Disclaimer: Harry Potter, its characters, locations, and themes belong to J.K. Rowling and Scholastic Books. This author makes no claim on them or any other part of the Harry Potter sensation; only the original characters, places, and plot belong to this author.

ooOoOoo

AN: Sorry so long, but this chapter has been sitting in my hard drive since the end of April. I still haven't heard back from my beta on this chapter and my internet access is very limited so it has been near impossible for me to touch this. Hope my own editing job was sufficient, even it if took me two and a half months to do it.

WARNING: Alternate universe Ignores all books after Book 4. Some original characters. Future slash pairing, meaning in a male homosexual relationship. This won't show up for a while, but the warning is still here. If you don't like it, then why are you reading it?

Pairings: HP/DM; RW/HG

ooOoOoo

..:Draconis Sanguen:..

Chapter 6

Iron gated sconces evenly spaced about the circular room slowly awakened with peridot light, chasing away the shadows that lingered by the dying light of the hearth. Shifting within the warm silky cocoon of his bed, Draco ignored the mounting light as he buried his face in his pillow. One arm struggled to pull the thick bedding over his head as he drew a knee to his chest, the other leg peering from the evergreen bedding. In the ever increasing light, the blonde Slytherin struggled to hold on to the dreams that silently slipped from his grasp as he burrowed in the layers of his bedcovers.

Beside the shifting Slytherin, the shadowy form of his canine companion peered from beneath the slim corner of silk that pooled over his muzzled. Shaking the fabric from its perch, the dog yawned, arching his back to stretch his muscles. Like water upon a moonless night, his impossibly dark fur rippled in the growing light as the muscles and bones beneath shifted, the thick pelt regressing, leaving the long form of Sirius Black to stretch out upon the large bed.

From amidst the waves of silk, brocade, and velvet, the older man huffed indignantly at his cramped position, pushed near the edge of the bed by his slumbering bedmate. Running a hand through his dark hair, Sirius smiled as his charge buried further into the coverlet, mumbling incoherently. Sliding off of the bed, careful not to wake his young cousin, Sirius slipped out of the room and into the adjacent bathroom, his dark eyes watching the blonde vigilantly until the door closed behind him.

As one door closed, the portal to the Slytherin common room and dorms opened, admitting a tired Pansy Parkinson, her blonde hair stained dark by the water from her morning shower, dressed in a midnight blue dressing gown. Standing at her friend's bedside, she smiled wearily, pushing back the covers and pressing her hand to his forehead softly. Finding no sign of the previous night's fever, she lightly shook the boy who protested at the arousal. Rolling away from the annoyance, the silk sheets spilled onto the bed, exposing his nude body to his fellow Slytherin. Ignoring the boy's new found nudity, Pansy simply pushed him harder.

Sleepy silver eyes cracked open to meet with irritated cerulean before closing once more as hands searched for the missing coverlet. "G'way, P'nsy."

"Draco Malfoy, if you do not get your pallid arse out of this bed within the next two minutes, I swear to Morgana I will turn you inside out and leave your organs for the pigeons to dine on in Muggle London." Pansy stated flatly before turning to face the black leather couch where Blaise lay awake, his sleep disturbed by the volume of Pansy's voice.

"Good morning Pansy," Blaise whispered drowsily. "How is our patient this morning?" Yawning, he rubbed his eyes in a child-like manner.

"He seems to be fine Blaise." Pansy responded softly, her eyes flickering to the porcelain form of their prodigal friend. "His fever has disappeared and he's just as impossible to wake in the mornings as he was before he left."

Nodding, Blaise stood, using the couch to steady himself as waves of dizziness passed through him, his head pounding painfully. Bringing a hand to his temples, he carefully massaged the pulsating points. "That's better than him not waking up at all," he responded rather sharply.

Blanching, Pansy stepped back, her eyes darkening before regaining her poise. "Yes, well, I just came in to remind you and Draco that the prefect meeting will begin in an hour. As our Head Boy, Draco's presence is required, illness or no illness. Slytherins are nothing without their image. If you require nothing else, I will take my leave." Not bothering to wait for a dismissal, she left, her head held high.

"Pansy…I didn't mean…I…damn it…" Blaise cursed, his head falling into his hands. Sighing, he raked a hand through his unruly sable curls.

Approaching the bed, he shook his head at the still sleeping form of his friend. Reaching out, he pushed the stray strands of silver blonde from the boy's sleeping face. Nostalgia swept through him as he stood there, gazing down at his best friend. With a mischievous grin upon his face, he removed his wand from his pocket and, with a complex pattern of waves, a symphony of noise echoed throughout the quarters. The sound of muggle airplanes taking off mixed with explosions and the wailing sirens, resonating about the room.

