Disclaimer: Harry Potter = J.K. Rowling

Chapter Two

Draco Malfoy made his way back to his flat in the heart of muggle London as the sun was beginning to rise. Feet dragging he managed to shrug his cloak off and stumble into the bedroom before he fell bodily into bed, shoes still on. Within minutes he was fast asleep.

Far too soon he was woken up by a scratching on his window. A handsome tawny owl with a small scroll of parchment tied to its leg was asking for entrance. Draco glanced at the clock at his bedside, which told him it was almost 9:30 a.m., hardly three hours since he had got into bed. He pulled himself up and went to let the bird in; the owl flew in gracefully and landed on the headboard then stuck its foot out. As soon as Draco removed the letter the owl swooped back out the open window and went on its merry way. Draco unrolled the scroll and scanned the brief message:

Usual place, usual precautions, A.S.A.P

-H

Draco drew a hand across his eyes and then ducked into the closet to grab some new clothes.

An hour later he was descending down the sticky steps into a muggle subway system, looking for all the world to see like a Spanish matador, with olive tone skin and dark, wavy hair. He walked down the platform and sat next to an old man who was staring at the trains as they sped by and humming a small tune to himself. Draco leaned over to the man and said in a conversational tone:

"I've heard the Peddleford Lions have a chance at winning their regional division," The old man kept watching the trains, but replied:

"Those snakes, they don't have a chance in hell." He turned towards Draco, his emerald green eyes flashing. "C'mon, the next train is ours."

The odd pair stepped onto the train and shuffled down to find a pair of seats. Draco huffed as a homeless man looking for some spare change accosted him.

"You really now how to pick your rendezvous spots, don't you Potter," he said sneeringly.

"How many dark wizards are going to think to look on a muggle subway?" Harry retorted. It was an old argument, but one Draco felt obliged to bring up every time they met.

"Whatever. So what do you need from me?"

"I've come up with a plan of action in relation to the information you've given me; given that you're all caught up in this anyway I figured I might as well let you know what is going on. I think the best clues we have are the men in the vision, we need to…"

"One step ahead of you Potter," Draco interjected. "Napier, Witt and Goyle are currently in Azkaban, I've got someone trailing Rowe and understandably the last man will be left up to you." Draco summarized.

"Understandably." Harry nodded and his face dropped into a puzzled stare, his fingers twirling the ends of the generous gray beard he had given himself. "If Napier and the others are in Azkaban that means there is going to be a break-out,"

"Could be a break-out, Potter. I only see what could happen, not what will."

Harry nodded in agreement, but whatever Draco's claims about his abilities were both men were thinking the same thing: Draco hadn't been wrong yet.

"I should tell the guards to be on the look out… but they may ask questions… never mind I'll figure that out later." He sighed and leaned back in the chair. "Okay, I have to inform Kingsley and keep him updated, but since he already knows about you that won't be a huge problem. I'm going to create a small team of aurors, just a couple that I trust explicitly, and set them to discreetly investigating the matter. They'll have to see the vision, but I won't tell them the source. I'll investigate the fifth man myself. Well, this is my stop, any objections?" Harry stood up as the train slowed.

"I'll get back to you on Rowe," Draco said, and after a nod Harry was gone into the throngs of muggles. Draco rode the rail for a few more stops before disappearing himself into rainy, gray London.

Hermione wandered into the ministry, which was abandoned as usual on a Saturday morning. After the brief reign of Thicknesse as minister when the ministry had become a place of darkness and fear one of the first actions of the reconstruction team was to rebuild the reputation of the ministry, and included in this was a makeover. What used to be an intimidating marble walkway lined with fireplaces was now a bright and sunny atrium. A magical glass ceiling provided the light to all the trees and flowers that decorated the atrium. It was still impressive; a feat of magical architecture, but now it had a welcoming quality to it.

Hermione crossed through the center of the room, which was decorated with a huge statue of Harry's defeat of Voldemort, the one reminder of their dark past in the room. Harry hated the statue, but the general public had wanted something and it was better than a moving mosaic portraying the entire event several times throughout the day. She made her way over to the lifts which now carried her skyward; everything except the Department of Mysteries had been moved aboveground where the offices could enjoy real sunlight and escape the oppressive feeling of being underground.

