Chapter 3: With a Little Complication Here and There.

Harry was tired by the time he crawled into bed. He was still a little dirty. Apparently, having a hosepipe ban meant less water for him and more for the garden. Changing into a pair of old shorts, Harry threw some owl pellets to Hedwig (Errol having recovered some time during the morning and flying home), then sat on his bed to re-read Ron's mysterious letter.

He could not decipher it completely. Ron had tried to include all the information in a fashion only known to him. 'We should come up with a letter writing code,' Harry thought, folding the letter and placing it on the bedside table. On second thought, he pushed it under his pillow. If Ron had taken time to write it in code, it might be important. He couldn't burn it before he understood it completely.

Absentmindedly, he scratched at a little dirt stuck under his fingernails. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He started to dream…

break

i He was in a large room lit by tall white candles, which partially illuminated it. There appeared to be a faint breeze which made them flicker, throwing odd shadows. It made the room feel more sinister. In the far corner of the room stood a tall slim reptilian figure that he recognized instantly. Voldemort was dressed in a simple black robe which reached the ground, reminding Harry of Dementors. He was facing away from the room, looking out a window shrouded in darkness. Whatever he was looking at was hidden from view. Harry wondered what was of interest to the Dark Lord.

He wondered curiously as to why he was seeing this in third person. He usually saw through the eyes of his Voldemort himself. That he was standing separately, making him wonder whether it was a simple dream he was experiencing.

There was a sound of footsteps, firm and confident. Lucius Malfoy swept into the room in a flurry of robes. He was dressed also in black, but with a red border which had an intricate design woven into it. Harry frowned, wondering whether it was a dream or a vision. Was Malfoy Sr. out of Azkaban, and if he was, where was he?

The Dark Lord did not turn around. Looking at the back of his hairless head, Harry was grateful that he did not have to put up with the sight of the red slits for eyes and the thin, lipless mouth. He did not think Dark Lords were into plastic surgery for appearance upgrades.

"Luciussss." The voice was almost hypnotic.

"It is done, my lord."The blond had knelt in the middle of the room as soon as Voldemort had spoken. Harry could see that his robe had flared out as he knelt. It pooled around his legs in a graceful swirl. It was obvious where Malfoy Jr. had gotten his flare for theatrics from. "I have sent him into the hands of those you seek."

The speech sounded so dramatic that Harry was sure in the next instant they were going to burst into song and dance. However, it just made Voldemort feel important, apparently.

"So soon, Lucius." There was no hissing this time, only mild surprise and another emotion Harry couldn't define. "We have time until the Ceremony."

"It will give him time to ingratiate himself," Lucius said, looking up, slightly.

"And how will this help the Ceremony?"

"It calls for a willing sacrifice, my lord," the blond man said smoothly. "This way we will be sure of one."

"How do you intend to find your son?" the Dark Lord asked softly.

"What, no torture?" Harry thought.

"I put a location charm on him." Lucius was almost gloating. "One only a Malfoy could find, and follow anywhere in the world. No one will find it, my Lord, it's almost a part of him."

"Good," said Voldemort, turning around swiftly. Instantly, Harry was subjected to the sight of the face of his nightmares, with a feeling of triumph so great that he was pushed back to his body. /i

Gasping for breath, onehand curled around an aching scar, Harry sat up in bed, cursing Dark Lords who refused to maintain regular hours. Why couldn't he have a meeting with his minions in broad daylight, like normal people did?

Harry sat on his bed, his hands curled around his legs, head resting on his knees, thinking over what he had heard. Before, in such an event, he could have written to Dumbledore or Sirius. Now there was no one, with the Order falling apart and school closing down. He didn't even know who headed the Order these days, McGonagall, Mr. Weasley, or perhaps Mad-Eye Moody, though that seemed unlikely.

He could not write to his friends. Apart from the fear that his letter might be intercepted, there was very little he could do. He was coming to realize just how much he had relied on Dumbledore to advise and think for him. All of a sudden, he felt more alone than he had felt before, with no one to turn to, or help him with his problems. It was like fourth year again. No matter how many friends he had, he had to go into the maze by himself. Not knowing what was around the corner, hoping what he had learned was enough to get him though. He had been lucky before, but luck had a way of running out when you least expected it.

