The Twilight Year

Chapter Two -- 80's Bastard!

Harry barely made it though the Sorting and the Welcoming Feast. He was used to the whispers and stares that seemed to reach their peak at the beginning of each year, but this time was different. Instead of calculating, wondering, or sometimes disbelieving and malicious stares, the students of Hogwarts were shooting envious looks at him over their food.

He was acutely embarrassed over the scene in the Entrance Hall. Because of his scar, the supposed link between him and Voldemort, he still felt all of Voldemort's emotions, especially when they were close together. And because of that scar, that accursed scar, Harry had hugged Voldemort back, giggling madly because of the tickling on his forehead, and felt a single tear of happiness slide down his cheek.

"God! What? What is it? Does everyone want to be hugged by the Dark Lord or something?" he asked loudly halfway through dinner, slamming his fork and knife down. "Because I'm sure I could arrange it!"

"Well, Harry, you must admit," Hermione said, slicing into her lamb chop, "Professor Voldemort -- "

"Don't call him that!" Harry hissed across the table.

"is quite a celebrity," she went on, ignoring him. "I expect everyone will be jealous that you two are so close -- "

"We're not close!" Harry protested. "He murdered my parents and then tried to kill me -- how many times? And you were there for a lot of those!"

"Hush, Harry. All in the past," Hermione sighed placidly. "But what I was going to say, I expect this will be a lot like the year we had the Tri-Wizard Tournament and Viktor was here. Viktor was a celebrity and the attention died down after a while, didn't it?"

"Yeah," Ron said, stabbing his baked potato. "All you gotta do, Harry, is date Voldemort to get the attention off of him. Worked for Vicky, didn't it?" he asked in a strained voice, not meeting Hermione's eyes but looking rather pleased with himself for inserting his pet peeve into the conversation.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Ron, won't you ever let that go?" Hermione asked in exasperation. "And we didn't date!" she added vehemently.

"I don't know," Ron said, still not looking up at her. "Will you ever let Vicky go?"

Harry looked across the table to Ginny, who was sitting next to Hermione, quietly eating her food and trying not to smile.

As Hermione, looking very angry, opened her mouth to reply, a great hush fell over the Hall. Hermione snapped her mouth shut and turned to stare at the teachers' table with utmost attention.

Professor Dumbledore stood, raising his hands to encourage the silence. The candles and starlight twinkling down from the enchanted ceiling glittered off his long silvery beard and hair. He was wearing bottle green robes with sparkling silver crescent moons embroidered into the flowing material. This irritated Harry. His Headmaster was wearing Slytherin colors.

"Now that we've all eaten, I have the usual start of term announcements to make. As always, the Forbidden Forest is just that -- Forbidden. The Founders didn't give it that name just for giggles." Dumbledore began, looking straight at Ron, Harry and Hermione. "And as with every year, there are new staff appointments. Professor Grubbly-Plank and Professor Hagrid will be dividing the teaching of Care of Magical Creatures, as Professor Hagrid has new paternal duties to attend to."

"What?" Ron gasped, looking shocked. "Paternal duties? Does that mean -- "

"Of course," Dumbledore went on, oblivious to the surprised murmuring of the students, "I'm sure you've all read about our newest appointment in the Daily Prophet. I am very pleased to announce that our newest, and hopefully permanent, Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is none other than Voldemort!"

The student population of Hogwarts went wild, jumping up and cheering. Harry's scar tingled and he felt a surge of warm affection for the adolescents in the Great Hall. After a full five minutes of students, especially Slytherins, standing on their House tables or merely banging loudly upon them, Dumbledore waved them quiet again. Harry could have sworn he saw Voldemort blush.

Really, Harry was quite grateful when they were released from dinner and the students began making their way towards their dormitories. Halfway up the marble staircase, in a very bad mood, Harry felt someone grab onto his arm. Looking behind him, fearing to find Voldemort's face peering up at him, he saw Hermione instead.

"Harry, someone down there is calling your name," she said. "He sounds urgent."