The lift dropped her off on the second to last floor; the Department of Defense Against the Dark Arts, called DADA, especially by ex-Hogwarts students. After the war the Auror department had been transformed into their own major branch of the ministry. The department was jointly run by Harry, the Head Auror, and Kingsley, the Minister of Magic.

In the empty department Hermione could hear the soft whisper of voices coming from Harry's office, which she entered with a soft knock. Inside Harry and another figure were deep in conversation. The other man was Brian Tippins, a young, but extremely competent auror. He had a soft boyish look that contrasted with his serious, to-the-point personality. He smiled sweetly when he saw Hermione and gave her a quick hug; the two of them both preferred the investigative side of being an auror to the action side and had become good friends since he entered the department. They had tried being more, but after a few dates decided they were much better friends than lovers.

Harry gestured for the two to sit down and began: "I'm sorry to call you in on a Saturday morning, but this requires urgency and privacy." Harry looked awful; there were dark circles under his eyes and a weary set to his shoulders, it was more than just a bad hangover. "An informant of mine came to me last night, the man you saw, 'Mione," he said with a nod in her direction, "After he had a very disturbing vision."

Hermione was extremely curious as to who this informant was, especially given the spark of recognition she had had the night before but she held her tongue; if Harry could tell her he would.

"I'm going to show you the vision," Hermione noticed the pensieve perched on a pedestal in the corner, "and then explain why you are here. First I need your word that none of this will leave this office, if the public knew…" he trailed off, rubbing his temples. Both Hermione and Brian nodded seriously and made their way over to the pensieve. Harry drew a small glass vial out of his pocket and poured the milky substance into the bowl; all three leaned in and were drawn into the memory.

The first thing Hermione noticed was that it was freezing. She couldn't tell where she was, there were no buildings or landmarks of any sort. It was a dark, clear night and there was snow under her feet. A full moon hung above the trio as the watched the scene unfold before them. Five hooded figures seemed to rise up out of the ground and were standing in a circle around a strange object, perhaps a boulder or stone of some sort.

Hermione was surprised that the memory was a vision, normally visions had a foggy uncertainty about them, but this was crystal clear, sharper actually than most memories.

The five men started chanting, a low guttoral string of words that was deeply unsettling. They reached the height of their chant and their hoods slipped down. Hermione recognized all the figures from the files she had been working on the night before, they were all ex-death eaters, but one was more familiar than others. There was no way she could mistake his shoulder length blond hair: Lucius Malfoy. The pitch of the chanting was rising until suddenly the ground tilted and Hermione was barraged by a stream of images; disaster after disaster. She recognized some scenes: Hogwarts crumbling, the collapse of the Eiffel Tower. Others were less familiar: a huge tidal wave crashing over an island, and earthquake opening up the ground below a city.

Then suddenly they were back in Harry's office. Hermione stumbled back and sat down heavily in her chair. She didn't totally understand what she had just seen, but there was a deep-seated uneasiness in her stomach. Brian sat down heavily as well, all the color gone from his face.

"Harry… that's…" He shook his head in disbelief "I thought we had taken care of that."

"I did as well," Harry said slowly.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"Brian, please explain."

"I did some research during my training into the deeper nature of magic," Brian started off shakily. "As you probably know, the magic we access is just a very small part of what's out there, we hardly make a difference in the general flow and balance of magic. But Voldemort did, he delved into some really dark types of magic, worse than even horcruxes. Whatever he did, he really screwed up the balance and threw things out of whack. When Harry defeated him we thought things had gone back to normal but…" Brian just shook his head again.

"The magic those men were doing, or will do, is ancient magic that is meant to purposely skew the balance in one direction or another, but they shouldn't even be able to get those to work at all. We're in dark, dangerous territory." Harry took over for Brian.

"But… isn't that just a possible future, a one in a million chance that the circumstances will be right?" Hermione asked.

