Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. My characters, and my plot, and mine.
Chapter Ten –– Reducto
Draco stood in the Foyer of Malfoy manner, impatiently tapping his polished shoe on the equally polished marble flagstones. He checked his watch. There were only five minutes left until ten, until his godfather was meant to arrive.
He still could not believe it, really. To him, the thought of Potter agreeing to speak to them was even more preposterous than asking him in the first place!
He checked again: three minutes. He began to pace back and forth across the room. Severus was due to arrive at any moment with the letter.
Draco could remember every word of it from when his godfather had shoved it towards his face the night before after bursting in like a mad man.
Mr. Snape,
After much consideration, I have decided to grant you your request. Though I do not guarantee you aid by any means, for I know neither the specifics of your problem nor the intent behind your actions, I do agree to listen to what you have to say.
If you and Draco, for I believe his is the most pressing case, would gather together tomorrow morning at ten o'clock precisely, and treat this letter as though it were a portkey, you will find your way to me.
Sincerely,
Lord Harry Potter Black
Head of the Department of Safety and Freedom Enforcement
Draco heard the door open. He glanced at his watch before turning to see his godfather enter.
"Godfather," Draco greeted him.
"Draco," Snape returned. "Are you ready?"
"Yes, quite," he replied. "You it have?"
Snape removed the letter from where he had tucked it inside his robes and waved it for his godson to see.
"It's right here."
"Excellent."
Draco looked at his watch one last time.
"Hurry, godfather, we have less than a minute left."
The two crowded together, each with a hand on the parchment. After a few seconds, the world around them began to spin, and they were in Malfoy Manner no more.
When the spinning stopped, and they opened their eyes, they found themselves in a dark stone room, unlit but for a small window high up in one wall.
A door opened and a man walked in.
"My name is Thorne," he said.
Both Draco and his godfather thought the man's accent peculiar, foreign, yet unplaceable.
"My Lord is expecting you. If you would follow me."
Thorne turned began to leave without waiting for a reply.
Snape nudged Draco with his elbow and the two hurried after him. They caught up with him a short distance down a hall from the room in which they had arrived, before following him through a series of turns and climbs until they arrived at a set of tall, ornately carved wooden doors.
Thorne motioned to the pair to stay before cracking the door and poking his head inside. After a brief second he extended his arm out behind him and signaled them forward. Thorne opened the door.
"Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy, My Lord."
The room into which they entered was the most splendid room that either of them had ever seen –– even more so than Malfoy Manner. Between the crystal chandeliers, the light trickling through the windows, the velvet, the marble, it was exquisite.
Where are we, Draco thought to himself. Just then, he noticed that between each window stood a figure covered head to toe in black: black boots, black pants, a black shirt, a black hood, even black wands. At first Draco had thought that the figures were not real; he thought them statues, decorations. But as he continued to stare, he saw that they were people, guards of some sort. But a strange magic cloaked them, for where their faces should have been, underneath their hoods, was instead a seemingly eternal expanse of shadow, as though one was looking through a telescope into a starless night.
"Come, sit," they heard a voice say from the end of the hall.
Draco spied a pair of chairs toward the end of the hall, and tapped his godfather on the arm as he began to make his way towards them. It was only after he sat down that he saw Harry.
At first, he did not recognize him. He looked different; taller perhaps, or older. But what ever it was, it was quite clear to Draco at that moment that the Harry Potter sitting above him was one that Draco had never seen before.
Harry spoke again.
"You've noticed my shadows, then," Harry said, motioning towards the walls. "Members of the Department."
"Mr. Potter," Snape said, startling his godson who had forgotten his company in his amazement, "Could you tell me where we are? Certainly not the Ministry."
"Indeed not, Severus. I may call you Severus, right?"
Snape was about to correct Harry, before realizing that Harry would address him however he wanted.
"But to answer your question, Severus," continued Harry, "We are in the fortress known as The Tower."
It took a moment for the words' significance to dawn upon him. The Tower… what is that? The only Tower I know of is the stuff of legends. The legends of the Ma-… What did Cyrus say? That he expected to be summoned… But, No. It can't be.
Snape looked from side to side. But what else could it be? Th- The shadows… the accent… the way Potter looks.
"Perhaps you've heard of it, Severus?" Harry drew out the professors name, taking satisfaction in addressing him as such.
"Th- The Malkin Tower?"
"Some who remember might refer to it as such."
He began to shake.
"Could… Draco and I withdraw to the other room for a moment. To discuss some things?"
Harry laughed.
"Yes, of course. Take your time."
