AN: Yes! I'm getting this out when I said I would! I'm so proud of myself...

This chap and the next are sort of two parts to the same thing. So, they share titles. The titles to chaps three and four are from Nightwish's new album Dark Passion Play track one: "The Poet and the Pendulum", which is an amazing song, btw.

Red Sun Rising

Chapter III: The Poet

Harry glanced abruptly out the window, squinting down into the front yard. He thought he'd seen something moving, but after a few moments, he looked away again. In the faint light of the waning crescent moon and the shadows cast by the street lamps, it was difficult to tell movement caused by the wind from the movement of something else.

He took a look at the clock sitting on his nightstand. Eleven fifty-five. Only five minutes to go.

Ron and Hermione lay fast asleep on the conjured bed on the floor. He had not told them about his ritual of staying up until midnight the night before his birthday, waiting for the first moment he turned a year older. This year was especially important, because in four and a half minutes, he would finally be allowed to use magic outside of school, but it was still something for him alone. He didn't think it would feel as important unless he was alone.

He had also not told them the full reason of why they had stayed in Privet Drive for so long. Actually, he hadn't told Ron; Hermione already knew. After a couple weeks, Ron had started wondering aloud when they were going to leave and go to his parent's house or Grimmauld Place, or anywhere but here. Harry had just explained that if they left, he wouldn't be coming back, and therefore would no longer call the place "home" so his mother's protection would be gone. He wanted to stay for as long as he could, so he and the Dursleys would be protected for the longest possible time.

Hermione gave him knowing looks whenever he said this, because she knew he was waiting for Draco to show and would even after the protection was gone, but he ignored them. Luckily, Ron didn't notice.

He couldn't admit to either of them that he was also waiting for a letter from Ginny. The youngest Weasley had yet to respond, and Harry was growing seriously worried. He had hoped she would write to him while he was only around Ron, who would probably not take the news that his best friend had ditched his sister for a boy well, but would not throw him out of the house. If Ginny decided to rage about it while he was at the Burrow, he would have a whole mob of angry Weasleys on his case.

He did not want to imagine was Mrs Weasley would say if she found out like that. She would probably never allow him in the house again.

He glanced at the clock again. Half a minute left.

He wondered whether anything unusual would happen. Most wizards were probably asleep when they turned seventeen, so they wouldn't know whether anything happened or not. He doubted anything would happen, but then again, he had never been normal.

Twenty seconds. What was Draco doing right now? Was he unconscious, or was he waiting, just like Harry, for midnight to strike? Though it sickened him, he doubted Draco was awake.

Fifteen. His eyes were drawn to the lawn again. He was sure he had seen something this time.

Ten. Someone banged on the front door. He looked away from the window and back at the clock. Whoever had been moving out there was probably just a neighbour who needed help with his hosepipes.

Uncle Vernon grumbled and stomped toward the front door.

Five seconds. Four. Three. Two. One—

"BOY! Get down here!"

Harry started and fell off his window ledge. Wincing, he got to his feet and hurried to see what the problem was now. None of his relatives had called him anything but his name the whole summer.

He stopped dead halfway down the stairs. Uncle Vernon was standing in front of the open door, his face purple with fury. Standing in the doorway, looking as though he might collapse if he didn't have the doorframe to lean against, was Draco Malfoy.

Even from his place on the stairs, Harry could tell Draco was even worse off than when he had visited at the beginning of July. However, his feet did not seem to want to move forward.

"Well?" Uncle Vernon growled. "This freak was asking for you, said he's from your freak school."

That, more than anything, made Harry move. His eyes narrowed, and he leapt down the rest of the stairs.

"Don't call him that," he snarled, drawing his wand.

Uncle Vernon took a step back but kept the ugly look on his face. "Can't do anything, boy; you'll get expelled."

"It's past midnight," Harry said with a nasty smirk. "I'm seventeen now. I—"

"Harry..."

Harry turned to see Draco falling forward. He jerked forward to catch Draco, the momentum sending them both to the floor. Harry winced as his head collided with the wall but thankfully, Draco's had not. He hugged Draco as close as he dared, a hard lump forming in his throat when the blond did not even make a noise of protest. At least he was breathing. He wasn't dead.

There was a shriek. Harry looked over, expecting to see Hermione only to find Aunt Petunia standing there instead. His aunt was staring at Draco in horror, her hands over her mouth so she wouldn't scream again.

"Get him off my doorstep," Uncle Vernon hissed again.

"Vernon, look at him!" Aunt Petunia sputtered, her wide-eyes staring at him in disbelief. "We can't just—he needs help—go call an ambulance—"

"An ambulance isn't going to do him any good," Harry interrupted. He looked past Aunt Petunia at the stairs. "Ron! Hermione!"