Frustrated, he picked up the pillow he was leaning against and threw it across the room. It did not make him feel better, but revealed the letter from Ron. He stared at it for a moment, realizing that if the room was light enough for him to see it; the night was nearly over. Lucius had said Draco was gone, a tracking charm on him. Ron had said they had a ferret staying over with them. Did that mean by some chance Draco Malfoy was at the Burrow, where the Order Headquarters were, with a way to lead a horde of Death Eaters to them?

He just couldn't sit on his bed and let everything roll over him. He had to help his friends in whatever way possible. That decided, he felt better as he rushed to brush his teeth and put some clothes on. Once that was done, he pocketed his wand and stepped out, ignoring his aunt, who had been the first to wake up. If she thought he was going to cook breakfast, she was gravely mistaken. Taking a deep breath, Harry thought over his plan. It was simple, he had to go over to the Weasley's and warn them about Malfoy…Malfoy Jr.

He could fly, he supposed, but it was risky during daylight hours and he couldn't wait until nightfall. He could not risk flying hidden under his invisibility cloak, just in case it blew away. He really wasn't sure of the best way to fly to the Burrow. It wasn't as if he could ask for directions from birds.

HE HAD to Apparate, with or without his license. Deciding on that, he started to walk decisively towards the outer bounds of the wards that kept Privet Drive safe from the wizarding world. If he were to hurry, he would be able to return before his relatives and Ministry minders knew he was gone. He took a deep breath, tried to remember the Burrow from his memory, the odd leaning structure with the garden gnomes and all. Destination…think…focus…he decided somewhere on the outside would be safe. He wasn't confident enough to Apparate inside a house, and he was sure that there were some wizarding etiquettes against showing up inside a person's house unannounced, no matter how close you were. Then he Apparated…

He stood up shakily, his legs wobbling, wondering since when had Apparating gave him nosebleeds. Wiping the blood on his shirt sleeve, he walked towards the kitchen door and listened, listened to his best friends having a conversation with Draco Malfoy…about Remus Lupin's sex life.

He managed not to burst through and hex anyone when they suggested that his godfather had been a …pervert ("I thought he had a thing with Sirius Black ") as his uncle would call it, but when Malfoy went as far as to suggest that he had been shagging Remus ("I thought he and Potter had a thing") he decided to intervene.

break

"Harry!" Ginny was the first to recover, rushing to her feet, running towards him with her arms outstretched.

"Ginny," he said affectionately, giving her a hug, realizing that he had not missed her as much as he'd expected to. Apparently, digging a pond was a lot more distracting than he'd thought. He was suddenly enveloped in a warm hug from Hermione, whose bushy hair had grown bushier, if it was possible.

"Hey there, mate," Ron said in surprise, after he had finally managed to swallow the piece of toast he had been chewing, and came forward to greet him. In the rush of things, Harry managed to overlook the very reason he'd come to the Burrow until Malfoy spoke.

"Potter," he said in an oddly strangled voice. Raising his head out of Hermione's hair, which smelled familiar and comfortable, Harry looked up straight into a pair of silver gray eyes regarding him with …dismay. "What are you doing here?"

The question seemed to snap everyone out of their friendly glow, and Hermione, ever the practical one, was the first to react. "Harry, what are you doing, leaving the protection of your aunt's…?"

"Some protection," Harry grumbled. "If you think digging a pond in the backyard is protecting me, you'd better try again. I'll die of heat stroke and sunburn before anything else gets to me."

"Honestly, Potter, what are you, a wizard or some Muggle?" Malfoy drawled, leaning back against his chair in a relaxed manner. "All you need to do is cast a shielding charm and…"

"Get called for a hearing for performing underage magic," Harry finished for him. Then he realized that this was Draco Malfoy, thinner and more battered looking, dressed in one of Ron's smaller t-shirts and jeans, sitting in the Burrow's kitchen, having breakfast with his friends. "Can someone tell me what's going on and …?" He suddenly remembered the reason for his visit. "Ron, call your mom and dad if possible. I had another …dream…" he said, looking around and finally glaring at Malfoy. "Can we talk …alone?"

"Is it the scar?" Ron asked sharply. Harry noted that Malfoy had given up his pretence of relaxed disdain, and was sitting upright in his chair, watching them closely.

