Year V

Chapter 21

"Of Secrets Revealed"

Jesse was looking forward to Quidditch tryouts, though he wasn't sure whether or not he would actually make the team. Unfortunately, Hufflepuff and Slytherin's tryout times had them sharing the field, but both houses had remained at their respective ends of the field. It also helped that Madam Hooch and Professor Sprout were there to supervise the tryouts which were fairly uneventful. Jesse actually did well and was informed by Zacharias that he had a good chance of getting a starting position as Beater. It wasn't until the end of the tryouts that things got ugly.

While Jesse was talking to Robert Hopkins about Beater tactics and defense, he only heard a cry of warning from someone and then IT happened. Before anyone could react, he had suddenly spun, small bat in hand, and hit the bludger that was sent at him while his back was turned. Jesse wasn't even aware what was happening until after the bludger had been sent back the direction it had come, nailing the large Slytherin student named Montague dead-center and slamming him against the wall. Full awareness hadn't returned until a couple seconds later when Hufflepuff students crowded around Jesse to hold off a group of angry Slytherins who wanted to avenge their fallen friend.

"That was uncalled for, McCade!" screamed Adrian Pucey.

Before Jesse could say anything, Zacharias Smith and Robert Hopkins had already stepped in front of him. "Back off," said Zach. "It was Montague that sent the bludger at him."

"And McCade only acted in self-defense," said Hopkins. "It's not his fault Montague wasn't ready for the bludger to be hit back at him. Guess that doesn't say much for your talent pool."

"Must be all that pure-blood incest they seem so proud of," said Jesse. "The inbreeding has finally shown itself."

The shoving match was just about to become a fist-fight when there was a loud bang and they all looked up to see Madam Hooch standing there holding her wand high in the air. "That's enough!" she snapped. "Break it up now or I will not only start handing out detentions, but I'll start banning members from both teams."

The threat was enough to convince both groups to break off, but it didn't keep either side from trading venomous glares. Jesse, for the most part, managed to meet the icy glares with one of his own which was a good thing since he was still surprised at what had just happened. He wasn't quite sure what had happened either, one moment he was talking to Hopkins about Beater strategy and then he was insulting Slytherin breeding the next. The moments in between were almost a blur that involved him reacting to Montague's attack. While he felt a sense of satisfaction about sending Montague to the hospital wing, it bothered him that it felt like he had no control over his actions.

Montague had attacked him, he reacted to the threat, and retaliated accordingly.

He stopped dead in his tracks at that last thought. Where the hell did that come from?

"Oy! Jesse...snap out of it."

Jesse blinked at the hand being waved in front of his face. "Huh? Oh...sorry Zach, just thinking about something."

"Like what?" laughed Zach. "Finding more ways to anger the Slytherins?"

Jesse shook his head. "Not much effort there," he said. "I think I anger them by simply existing. I'm just surprised that you and the others aren't yelling at me for what happened."

"You didn't cost us any points," said Zach, then a dark expression crossed his face. "Besides, they deserved it. They were literally laughing with glee when Cedric was murdered last June."

Jesse stopped short when he heard Cedric Diggory's name mentioned and glanced over his shoulder, half expecting to see the wayward spirit leaning against the castle wall. However, Cedric wasn't around. "Yeah, I heard about that," said Jesse. "You think they had anything to with his death?"

"If not them, their parents did. I know Harry Potter claims You-Know-Who had done it and he may be telling the truth, but if it wasn't You-Know-Who, it was probably one of his Death Eaters."

"Interesting theory," said Jesse. "According to the Daily Prophet and other sources, Harry Potter was responsible for Cedric's death."

"Potter may be an egotistical showoff, but he's not a murderer," said Zach. "I have no doubt he saw Cedric Diggory murdrered, but I doubt what he said about You-Know-Who."

"Well, as someone who has spent some time with the 'infamous' Potter and his friends, I'll have to disagree with you."

