Rating: M (18+)
Warnings: Strong Language, Slash M/M, Scenes of sexual nature, Violence
Pairing: EVENTUALHarry / Draco, meaning it won't happen right away.
Description: Draco is assigned to a new case, involving an ancient curse that was used as the fourth unforgivable before it was lost in existence. With the clock ticking, Draco must find a way to solve the case as to who is behind it, and help find a cure to stop the curse from getting worse. Unfortunately, the main subject of testing cures is Harry Potter himself. With hundreds of people counting on him, will Draco be able to save The Chosen One before it's too late?
A/N: This is going to be a long story, so there is no promised update times yet. Also, big big thank you to the most amazing beta ever Shigure-san! If you haven't read her stories, you should go check them out!

-xx-XX-xx

Chapter 1

Azkaban was not a place one would be likely to visit on a daily basis. However, under the circumstances, Draco Malfoy was an exception to that rule.

The Ministry of Magic was in a rather peaceful state, for the time being. It had been a slow couple of months; ever since the last Death Eater had been caught, crime seemed to have decreased incredibly. Of course Draco was a Death Eater, but luckily for him the great Harry Potter had saved him yet again, from a fate worse than death. As Draco sat in front of the Wizengamot, alone, cold, and terrified, he was just about ready to face life in Azkaban until the savior himself burst through the doors. To everyone's shock, including Draco's, Harry had managed to defend him quite successfully. Not only had Draco got off scot-free, but he'd managed to land himself in the Department of Mysteries with a job he'd never imagined he could have. Unfortunately, he couldn't say the same for his father.

Draco was unaware if acquiring the job was linked to Harry, or if it was due to his own demanding character and ability to keep quiet about things. It didn't matter, not anymore. He had proved himself countless times throughout the three years he'd been in his position. That was all he needed.

It was today that Draco would find himself in a positive event that could well end the life debt he owed Harry. In fact, Draco was almost sure he owed Harry two of them now, considering he did return to save Draco from a certain room filled with fire, after all.

The gates closed behind Draco as soon as he stepped into the lift, and grabbed hold of a free strap that was hanging. A small flock of Interdepartmental memos moved in before the lift itself moved. Draco took a deep breath in, and caught a faint smell of cooked salmon, mixed with some sort of lavender women's perfume; and, oh joy, someone definitely missed their shower today.

He waited a few stops before getting out at Level Ten, and walked down the long halls until he reached a tall onyx arched doorway. The doors opened loudly; he wasn't expecting to see anyone here yet as he was still a few minutes early and everyone else in this daft department seemed to arrive on the exact second. Draco casually took a seat in the empty courtroom, checking the time on his watch. Three minutes until Dawlish and Kingsley were due to arrive. Dawlish had taken on the temporary position of Head Auror, due to Harry's condition. They had informed Draco that they would need to join him, as travelling to Azkaban for visitations was not the most pleasant activity, definitely one should not do alone.

Kingsley had also informed him, despite all of Draco's protesting, that Ronald Weasley would be joining them too. Draco was not fond of the red head. Of course they had been unfriendly towards each other during their school years, but Draco found that Weasley irritated him even more now that they were working in the same place. On another note, Draco was almost positive that Weasley had blamed him for Harry's… condition.

As much as it pleased Draco to hear that the savior of the wizarding world had landed his arse in Azkaban, it pained him to know that he had been the one assigned to Harry's case.

Three years ago as soon as the war ended, Harry was as normal as could be. Instead of bickering and arguing every time they saw each other, like in Hogwarts, they ignored each other completely. (Or so Draco preferred to think.) If they happened to make eye contact, it would be broken in half a second and forgotten about the next. They no longer existed in each other's lives; it was probably some hero complex that Harry had. Saving someone's life, then pretending they didn't exist. Confusing, but nonetheless satisfying for Draco.

Except now Draco did have to acknowledge Harry's existence. Two weeks ago, the calm and peaceful Ministry had gone into a frenzy when an ancient dark curse was re-discovered. No one knew who had conjured it, used it, created it, or whatever. All that was known was that one day Harry and Ron had gone on a mission and the poor soul was hit by a curse. Ron was at his side, but the dark wizard responsible had vanished instantly. Harry had felt fine for a few days, until he had gone on a spontaneous, murderous rampage in the middle of downtown London, killing every muggle in sight. Including children.

