eye, but a thick haze overtook her conscious. Her sight was getting blurrier as heat started to rise within her body and mind...

After that, she didn't remember anything else.

* * * * *

Coming up next chapter:

* * * * *