Harry nodded and he, Ron and Hermione moved to the side to let others go past them.

"Potter! Hey, Potter, wait up!" Harry squinted in the direction of the voice and felt the need to get his glasses prescription checked when he saw who it was: Draco Malfoy, closely followed by a panting Crabbe and Goyle. They scrambled up the steps, knocking people out of their way to get to Harry.

"Hello there, Potter," Malfoy said pleasantly, stopping in front of him. "Weasley, Granger, how's it going?" he added, not really looking at them.

"Er ... hi, Malfoy," Harry said slowly, glaring at him suspiciously.

"Had a good summer, then?" Malfoy asked, smiling at Harry in a friendly sort of way.

"Not really," Harry replied, his eyes narrowed. "Incase you didn't notice, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is some evil bloke that wants me dead."

"Ah, petty rivalries," Malfoy said, waving his hand as if to brush the issue aside. Crabbe and Goyle nodded stupidly in agreement. "Speaking of petty rivalries, I think it's time to bury the hatchet, Potter, don't you?"

"Only if we get to bury it in your -- " Ron started, but Hermione, who was standing beside him, clamped a hand over his mouth. He continued to mumble under her hand, his eyes alight with the excited fire present only when he was insulting Malfoy.

Malfoy laughed lightly. "Ah, Weasley, you and your jokes. Anyway, Potter, since it's our last year and all ... well, I just figured maybe we could be friends. Fresh start and all. Things in the wizarding world are changing, you know. What do you say? Truce?" Malfoy asked, holding out his pale hand.

"Why are you being so ... " Harry trailed off, watching Malfoy's hand warily. "Your dad is one of the Death Eaters who turned against Voldemort. Why are you being so ... ?"

Malfoy shrugged and withdrew his hand. He pulled back the left sleeve of his robe, revealing a small red Buddha tattoo on his inner forearm.

"Don't tell me -- " Hermione gasped, taking her hand off Ron's mouth. "That's not the -- is it?"

Draco nodded pleasantly. "That's right. Always knew you were the brains of the group, Granger. But," he said, glancing around at the students still slowly filtering up the stairs. They were beginning to throw curious glances their way. "We should probably go somewhere more private if I'm going to explain this to you. A lot of people still don't know ... there's a broom cupboard just down stairs."

"I'm not going into a broom cupboard with you!" Ron cried indignantly, making several people stop and stare.

"No, Ron, I think it's alright," Harry said slowly, gazing at Malfoy in a very bewildered fashion. "Let's go."

Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle led them back down the stairs to the same cupboard that Harry and Ron had stuffed Draco's cohorts in back in their second year. Malfoy opened the door and they all filed past him. Shutting the door behind him, Malfoy came in and took out his wand. Ron, seeing this, whipped his own out.

"Chill, Weasley," Malfoy said, shaking his head. He waved his wand and a soft light filled the room. "Honestly, you're so tense," he said, his head cocked at Ron in a thoughtful manner. "All the Slytherins will be going to the lake at dawn to meditate with Professor Voldemort, and you're welcome to join us, of course. May do you some good."

Ron spluttered incoherently for a while until Hermione threatened to put a Silencing Charm on him. She glanced around her, saw a box of loo roll and sat down. "So what's this all about, Malfoy?" she asked.

"Well, it's a long story," he replied, leaning back against the door and crossing his arms over his chest. "But as I have to get up at dawn, I'll make it short. You all know by now that my dad is -- well, was -- a very devoted supporter of Voldemort's former cause, and that's what I was raised to believe in. From the time I was born, I was destined to take my own place among Voldemort's servants. But you probably didn't know that my birthday is in the middle of May. I turned seventeen near the end of last school term. I had reached my majority and I was old enough to take the Dark Mark."

"While you were still in school?" Hermione whispered, aghast.

"That's right," Malfoy said, nodding at her. "The night I turned seventeen, my dad owled some Floo Powder to me, and I went to our house. They'd planned a special ceremony just for me. At the time, Voldemort's conversion had already begun, but it wasn't out in the open. So ... I took the Mark. I vowed to be faithful to Voldemort and follow him always. It's a promise I fully intend to keep."