Silver eyes opened wide, darting about the room rapidly, as Draco sat up violently within his plush setting. Seeing only the grinning form of his friend, Draco's eyes narrowed, swirling to quicksilver as the mountain of pillows around him. The pillows that had surrounded him throughout the night now rose, speeding through the air to pelt the dark haired Slytherin. Blaise backed away laughing, batting at the airborne cushions. Smiling slightly at the sight, Draco watched as Blaise retreated with a wink.

Alarmed by the sounds outside the door, Sirius resisted the urge to rush through the bathroom door and into the Head Boy's room. Reminding himself that Blaise was still in the room, he perched near the door, an eavesdropping spell in place. Upon hearing the portal close, Sirius waited an impatiently timed ten minutes before slipping from the bathroom in his canine form, just in case another Slytherin still lingered in his charge's room.

To his exasperation, he found Draco once more curled within the warmth of his duvet, his head peering out of the otherwise indistinguishable bundle. Rolling his eyes, he smoothly transformed back to his human form and vocally activated the complex wards and numerous locking charms on the room, ensuring that he was not seen nor interrupted. With an evil gleam in his eyes, he promptly strode over to the bed and lifted the boy from the warmth of the bed. Ignoring Draco's nudity, he walked into the bathroom, moving to stand beside the bathtub.

Silver-gray eyes fluttered open as Draco's mouth opened to protest the familiar morning wake up call, only to freeze as he was dropped into a bathtub full of cold water. Eyes wide and unable to speak, Sirius fell to the ground laughing at the boy's appearance of sheer indignance, an expression that soon melted to outrage.

Sirius quickly held his hands up in the universal gesture of harmlessness, his eyes twinkling as he repressed the humor of the situation. "See now, little cousin, you should have woken up when your friends told you to. One shook you awake; the other gave you an alarm that would have woken up the entire school if not for the silencing spells on this room…how did you expect me to wake you up?" Noting the mounting rage of the boy, Sirius scrambled from the floor and fled the room, ducking beneath the bed and holding silently still to avoid detection.

From his perch in bathtub, Draco chuckled at his cousin's actions. With a secretive smile, the Slytherin charmed the water warm with a wave of his hand before relaxing in the large marble tub. Closing his eyes, he allowed the silence and steam to surround him, clearing his mind, loosing himself in the scent of amber, lavender and sandalwood.

ooOoOoo

Resting his head against the cool smooth surface of the Ouroboros, Blaise fought the tides of nausea that swept through his body. In the dim lights of Hogwarts dungeon, the sharp piercing pain at his temples settled to a throbbing familiar ache, driven by the volume of the playful alarm he had set off only moments before. The energy that had, just previously, seemed endless, left his system. Lethargy now swept through his veins as he leaned heavily against his best friend's door.

Midnight blue eyes that, he knew, had just sparkled with merriment, were now deadened, glazed over by pain and weariness. Forcing a hand back to the center of the Ouroboros, Blaise leaned heavily against the door as it swung open, barely righting himself as he lost his support. Stumbling into the room, he made his way to the small bedside table. The familiar chest that lay open upon the chest sent his heart racing, the sharp pounding upon his temple practically fading as his fingers traced over the assorted vials.

Sliding an unlabeled vial out of its small hole, Blaise puzzled over the silver liquid. The potion chest had been a gift to Draco from Professor Snape and was often stocked with common potions. It had often prevented the Slytherins from trips to the Infirmary and, to Draco's delight, had even contained a few rare elixirs they had put to good use. A smile came to Blaise's face as he remembered the results of the Confusing Concoction on a small group of Hufflepuffs. Over time, Draco had used his own abilities to restore the chests contents, adding to the variety found within. Apparently, this was a newer one. Shaking his head slightly, he replaced the silver concoction, ignoring the empty space behind it.

Finding the two carefully labeled potions he desired, Blaise closed the chest. Sitting upon the bed, he tipped back the first. Immediately, his migraine receded, leaving his body free of the aches and nausea that were so common with his headaches. Sighing, he took the second, which quickly reenergized his fatigued body. Stretching, he placed the two emptied vials beside the lone empty vial beside the chest before approaching the bathroom door.