Draco felt his godfather grab his sleeve and give it a firm tug, pulling him from his seat. He followed closely as his godfather scampered towards the door, unaware of what had caused his sudden change of mood.
The two quickly reached the antechamber and closed the door behind them. The professor motioned to a corner and the two made their way over. Snape looked leftwards and rightwards before breaking out into a low, harsh whisper.
"Draco! Does the name mean nothing to you?"
He was met with a blank stare. Obviously, it did not.
"Did Lucius never tell of the legends. of the Malkins?"
"Of course he told me! But I fail to see how they're relevant now––"
"This is the tower!"
"Oh, come now, godfather. Surely you don't believe––"
"Did you not see Potter. He sat upon the seven steps!"
"So what?"
"You know the legends, Draco. You know what they say: that in the time of the Malkins, the regent of the Lord Sa would sit atop of the seventh step of seven bone white steps, and from their he ruled the world."
"So they copied it… You can't believe that Potter is the regent!"
Snape leaned in even closer, his voice now barely audible.
"Draco, yesterday Cyrus confided in me that Ragnok had written to him and told him to expect to be summoned, along with the rest of the Assembly. There is only one person who could do such a thing, and only one way that Ragnok would know. Draco, didn't you see how Potter signed his name? Potter Black. He was at the bank, Draco."
Draco's face blanched suddenly.
"But if what you are saying is true…"
"He even looks like one, Draco. He looks just as the stories say."
"It's just… alright. I have an idea. Let's find a window and see if we can see other walls. If what you say is true, than there should be seven concentric walls surrounding us. That is what the legends say."
Snape nodded in consent and looked around, spying a window high up in the wall opposite them. He motioned toward it and quickly crossed the room.
"It's too high," Draco complained. Indeed, the window was was about five feet above his head.
"Stand on my shoulders, Draco."
Draco nodded his consent, and soon was able to see from the window.
"Well, Draco, what do you see?"
Draco lowered himself to the ground. His face was paler now than before.
"Seven. Seven walls."
"It's as I both hoped and feared then, Draco."
Snape turned to face the door and motioned to his godson to follow him before turning back once more.
"Now remember well, Draco." He whispered. "This is not the Potter we once knew. You and I are both members of the Families, and you want to regain your family's seat. From now on everything is My Lord. Do you understand. Your life or more could depend on it."
Draco swallowed and nodded, and they both reentered the room, stopping before the chairs. Neither dared to sit Looking up, they saw that Harry still wore the same sly grin that he had done when they first arrived.
"Well," Harry asked, "Is everything alright then, Severus."
"Yes, thank you, My Lord."
"Ha!," Harry shouted. "So you've figured it out then. I can't say I'm impressed, though. I thought you would have realized sooner." Harry's expression suddenly changed from jovial to frightening. "What is it that you want, Severus?"
"Two things, My Lord."
"Why don't you start with the first," said Harry dryly.
"Well, soon Draco shall be forced into the Dark Lord's ––"
"I know that, Severus. I did read your letter. What do you want?"
"Well, I was hoping, My Lord ––"
"Oh, sit down, Severus."
Snape stood, frozen in place.
"Sit!"
Snape fell into his chair.
"We'll return to you in a moment, Severus. Now, you, Draco. You tell me. What do you want."
Draco's body trembled as he stood before Harry. This was certainly not what he had expected.
"My Lord," he answered shakily, "I want to avoid serving the Dark Lord."
"Very well, go. Run away. He won't spend the time to search for you."
"No, My Lord, you don't understand. He said that if I don't take the mark and kill Dumbledore by year's end, he'll kill my mother!"
Harry's features softened in an inhuman way.
"Look at me, Draco."
As though he were hypnotized by the very sound of Harry's voice, Draco slowly turned his face upwards to look at Harry upon his throne."
From his throne, Harry peered into Draco's eyes. He could read his thoughts, see inside him, just as Lazhan had told him. So he want's to regain his seat on the assembly. Interesting… And he knows what that would entail, but he doesn't seem to mind. This is good…
"You wish to regain your family's seat on the assembly, Draco."
Draco's face burst into an expression of shock. How in the world did he know that, he thought.
"Yes, My Lord."
"You are aware of what must happen prior to your reclaiming it?"
"Yes, My Lord."
"And you are prepared to do it yourself if necessary?"
Draco swallowed hard. His nervousness was easy to see.
"Yes, My Lord."
Harry leaned back in his throne and steepled his hands before him.
"The assembly serves me, Draco. In fact, they will shortly be reminded of that."