He listened for a few moments and called again when he heard no movements. He didn't trust himself to Apparate alone with Draco in this condition, and he couldn't be in multiple places at once.

"Ron! Hermione!" he called a third time, feeling desperate.

Aunt Petunia let out a sudden sob. She spun around and, to Harry's amazement, dashed up the stairs and out of sight. The sound of a fist banging on a door and his aunt's shrill voice floated down to them and Harry felt a sudden affection for her.

The door to his room banged open. He could hear his aunt turn toward her room while his friends thundered toward the stairs.

"Harry, what's wrong? Your aunt said you—" Hermione gasped and stopped halfway down the stairs, staring at Harry and Draco with wide-eyes. Ron had already stopped several steps above her, his face blank as he stared at them.

Harry could only stare back, dumbfounded. Why had they stopped? Couldn't they see Draco needed help? Couldn't they see that obviously he needed their help or he would have already left? Why were they just standing there, staring at them.

"What's he doing here?" Ron growled out, looking disgusted.

"Ron!" Hermione said, though Harry could tell she felt much the same way.

"You remember what he's done to us, Hermione! The slimeball deserves to be chucked out into the street!"

"I'll close the door on both of you if you don't move" Uncle Vernon hissed.

Harry ignored him, hardly believing what was coming out of his best friend's mouth. He had never thought Draco was that horrible toward them, except perhaps the "Weasley is Our King" nonsense of fifth year. No matter what Draco had done, he did not deserve to be left to die. And obviously he was...

Harry couldn't finish the thought.

"He needs help," Harry said. "He's hurt. We need to get him to Grimmauld Place."

"Serves him right," Ron said, though Harry thought he saw a flicker of uncertainty in Ron's eyes.

His heart leapt to his throat as he heard Draco's breathing slow.

"Hermione," he pleaded, "please. He needs help. He'll die if we just leave him. Even Malfoy doesn't deserve that. Please."

Hermione stared at him. Her eyes slowly moved to stare at Draco, then back at him. After an impossibly long moment, she sighed and dashed down the stairs to his side.

Harry smiled gratefully at her. "Thank you."

"I'm only doing this because of what I heard between you two," she hissed, pointedly only so Harry would hear. "I agree with Ron; Malfoy got himself into this."

Harry had expected that, but it still hurt to hear it. He looked back up at Ron, who was staring at both of them like he had never known them before. "Ron," Harry said, praying the redhead would help, "could you go ahead to Grimmauld Place and tell whoever is there that we're coming. And ask them to get McGonagall or Pomfrey? And Remus, if he's not there."

Ron didn't move. For a moment, Harry thought he might turn around and go back to bed. Then Ron glanced at Hermione and, with a look that clearly said he was disgusted with himself, he Disapparated with a crack.

"I need your help to Apparate with him," Harry said to Hermione. "I don't want to move him, and I don't think I can do it safely on my own. Is there anyway we can Apparate straight into one of the bedrooms?"

Hermione nodded. "The Anti-Apparition wards Dumbledore put up have probably dissipated. On three?"

Harry grabbed her arm and thought hard about the room he had always stayed in. "On three. One, two, THREE!"

He turned as best he could with Draco weighing him down and felt Hermione turn beside him as well. He felt terrified as they passed through the horrible compression and landed in the bedroom in Grimmauld Place. Draco's breathing had grown shallower and raspy.

"Hang on," Harry whispered, brushing Draco's hair out of his face. "I can't help you if you die. I can't help anyone if you die."

"I'm going to go get help," Hermione said, rushing to the door.

The door slammed open before she could touch it. Harry breathed a sighed of relief when he saw Professor McGonagall and Lupin framed in the doorway.

Professor McGonagall's eyes landed on them and he hand flew to her chest. "Good heavens..."

"Draco Malfoy? What is he doing here?" Lupin questioned, thankfully without an accusatory tone.

"He's dying," Harry said. "He came to me for help. Please, Professor," he added, looking to his Head of House. "I know he's been really horrible, but no one deserves to die like this."

Professor McGonagall eyed him, torn between helping one of her students and helping the person responsible for Dumbledore's death. She finally whipped out his wand and pointed it at Draco. A flick had Draco floating out of Harry's arms and over to the bed.

"I think you should wait out in the hall, Potter. I promise, no harm will come to him."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry breathed. He got up and took a step toward the door. Hermione rushed to help him when he collapsed; his body was shaking too much for him to walk on his own. He determinedly clung to Hermione and kept moving; he couldn't stop now; he had to get help from more people he knew would not question his desperation.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked when he started down the stairs, clinging to the banisters for support.