"Draco, you have fifteen minutes!"

ooOoOoo

Hogwarts rules dictate that each of the four houses be represented by two prefects, one of each gender, for each year from fifth year up, for a total of twenty four prefects. These twenty four individuals would be lead by a Head Boy and Head Girl; both of whom were chosen from the seventh year and had often been prefects themselves, although this was not the rule. Their duties ranged from discipline to advising the younger students; however, in the darker times that had descended upon Hogwarts, this group of students was now used as a method of warfare. For the past two years, despite Voldemort's quiet nature, the Prefects had helped to comfort those victims to his crimes, counsel those who may have fallen to his shadowy ranks, and helped prepare students for the upcoming war in a supplemental Defense Arts practice.

Hermione Granger, the new Head Girl, briefly looked over her notes as she gazed at the clock, her mind churning with questionable thoughts. She had expected that Terry Boot would be nominated as Head Boy, yet, she was now faced with Draco Malfoy as her counterpart. With Terry Boot, a Ravenclaw that had been a Prefect since his fifth year nomination, an intelligent and organized classmate, she would have been at ease, but Malfoy was a symbol of so much more.

She would never dispute the fact that Malfoy was intelligent, privately; however, the past two years had shaped the Prefects into so much more than a disciplinary unit. They were a symbol and acted with more power. Hermione, herself, had been active in preparing students for War. Being best friends with Harry Potter and privilege to his confidence had brought the realism of the world with it. She knew the dangers that lurked in the most innocent of faces. And Draco Malfoy…

The door to the meeting room slammed closed, jerking Hermione from her thoughts. With those thoughts, it seemed, Draco Malfoy had been conjured, followed silently by the six Slytherin Prefects in a display of solidarity. Glancing about the room, Hermione found that the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs had already arrived. Sighing, she noted that it would be her own house that would arrive last.

Steadily ignoring the blonde as he settled into the seat beside her, at the head of the table, Hermione glanced at the clock. Noting the time, she rearranged her notes and laid down her quill, her eyes peering curiously at the young man beside her.

Draco Malfoy, who had arrived with such flourish just the evening before, was now dressed in the standard black robes of Hogwarts. Although she had seen him in such attire for the four years he had attended Hogwarts, the material almost seemed alien to him now. The loose flowing shirt and snakeskin pants from the evening before seemed more appropriate. It appeared as though he would agree as he pulled at the neck of his finely tailored robes and shifted uncomfortably in the material. His actions almost reminded her of a first year muggle-born, not as though she would say so to him, she thought with a smile.

At five minutes past the hour, Hermione cleared her throat, gaining the attention of the room. "Despite our lack of attendees, the first official meeting of Hogwarts Prefects shall commence. Anything of importance can simply be relayed to the absent students at the conclusion of the meeting." With nods from all, she continued. "Let it be noted, that I, Hermione Granger, have been nominated as this year's Head Girl."

"So noted and acknowledged." The Prefects murmured in acceptance.

Draco shifted in his chair, leveling gazes with the students about the room as he spoke. "Make it noted that I, Draco Malfoy, am this year's Head Boy."

The Slytherins smirked at their leader's forceful statement, proudly stating their agreement, quickly echoed by the Hufflepuffs. The Ravenclaws gazed at him momentarily before quietly adding their agreements, a statement that was drug out by a reluctant Terry Boot.

"So noted and acknowledged."

Silver eyes flickered in triumph at the empty Gryffindor chairs. Nodding at the Prefects, Draco leaned back in his chair, his head casually turned up as a picture of casual indifference.

Sighing, Hermione murmured the acknowledgement of the Prefects before continuing. "So noted. First on this morning's agenda, Filch has complained to the Headmaster about the string of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes products that are being used by students. Since the opening of their shop, we have to keep our eyes open for such items, as well as other items that have been deemed forbidden by staff. As Prefects, please remember that you are an example. This means that you can not be seen with such items either."

The younger Prefects sighed in disappointment, otherwise joining in the acknowledgement that flowed through the group.

"Second, please note that one of your duties as Prefect is to patrol Hogwarts. A schedule will be posted by the end of this week, so please let me know in writing if there is a specific time or night you will be unable to patrol on a regular basis. Malfoy and I will be working on the schedule as soon as possible."

Brown eyes met with silver as the Slytherin leader nodded stiffly in acknowledgement of the unspoken demand of his time.

"We will also be creating the schedule for the Defense Arts sessions. Just as last year, this program is open to all students; however, in order to streamline the program, the classes will be sorted by year and experience. It is your duty as a Prefect to assist in training other students, as well as gain the training and experience to defend your fellow classmates. Defense Arts classes meet weekly and will start one month into the year. Fifth year students will meet with Professor Lupin to begin your own, more advanced, training next week. He will schedule these lessons."