"Not here…" Harry said, equally sharply, his eyes fixed on Malfoy. There had better be a good explanation as to why Malfoy was there, though he was not about to demand one in front of his school rival. He noted that Malfoy had a huge bruise on one side of his face and bags under his eyes.

"I'll leave," Malfoy said, pushing his chair back and standing up gracefully… before his legs seemed to give way from under him.

Though Hermione was closer, Harry reacted first -- perhaps a result of his Seeker instincts reached past his friends, grabbed Malfoy around the waist before he hit the floor, and helped him back on to the chair. Distracted as he was by everything, he noted that Malfoy hadn't gelled back his hair as he usually did at school, letting it fall loosely around his face, smelling faintly of blood, potions and spice. Up close, their height difference was obvious, the blond being at least half a head taller than him, his slenderness making him look taller.

He could feel the ribs clearly underneath the threadbare t-shirt. Ron had probably given Malfoy the oldest and most useless piece of clothing he had possessed. It even smelled slightly moldy, and beneath his palm, Malfoy's heart fluttered. It was the only inkling he got of his rival's state of mind as the blond sank back into the chair, as if he had always meant to do that.

Up close, Harry could see that the bruise which marred his face was not the only sign of injury the blond sported. There was another bruise leading down from his disappearing into the t-shirt. Harry fought the urge to put a finger on and pull the neck line so he could see how far it extended. He also noticed that as the blond sat down, he winced slightly, as if uncomfortable.

"I think you owe me an explanation," he said finally, running a hand through his hair, at a loss of anything to do. 'Did I just put my hand around Malfoy's waist,' he thought in a pnicked voice. "But first, Hermione, call Mrs. Weasley."

"I'll do it," said Ginny, running towards the inner house, leaving the trio standing awkwardly with Malfoy seated next to them. Harry shifted from one leg to other as he waited for the arrival of his adoptive mother.

"Look, obviously Potter wants to know what I'm doing here, so someone please put him out of his misery," Malfoy drawled, looking confident once again. After saying this, he turned his attention to the single piece of toast he had on his plate since he'd come down for breakfast, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"Shut up…" Ron started, then stopped himself with considerable effort. "Look, Harry, Snape brought him in yesterday right after…we sent that letter with the twins. He was pretty banged up, and we don't know what to do with him, so he stayed."

"What do you mean, banged up?" Harry asked, puzzled. He pushed up his glasses and looked at Hermione for an explanation. "By whom, Snape?"

"My father tortured and raped me, Potter." The famous Malfoy drawl did nothing to mask the pain in it. Even Ron winced. Harry could feel his face burning up at this revelation, and tried to think of an appropriate answer. 'You had it coming' didn't sound quite right, and 'Serves you right' sounded some what heartless. He finally settled for a somewhat obscure, but obvious comeback of, "Your father raped you?"

"Stating the obvious, are we?" Malfoy drawled back at him just as Mrs. Weasley bustled into the kitchen with an armload of laundry. From behind her came Ginny, looking a little flustered, trying to get her mother's attention, but failing to do so.

"Hello!" Harry said a little shyly, and froze at the expression on Mrs. Weasley's face. It was one of panic and terror. "Is something wrong?"

"What are you doing here?" she gasped, dropping the laundry onto the floor, echoing Malfoy's earlier question. She automatically pulled out her wand and enchanted the washing so it started to fly out the door one by one, probably to get attached to the wash line. "You have to go back now; what about the blood protection and …oh, I have to owl Arthur about this…"

"I'm sick of that bloody protection," Harry ground out, disregarding Mrs. Weasley's presence. He was sick of people telling him that his best interest lie in staying with his relatives, who were probably more dangerous than Voldemort and his Death Eaters put together. "They treat me like some blasted house-elf, and all I've done is dig a hole in the ground until I got blisters in my hands and sunburn…" He wasn't sure why the sunburn bothered him so much, apart from the fact it hurt every time he wore clothes.

"Look, dear, I know you really can't stay away from Ginny, I know what young romance is like… when I was dating Arthur, we couldn't be separated at all…" Mrs. Weasley continued in an oddly high pitched voice as she picked a piece of parchment and quill seemingly from thin air and started to write a letter. "…Ginny was moping around the house too, you know… ("I wasn't," Ginny muttered), but you really have to go back. It's not safe here at all…"

"I didn't come here for Ginny," Harry ground out through teeth that seemed to be stuck together. "I came because…"

"Harry, you really should go back," Hermione said. "It isn't safe here, you know…"

"She's right, mate…" Ron injected with feeling.