"Really? You actually believe his story about You-Know-Who coming back?"

"Not sure what I believe about that, but I find calling some dark wizard 'You-Know-Who' to be really annoying." Jesse stopped outside the entrance to the castle and looked around for a moment. He wasn't sure, but he felt like he was being watched. "But I'll tell you one thing, Potter's not the egotistical glory-hound people make him out to be. He's too busy fighting his own demons to give a damn about publicity."

"Hmmm...sounds like you're talking from experience there," said Zach.

"Maybe I am, but I'm nothing like Potter."

"Really?"

"I'm not the one being publicly crucified by the Daily Prophet and the Ministry."

"Give them time, McCade," snapped a voice from the shadows. Both Jesse and Zach turned and saw Professor Snape stepping away from a nearby wall. "I'm certain they would love to hear about how you nearly killed another student." The potions master glared at Zach. "Smith, I wish to talk to McCade alone."

Reluctantly, Zach left them and continued on towards the Hufflepuff common room. When Snape was certain they were alone, he turned back to Jesse. "I thought we had an agreement."

"We did, and I honored that agreement," said Jesse as he folded is arms across his chest. "I was not in the castle, I was out of your sight, I acted in self-defense, and I have a couple faculty members who are more than willing to back me up as witnesses."

"You broke Montague's ribs."

"It was an accident, just like he accidentally hit a bludger at me when my back was turned." Jesse didn't bother hiding the smirk on his face. "I only sent the bludger back at him. It's not my fault he wasn't ready for it."

"You're walking a very thin line, boy," Snape growled. "However, I will merely deduct points for this infraction. After all, you did follow our agreement to the letter."

"Wow, you certainly showed me."

"I'm warning you, McCade." Snape reached into his cloak and pulled out his wand, but Jesse only laughed at him.

"Or what? You're going to curse me? Not much more you can do to me, Professor. Your good friend Lucius Malfoy saw to that." Jesse then turned and started to walk away, but stopped and looked over his shoulder. "But don't worry, Professor, our agreement still stands."

He then continued down the corridor, not bothering to look back.

* * * * *

"I appreciate your concern, Severus," said Dumbledore as he leaned back in his chair and looked across his desk at Snape. "And I do agree that young McCade does have some issues that need to be resolved."

"Issues?" Severus didn't bother hiding his displeasure behind the usual mask of cold detachment he wore when talking to the headmaster. "Headmaster, the boy is a sociopath who nearly killed one of my students! I told you bringing that half-breed killer into this school was not wise."

Dumbledore frowned slightly and blinked. "Killer? Has Jesse McCade actually killed someone?"

"Well, no...not yet, but it's only a matter of time, he is his mother's son, after all."

"Careful, Severus." The expression on Dumbledore's face suddenly darkened and Snape actually saw a cold glint in the old man's eyes. "You do not want to take this discussion in that direction."

"I have no choice in the matter, Headmaster," said Snape, who was starting to feel more than a little uncomfortable at the headmaster's expression. "The boy's mother was an assassin...a mage-killer. And I have no doubt that his Guilder abilities are starting to surface. It's bad enough that he's an Elemental, but if he chooses to follow his heritage..."

Dumbledore cut him off with a wave of his hand. "And if he were aware of his true heritage, that would be cause for worry, however, I know the memory-block we placed on him is still in place, and Simone McCade has not broken her vow to keep silent. However, I wouldn't be surprised if she taught him a few non-lethal curses to protect himself."

"Hold on...what are you saying? McCade doesn't know what he is?"

"Jesse McCade knows that he is an Elemental and half-Guilder, but he does not know the specifics of his mother's heritage."

"He doesn't know?" repeated Snape, still reeling from that revelation.