Not only did it take hours for the Obliviator Headquarters to repair the damage done to the muggle witnesses, but it took days for anyone to find Harry after that. The last Draco had heard, Harry was found and taken away to Azkaban while singing to himself, floating down a river on a wooden board.

Draco didn't believe the story one bit.

Of course the first bit was true, but Draco knew there had to be something else. The chosen one didn't just go and kill muggles due to some silly curse that someone created. No, it was all a bit fishy. And he was assigned to the case. Lucky for him.

The doors opened again, and Kingsley escorted Ron and Dawlish inside. Draco stood up and shook Kingsley's hand firmly; ignoring the snide glances he was getting from the red head. Draco smirked, seeing the funny looking attire that Ron dressed himself in today. It was a large, seemingly hand knitted robe with fire-like colors and garish patterns plastered all over it. Of course it was cold out, but Draco never imagined anyone - including the annoying git - could wear something like that. In public. Draco chose a more simple style, casual black suit pants, a white button up shirt, and a long leather coat to keep him warm.

The four of them disapparated as soon as they were out of the Ministry. They arrived at a dock, overlooking what appeared to be a very dark and gloomy oceanic scene. Draco wasn't sure where they were exactly as he wasn't allowed to know for sure. Kingsley had mentioned previously how both Draco and Ron were not permitted to know their whereabouts of the meeting place. Visiting Azkaban was far too dangerous, let alone creepy. There were some places that prisoners could meet with family or any other visitors, under special circumstances of course.

There was a large tower on the beach, made of what looked like stone and steel. It reminded him of a miniature version of Azkaban itself. As soon as they passed the wards, and eventually made it inside, Draco was shocked to see how pleasant and comforting it was. The walls were tall, and painted yellow. The floors were white stone, and the whole place vaguely reminded Draco of a hospital.

They were escorted down several halls and up several floors, until finally, they reached their destination. This particular hallway was just like that at the Ministry - shiny and black, with doors too tall and too expensive. Kingsley took a moment to chat with the four guards standing outside the locked door before they all went inside.

There he was, Saint Potter, sitting on a stool in the middle of a large glass cage in the center of the room. The roof was probably enchanted, as Draco couldn't see any sign of one at all. Only a misty veil of darkness. The walls and floors were black, and in each corner stood a guard. Surely Harry couldn't be that dangerous that he needed all this protection?

Harry stood up as soon as the door opened. Draco felt a pang of pity when he saw how dreadful Harry had become in a matter of days. His hair was matted and strands fell loosely in front of his eyes. His skin was a mirror image of Draco's, pale as can be. Yet those eyes, those familiar once lively eyes, now looked dull and lifeless, staring straight at Draco.

Ron rushed past Draco and flung himself against the glass like a lost child that had found his mother. The two old friends pressed their hands together as if they could not feel the glass separating them and Ron began assuring Harry that everything would be alright.

"Minister," Draco said quietly, turning to Kingsley. "If I could, after Weasley is finished, I'd like a word with Potter alone for a few minutes to gather my information."

"Alone?" Dawlish said, squeezing in between a few guards.

"Yes," Draco said sharply, aware of how Dawlish had a nasty habit of not trusting people. "I am not able to ask him any direct questions about his condition with you or Weasley around."

After a moment, Dawlish respectively agreed and went back out into the hallway. Kingsley had gone to retrieve Ron and bring him outside for a moment. He then continued to inform the guards of Ministry business, and eventually all the guards in the room retreated to the hallway for the time being. Draco watched the doors close, and turned to Harry.

Harry was staring at him, and the way he held is eyes frightened Draco slightly. He had remembered the boy back in Hogwarts, thirsty to prove himself and become a hero. Now he was almost empty, like a wasted shell ready to break at any given second.

"Afternoon, Potter," Draco said, stepping up to the glass.

Harry stepped back, not speaking.

"No need to be frightened. I'm here on official Ministry business."

Draco narrowed his eyes. No response.

"I'm here to ask you a few questions-" Draco hesitated when Harry shook his head and crossed his arms.

"You don't want to hear them?" Draco asked, confused, but decided to play along. The matted boy nodded this time. "What, cat got your tongue?"

What Draco didn't understand was the strange silence that Harry seemed to hold onto. He could hear him, that much was obvious. So why wasn't he speaking?