"Hermione, I wanted to ask you about location charms," Harry tried to plow through his friends' chatter without much success.

"There are people watching over you at home, and they must be extremely worried," Mrs. Weasley chattered on, tying the letter to Errol's leg and giving the owl a push out the window. Harry watched, a little distracted as the owl fell on its back to the ground, picked itself up, looked around, a little stunned. It turned around in a circle before becoming airborne with some difficulty, as if the letter was a brick tied to its leg. "Ginny can wait a bit without you…"

"Location charms, Harry?" Hermione asked, her head snapping up in interest.

"We'll owl you about it when you go back, mate," Ron said.

Perhaps it was the inability to get his message through, or the fact they were all ignoring him and trying to get rid of him as fast as possible, that caused Harry finally lost his temper. The glass on the table exploded, followed by the water jug, window, and then the dishes started to blow up one by one while the occupants in the room fell silent. Even when he had gotten their full attention, Harry found out he couldn't control himself. Almost two weeks of build-up frustration and anger came out in a wave of uncontrollable magic, causing the house to tremble.

Ginny suddenly sprang to action. "Harry, stop it, stop it!" she cried , throwing herself at him and hitting him in the chest with closed fists. It finally snapped him back to reality, and he saw, for the first time, the destruction his magic had caused, in the form of fragments of glass and wood.

"Potter," Malfoy ground out in a strangled voice. "Have you considered taking anger management therapy?"

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Harry said automatically, collapsing into the closet chair. "Will you all just shut up and listen to me, please." He took off his glasses, placed them on the table, and ran a hand over his eyes. "I…" He took a deep breath and looked at Malfoy, then shrugged. "I had a vision yesterday…about Malfoy…Lucius," he said. He heard a sharp intake of breath from Malfoy Jr., but ignored it. "He was with Voldemort and they were talking about some Ceremony. And he said he'd put a location charm on Malfoy…" he gestured his hand towards the seated blond, "…Draco, that is."

"Accio Advanced Book of Charms," Hermione said, sitting down just as the book came flying into her hand. She looked up without opening the book and looked at Malfoy. "Location charms are objects… most of the time, but we burned all the clothes you came in. I really don't think it survived if it was on you." She pulled out her wand and pointed it at Malfoy, causing him to flinch. "Just to be sure," she said, and muttered something too fast for any of them to recognize.

"I'm sorry, dear," Mrs. Weasley said in a small voice. "I just got carried away when I saw you."

"It's ok, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, looking up, the room blurry since he had taken his glasses off. "I'm sorry about the mess I caused now."

"It's all right, dear," she said, taking out her wand. "How about some breakfast?"

"That'll be lovely," Harry said, smiling for the first time. He wasn't about to turn down free food after being starved to death. As he piled his plate with food, he tried to ignore Ron, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley, who were casting some household repair charms to get everything back to normal. Turning around, he noticed that Malfoy was very still with a piece of toast in his mouth, but making no move to bite it.

"He wouldn't," Malfoy finally said.

"What?"

"Put a location charm on me," he said, sounding perplexed. "He wouldn't."

"We'll know in a few minutes, Malfoy," Hermione said firmly. "I put a charm on you which will show any spells."

Malfoy choked on his toast and started to cough, a painful dry cough which made him double up and clutch his side. Ron enthusiastically leaned forward and thumped him on the back harder than necessary.

"Ron," Hermione said sharply. "Don't break any more ribs. I'll have to put them together again, since Madam Pomfrey can't come over at the moment."

"Sorry," Ron said unconvincingly, as Malfoy continued to cough.

"Someone rub his chest or something," Hermione finally said, looking up from the book she was leafing through.

No one made a move until Harry leaned across from his chair and put out his hand. He wasn't sure if rubbing the chest over his t-shirt was better, or whether he should pull it up. As he placed his palm on the other boy's chest, he drew away, gasping for breath.

"Touch me and you die Potter," he snarled out in a small voice, his eyes full of tears from coughing too much.