"I do believe I already said that, Severus," said Dumbledore. He rose behind his desk and then looked out a nearby window. "Lucius triggered something that should have remained dormant, and when we reconstructed young McCade's memories, we placed those blocks to prevent those triggered memories from resurfacing. However, I suspected that it was only a temporary solution and as he matured, the boy's Guilder heritage would start to 'seep through the cracks' as it were." He glanced back at Snape. "That is the other reason I brought him here...to help him get through this change. However, the recent events on the Quidditch pitch tell me that the mental-blocks have eroded further than I could have imagined."

"And what happens should the boy realize his heritage?"

"It will be our duty to prevent him from following in the footsteps of his ancestors."

"And if we cannot?"

Dumbledore sadly shook his head and sighed in resignation. "That is why you have procured the basilisk venom, Severus. Should he turn on us...we will have no choice."

Snape stood there in shocked silence. While he didn't care much about Jesse McCade, he was more surprised by the headmaster's willingness to exercise the 'final option'. There had been times when he had thought the headmaster weak in regard to the Dark Lord's return, but he could sense the finality in Albus Dumbledore's words. Snape had been wrong, the headmaster did see the danger posed by the boy.

The potions-master bowed his head slightly. "As you wish, Headmaster."

* * * * *

Harry hadn't planned on spending Saturday morning in the library, Saturdays usually meant Quidditch practice followed by a frantic Sunday of catching up on homework. But instead of hitting the Quidditch pitch for an early practice session like he and Ron had planned, they were dragged by Hermione to the library immediately after breakfast. When Harry had mentioned what he had overheard Snape say about McCade, it was as if he had triggered a switch.

"Of course!" Hermione almost shouted at breakfast. "That explains a lot."

Before either of them fully realized what had happened, Ron and Harry were sitting at a table in the library as they watched Hermione go through the first of a pile of old dusty books she had grabbed off the shelves.

While Hermione was searching through the book, Harry turned to Ron. "Okay, what just happened and how did we get here?"

Ron only shrugged. "Not sure...one second I was sitting in the Great Hall eating bacon and I'm here the next. You just had to set her off, didn't you?"

"Be quiet, both of you," said Hermione. "This might reveal something about McCade."

"Other than the fact that he's a git?" asked Ron. "Hey, he might have some redeeming qualities, but he's still a git."

"Hermione, don't you think you're taking this thing with McCade a little too seriously?" asked Harry. "I know you might be angry with him for the way he disrespects your authority, but he really hasn't done anything to harm us."

"Hate to say it, Hermione, but Harry's got a point," said Ron. "Granted, he did drop one of his 'Devil's Drops' into your juice, but I'm starting to think he let you off easily."

"That's interesting," said Hermione. "When we first met him, you didn't like him at all and now you're defending him."

"I'm not defending him, Hermione. I'm more concerned about what will happen if you push this thing any further. You heard what he did to Montague in Slytherin, right?"

"Accidents happen in Quidditch all the time, you've always said that."

"Not like his Hermione." Ron dropped his voice to a whisper when he noticed Pince the librarian glaring in their direction. "When someone gets hit by a bludger, yes...they're probably going to get hurt or knocked out cold, maybe get few broken bones, but not like this. Several of his ribs were broken, as was his back when he hit the wall from being hit, and there were talks that a lung was possibly punctured. Hermione...McCade nearly killed another student...and now you're trying to dig up some information on him." He shook his head. "Not a good idea."

"Don't tell me you're afraid of him," said Harry.

"I'm not afraid," snapped Ron, "but I'm not stupid either."

"The jury's still out on that one, Weasley," said an all-too familiar voice. All three of them looked up and saw Jesse McCade leaning against a wall and holding a book that Harry recognized as Moste Potente Potions from the restricted section. "You three really should be less conspicuous...especially when someone has really good hearing."

"What are you doing here, McCade?"