Once again, the youngest Prefects looked ruffled at the amount of responsibility being thrust upon them. Their eyes were wide with the amount of work they would encounter with their position, their mouths open, ready to protest.

"Please remember, we are at war. Despite what some may say, how people may act, Voldemort is alive. The war that played out before some of us were born has been brought back to life with him. It is our duty to help those around us prepare for this as well. No matter what side we may take," she said, the passion leaking through her voice as she gazed at the Slytherins, "we are all united here, at Hogwarts. Hogwarts, for these months, is our home. She holds us within her protection and allows us to expand our knowledge without the harsh realities of war to pervade our senses. Yet, when we leave her embrace, we will be forced to face the realities we have eluded. That war is real, that our lives are in danger, and that this world, in which some of us have been graciously accepted and others have been so fortuitously born into, is coming to arms. Our duty is not just to aid those around us presently, but to prepare them for a time in which we will not be there to aid them."

The fifth year prefects, and even the sixth year, now sat proudly still, their thoughts no longer on their lost time, but rather on their gained opportunities.

Smiling, Hermione sat back down, blushing lightly under the scrutiny of her peers. Clearing her throat, she shuffled her papers. "I give the floor to Head Boy Draco Malfoy."

With a sharp nod, Draco stood. "Thank you, Granger, for such a passionate speech." He said with a smirk. The blush that had begun to recede from Hermione's cheeks flared once more; however, her Gryffindor pride forced her to face the scrutiny of her peers unflinchingly.

At that exact moment, the door opened, admitting a sheepish Ron Weasley, followed by the remainder of the Gryffindor Prefects. The group quickly moved to their seats, quietly giving their apologies along the way. The pleading look that Ron shot towards his girlfriend was ignored as Hermione refused to look in his direction.

Clearing his throat, Draco gained the attention of the Prefects once again and was rewarded with wide eyes from the Gryffindor Prefects. "As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted," a glare was quickly shot to the annoyed Weasley, "I shall not attempt to out do the Head Girl's zealous speech. I will simply add to her thoughts. I have been away from England for little more than two years and seen, first hand, how this war has spread beyond our boarders. War…I hate words such as war. It is a word that is so small and simple, with a meaning so complex and consequences that will span the world. So many people decorate the truths of war as a battle for a cause, for proving a point in life right. But the truth of war is very simple, despite its origin and motivations. People will die. It is not the humane death that you and I wish for, but a blessing found amidst a sea of pain. And for many of us that will battle, the end is found long before our time has been spent. It matters not your opinion, it matters not which 'side' you join; there will be death. That same wand you have learned to wield within our classrooms will be transformed into a weapon as it is used to kill, or be used to kill you."

"This battle will be wizard against wizard, brethren against brethren. Childhood no longer has a place in our lives as we will be forced to ask the difficult questions, answering even worse along the way, because who we face on the battlefield tomorrow may be a classmate or friend of today. When we enter the field for war, the tools we have learned here within our school will be the tools we defend ourselves, our families, our very world with. These are the tools that you, as a Prefect, will share. This conflict is greater than you or I; it is greater than any one person within this room. We are all tools within the War. But with the knowledge that may gain, you become more than a tool, you become an asset. So, become assets, not just to this school, but to the community that has welcomed you into its fold. Become the witch or wizard that this world accepted you to become."

With a glance to the clock, Draco ignored the wide eyed looked he had gathered. "This meeting is dismissed." Standing, the Slytherins followed his example, moving to follow him as he exited the room. The door quietly closed, leaving a group of shocked Prefects and a thoughtful Head Girl in his wake.

ooOoOoo

Harry Potter, infamous The-Boy-Who-Lived and resident 'Golden Boy' of Gryffindor, stormed through the hallways of Hogwarts angrily. Remus had promised that Sirius would return, yet, upon awakening, there had been no sign of the canine within Gryffindor Tower. The resentment at his Godfather's casual dismissal of him, followed by forgetting about him, had built into a rage.

Pushing the doors to the Great Hall open roughly, Harry ignored the greeting from any other students, heading straight to his usual seat at Gryffindor table. Spearing at the breakfast platters angrily, he began to viciously tear into his breakfast, disregarding his fellow Gryffindors. Across from him, Hermione and Ron looked at him wearily, exchanging a brief identical look of concern before returning their attention to their own breakfast.