Draco just nodded.
"I don't give out favors to strangers, Draco."
Draco was confused, unsure of towards what he was hinting.
"But for those who grant me their favor, I am certainly willing to do so in return. So tell me, Draco. Are you willing to pay the price. After all, you will need to shortly anyhow if your seat is something you desire, but I would much rather you do it from favor than from fear. I grant no favors to the fearful, Draco; I fear that they just don't know what to do with them."
"I am prepared to serve you, My Lord. Willingly. Out of favor."
"Then come, Draco. Kneel before me."
Draco moved forward and stopped before the first step.
Harry chuckled.
"No, Draco, here," he said, pointing toward the sixth step several feet in front of him.
Draco soon climbed them and knelt once more.
"Hold out your arm, Draco."
Snape looked on from his chair, scared and proud of his godson simultaneously. He watched as Harry stretched out his hand and press his finger firmly onto Draco's left forearm before retracting it. Draco was still for a moment, his eyes fixed rigidly upon the space which Harry's finger had just vacated, before his arm erupted in a copper glow and Draco began to scream.
He lay on the step panting for several seconds before he righted himself back into kneeling position. He looked at the eye now branded onto his skin.
"Thank you, My Lord."
"Yes. Now return to your seat, Draco. Wait just a while longer. We will fix your problem soon enough. Thorne," Harry shouted.
Draco could see the man in question cross the room as he made his way down the steps and back to his seat.
"My Lord?" Thorne said.
"Thorne, I would like you to call upon our goblin friend. Ask him to meet us here." Thorne nodded.
"And make sure he brings what I told him," Harry added quickly, "And make sure you tell Howle to send us who we need from Azkaban. The first one is to be sent here, and the other two to be taken to ministry."
"As we discussed, My Lord."
"Indeed, Thorne."
Thorne nodded again before saluting and walking away.
"And now for you, Severus," Harry said, turning to face him.
Snape made to say something, but was cut off before he had the chance to speak.
"Before you say anything, Severus, allow me to be very plain with you. By the end of October, I expect Voldemort to be driven from the country, if not entirely defeated, and Albus Dumbledore to be crushed. All that will remain is me, my people, and those who chose to stand with us."
"May I ask a question, My Lord?"
"You may," Harry replied.
"Why October, My Lord."
"Because, Severus, on Halloween night, those who have departed from this world are closest to it."
"Thank you, My Lord." Snape was shivering now beneath his robes. He plans to rejoin the worlds then, Snape thought. How else would he be so sure of his victory. It was at that moment that Snape understood Harry's true power.
"In light of what I've just said, Severus, I offer you the same choice. Give me your favor, do as I command, and you shall be free from both Dumbledore and Voldemort come November."
Snape took no time at all to mull it over, answering immediately.
"I accept, My Lord."
Harry nodded and motioned for Snape to approach him. Snape underwent the same procedure as his godson, and soon fixed his eyes upon forearm; his right forearm, that is. Harry had said that though he would remove the dark mark from his left in time, in was still useful.
He turned his head backwards upon hearing the door open. He saw Thorne poke his head in.
"They're here, My Lord."
Harry sat forward in his throne.
"Excellent."
~/\\/~
The Island of Azkaban lay several hundred miles northwards of Scotland, isolated from the mainland by the cold, choppy waves that are characteristic of that region. The island was not large; the majority of its surface filled by several large structures which together formed the nigh-impregnable fortress of Azkaban, the wizarding prison. And in that prison, on a warn out, flimsy mattress, in the cell occupying the northwest corner of the fifth story, sat Lucius Malfoy, staring out towards the stormy waters.
Azkaban had been hard for him. Of that, there was no doubt. His once pristine blond hair now hung in a dirty mat of tangles and knots. His once manicured nails had turned to cracked stubs. And his elegant manner, which often bordered on snobbishness, was no where to be found.
In its place was a near broken man who had, like so many others before him, succumbed to the terrors of Azkaban. Though unlike most, it was neither the loneliness nor the dementors that had done it for him, but rather the lack of information. For since the day that Lucius was locked in that cell, he knew nothing of the world but the thirty or so square feet that surrounded him.
It had been particularly bad since yesterday. It had started yesterday afternoon, for the sun was clearly visible to Lucius from his cell's window. He heard shouting and screaming, as though there was a fight carrying on below. At first, it had raised his hopes. Perhaps his lord had come for him, he thought. But as the hours wore on, and the sounds had died away, he simultaneously felt more hopeless, and more isolated, that he ever had before.