"Getting more help," Harry answered. Once down the stairs, he began digging through his pockets for the eagle Aaron had given him years before. After the event in Knockturn Alley, he had taken to carrying his bonding items with him at all times, in case he needed to use them. He had felt extremely vulnerable when he had been attacked and they were far out of reach.

He sighed in relief as he pulled out the small model, ruffled but alive. He wrenched open the front door and stepped out into the night air, holding the eagle out in front of him.

"Go to Aaron. Make him come immediately," Harry said to the model. The eagle stretched its wings and flew off, disappearing into the distance faster than Harry could follow with his eyes.

But he knew Aaron would not be enough. He was not even sure Aaron would be able to help, but the ex-Hufflepuff at least needed to know that Draco had come back to them. Harry leapt down the front steps and tugged Kiran's dagger from his belt.

He knelt in the grass of the square and drove the dagger into the ground. He waited patiently for a moment, then several figures appeared in Kiran's usual rush of light and sound. There was Kiran and, to his surprise, Angelo, and a woman with a small child on her hip whom Harry did not immediately recognize.

"Thank Drakul," Angelo breathed as Harry pulled the dagger from the ground and stood. "Kiran said you had called him but we did not expect to meet you."

"What's going on?" Harry asked, glancing between them. As the woman shifted nervously, Harry suddenly realize where he had seen her before. He couldn't think of why he had missed it before. "I thought it was too dangerous for Dom to come anywhere near me. Not that it isn't great to see you," he added to Dominique.

She merely smiled and shook her head.

"We cannot talk here; we must get inside," Angelo said quickly. "They might be following us."

Harry nodded. "It's number twelve, Grimmauld Place," he said to Dominique; Angelo and Kiran already knew the houses location, as he had told them along with many of his other allies weeks ago.

"Thank you, Harry," Angelo said, guiding Dominique forward to the house. Kiran moved to follow them, but Harry grabbed his arm.

"I need you to go get the Weasley twins," Harry said, relieved that he could send someone to get them rather than going himself like he had originally planned. "Both of them. Draco's here, but he's hurt, and I need everyone I can to help him."

"Draco's here?" Kiran said, surprised.

"Yes, and he needs all the help he can get. The twins have had to heal themselves for years; I need their help."

Kiran opened his mouth to say something, but seemed to rethink it. "How badly hurt?" he finally asked.

"Enough that he should go to St. Mungo's," Harry said, "but we can't risk it. He'll get arrested if we take him there."

Kiran nodded and disappeared without another word in a burst of light feathers. Harry sheathed the dagger and turned to go back inside, but stopped short. Hermione stood in the doorway, a funny expression on her face.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, immediately concerned.

Hermione blinked and shook her head. "It's nothing. You should probably come back inside. Dominique's causing quite a stir."

"That's right, I need to find out what happened!" Harry thanked her and dashed inside. As soon as he stepped into the house, he heard raise voices coming from the drawing room and ran to investigate.

He paused when he entered the room, not that he had much choice. Angelo was standing just inside the door, blocking much of Harry's view of the room. What he could hear, however, told him that Mrs Weasley, Lupin, and Dominique were there too, and that told him enough.

But when he looked around Angelo's shoulder, he did not expect to see Mrs Wealsey holding Dominique and her child at wand point.

"What's going on?" Harry asked as he stepped out from behind Angelo. Everyone but Angelo looked at him in surprise.

"Mrs Weasley believes Dominique is a Death Eater," Angelo said, his eyes red with fury.

Harry had never thought he would be angry with Mrs Weasley, but that made him rethink it. "Put your wand down, Mrs Weasley. Dom is one of my allies."

"She can't be trusted," Mrs Weasley said, not moving.

"What makes you think that?"

"She's married to a Death Eater," Mrs Weasley said. "Are we allying with them now?"

"My husband is being tortured to insanity right now," Dominique said coldly; Harry admired her for being so calm when faced with Molly Weasley's wand. "He will be dead by sunrise. If I go home, my daughter and I will be killed as well."

Mrs Weasley pursed her lips, clearly touched as a fellow mother, but still did not lower her wand. Angelo narrowed his eyes and tensed as though to strike. Harry placed a light hand on his arm to calm him.

"Lower your wand, Mrs Weasley," he said coldly. "I will not have my allies fighting one another."

Then he stepped around Angelo and stood before Dominique, right in the path between her and Mrs Weasley's wand. He blinked in surprise; he was now a little taller than her and could look straight into her eyes.