"So," Hermione began, "at least Defense against the Dark Arts is going to be taught by Professor Lupin again. He was a wonderful teacher. He should prepare us for our NEWTs splendidly. Don't you think, Harry?" Her question was met with a dark look, to which she pressed on. "The Advanced Magicks class we are all signed up for should make the NEWTs revisions I've began to plan easier as well. I'm rather eager to see what we'll be covering in that class."

Ron, seeing Harry's ever darkening look, interrupted the conversation. "So, Harry, I was thinking that Quidditch team tryouts should be held next week. Give everyone time to get back into the pattern with school, and give us enough time to practice with the new students, don't you think?"

Harry's face warmed up a bit as he looked at the Gryffindor Quidditch Team Captain. "Alright, Ron. It sounds good." Beside them, Hermione remained silent, noting that Harry's ill temper was fading with the discussion of the wizarding sport.

"I was thinking, last night," Ron began.

"You, thinking? I never would have guessed." Harry barbed.

"Shut up Harry." Ron said with a laugh. "Seriously, since Malfoy is back, do you think Slytherin'll make him their Seeker again? Zabini has been a right good Seeker, but with Malfoy back, what do you think?"

"Does it matter?" Harry asked with indifference. "Ron, you're a bloody brilliant strategist. Malfoy, I'm sure, won't be a problem for you." Ron flustered at the praise. "Besides, I am the youngest Seeker ever." Harry stated with exaggerated arrogance before shaking his head. "Whatever the Slytherins plan to do, let them do. No one has beat you at chess yet Ron, I'll wager that will be the same for Quidditch."

ooOoOoo

Pausing to glance down at the schedule Professor Snape had handed to him before heading to a meeting, Draco scanned the classes for the day. N.E.W.T. level Charms followed by N.E.W.T. level Defense against the Dark Arts. After lunch was N.E.W.T. level Transfiguration, an extended break, and finally Advanced Magicks, all shortly before dinner. Sighing, he raked a hand through his hair that hung loose, framing his face. A push from behind reminded him of the canine that had followed him from the dungeons.

Looking down, he raised an eyebrow in question. Receiving a whimper, the grim grabbed hold of the sleeve of his robe and pulled him to the door of the Great Hall before scratching at the immovable doors. With a small bow to the dog, Draco opened the doors, allowing his Animagi cousin to enter before him.

Making his way to the Slytherin table, Draco ignored the stares and whispers that followed him. It was a sharp hand that had grabbed hold of his arm, jerking him around to face his attacker, and a sharp voice that directed the attention of his narrowed silver eyes.

Before him stood an enraged Harry Potter, whose sable locks that usually lay in casual disarray seemed to follow their master's temperament as they flared wildly in uncontrollable waves. Bright green eyes were narrowed behind thick round spectacles. The wizard seemed to tremble with anger, his magic beginning to build within him, swirling beneath the breaking point as his fingers drifted close to his wand.

"Potter." Draco said with casual indifference, his eyes focused upon his rival's wand hand, knowing a threat when one was issued. "How might I assist you this fine morning?"

All eyes were on the two boys. The students that had attended Hogwarts while Draco had still attended were well aware of the animosity that brewed between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. Those that had begun after Draco's fourth year, however, had only heard tales, the exaggerated stories of the hatred between the two spokesmen of the two rival houses. They had heard of their duels, of their Quidditch matches, their arguments, and, now, they were witnessing the legends with their own eyes.

"Shut up Malfoy. I just want to know why he's with you." Harry stated, his teeth grinding together.

Tilting his head to the side, blinking in confusion, Draco looked around. "Potter, I do believe you are seeing things. If you see someone with me, pray tell me who that someone is so that I can have a Banishing Ritual performed post haste. I do despise when pests follow me about. On that note, thank you for rescuing me from the terrible phantom spirit. You have performed your good deed for the day, now do leave me alone. As I said, I hate to have pests following me around."

Green eyes darkened with anger at Malfoy's arrogance. Reaching out, he grabbed collar of the blonde's robe and pulled him close, his voice low as he spoke. "The dog, Malfoy. Why is he following you?"

Draco's eyes widened as he met green unflinchingly. Blinking, he chuckled well humouredly. "Perhaps, Potter, because I was about to feed him. Canines, like humans, do require a specific caloric intake. They are also creatures of habit. And seeing as I have been providing this creature with his meals for the past two years, Merlin forbid he expect I provide today's."