"How did you come here?" Hermione asked, looking up. "Knight Bus?"

"I Apparated," Harry said, feeling a little embarrassed and knowing what was coming.

"Without your license!" Hermione exclaimed, just as Ron said, "Way to go, mate."

"I couldn't fly and I didn't even remember the bus…"

"But we have an alarm at the Apparition point," Ron said thoughtfully. "We didn't hear it."

"I just Apparated to the back yard," Harry said, as Mrs. Weasley gasped.

"You couldn't have," she said. "We have Anti-Apparition charms in place there."

"But…" Harry said, feeling confused. "Maybe they're not there."

"They were there in the morning…" Hermione protested, getting up with her wand drawn, looking as if she was about to go to battle. "I don't think anyone pulled them down, but I'll just go and check now."

"Maybe Potter broke through them," Malfoy suggested, recovering from his choking fit. "That would explain how he got his nosebleed."

"But it takes a very powerful wizard to break through such wards…" Ron started, trailing off, looking at Harry as if he had grown a new head.

Harry looked up from his food, suddenly not very hungry, wondering if some more of his freakiness was about to manifest when Malfoy hummed. Actually, it was more as if his body hummed. They all turned to look at Malfoy, whose face had a look of despair and disbelief written on it…for his body was criss-crossed with purple lines that ran over him and through his clothes, circled his wrists and neck, stopping just short of his pointed chin.

"You were right, Harry," Hermione said, looking up. "He's got a location charm on him."

"I knew it," Ron said, pulling out his wand and pointing it at Malfoy, who did not even bother to flinch. His shoulders slumped and his face had a tired look.

"I didn't know it was there," he said softly.

"That's what you say, Death Eater," Ron said, swinging his wand in an arch, which made Harry duck. "When I'm through with you…"

"Ron, stop it," Hermione snapped. "It's our fault for not checking him for hexes and spells when he was first brought in. I just cast a few to see if he was hurt by any magic, not to check if he was carrying any more magic on him. I really don't think Malfoy would have been stupid enough to show up with a charm cast on him a second year student could have dealt with." At that, Ron and Harry exchanged a look of disbelief.

"What…"

"You are not going to do anything to him," she said firmly; she pulled out her wand, casting a spell on him. Malfoy flinched as the purple bindings changed to blue and thinner threads. "That makes it pretty useless to anyone who wants to track him," she said. "I can't remove it until I'm sure it won't hurt him."

"But…"

"No buts," she said firmly, looking at everyone in the room. "I patched him up, so no one's going to hurt him; understood?" When she was in that mood, no one interfered.

Harry expected Malfoy to say something inappropriate, but for once, he seemed to realize that keeping his mouth shut might be the wisest thing to do.

"Mrs. Weasley, how long before everyone gets here?" he asked instead.

"Soon," Mrs. Weasley said, looking agitated. "Ron, can I borrow Pig? I might as well owl Arthur with this new development…" Harry bit back a comment about how if she had actually listened to him, she would not have to send extra owls.

"Harry, about your…" Hermione looked at Malfoy, then continued, "…dream…. Can we talk in private? I want to know about the Ceremony and everything."

Harry nodded, wondering why something hadn't felt right. Finding the location charm had been too easy… almost as if it had wanted to be found. "What about him?" he asked, gesturing towards Malfoy.

"Mrs. Weasley can keep an eye on him," Hermione said. "It's not like he's in any condition to go anywhere."

"I'll pretend I'm a piece of furniture. That way you can keep on talking as if I don't exist," Malfoy drawled, still playing with his piece of toast.

"Sure," said Harry, leaning back against his chair, wincing as his skin reminded him of his long days spent in the sun.

"I forgot about your sunburn, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, opening one of the kitchen drawers, pulling out a jar of salve. "This is good for anything," she said. "If you could just take your shirt off…" Malfoy choked on his piece of toast again and was thumped on the back by Ginny.

Harry took off the shirt and tried to look behind him. "Wouldn't a simple healing spell do?" he asked.

"I just want to see how bad it is," Mrs. Weasley said, while Harry tried to look over his shoulder at his back.

Malfoy dropped the piece of toast, cursed, leaned forward, and took Harry's glasses, which were still on the table. Then he calmly snapped them in two.