McCade gave Hermione smug grin as he slightly tilted his head to the side which, for some reason, gave Harry the impression of a snake closing in for the kill on a defenseless mouse. "Actually, Granger, I was here before you arrived. But I have to admit, I was curious when you hit the "Wizarding Cultures" section and your conversation was really interesting." He stepped up to the table and looked at the cover of the book Hermione was reading. "Hmmm...'Wizarding America, A Nation Divided'...interesting book, Granger. Hard to find in the world-wide community, and nearly impossible to find since it's banned in the States. And what other books do you have here? Hmm...'The Shamans Remembered', 'Remnants of the Past, Pariahs of the Present'...trying to figure me out?"

To her credit, Hermione didn't show fear. "I suspect that you're not a 'Colonial', McCade."

"Wow...very good Granger...care to enlighten us," McCade paused for a moment as he gestured to himself, Harry, and Ron in a way reminded Harry of a mocking imitation of Snape, "with your suspicions?"

"When we first met, you mentioned something about the Guilders and the Shamans...two groups we barely even touched on in our History of Magic classes. When talking about American Wizards, they focus mostly on the Colonials-"

McCade held up his hand and cut her off. "Before you put us all to sleep with a speech, let's cut right to the point, Granger. Just ask me some questions about my background and I'll answer them."

"Are you a Guilder?"

"No," said McCade. "And I'm not a Colonial or a Shamanic either."

"Then what are you?"

For a moment, the cold confidence on McCade's face wavered for a moment before sliding back into place though the sadness still hadn't left his eyes. "A stranger to most, an outcast to others. Just leave it alone, Granger...even though I've been dragged into your world, I don't think any of you want to be pulled into mine. Any other questions?"

"That wasn't a straight answer."

"No, it wasn't, but it was truthful."

"Fine," said Hermione who realized she wasn't going to get any more information on that subject. "Next question, why do you have a book from the restricted section?"

McCade smirked at her again. "That's not exactly about my background and it's really none of your business, but I'll tell you because I really don't want you tattling on me to McGonagall." He opened the book back up and handed it to her. "Looking for sleeping potions or anything that can block dreams or memories."

"Why?"

"Now that, Granger truly isn't any of your business, but if it makes you feel better, it's for myself, not to be used on others."

Harry suddenly remembered that day in Diagon Alley after he, Ron, and Jesse had stopped the attack on Quality Quidditch supplies.

Both spells hit the glowing gem at once, stopping the incoming stream of flame and causing it to flicker violently before it exploded into glowing fragments. Almost immediately, the wall of flames died out and the fireball engulfing Jesse dissipated.

"Whoa," said Ron, "it worked."

"Yeah," said Harry, who limped over to where Jesse was sprawled out on the ground, twitching. "Ron, give me a hand."

They rolled Jesse over and Ron cursed loudly. "Bloody hell!"

Jesse's face and front were covered with blood and both of his arms and legs were severely contorted, as if he had experienced some sort of massive muscle spasm. His eyes were glassy and he kept muttering to himself, "not real...not real...the pain's not real..."

Ron shook his head and looked back at Harry with a mixture of confusion and shock at what he had seen. "Harry...what's going on? Who did this? What did they do to him?"

"I don't know Ron," said Harry. "I really don't know."

"Dealing with your 'demons', McCade?" asked Harry.

McCade smiled and nodded. "Something like that." He started to walk away, but stopped and turned back to face Hermione. "One last thing...Granger. I know you're a good person, despite being a bossy know-it-all, which is why I'm telling you now...drop it."

"Is that a threat?" asked Harry.

McCade shook his head. "No, Potter, it's a friendly warning. With a dark wizard coming after you, you don't need the extra trouble."

Hermione pushed the book aside and looked at McCade. "And if I don't 'drop it'? What then?"

Harry was expecting McCade to sneer and throw a thinly veiled threat at Hermione, but the other boy surprised him by sadly shaking head, a haunted look in his eyes as he spoke. "You don't want to get caught in the middle of this, Hermione, trust me." Then, without another word, he turned and made his way toward the front of the library.