The creature of subject had made its way to the two rivals and, with careful force, had taken to tugging upon the brunette's robes, a light growl resonating in his throat. Harry turned to look at the dog, a flash of betrayal alight in his eyes before disappearing in a swirl of emerald. With a sharp push backwards, he released his blonde adversary, watching emotionlessly as Blaise Zabini caught hold of the falling form.

Draco pushed away from his friend, meeting eyes in appreciation, before turning back to the Gryffindor. Clicking his tongue, he gazed expectantly at the large black dog. For a moment, it seemed to the audience as if the dog were caught in a moment of hesitation, caught between obedience to his Slytherin master and a Gryffindor defender. Yet, with a bowed head, the grim look alike approached Draco, standing beside him.

Harry's green eyes that had once merely flickered with betrayal, now shattered with incomprehensible hurt and treason. Ignoring the dark orbs that sought to explain with a long pleading look, he met eyes with gloating silver. Rage surged through him and with that, came his magic.

With honed senses, Draco's stance straightened. Pushing his Animagi cousin behind him, he positioned himself in front of the small number of Slytherins that had joined the witnesses to support him. He could feel that, in forcing Sirius to come to him, he had broken the fragile control that the Gryffindor held upon his emotions. Apparently, Potter had already felt some amount of anger and betrayal, Draco thought.

With practiced ease, both students pulled out their wands at the same time. Yet, while Harry fell into attack formation, Draco fell into his own defensive stance which was a mixture of magical defense as well as martial arts. Adrenaline surged through the two as they stared, each preparing for battle.

With a sharp wave, Harry began the battle with a simple Conjunctivitis Curse. Smirking, he watched as his opponent's eyes quickly turned red and watered. Following his curse, he rapidly followed, whispering his next spell. "Incarcerous."

Draco could feel the burning of his eyes as he closed them. Raising a hand, he pressed his own wand to his eyes, quietly murmuring "Sano" to heal the damage done by his rival's inflammation spell. The ropes he had not seen from the Gryffindor's wand quickly wrapped around his body, however, his arm was left free from his body, allowing him to focus his energy to a very low level spell. "Diffindo" he stated calmly, severing his binds. Smirking, he slid back into his defense stance. "Please, Potter, even I am able to acknowledge that these third year charms are far below your capabilities. If you are going to challenge me, then challenge me. Otherwise, do not inconvenience me with such a paltry performance."

Smirking, Harry acknowledged his words. "Malfoy, you might find this one a bit 'low level' but you taught it to me. It brings back memories. Serpensortia."

A long slender snake made its way from the Gryffindor's wand, its golden underbelly touching down upon the ground, coiling in defense against the crowd of students. Draco's eyes lit up at the round face and familiar dark red-brown scales of the serpent. The dark haired wizard soon began to whisper in Parseltongue, urging the snake towards his opponent.

Turning his head, Draco caught Blaise's attention. "A Taipan," he stated with a smirk, his silver eyes glittering as he watched, entranced by the serpent. "Potter's trying to control a Taipan." The two Slytherins watched as the snake drew away from the Gryffindor, hissing in warning. Draco calmly approached the dangerous snake, cautiously watching both his opponent and the creature, knowing that either could cause the snake to attack, before softly whispering his own spell "Evanesco" and watching the summoned creature disappear.

Jerking his eyes from where the snake had once laid, Draco stared at the hero of the Wizarding world, seeing the child that had refused his friendship. "Apparently, Potter, you are unable to comprehend just what type of duel I was expecting when you challenged me." Narrowing his eyes, he moved into offensive. His words were the only warning he gave before he began his onslaught of spells. "Timor" he whispered darkly.

Dark fog poured into the room as a sense of anxiety and fear pervaded Harry's senses. It was similar to the sensations of the Dementor, yet there were no screams, no cries, and no Voldemort.

"Speculum" Draco whispered, his silky voice ripe with dark promises.

Suddenly, the very things that were not, were. The screams echoed through Harry's ears as the green light filled the mirror that had created itself from the fog in front him. The very nightmare that had played out within his head so many times now made itself real.

"Fracta" Harry spoke coldly, watching the image of his mother shatter into mere fragments of glass that vanished into smoke. Gazing up, he met with cold eyes, eyes that knew of his fears, his weaknesses, as well as his hopes and dreams. It mattered not the time that had passed, Malfoy was the same wizard who knew him, not for fame, but for the child inside.

"Morus" He stated, wanting nothing more than the pain within him to be manifested upon his opponent.

"Contego" Draco responded, feeling the pain curse absorb into his shield.