The events that followed further piqued his interest. As the sky outside his window darkened, Lucius expected one of the few human guards who actually worked inside the prison (unlike the aurors who generally confined themselves to their base –– a separate building) to push a tray through a small slit in the door, the contents of which he was expected to eat for supper. What came to pass, however, was quite different.
Instead of hearing the cool whine of the tray sliding across the metal door, he was startled by hearing the screech of the cell itself being opened. Two figures stood there, dressed in black from head to toe. They wore bone white masks over their faces, on which someone had painted the features of a face that was undoubtedly not their own, allowing their identity to be discerned by one who knew the mask's owner, and obscured by those who were not.
Lucius fell to the floor in fear before crawling his way into a corner. The figures terrified him: they looked as though they had emerged from a carnival set in the depths of hell itself. He remained in the corner, cowering.
One of the figures remained in the doorway, blocking it, while the second approached Lucius. He drew a vile from his pocket, filled with some sort of purple potion.
"Drink," he said.
The figure's mouth moved as if it were truly his face. Lucius did not dare move.
The figure left the vile on the floor of the cell, and turned around. In another moment the door was closed, and the only proof of the figure's visit was the purple potion on the floor.
Lucius stayed in that corner until he fell asleep, and indeed did not move from it after he woke. And so, Howle, accompanied by two of his five captains, Alice and Caractacus, found Lucius in the same corner when they entered the cell.
Howle raised his wand.
"Stupefy." Lucius slumped over upon his side, clearly unconscious.
Howle turned back to face the two others.
"Alice, Caractacus," he said, "get the other two and bring them to the ministry. Just as the orders were. I will take this one."
The two masked figures saluted before exiting the cell.
Howle crossed the cell, grabbed Lucius' arm, and and in a flash the two were gone.
When Lucius came to, he found himself in the very antechamber in which Draco and Snape had been just minutes before. He felt a wand pressed into his side and a hand grasping his arm firmly. He tried to speak. He could not, the effects of a spell, he presumed.
He only had a moment to look around, in which he saw a goblin carrying a stack of parchments and another figure in black, though unmasked, before he felt his captor push him through the wooden doors and into the hall.
He was brought to the end of the hall, at which point he was forced to his knees. He tried to stand, but was immobilized by his captor's spell. Looking around, he suddenly recognized some of the figures surrounding him: Draco, his son, sat in a chair several yards before him, Severus Snape standing to his immediate right.
"Draco," he tried to say, but could not. He was bound, helpless, and entirely at the mercy of his captors.
~/\\/~
Draco turned when he heard Thorne open the door. He did not identify his father when he first passed the doors, only realizing it was him when he was able to look closer as his father was forced nearer.
"Leave him there, Howle," he heard Harry say.
Turning his sight back towards Harry, he saw his new lord's form compress into a black shadow before he reappeared suddenly, standing not far from Draco, with only a trail of black smoke to account for his movement. He saw Potter flick his wand, and almost instantaneously a table appeared, upon which stood two glass vases.
"Come here, Draco," he heard Harry say.
He quickly joined his master.
"Now, Draco, I believe that you are familiar with the Reductor curse."
"Yes," Draco replied.
"Watch closely, Draco."
Draco watched as Harry steadied his outstretch wand before clearly intoning, "Reducto."
The left vase suddenly shattered as the blue light impacted it.
"Now, you try, Draco."
Draco then held his wand before him, as Harry had shown him, and cast the curse. The effects were the same, the vase now shattered into a million pieces.
"Well done, Draco," Harry said. "Now, follow me."
Harry led Draco to stand in front of his kneeling father.
"I want you to watch this, Draco, so you don't doubt who I am."
Harry moved closer to Lucius and stretch out his arm.
Lucius began to glow without warning, a pulsing spectrum of light around his body. Draco heard Harry inhale, and suddenly the light streamed toward him in a constant flow, and though he were sucking it away. Within seconds the light was gone.
"Do you see, Draco," Harry said, "I have taken his magic from him, and could have just as easily taken his life as well. Learn from this, Draco. Do not cross me."
Draco looked concurrently frightened and awed.
"Now, Draco, I want you to raise you wand."
Draco did just that. Harry grabbed his hand, and shifted his aim so that it pointed directly at his father.
"Just as with the vase, Draco. Though not the face, please. I want him visible in case we need photographs."
"M- M- My Lord…"
"Do it, Draco. Do not disappoint me."
Draco tried to still his shaking hand but failed, only managing to steady his aim after several deep breaths.
Finally, after several seconds, Draco finally intoned, "Reducto."