"Well that was interesting," said Ron. "I was expecting him to curse you or something. So are you going to 'drop it'?"

"No," said Hermione, shaking her head. "We still need to get him to lift that curse off Umbridge."

"Hermione, we don't know if he actually cursed her..."

Both Ron and Hermione's voices faded into the background as Harry looked at some of the symbols in the book she was reading. One particular symbol showed a falcon in flight that caught his attention...and then that's when his scar started to prickle. "Hermione, what are these?"

Hermione broke off her conversation with Ron and looked over at the symbols Harry was pointing to. "Oh...those are some of the coat of arms of various clans within the Guilds. Why?"

Harry looked more closely down at the falcon. "I don't know, this one seems familiar somehow..." His scar started to prickle again and then the world suddenly rippled away, taking him from the library into a different place.

"I don't like this, my lord," said a young woman wearing a dark cloak. The hood was down and her blond hair dropped past her shoulders. As she brushed her hair out her face, the tattoo of a hawk could be seen on her wrist. "Severus' information was incomplete."

The familiar cold voice of Voldemort chilled Harry to the bone.

"I trust Severus' judgement in this matter, Simone. And it is not your place to question my decision."

"I am aware of that, but there is much we do not know. This Prophecy-"

"Is the key to our victory. I know that you distrust prophecies, but Dumbledore took great pains in an attempt to keep it secret from me."

"Perhaps," said Simone as she stepped closer towards Voldemort. "But it could also be a trap...allow me to kill the Potters."

"No!" hissed the Dark Lord as he turned his back on her.

Voldemort's sharp reply would have made his Death Eaters cower in fear, but the woman only bowed her head. "Very well, my lord, I understand...forgive me...SHIVIS!"

The jagged bolt of mystical energy stabbed him in the back, impaling him, before partially protruding through his chest. Voldemort stumbled forward as the pain ripped through his body, but managed to remain standing as he reached up to his chest and grabbed at the magical shard. With great effort, he pulled on it, managing to pull it out of his body. He held the glowing shard in his hand and allowed himself a tiny smile before suddenly turning and throwing it back Simone, impaling her in the stomach. The young woman dropped to the ground, writhing in agony as the shivis curse triggered pain in almost every nerve center of her body.

"That was foolish, Simone," said Voldemort as he walked up to the woman who managed to bring herself back to her knees. He kicked her dropped wand away and knelt down, gently grabbing her by the chin. "If any of my Death Eaters attacked me in such a way, I would have killed them, but then again...they fear me too much to even dare such a thing." Then his voice softened a little. "But I must admit, this is an unusual situation...you attacked me out of blind loyalty...you really do believe this is a trap. However, what you don't know is that I have the means to break their magical protection...something you did not know."

"Don't....go..." Simone managed to rasp. She tried to bring herself to her feet, but more pain shot through her body, knocking her back to the ground.

Voldemort stood up and looked down at her, feeling a little pride as he spoke. "Even though your father shunned you, you still continued your training on your own...this pleases me. It is ironic, and a fitting punishment for raising your hand against me, that your power is so strong that it will keep that shard active for several hours. When I return, we will forget this ever happened, and continue with our plans...and then, perhaps I will restore your birthright. Even your father won't deny me this when we've succeeded."

He then turned and walked away towards the entrance of the small cavern...to his destiny. Tonight, the Potter boy would die...

"Harry?"

The world suddenly shifted around Harry, blurring for a moment before he found himself back in the library. He wasn't quite sure how or why, but he knew what he had just witnessed one of Voldemort's memories. However, that realization did little to quell that nausea that threatened to overwhelm him as he looked up at Ron and Hermione.

"Harry," said Ron again. "Are you all right?"

"Hermione," Harry said weakly as he leaned heavily on the table for support. "Did you buy that book that McCade's parents wrote?"

"Yes, I have it here in my bag. Why?"

"Let me see it."