"But ... you have a Buddha on your arm," Harry said, frowning. "I've seen the Dark Mark before. It's a skull with a snake coming out of it's mouth."

"You're right, Potter, and that's what I got. But after Voldemort's Enlightenment, it changed to this," Malfoy said, rolling back his sleeve once more and running a finger over the tattoo, smiling fondly down at it.

"Just yours? Or everyone's?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Oh, everyone's. That's how all the Death Eaters found out at first. You know the Dark Mark burns when we're summoned?" Draco asked, looking around at the three Gryffindors. They nodded. "Well, when everyone's Mark started tickling, they all looked at it and saw what it had become. Since it was summer by then and I was out of school, I Apparated to Voldemort's side. He was by this little stream, in some forest clearing. Not exactly sure where it was. Anyway, that's when he told us about his conversion and his new plan. Some, mostly those of us who were younger and had just taken the Mark, agreed, and he handed out stacks of books on meditation and yoga, things like that. Others, like my dad and Aunt Bella, got angry and tried to attack him."

"What do you mean, tried?" Harry asked, leaning forward eagerly so as not to miss a word Malfoy would say. The Slytherin just might hand him a weapon in his fight against the Dark Lord. "He's supposed to be a pacifist. He's not supposed to harm others, but he did!" Harry said triumphantly. Malfoy had helped him in his first step to proving Voldemort was still evil and out to get him.

"Of course he didn't harm them, Potter," Malfoy said, looking scandalized and insulted. "Just because he won't attack others doesn't mean he can't defend himself."

"So what did he do?" Harry persisted. "How come the Death Eaters didn't figure out a way to kill him, if he didn't hex them or something?"

"He conjured a shield. A Psi Shield," Malfoy told them. "Didn't even need a wand to do it. He just sat there by the water, in the lotus position and smiled at them. All of a sudden, this great big golden bubble came up around him and everyone's curses just sank into it and ... disappeared."

Hermione let out a soft 'oohh' of wonderment. Even Ron looked quite impressed, considering that it was Malfoy handing them this news. "Esa princesa pequeña!" Harry burst out, his look of triumph gone, replaced with one of disappointed irritation.

"Good Lord, Potter! Forgive and forget," Malfoy chided him. "Anyway, they continued hurling hexes at him for a while, until those of us really loyal to Voldemort Stunned them. One of the truly loyal, that turned out to be Professor Snape, by the way, suggested that we take off our masks so we would know each other. Crabbe and Goyle's fathers were there, so was my Mum. I Never even knew she had anything to do with Death Eaters. Several blokes from the Ministry, Professor Vector -- "

"Professor Vector?" Hermione gasped, looking as if she were about to faint.

"Yeah, her, the Arithmancy witch. So, there were about a dozen of us all together. Of course, we were really concerned about Voldemort's safety. My dad, in particular, can be very vindictive."

Harry snorted. He thought 'vindictive' was a rather mild way to describe Lucius Malfoy.

"Head cold, Potter? Yeah, change of season does that to me, too."

Then, Goyle tapped Malfoy on the shoulder and pointed at his wristwatch, grunting. "Oh, Goyle says it's late and we should get to bed. I suppose he's right. So I'll make this quick. We talked it over with Voldemort and he had Snape bring him here to Dumbledore. So Snape did, he's here now, he's going to be the best teacher we've ever had and get used to it, Potter, or your Karma will suffer," Malfoy said with the air of someone giving a dire warning. "I know you're having a hard time getting over everything that happened, but really, you might hurt Voldemort's feelings with all that negativity. You don't want that hanging over your head, do you?"

With that, Malfoy opened the door and swept out of the cupboard. Crabbe and Goyle started after him, but both paused at the threshold. Crabbed looked back at Hermione, blushing furiously. Goyle sniggered into his shovel-like hand. "I like your hair," Crabbe grunted to Hermione, grinning in a dumbstruck fashion at her. "It's fluffy."