"Malus Memoria" Harry sent, watching the spell grow closer his shocked opponent, knowing that emotional spells were impossible to shield against. Shield would absorb the magic, which would, in essence, apply them to the person's magic, causing the spell to be cast. Unless the counter spell was known, his spell would cause Malfoy to relive his worst memory in full detail, as if he were there once again.

The triumph that surged through him was quickly assuaged as his opponent fell upon one knee, his eyes tightly closed, the thick material of his robes clutched in his fists. The eyes of the entire hall were focused upon the kneeling Head Boy as he trembled. Harry's mind quickly awoke with guilt, thinking over what his own worst memory would be attempting to believe what his own experience might be to relive such an event.

Rushing to his fallen enemy, Harry called the blonde's name multiple times, ignoring the Slytherins that now flocked around their leader. Careful not to touch him, lest he be pulled into the memory as well, he waved a hand in front of the glazed eyes. Yet, nothing could capture the attention of the Head Boy as he was lost in tormenting memories.

ooOoOoo

The Professors of Hogwarts and their esteemed Headmaster made their way towards the Great Hall. The morning meeting had gone no better than the evening meeting, leaving them in bad humor. Arguments over the appointment of Head Boy, as well as a debate over the syllabus for the Advanced Magicks course, had lead into further debates over the views of light and dark magic and personal views of many situations at Hogwarts. Overall, the Professors were left with nothing more than headaches and ill tempers from their morning convene.

Potions Master Severus Snape was first to pass through the door and into the Great Hall, where upon, he wished he could turn and exit at the sight of a crowd congregating upon a single point. This immediately meant that something that happened. Something he was sure he did not wish, nor did he have the patience, to deal with.

Pushing his way through the crowd of students, the Professor soon found himself confronted with a sight reminiscent of years past. His godson was kneeling upon the ground, his normally bright eyes now dull grey. Beside him was Harry Potter, his green eyes dark with worry as he waved his wand fruitlessly. Anger surged through him, immediately recognizing the scene for what it was. Dark eyes narrowed his pale skin coloring as his face contorted with rage.

"One hundred points, Mr. Potter, for the malicious attack on your fellow student and Head Boy."

Wide green eyes turned and stared at the Potions Master. Yet, before Harry could begin to speak, the Professor turned his attention to the anxious tanzanite gaze of another Slytherin student.

"Zabini, take Master Malfoy to the infirmary immediately." Snape growled out. "Tell Madame Pomfrey I will be there momentarily."

Blaise nodded, removing the blonde Slytherin from the Great Hall with a quick "Mobillicorpus."

As the doors to the Great Hall shut behind them, Snape slowly turned toward the frozen Gryffindor. His dark eyes were fiery, his venomous words prepared… "Mr. Potter," he hissed.

"-will receive fifty points for helping a fallen student. An additional ten points as you looked beyond past rivalries to help your fellow classmate." Headmaster Dumbledore interrupted as he made his way beside the outraged Potions Master. "Another twenty-five pointsto Mr. Potter for keeping a cool head in such an unfortunate situation." Blue eyes twinkled merrily as the man concentrated. "And, ten points to each house for remaining calm. Now, Mr. Potter, if you will please meet me in my office before your first class, I believe we may sort this out."

With those words, Severus Snape turned on his heal, his glare sending the students that stood in his way scattering, exiting the Great Hall, his black robes flaring behind him dramatically.

"And, Mr. Longbottom," the Headmaster added, smiling as he watched the livid professor exit the Hall, "fifteen points for not fainting in the path of an enraged Professor Snape."

ooOoOoo

Dull lifeless eyes slowly regained their shine as grey swirled to silver. Shaking his head, Draco slowly sat up in the infirmary bed, one hand slowly moving to cover his eyes. Breathing deeply, his whispered words echoed through the room. "It's over… thank Merlin it's over…"

A warm hand gently fell upon his shoulder, moving in slow circles upon his back as another arm encircled him, pulling him to the broad expanse of his visitor's chest. Draco soon found himself surrounded by the soothing scent of citrus. His head upon the offered chest, he listened the steady rhythm of his best friend's heart.

"Looks like those Auror lessons they've been giving Potter are paying off." Blaise said dryly.

Intertwining a hand in the thin silky fabric of his friend's shirt, he replied tonelessly. "Mother always said true pain is not found in bodily afflictions, but in matters of the mind and heart." The arms around him tightened. "I suppose Potter is taking a bit of her advice in this, not that he didn't try physical pain as well. Looks like his Gryffindor morals are taking a beating in this War, as I am sure that he never would have used a spell like that before."