"It should be, but my informant has never had a vision that hasn't come one hundred percent true." Harry finally sat down himself. Although it was a bright beautiful Saturday morning the mood in the office was extremely dour.
"What I need from you all is to investigate this, look into the magic behind what they were doing, and try to learn as much as you can, but discreetly. Continue working on your other assignments and whenever you learn anything come to me first. We can make the assumption that since it was a full moon in the vision we have at least a month," He paused and ran his hands through his hair.

"I'm sorry to dump this on you guys, I just couldn't handle it alone."

Sunday evening found Draco Malfoy perusing the bookshelves in a small secondhand bookstore in Diagon Alley. He didn't normally venture into the brighter areas of the wizarding world but he wanted to gather as much information on the nature of the magic the men in his vision were performing as he could. He was in disguise, as usual; chestnut brown hair and clear blue eyes, but otherwise he hadn't changed much. A small bell tinkled, announcing the arrival of another customer. Draco could hear the soft murmur of a feminine voice conversing with the clerk, but he didn't pay too much attention, instead focusing on the spines of the books in front of him, reading their names out to himself.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw someone enter the aisle and walk down towards where he himself was searching. Of all people it was Hermione Granger. He forgot he was in disguise and immediately panicked. He turned and rushed out of the store, but she had noticed him and followed after.

"Wait, sir, stop! I'm a friend, I promise!" She yelled after him as he rushed away down the street. Draco ducked through crowds and finally slipped down a side alley that led to Knockturn Alley. He didn't pause until he reached the slippery cobblestones of the less popular alley and looked behind him. She was gone. A glance at his watch told him that it was almost time to go meet at The Severed Head, so he took off briskly down to the far end of Knocturn Alley.

Hermione paused to catch her breath and looked around at the crowds in Diagon Alley, but she couldn't see the informant anywhere. She had recognized his voice and hair from when he had run into her at the ministry. He must have recognized her as well, but why had he run?

She gave up looking and decided to head back to the bookstore briefly before going to meet Harry and Ginny at their flat for dinner.

Already on edge from the run-in with Granger, Draco cautiously entered the bar, seeking out the booth where he had met the man previously. The bar was less crowded than the previous night, which Draco didn't like, but he was still able to slip in fairly unnoticed. The only head that turned was that of a small, black-clad woman at the end of the bar who watched him from behind briefly before slipping out the door.

Draco kept his eyes glued to the dirty mug in front of him, still full given the unknown nature of its contents. He didn't see the man approach but he could smell him, a combination of urine, alcohol and rotting human flesh.

"Easiest assignment ever given, 'at was, boss," the man said with a gurgling chuckle. "Like the bastards not e'en tryin' to hide."

"And…?" Draco questioned.

"Well, he's got his little set up, little cottage in da woods, but he don't got any sorta protective spell, easiest piece of scryin' I ever done," The man snorted again and waved his stubby wand about. "Got ya a portkey right here, iffen you wanna go,"

Draco nodded as the man dropped an old soda can on the table in front of them. After a couple of seconds the can began to glow.

"Now 'bout my payment…" the man started, but Draco already had his finger on the portkey, and felt the jerk behind his navel as it took off. Two gold galleons fell to the table as Draco was gone in a flash of light.

Draco stumbled to a stop on the wet grass. He was in the middle of a clearing surrounded by dark forest on all sides. Before he got a chance to observe anything else a spell hit him from behind. He was slammed forward into a tree.

"Reducto!" There was another shout; Draco dove to the ground to avoid it but was hit with a dozen splinters as the spell exploded the tree in front of him.

"Confringo!" This was a different voice, a woman's voice. At least Draco knew he had more than one attacker, but since he couldn't see them it wasn't much help. He whipped his wand out and stopped the last spell with a protego charm while pulling up to his feet. He could see the man and the woman that had cast the first two spells but he was caught unawares again as a third figure emerged from the woods and something smacked him across his temple.

Blood was flowing freely from a dozen places as Draco tried to scramble away from the three advancing figures, but as he tried to stand someone cast a body bind curse and he fell to the ground, stiff as a board. He struggled to break the spell as they approached. The three figures towered over his prone figure and the woman raised her wand.