"I don't see what this-"

"Just give it to me!" he snapped. Hermione looked a little frightened as she pulled out her copy of 'Lost Civilizations and Artifacts of the Wizarding World' and handed it to him. Harry turned the book to the last page that talked about the authors of the book and provided a picture. "Oh...god...." he said as he dropped the book back on the table. The picture of Devin and Simone McCade looked up at him, smiling at the unseen photographer. He felt his legs start to give out from underneath him and managed to slide back into a chair. He looked back at the picture of Jesse's mother...yes, she was a little older than what she was in that memory, but there was no mistaking that blond hair, the facial features, or that hawk symbol that was on her wrist.

"Harry...what is it?"

Harry was silent for several seconds before he answered Ron. "I'll be fine," he said, rubbing his scar that still prickled faintly.

"No you aren't," said Ron. "You had a vision or something, didn't you?"

"What was it?" asked Hermione.

"Jesse's mum..." Harry managed to say. "She was going to kill my family that night...."

* * * * *

"Okay, tell me again why we're here," said Pansy as she and Draco made their way towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest late in the afternoon. Crabbe and Goyle, as always, followed a few feet behind them like a couple of bodyguards though she could sense their fear as they passed by the Groundskeeper's hut. She would have thought it amusing that they looked like they were about to run at the first sign of trouble...would have thought it amusing if she wasn't frightened herself. She knew that dark things lived there.

Though he showed signs of fear as well, Draco Malfoy also looked determined. "I'm looking for answers," he said after a few moments of silence and they entered the forest. They stopped after a minute or two of walking. "This is where he said we would meet him."

Though they were only several meters into the forest, and she could see the sunlight through the trees that illuminated the school grounds, Pansy still felt a cold chill. "Well, he's not here. I can't believe I let you talk me into this...walking into the Forbidden Forest to meet some eccentric blind old man."

"Hmmm...eccentric," said an amused voice from the shadows. "That must be old-worlder for 'senile and crazy'." They all turned in the direction of the voice and found an old black man with slightly graying hair leaning against a tree they had just passed. He limped forward with his cane and then nodded at Draco. "Good to see you, young Malfoy...if you'll pardon the pun."

"Dimitrias," said Draco, smiling as he shook the old man's hand. "I'm glad you came."

"An interesting place you have here, my friend. This Forbidden Forest has some interesting creatures, even more interesting than back home." Dimitrias paused for a moment and 'looked' in the direction of Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle. "I sense you didn't come alone."

"No. Crabbe and Goyle tend to follow me where I go and Pansy...well..."

Dimitrias smiled at that. "She has feelings for you, doesn't she?"

"That is none of your business," snapped Pansy.

The old man turned in her direction, a smile on his face. "It's quite obvious, my dear, that you seem a little..." his voice trailed off for a moment as he paused, almost as if he was listening for something. "This is interesting, I sense power untapped....but that is not why I'm here, is it?"

Draco shook his head. "No...although I'm interested in that last comment, I'm more interested in what you can tell me about my father's past."

Dimitrias returned his attention to Draco and smiled. "Run afoul of the McCade boy, have you?"

"What do you know about it?"

"Plenty," said Dimitrias, "but I'm not sure how much I can tell you."

"Did my father tell you not to say anything?"

The old man chuckled and shook his head. "Your father? Now that is amusing. I know that he might think himself as a force to be reckoned with, but your father is merely a glorified lackey sucking up to the Dark Lord for just a sip of power."

Draco ignored the shocked gasps coming from Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy, despite Dimitrias' somewhat vulgar comment about his father. Vulgar...but accurate. "What can you tell me?"

"All I can really say is that your father did something that cost the Dark Lord two important allies. His actions convinced them to abandon the cause." Dimitrias paused for a moment, obviously contemplating what he should say next. "Ten years ago, your father had paid these people to locate something called 'The Stiehl'...also known as the 'Silencer of the gods'. They had managed to track its location, and that was when your father decided to kill them off. He wanted the artifact for himself alone and tried to kill the man in the catacombs of Italy. The woman, he tracked down to Isola Bella and tried to torture the location of the artifact from her."