"Tell me Potter, can you talk?"

Harry paused for a moment before nodding.

Draco sighed. This would go nowhere if Harry didn't want to talk to him. It was understandable, of course, but Draco meant no harm in coming here. "I was assigned to this case, and I'm glad. Want to know why? Because I don't believe a word the Daily Prophet bullshit says. I know something is wrong. I want to help you."

No, he didn't want to help Harry. He was more interested in the curse; he wanted to know about it. Everything about it.

"And what's in it for you?"

Success! Draco thought, grinning to himself. "Nothing, of course. The benefit of helping out an innocent man, perhaps?"

Harry laughed, but the sound was cold in Draco's ears. "I'm far from innocent, Malfoy."

"You're cursed."

"I killed people."

"You weren't yourself."

"I was aware of my actions."

"Controlled actions!" Draco said exasperatedly. What was his problem?

Harry let out a slow breath, standing still. Draco could see a shadow creep across Harry's face, and Draco's stomach became uneasy. "Don't defend me Malfoy. I'm nothing more than a monster now."

"You're not- uhg." Draco rubbed his temple. He was becoming infuriated now. This wasn't like Harry at all, whatever happened to the boy who lived? "Will you let me ask you some questions at least? If you aren't interested in being healed, the least you could do is help in finding the man who did this to you."

Harry glanced up at the small holes in the glass, and Draco wondered what he was thinking.

"Alright then." Draco shrugged his shoulders back and took a deep breath. "Can you explain in detail what you remember about the night you were attacked?"

Harry sat down on his stool. "I don't remember anything. One moment, Ron and I were walking into an alley and the next I woke up in Azkaban."

"You mean you don't remember anything in between?"

Harry shook his head.

"Potter, you realize you just told me you killed people. How can you possibly know what you did if you don't remember?"

"It's not that I don't remember, I do," Harry said quietly, barely loud enough for Draco to hear. "It's… complicated."

Draco rolled his eyes. Of course it was complicated, this entire disaster was complicated! "Well, explain it to me then."

"To you?" Harry said, looking up. Draco smirked, there was a hint of disgust to Harry's tone. At least there was still a soul inside of him.

"Yes, to me. I'm the only one daring enough to even be in the same room with you without guards around."

Harry glanced around before settling his gaze on the floor. "I'd rather not talk to you, Malfoy."

Draco scoffed. "Well, as it happens, you have to. Don't force me to bring out the vertiserum."

"I have to?"

Draco nodded. "You know my position within the Ministry. You know I have the power to make you talk, whether you like it or not."

"I'm just… tired of talking." Harry said, and Draco could not help but notice the lonely touch to Harry's voice.

"As I've heard, you've only had the pleasure of speaking with other Aurors. I'm not an Auror, and I won't actually force you to say anything you're not comfortable with," Draco rasped.

Harry drew a long breath. "And you're not here just to bully me?"

"Bully you?" Draco asked, managing a grin. "We're not children anymore, Potter."

"Just two months ago you flipped my lunch tray up in the air. Thanks to you, one of my favorite jumpers is now permanently stained with coffee."

Draco chuckled. "You could always use magic to get rid of it."

"That's taking the easy way out," Harry mumbled, rolling his eyes. "Not to mention you still call me scarhead whenever you get the chance."

"I do not!" Draco stated, sincerely not remembering this. "As I've noticed, we haven't spoken a word since the trials."

"Hah!" Harry grinned, and Draco felt a pang of relief. The chosen one was lightening up a bit, and the room suddenly felt more comfortable. "You never turn away a chance of teasing me. Don't deny it."

"I will deny it, and I will continue to!" Draco retorted, amused. "Perhaps my memory has failed me, or am I mistaken that you and the weasel are the ones who send smoke-snapper mail and wildfire whiz-bangs into my office all the time?"

"Well…" Harry smirked and glanced away momentarily. "We needed to find some way to pass the time when days were slow."

"So you pulled amateur pranks on me?"

"Not just you," Harry bit the inside of his cheek before continuing. "We sent Kingsley a ton-tongue toffee once."

Draco crossed his arms. "Dare I ask what that is?"

"Makes your tongue swell up to ten times its normal size. Fred dropped one once at my old house and my cousin Dudley ate it. That wasn't exactly pleasant."