"Why you great, bumbling -- " Ron growled, starting towards Crabbe with his fists clenched. Luckily, or so Harry thought, Malfoy's face appeared over Crabbe's shoulder.

"Hurry up, you two. Let's go," he said, grabbing their arms and pulling them out of Ron's reach. "Honestly, they'll get lost if I don't take them to Slytherin House," he said, rolling his eyes and marching his two friends away.

The three Gryffindors sat, stunned, in the broom cupboard for a while longer, each feeling very different things.

Harry was disappointed at Voldemort's newfound lack of violence. Ron's ears and face were red and he was hissing threats under his breath; the same as he always did after a close encounter of the Slytherin kind. Hermione was still sitting on her box of loo roll, mumbling under her breath, over and over again, "Professor Vector? Professor Vector?"

By the time they made it up to Gryffindor Tower, everyone was in bed but Ginny, who had waited for their return. As soon as they clambered through the portrait hole, he tossed aside her book and rushed over to them.

"Where were you? Neville said he saw you talking to Malfoy! Are you all OK?"

"Crabbe said he likes Hermione's hair!" Ron growled and strode across the room, flung himself into an armchair by the fire and turned to look back at Ginny. "But yeah, we were talking to Malfoy."

Ginny stared at him for a moment, glanced at Hermione, then turned to Harry. "So, what did he want? Threatening you because of his father?"

"Just the opposite, actually," Harry sighed. He told Ginny, almost verbatim, what had been said in the now infamous (in their minds, at least) broom cupboard meeting.

"Well, that certainly fills in a lot of holes," Ginny said lightly, going back to her seat on the couch.

"Fills in a lot of holes?" Ron repeated indignantly. "Gin, this is Malfoy we're talking about, here! Who says he's even telling the truth?"

"Well, who says he's not?" Hermione asked, sitting down next to Ginny. "Honestly Ron, just because he's Malfoy ... "

"Oh, so you're defending Malfoy now?" Ron asked heatedly, his fingers curling around the arms of his chair. "Thinking of being unfaithful to Vicky?"

Hermione, looking as if she were at the breaking point, started to launch herself at Ron. Thankfully, she had to pass by Ginny to do so, and Ginny caught her round the waist and held her back.

"Quiet, you two," Harry hissed, striding over to stand in front of Ron. "You'll wake the whole Tower!"

"She's the one flying at me," Ron said defensively, peeking out from behind Harry. "Don't know why she had to defend that Slytherin slimball ... "

"Maybe because for the past six years, I've had to be the one to see reason when it comes to any situation dealing with the two of you!" Hermione said furiously, glaring at her friends. "And you -- " she spat, her eyes focusing on Ron. "Stop bringing Viktor into this. We're not a couple, we never were, what we write to each other is none of your bloody business, and he's just a friend!"

"Hermione," Ginny said weakly, still restraining her. "Calm down. It's just Ron -- "

"Are you using a Time-Turner again?" Harry cut in, eyeing Hermione critically. She had been perfectly calm when they spoke to Malfoy and Friends, aside from the shock of finding out the Professor of her favorite subject was a Death Eater. Now she wore that strained, edgy look of her third year.

"See? See what I mean," Hermione asked, looking back at Ginny and gesturing towards Harry and Ron. "We just got here! Haven't had any classes yet! Why would I be using a Time-Turner? I'm the voice of reason, I tell you!"

"Well, that much has been obvious since the first time I saw you three together," Ginny said, smirking.

"Thank you!" Hermione cried, flinging her arms up. She took a few deep breaths and said, "Alright, it's Ok ... you can let go of me now. I'll just sit down."

Harry watched her until he was sure she wouldn't spring out of her seat, then took the chair next to Ron's. They all sat in silence for several moments before Ron, his eyes darting to and fro about the room, said, "Sorry," very quietly.