"So what does this have to do with McCade?"

"I'm getting to that, young Malfoy, don't rush me." Dimitrias shook his head again. "You young pups...always wanting everything now...as I was saying, your father tried to torture the woman for the location of the Stiehl, but she wouldn't talk. Knowing that repeated use of the Cruciatus curse would permanently destroy her mind, your father decided to try a new tactic to get her to talk...by torturing the couple's five year old son."

Pansy managed to stifle her surprised gasp, but Draco barely managed to hold back the bile that was starting to form in his throat. He knew his father had done some nasty things as a Death Eater, and that didn't bother Draco...but using a Cruciatus on a child...that's when it all clicked into place. "The couple," he said after a few seconds of silence. "They were McCade's parents, weren't they? And the boy...that was McCade."

Dimitrias slowly clapped his hands in mock applause. "Very good, Master Malfoy. Now you know why the 'Yank' seems intent on making you his personal punching bag...all thanks to your father. That is all I know. I'm sure there are more details, but only your father can provide you with that."

"He told you all this?"

"No...I got that from the Dark Lord. He may not think it wise of me to give you this information, but it's not like you can use it against him."

"Then what am I to do with it?"

"I guess it all depends on you, boy. You wanted to know why McCade was coming after you, I told you." Dimitrias grinned at him. "Of course, you could try tormenting Jesse McCade with this knowledge...but given his bloodline, he'll probably put you in a bodybag."

"Then what good is this information to me? I mean, if it doesn't help, what's the point?"

"The question you should be asking yourself, Draco, isn't what good is this information to you, but where does this trail lead?" Dimitrias' smile faded. "Your father originally contracted the McCades to locate the 'Silencer of the gods', but when the Dark Lord was in power, he didn't even know of its existence. And when he did learn about it, he had two of the Dark Lord's closest allies track it down for him, and, when they had located it, tried to kill them. That action alone tells me that your father was not doing this for 'the cause', and did not want other followers of the Dark Lord to know what he was up to. How did your father learn of the Stiehl and what is he planning?"

Draco didn't like where this conversation was headed. "Are you saying my father is plotting against the Dark Lord?"

"At the moment...no."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Though Draco knew the old man's eyes were long gone, he couldn't help feeling the old man was staring intently at him from behind those dark spectacles he wore. "I'm not going to soften this for you, Draco," Dimiatrias said after a moment of silence. "I doubt your father's loyalty to anything except to power. At the moment, your father is currently serving Voldemort once again, but that's more out of fear and the desire to cover up his duplicity. However, I truly believe that the one told him about the Stiehl, and no doubt offered him more power than Voldemort, is still out there. Whether or not your father still serves them...well...we will learn which side he truly supports in due time."

"What are you saying? That my father is serving the other side...helping Dumbledore?"

Dimitrias laughed, shaking his head as he did so. "Of course not, but what makes you think Dumbledore is the only one out there? There are others out there who oppose the Dark Lord, including those who attacked Diagon Alley."

Draco flinched for a moment as he remembered that day in Diagon Alley. "But they used the Dark Mark and everyone is saying that might have been a rogue group of Death Eaters."

"But you don't believe that, do you?"

"Of course not," said Draco. "I overheard my parents and others talking...they don't know who was behind it. But my father's been called to the Ministry a few times for questioning."

"I am aware of that," said Dimitrias, a thoughtful look on his face. "And your father was even asked to identify the man who attacked the Ministry and Diagon Alley, no doubt thinking that a allegedly 'former' Death Eater would identify one of their own."

"And was it a Death Eater?"

"What do you think?" said Dimitrias, a curious look on his face as he waited for Draco's answer.