At the same time she whispered "Sectumsempra!" Draco managed to release his wand arm and cast a protego charm. It deflected the spell, but not completely and Draco saw stars as the pain exploded across his right arm and a portion of his torso; but the pain was enough to release the rest of the body-bind curse. Draco pushed himself away, quickly losing consciousness and focused on apparating, in his mind one word: Potter.

Hermione, Harry and Ginny were all sitting around the table at Harry and Ginny's flat happily drinking wine and twirling pasta when a loud thump interrupted their meal. The three paused briefly and Ginny got up to go investigate while Harry and Hermione continued their lively debate about whether or not there should be casual Friday at the ministry.

"Harry, it would just break down order, there's are reason you dress professionally for work, to look professional, casual Fridays ruin that!" Hermione said.

"Yeah, but who really wants to wear a suit and tie and robes every day! Gimme a break, I'd love to come in a t-shirt, jeans and trainers." Hermione laughed and shook her head.

"Harry! Hermione!" They heard Ginny call from the other room; there was a sense of panic and urgency in her voice that made the two leap out of their seats and rush over. They came in to Ginny levitating something into the air. Upon closer inspections Hermione realized it was a person, someone who'd been beaten and bruised and bloodied almost beyond recognition. Her training as a mediwitch immediately kicked in and she started barking orders to Harry and Ginny.

"Ginny, levitate him into the spare bedroom and keep him floating above the bed for right now. Harry, I'm going to need hot water and a lot of towels. Now!" She bustled down the hallway after Ginny and Harry ran off into the kitchen to complete his orders.

"What happened?" Hermione asked Ginny.

"I just went to open the door to look out and there he was, just slumped against the door jamb looking dead. They had all seen enough death and dying in their lifetimes to not be disturbed by someone in this condition but it was unnerving nonetheless to have it right at your front door.

Hermione began to inspect the man; he was breathing, though it was shallow and erratic. She tried a spell to help clear the airways and the man's breathing became a little easier. Then she began to inspect the rest of his wounds. There was so much blood it was hard to separate all the different lacerations, but the major ones seemed to be a slash that ran across one bicep and down the stomach and a gash on his temple.

"Where is Harry with that water?" Hermione demanded.

"I'm here, I'm sorry it took a while to heat up." Harry bounded in with a pan of water in the crook of one are and a pile of towels in the other.

"Really, Harry, aren't you a wizard?" There was brief reaction from Harry but mainly he seemed distracted by the man in front of him, furrowing his brow and staring intently at the prone figure. Hermione recognized the spark of recognition in Harry's eyes but right now it didn't matter, she didn't need to know who it was until she knew whether or not the man would live.

As Hermione began to clean off the blood she noticed something even more disturbing. Underneath the recent cuts were scars. Some were light, criss-crossing and random like the cuts she was sealing up right now, but others seemed to have been deliberately carved into the skin: pentagrams and other symbols.

She continued to diligently clean and bind his wounds until she was sure he was safe from bleeding to death. Hermione then let Ginny release the levitation spell and settled the man into the bed. Harry was leaning in the doorway, looking pale.

"Harry, a word?" Hermione gestured to outside of the room, "Ginny, if you could keep an eye on him, call for me if any of the wounds keep bleeding?" As soon as they were out of earshot, she turned upon Harry.

"He's your informant, isn't he? The one who had that vision?"

"Yeah, and as soon as he wakes up I need to find out what the bloody hell happened to him. He will wake up, right?" Harry looked extremely concerned, as if the man on the bed was a friend.

"He should, as far as I can tell his injuries are only physical, it doesn't look like he was cursed or jinxed. What worries me more are all those scars… Harry, it would really help if I knew who he was, I could have sworn I recognized him the other day."

"Hermione, you know I trust you, but I can't tell you. Even if I did, I doubt it would help any, I don't even know that much about the guy."

"What about those scars?"

"He hasn't told me, only that they're a 'token of his past'" Harry shook his head. "'Mione, I hate to ask this of you, but could you keep an eye on him tonight? And get me as soon as he wakes up?"

"Of course," Hermione grabbed a book out of her purse and settled herself down in the armchair next to the bed.