"So," Ginny said looking around at them all, trying to break the awkwardness, "it's lucky everyone went to bed so early, huh?"

"Yeah ... yeah it is," Ron said. Then his head snapped up. He seemed to realize for the first time that there was no one else in the Common room. "Blimey, it's late," he said, giving a huge, fake yawn. Think I'll go to bed. I'm really very tired." He shot out of his chair like a bullet. As he passed by Hermione, he grabbed her arm and yanked her up. "So are you."

Hermione looked too taken aback to say anything as Ron led her to the girls' dormitory staircase and pushed her onto it, then slammed the door behind her. "Night Harry, Ginny," he said cheerily then disappeared up the boys' staircase.

"Er ... so ... " Harry said, staring at the knees of his jeans. "What's up, Ginny?"

"I'm thinking," Ginny said, staring at the spot where Ron had last been visible.

"About?"

"We really should do something about this, you know," she said, frowning thoughtfully. "For all our sakes."

Harry shifted in his chair, uncommonly uncomfortable. "Well ... uh, short of us getting married, I don't think Ron will ever -- "

"Oh, not that, Harry," Ginny said, laughing. "He'll get over it when he realizes it's never going to happen. But if we don't do something about them," she jerked her head towards the staircases leading to the dormitories, "either they'll kill each other, or we'll never have a comfortable silence again."

"Yeah, you're right," Harry said, gratefully grabbing onto the subject. He made a mental note to kick Ron in the jimmy for deserting him like this. "But what can we do, really? Short of giving them Veritaserum and making them confess their feelings for each other, I don't think anything will work." He laughed at the idea, but stopped short when he saw the contemplative expression on Ginny's face. "What? Ginny, no! We couldn't!"

She sighed and shook her head. "I know we can't ... but a simple Truth Potion ... not something as strong as Veritaserum ... "

"Now way, Ginny!" Harry cried, leaving his seat and throwing himself on the couch beside her. "No magic, not with this. Two people getting together is a magic of it's own kind."

Ginny stared at Harry, her mouth slightly open, her dark brown eyes wide with surprise. One of the dormitory doors creaked on it's hinges, an owl hooted somewhere in the distance, and Harry was very aware of how pretty Ginny looked in the firelight.

"But -- but," she stammered. "They're so stubborn. If we don't give them a little push, they may never get together!"

"Don't worry, they will," Harry said, nervously picking at his fingernails. "But we can't use magic to help them along. If they ever found out, they'd be upset with us and, more than likely, with each other. It wouldn't be completely honest then. Besides," he muttered, "it wouldn't be romantic."

Ginny blushed a soft pink and bit her lip. "I didn't know you were one for romance," she said, gazing at Harry, her eyes suddenly bright.

"Well, a little romance never killed anyone ... " he said softly, leaning closer to her.

"Damn straight," Ginny murmured and leaned closer to him, too ....

"YES!"

Harry and Ginny twisted around and saw a very elated Ron peaking out from behind the barely open dormitory door.

"Ron!" Ginny cried indignantly, springing from her seat. "How long have you been there?"

"Don't worry about that," Ron said smiling. "Just sit back down and go on with what you were doing. Just pretend I'm not here."

But Ginny, instead of sitting back down, marched over to Ron, jerked the door open to fully expose him, and kicked him hard in the shins. "That's what you get for spying on your sister!" she said as he hopped around, rubbing his leg. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight, Harry." With that, she spun on her heel and dashed up to her room.

Harry sighed, deciding he might as well go to bed also. Ron limped up the stairs beside him. "Guess I should have waited a few more seconds then ... " he muttered.

"What for?" Harry asked, blushing hotly, his stomach clenching.

"Gods, Harry, you're thicker than I am sometimes. But I've got to ask you," Ron said, stopping and taking hold of Harry's robes to make him stop too. "Who were you talking about getting together?"

"Crabbe and Goyle," Harry told him, and took the steps two at a time until he reached the door that said 'Seventh Years', leaving a very disgusted Ron contemplating the possibilities of that relationship.