Draco thought about it for a moment before shaking his head. "No, it couldn't have been a Death Eater," he said as he saw pieces to the puzzle starting to fit together."

"And why not?"

"Because it would be foolish. Even though the Dark Lord had come back, many chose not to believe. It's easier to operate when the public is willing to believe that you are still gone."

The grin on Dimitrias' face broadened. "Go on," he said.

"So making an attack out in public would attract attention and bring the Ministry down on..." his voice trailed off as it all clicked into place. "We were set up."

"Congratulations," said Dimitrias. "You now know what the Dark Lord and his inner circle now know. The Ministry clamping down on us has forced us to take cover, keeping us from organizing. A very effective strategy, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes," said Draco. "But who would do such a thing, and why would they do it?"

"Who indeed, Draco Malfoy...good question. Let's take a look at the Dark Lord's enemies, shall we?"

Draco tried not to laugh, but failed miserably. "Dumbledore?" he snorted. "Albus Dumbledore and his followers...I don't think so."

"And why is that?"

"Because I sincerely doubt Albus Dumbledore would kill several people and frame the Death Eaters for it just to convince people the Dark Lord has returned."

"A logical assumption, and no doubt true, but who does that leave?"

Draco thought about it for a moment, but couldn't think of an answer. "I don't know."

"And neither does the Dark Lord, the Ministry, nor Albus Dumbledore I suspect."

"So you're saying that there is someone out there we know nothing about able to strike at will and cover their tracks by implicating others?"

"That is what we've seen so far, except that I don't think they are as unknown or hidden as they would like us to believe them to be. I suspect they have spies...and then...there's your father."

"My father is no spy," Draco snapped, surprised at how vehemently he was willing to defend a man who thought him a failure to the family name.

"Perhaps not," said Dimitrias, "but as I said before, when the Dark Lord was previously in power, your father knew nothing of the Stiehl's existence or its whereabouts. But when he contacted the McCades to locate it, he provided them with information that he could not have gathered on his own. Someone provided it to him."

"And you think that someone might be the same person behind the recent attacks?"

"That is merely one of several possibilities," admitted Dimitrias, "but a very strong one when given what we know."

"What we know or why you've 'seen'?" asked Draco. "What do you really know, Dimitrias?"

"What do I really know?" Dimitrias arched an eyebrow, clearly amused by Draco's question. "If I didn't know any better, young Malfoy, I'd say you didn't trust me."

"I trust your information, but I also trust the possibility you're holding something from me."

Dimitrias chuckled at that last comment. "Perhaps I am, Draco, but I can assure you I only hold back on information I'm not sure of."

"And what are you unsure of, old man?" Draco didn't bother hiding his smile. Even though Dimitrias was keeping secrets from him, at least he didn't lie about it...almost refreshing in a way.

"What everyone is unsure of...the future. At least you can be thankful yours isn't set in stone yet." Dimitrias then moved to walk away, a sign that the conversation was over.

"What's that supposed to mean?" snapped Pansy.

Dimitrias paused for a moment, turning to face Draco and the others. "It means that you have a chance, all of you," he said gesturing at all of them, but his dead gaze fell on Pansy a little longer than the others. "Though some of you will find that the fates have a twisted sense of irony." Then, with a parting chuckle, he shook his head and began to walk into the forest.

Draco grinned smugly as he watched the old man disappear into the shadows. "So what do you think, Pansy?" asked Draco as he glanced over his shoulder at Pansy and the others. "Still think of him as backward?"

"I don't like him," said Pansy. "The way he looked at me made me nervous."

"Kind of amusing given the fact he's blind."

"I wonder what he meant about me and fate having a twist of irony."

"He probably said that to spook you," said Draco. As they started to head back to the castle, he suddenly realized something Dimitrias has said earlier about Pansy.

"This is interesting, I sense power untapped...."

"Damn you, old man," he chuckled. "You gave me answers, but left me with more questions."