The effect was instantaneous. Lucius was blasted from his kneeling position and lay dead on the floor, a hole now occupying the upper left side of his chest where the spell had connected with his body.
Harry heard Draco stifle his sniffles beside him.
"Calm yourself, Draco," Harry commanded. "There is yet work to be done."
"Y- Yes, My Lord."
"Come with me, Draco."
Harry led him across the room, to where Ragnok had perched himself on one of the velvet settees. Harry flicked his wand and a small table appeared next to them, upon which Ragnok lay the parchments he had been holding.
The goblin slid one towards Draco.
"If you would sign here, Mr. Malfoy, and you will claim your inheritance. Including your title," he said, holding out a quill.
Draco took the quill and signed his name.
"Very well, Lord Malfoy. You are now the lord of your house, and officially an adult." Ragnok slid the rest of the parchments across the table to Draco who had yet to say a word. "Here is the contents of your estate. Please review it at your leisure, and come to the bank if you have any questions."
The goblin hopped of the couch and faced Harry.
"Well, My Lord, I believe that that was all I was needed for."
"Almost, Ragnok. I would be most obliged if you would go to Narcissa and explain the situation to her. Let's say ten minutes you. Have Howle escort you out."
Harry grabbed Draco's arm and led him back toward the throne where Snape still sat, his concern for his godson plain upon his face.
"Now, Draco, listen to me. This is of the utmost importance."
Draco at Harry.
"Yes, My Lord. I am listening."
"Very good. You will now seal away your property, so that Voldemort will be cast from your manor, and may never return again."
Harry saw Draco nod and perk up a bit, eager to banish the Dark Lord from his life.
"Now, concentrate on your manor, and repeat after me Draco. I, Lord Draco Malfoy, head of the Malfoy family, hereby reclaim what is mine, and banish all those that would do me wrong. So mote it be."
A bright white light engulfed the room as Draco finished the last word. He stumbled back several steps before falling into the empty chair.
"Very well, it is done, now. Severus, look after him, he might need help. The spell is draining, and I'm sure his other actions have left their tole."
"Are you leaving, My Lord?" Snape asked, startled.
"Yes," Harry replied, "But not for long. Remain here. If you need anything, ask the shadows."
Harry promptly turned on his heal, and walked out of the room.
~/\\/~
Kingsley had been sitting at his desk in the DMLE when Rufus had entered and announced that everyone present needed to make their way to the Atrium immediately. Though he was confused, he was not about to disobey an order, and soon found himself in the Atrium, surrounded by hundreds of witches and wizards. The entire Ministry must be coming in here, thought Kingsley, as he spied the columns of wizards and witches still streaming into the large hall through its many doors.
From where he stood he had clear view of a large platform occupying the front of the room. It was not a permanent fixture in the room –– quite the opposite; it appeared to have been built for some sort of special demonstration, but of what kind, Kingsley could not say.
Suddenly, he saw several figures appear on the stage. A row of black clad masked figures now lined the back. Two more black clad people stood before them, wands outstretched. One person knelt in front of each, the wands pointing towards their heads.
"Hello everyone," Kingsley heard a voice say. It was Harry! Where did he come from? Kingsley thought.
"I apologize for this surprise –– both for its suddenness and its content –– but it must be done."
Harry clutched a scroll in his hand.
"These two people, these two convicts, are both found to have violated Order No. 1 of the Dep. of S.A.F.E. Now, while we would be glad to afford mercy when faced with repentance, it is unfortunate that we must remain unwavering in the face of obstinacy."
Harry unfurled the scroll.
"Walden Macnair and Filbert Henney," Harry began, "You have been tried and found guilty of the highest treason, having aligned yourself and your loyalties with two different vigilante groups, and failing to recant your beliefs upon exposure."
Kingsley could not believe it. He had just seen Filbert at the order meeting some nights ago
"Indeed, though you betrayed the trust of your Ministry and people by displacing your loyalties during your employment to it, and though you have thus far failed to repent, I offer you one final chance: recant."
The two kneeling figures said nothing.
"Very well," Harry continued. "I, Lord Harry James Potter Black, do hereby sentence you both to death for your crimes, may god have mercy on your souls."
Harry rolled the scroll back up, and drew himself to his full hight, arms crossed behind his back. Slowly he raised one arm in front of him.
"On my count, gentlemen."
Harry's arm fell to his side.
Without warning, the two black clad figures uttered one word in unison: "Reducto!"
AN: Please review; they are welcome. Thank you to all who have reviewed and continue to do so.