Draco watched Harry's face turn cold at the mention of Fred's name. Draco had nearly forgotten that one of the Weasley twins had been killed during the war.

"Never took you as the pranking type."

Harry shrugged. "I never really was."

"Anyway," Draco said casually, anxious to get back to the topic of the curse. "Can you talk about the curse now?"

As Harry nodded, Draco could tell he was still cautious about wanting to talk. "I can't remember what he said, but I know there was a very dark blue light coming straight at me. As soon as it hit me, I felt like… I don't know. Like, shadows were attacking me. I couldn't breathe, I smelled something burning and then almost in an instant everything was fine again."

Draco bit his tongue, wondering why that all seemed to familiar. "And… the episodes? Or so everyone calls them?"

"It happens when I sleep."

"When you… sleep."

Harry nodded, and Draco noticed a slight twitch in the boy's fingers before he cared to explain. "It's like… a nightmare. I go to sleep, then I wake up, but I'm not me. I can see it, feel it, but I'm not there. It's as if I'm standing outside of my body, watching it do horrible things to other people, begging for it to stop but I just can't…" Harry's body began to shake and Draco stepped forward, so the tip of his shoes were just barely touching the glass.

"Are you alright Potter?"

"Fine," Harry snapped, clutching his head with his hands.

"You look the complete opposite of fine-" Draco whirled around when the door of the room burst open and all the guards flooded back in quickly. Draco caught sight of Kingsley looking worried, with Ron trying to see what the commotion was about. Two of the guards pushed Draco aside, nearly knocking him over. Stepping back in surprise, he watched as the guards bombarded inside of Harry's holding cell, who then proceeded to pin Harry onto the floor. The sight of flailing limbs and the sounds of savage hollers brought a panicked Ron back into the room.

"What's going on?" Draco asked Kingsley, right before Ron pressed his fists against the glass.

"He's having an episode. Or starting to at least."

What an episode actually was, Draco didn't know. But it looked as if was Harry going madly insane, screeching and violently attacking something that didn't exist. They bound his wrists together behind him, and it took nearly six guards to finally get him to relax. Draco put his hands on the glass, determined to watch. He caught a glimpse of Harry's eyes, and Draco could have sworn they were completely black. The sounds of screaming erupted, and all the happiness in the room seemed to flood out and turn to ice. Sort of like how it felt being near a dementor, but much, much worse.

After about thirty more seconds of watching this horror show, everyone calmed down a bit and the guards left the cage, locking it up behind them. Draco raised a hand, motioning for the main guard to stop.

"Will he be taken back to Azkaban?" Draco asked, watching Harry out of the corner of his eye. He seemed to have gone back to normal, those once piercing eyes were now back to their shade of a lifeless, dull green.

The other guard nodded his head briefly. "The world will be safer with him in there. It's such a shame, really." The guard turned towards Harry, clasping his hands behind his back. "To see him like that."

"Because he's Harry Potter?" It wasn't a question, really. More of a statement. Draco knew it was true, even though the guard nodded he had to agree with him. Seeing Harry like that was not pleasant. If it were anyone else, it probably wouldn't have been as much of a shock or a big deal. But seeing as it was the savior of the wizarding world that it had to happen to, of course the whole world was blown away.

"Minister," Draco nodded to the guard before turning back to Kingsley. "I'd like to study Harry further, if you'd allow me."

Kingsley stared at Draco for a moment. "Of course."

Draco smirked. "I'd… like him to be taken to the Ministry, though."

Draco hoped Kingsley would understand. Working as an Unspeakable definitely had its advantages, and knowing that Kingsley had a bit of a soft spot for Harry would also work to Draco's plan. He wanted Harry at the Ministry. Visiting this place every day could soon very well be a problem, as Draco had no privacy here nor did Harry seem very comfortable. This was, indeed, a strange curse and Draco wanted to know as much about it as possible.

Though he couldn't shake the feeling that he had seen this before. Maybe not seen, more like read about it. But from where? Draco wondered if he had seen Voldemort use it before, but no memories surfaced. His thoughts didn't linger there for long, they quickly trailed over to how disturbing Harry's episode had been. It was as if a demon had completely taken over control of Harry's body, ripping its way out, aching to kill.

"Very well. I will arrange to have Mr. Potter sent to the Ministry, under constant supervision of course."