"Yeah, well a lot of things change with the War." Blaise whispered, his fingers running through the silky blonde strands of hair absently. "Draco…what did you see?" He questioned, his voice nothing more than a whisper.

Sitting up abruptly, Draco shuttered from the loss of warmth. "What did you ask?"

Louder, his voice stronger, Blaise pressed forward. "When Potter used that spell, what did you see? Your worst memory, what was it?"

His voice bordering on hysterical, Draco pushed Blaise from him as his friend sought to comfort him once more. "What did I see? What did I see? Why should I tell you what I saw?"

Standing, Blaise towered over his friend. "You were gone for two years Draco! I have been working my arse off here to keep our plans running. You have trusted me to keep these people safe here. You have trusted me with your plans, your confidence, and your secrets. Yet, you return and suddenly your trust in me has evaporated? Your faith in Slytherin has been destroyed! Your secrets are eating you from the inside and you refuse to release them. What are you hiding from us that is so terrible that you can not even look at me when I ask you of their nature!"

Grabbing a hold of Draco's chin, Blaise forced him to look up, meeting eye to eye. "So I will ask again, Slytherin to Slytherin, comrade to comrade, ally to ally…friend to friend. What did you see?"

Silver eyes met with blue violet, two unnatural colors held in a long gaze, measuring, weighing, and deciding. Trailing away from the scrutiny, Draco found himself looking into the mirror that was placed so innocently behind his friend. And from those reflective depths, the haunting images of that memory appeared.

The chains that had hung for so long within the small room once again became useful as they bit sharply into the girl's fragile skin. Once pure crimson blood stained burgundy as it dried around the shackles that held her mercilessly captive against the icy stone walls. Her thin gown provided little warmth against the draft that flowed through the dungeon room while she huddled tightly in a ball, her dull green eyes gazing dully at freedom beyond the bars that she would never gain.

Thin fingers trailed over the half filled bottles by the dungeon door before wrapping tightly around the cold iron bars. Silver hair drifting within the room as his head leaned against the familiar bars.

Quicksilver orbs gazed at the girl who had been beaten nearly unrecognizable. Yet, the auburn locks, no matter how bloodstained they may have been, told him of the harsh reality crashing into his world. The beautiful red curls that he had teased the girl for, so childishly and carelessly, now hung in unkempt tangles. Her beautiful face and lively green eyes reduced to stains of black and purple.

"Daphne…Daph…" He called quietly, hoping to gain his fellow Slytherin's attention.

Deadened green eyes slowly turned to him, painful recognition lighting within her eyes as the tears she had refused to shed before appeared within her eyes. Her ruined mouth slowly moved to speak, yet her voice had been lost in the screams of days and hours before.

"Don't speak Daphne…I'll get you out of here, I promise." He whispered, reaching for her through the bars. "I always follow through when I promise something, don't I?" Heavily leaning against the bars, he slid to the floor, hysteria playing through his voice. "Just like when I promised you Potter wouldn't win every Quidditch match! I dressed up like a Dementor in third year to make sure he would loose…just to help keep that promise to you. I mean, I know that dressing like a Dementor didn't work, but I still kept my promise didn't I? Don't make me break this one, Daphne."

Green eyes closed as a painful smile danced upon her battered face. Looking at him fondly, she slowly mouthed her words to him.

Silver eyes widened before hesitant resignation appeared within their satin depths. Stiffly standing, he stood straight and gazed levelly at the girl before him. A deep breath was slowly released as he brought his hand to his wand. He eyes searched her, memorizing every bruise, every break of skin, every painful mark that dressed his childhood friend. Giving a soft smile, he nodded and whispered. "I promised you…" Slender fingers withdrew the smooth white wand. "And I always keep my promises."

The green of her eyes filled the room, wrapping him in cold comfort.

"Fly away and be free, Daphne." He whispered before turning, the hard sole of his shoes echoing in the dark passageway as he made his way back to the laughing crimson eyes that had driven him to the point of no return.

Shaken from his memory, Draco pushed away from his friend. Silver eyes shut down, the shields that had allowed such exposure forcibly in place once more. "Nothing," he replied harshly. "I saw nothing."

Standing stiffly, Blaise turned and walked from the infirmary, his silent exit marked only by the sound of the doors as they slammed closed behind him.

And on his small bed, Draco Malfoy laid down mechanically, pulling the stiff sheets over his body, clutching them tightly, all the while wishing that the warmth he had once felt so freely would return.