"You've grown," Dom said, raising an eyebrow in surprise. "You're not a scrawny runt anymore."

"And you have only gotten prettier," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "My house is open to you whenever you need it."

Dominique smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Harry."

"And Draco's here too, but he's unconscious—"

"Draco?" Ron sputtered, alerting Harry to his presence for the first time. Harry glanced at him with burning eyes.

"Yes, Draco. He's my guest, just like Dom and Angelo and the others. You don't have to call him that, but I will." His gaze shifted to Mrs Weasley. "Half my allies from the Serpent Guard were in Slytherin. Any one of them could be a Death Eater. I trust all of them."

Mrs Weasley finally lowered her wand, though she looked thoroughly disgusted with herself.

"Angelo, could you help Dom and..." he glanced questioningly to Dominique.

"Michelle," Dominique said with a faint smile.

"...Dom and Michelle find a room?" Harry finished. "You're welcome to visit Draco, too. He'll probably appreciate it when he wakes up."

"Thank you again, Harry." Dominique pressed a light kiss to his cheek and moved into Angelo's arms as the two of them left the room.

Harry looked back at the rest of the group, his cold fury returning in full force. "It's late, I haven't slept, and a lot has happened. Let's go the bed and talk about all this in the morning."

"What is there to talk about?" Ron asked. "You're only helping Malfoy because he's hurt and came to you for help, right?"

"We'll talk in the morning," Harry repeated with a slight wince. "I need to go see if Kiran's back, and if Aaron's here, and how Draco's doing. It was nice seeing you again, Mrs Weasley."

He turned to leave and ran straight into a warm chest. Looking up, he saw that the chest belong to Aaron. Behind him in the hall stood the twins and Kiran, all four of them looking more serious than Harry could have believed possible.

"Where's Draco?" George asked.

"Not you too!" Ron groaned, but Harry ignored him.

"Down the hall, c'mon." Harry stepped past them and out into the hall. He could barely bring himself to look at Draco when he entered the room, only looking up when he heard Angelo and Dominique talking to Professor McGonagall.

The three of them glanced over as soon as they walked into the room.

"Well, Potter," Professor McGonagall said with a tone to her voice Harry had never heard deliver good news, "I've managed to stabilize him and put him into a magical coma so he won't get any worse. I still feel it would be best if we got him the help of someone who actually knows what she's doing."

"I won't take him to St. Mungo's," Harry said firmly. "I'd be willing to let Madam Pomfrey come, and I got the twins to come see if they could help."

Fred and George grinned and waved amicably to their old Head of House.

Professor McGonagall eyed them dubiously but nodded to Harry. "I will ask Poppy if she will come. Do you have a note with the address?"

"Remus should have the one I wrote for the Order," Harry said. Professor McGonagall nodded grimly and strode out of the room.

Harry moved to Draco's bedside, finally staring down at him. Draco's breathing was even and slow, and much of the blood that had clung to his skin had been cleaned off. A few of the older bruises and shallower cuts were gone too, but a bandage was now wrapped around his head and his robes were still as torn and dirty as before.

"How did this happen?" Angelo whispered at his shoulder.

"Voldemort's been torturing him for the last month," Harry said. He wanted to look away but was half afraid something would happen if he did.

"We are very lucky he is alive," Angelo said. "He is severely injured, bleeding internally, and would probably have gone into a coma even if Professor McGonagall had not put him into one. If he were not a wizard, he would be dead."

Dominique made a sudden move and grabbed Angelo's arm. "You will need a room here too, won't you? Let's go pick one out."

Angelo turned to look at her, his eyes red with bloodlust and anger.

"I would like to stay," Angelo said softly. "I want to—"

"Actually, I think that's a great idea," Harry said loudly, startling the vampire. "I'd like you to stay nearby until he's a little better, if that's alright."

Angelo stared at him for a moment and ducked his head with a smile. "I would stay even if you had not asked. I will need a room without windows," he said to Dominique as he followed her out of the room. Kiran glanced at Draco and headed after them.

"Kiran didn't say he was this bad," George said.

"Kiran didn't know how bad it was," Harry said, kneeling down beside Draco's bed. "I didn't know until now..."

"He won't be in danger as long as he is in this coma," Aaron said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I trust McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey and Fred and George. I don't think you could have better people helping him."

"Yeah, he'll be all right," Fred said. "He's got you to fight for, after all."

Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"We'll go talk to mum and Ron. You get some sleep," George said.

Harry nodded again, not really hearing them. He waited for the three of them to leave before getting up to shut the door. He almost didn't make it back to Draco's side before everything that had happened caught up with him and his exhaustion and he passed out.