Draco nodded his head. Brilliant! "Thank you, Minister."

Draco glanced over his shoulder one last time. Harry was rocking back and forth, huddled in the corner of the cell. Ron was trying to talk to him, but no words were returned. Not even a simple gesture. Sadly, Ron turned away from his closest friend and followed Draco and Kingsley back into the hallway.

"Alright, Weasley?"

"Fine," Ron mumbled, scratching his neck. "This is a fuckin' nightmare."

Draco huffed, raising his eyebrows. "Sad to see your life long partner in such a horrible condition?"

"Glad you're getting your humor out of this, Malfoy." Ron snapped, as the doors closed behind them.

"It may have pleased me a few years ago, but you can sleep peacefully tonight knowing I find no happiness seeing Potter like that," Draco said sternly, making sure to keep his eyes focused in front of him, as they followed down the flights of stairs. "No one deserves that."

Ron on the other hand, looked unconvinced. "What did you say to him that made him have an episode?"

"I said nothing. He simply explained to me what the curse does-"

"He told you?" Ron said, coming to an abrupt stop.

"Yes, now do you mind?" Draco stepped forward, pushing past Ron who then forcefully grabbed a hold of his arm. Draco whirled around to face him, completely unaware of the shock in Ron's voice.

"He won't even tell me what happened!"

"That's because you were there!" Draco wriggled his arm free and stepped backwards. "You can't just expect him to open up to everyone."

"Yet he told you. You, of all people, you."

"He had no choice really," Draco was determined to stop talking to Ron. Sure, they had been working together for three years, but this was the most they had spoken to each other since Hogwarts. "I assured him I was there to help, not on my own terms."

Ron furrowed his eyebrows. "Why did they assign you? Why not me? I was there, I know what I saw. He's my partner, he's practically my bloody brother. He's my best mate! Where do they get off choosing you?"

"Because I offered to."

Ron glared up at Draco, eyes swelling with resentment. "Because you bloody offered to? Why?"

"I don't know," Draco shrugged. Of course he knew why, but as an Unspeakable it would be wise to not divulge too much information. "I have a taste for dark curses, I know plenty about them; as you so obviously know. Not to mention Potter helped me out a fair bit after the war, so it's only reasonable to help him back."

Ron kept a step behind Draco when they continued to walk down the stairs. "That's rich. You probably have some stupid scheme you're plotting."

"Ah, what a shame. You've discovered my secret- I guess I'll just have to go home to my evil green and silver dungeons and re-brew some potions that I was planning on using with Potter."

"Shove off," Ron muttered, ignoring Draco's chuckle. "Why do you want to help Harry? There has to be something other than 'returning a favor'."

Draco pondered that for a moment. He really did want to help- to end the obnoxious life-debt he owed Harry, and to learn more about the curse. It had such a familiar feeling to it, after seeing Harry like that and discovering the effects. It was as if he'd heard about it somewhere. But from where…?

"It's none of your business," Draco simply said, opening the doors to the floor ground.

"I just want to know wh-"

"If you ask why one more time, Weasley, I can promise you those will be the last words out of your mouth," Draco said with anger. It wasn't abnormal for Draco to make threats, but this time he meant it. Ron was really starting to dance on Draco's nerves and he didn't want to talk about this any longer.

"Fine," Ron mumbled, pushing forcefully past Draco towards the door. Draco noticed that Kingsley had made a silent effort to stay ahead of the two of them, enough to not hear the conversation.

Draco heard no more from Ron once they finally made it back to the ministry. The trip had proved to be successful, even if Harry hadn't said much. It didn't matter; Draco decided he would visit tomorrow as well. It would take a few days, perhaps a week or two, for Harry to finally be given the grant to arrive at the ministry.

As he made his way to the fireplaces, Draco suddenly realized where he recognized the curse. Back in his seventh year, when Amycus Carrow was teaching the Dark Arts, there was a section on the History chapters called 'Lost Curses'. The thought occurred to Draco that he may be able to find out about the curse if he could find that textbook. That would be a problem, however. Draco remembered that after the war, those textbooks had been burned and banished from Hogwarts grounds, and nearly all of the bookstores in Britain.

Draco figured tomorrow would be a good time to re-visit Hogwarts. If anyone knew where to find the book, the librarian there would.