:Malfoy Manor in Dublin:

Harry lay on the bed, Indigo curled on his chest almost sort of purring. He stared at the ceiling, wondering why Pansy had had such a reaction to his news about Sorting. Did she think he was an accessory to the Dark Lord? That he was truly evil, the real Harry Potter was evil?

He let out an annoyed breath as he heard the stair case slide upwards. Lucius stepped out sans Camille, he stalked to the door and walked out. Harry awoke Indigo.

"Master Lucius come through again?" She asked, raising her head to stare at the still open silver doors.

"Yes." Harry's dislike of the Malfoy patriarch had been growing since he had spoken to Mrs. Malfoy like that. "I remember when I loved you." Harry sneered at the words. Lucius had known what they would do it his wife. She wondered how long it had been since he'd felt anything for her. Had he loved her even when their son was born?

"Bit angry with him?" the snake asked.

"More than usual, he," Harry glowered to decide how to word his detest, "he needs to be reminded who he's been hurting all this time. How much harm has he done her beyond just these past few weeks? How much has he ignored her?"

Indigo thought for a moment and then looked at Harry, "Master Lucius lives in a marble tower past the ballroom and then some further, perhaps if you get in you may find some clues?"

"Show me where it is?" He left the wing, not bringing his cloak, and followed the serpent's directions to a large marble door.

Harry knew there was magic protecting it but nothing to preventative. With a few charms (thankfully the Malfoy Manor had ancient spells protecting anyone who did magic within from being seen by the Ministry) the door slid open easily. Inside was a small sitting room with a large window facing the mountain range behind the house. Harry found his way easily enough into the study and he began looking through the desk drawers.

There were ledgers for monetary transactions, letters, Prophet clippings, notes from Ministry meetings, an appointment book, and little else of interest. That is, until he reached a thin drawer between one of files and one of quills and parchment. Drawing it open he saw the white Death Eater's mask sitting on the blank wooden drawer bottom. Nothing special about it. Harry reached out and picked it up, shocked, and raised it to look more closely. The white porcelain surface was faded a little, more ecru now than ivory. The lips were painted black and closed tight but smiling a little in an almost doll-like way. The eyes were almond shaped and curved up some at the outside tip. A chip, small but present, sat below the right eye near the edge. Harry traced his fingers over the smooth and slightly worn forehead, magic bristling with his touch.

A red light ringed the eyes and before he could do anything Harry felt a tug behind his navel and the world spun away from him. Harry instinctively covered his face with the mask and found himself in a crowd of men in all black with white masks on. The lightning shape scar on his forehead seared but the Gryffindor didn't let it show as he stood in false calm and confidence in the crowd. No one seemed to take a second glance at him. They were occupied by starring around at each other, whispering worriedly about the unusual form of summons.

Harry heard two men near him speaking.

"Looks like only a fifth the usual number are here," said the first, a very tall man.

"Aye, only us with our masks always in our possession were called, perhaps the most faithful are whom he was searching for?" offered the second, an older, squat Scottish sounding man.

"Perhaps, but…is Snape here?"

The Scotsman looked around shortly, searching out the Potions Master, "I can't really tell, look, Julian is though, expectable," he motioned to the youth with distaste. The boy was standing on the raised platform, his golden eyes washing over the crowd slowly.

"Julian doesn't leave the Dark Lord's side, you know that," the first said back, sounding either disgusted or annoyed by it.

Voldemort walked out from a blackened door into the huge, dark stone hall, his black robes hanging around his skeletal form. "My most…dear followers, I've called you select few here," he seated himself in an almost casual manner, "for an important task."

Julian slid closer to the Dark Lord, almost in anticipation of the words to come.

"Severus," he motioned him forward and the dark man stepped up. "Begin planning the routes for invasion." This was said in sort of a hushed voice, "You will take control of the hostages and send them to the Ministry headquarters, distract them while the real attacks occur. I've decided that we should be ready by winter, the seventh snow," he said with darkness in his snake like voice. Harry realized the significance of seven. That was normally about Christmas, perhaps earlier. That was so little time.

"I think there's a traitor in our midst as well," Voldemort said then and smirked from beneath his hood. Harry saw the men flinch towards their Dark Marks which meant he was calling the entire gathering. Most men pulled up their hoods and those Apperating in didn't seem worried about having or not having their masks present, just the hoods up was fine it seemed for this meeting. Harry sank deeper into the crowd, watching Julian, watching Voldemort, watching the Death Eaters around him, trying very hard to stay calm and not succumb to the terror building within his chest.

Voldemort stood and stepped out onto his platform, raised well above the assembly of dark cloaked men. He reached out a hand, fingers bent around his wand which was held out to find this one person. He started and moved over the crowd, magic slipping out to find the person, behind their mask or in a shadow. Harry sensed it touch him but his mental shield was so well in place it went passed without trouble.

The Dark Lord found who he wanted and a strong whip of magic reached him, paralyzing them to the spot. It was the old Scotsman who'd expressed his dislike for Julian. A wide circle expanded out from around him, the tall man who'd spoken with him looked shocked and fairly betrayed, eyes wide beneath the stark mask as he backed away.

Harry slipped farther into a corner, less worried with what was happening in the centre of the circle than with how he was going to get out of the massive ballroom. He could apperate with Snape, if only he could be found. Harry slipped passed some large men and saw a dark haired figure standing with a large scroll of white parchment under his arm, he'd just appeared from a side room where he must have been drawing out plans. Harry walked over and, under the cover of a scream from the Scotsman, spoke to him.

"Severus?" he asked in a rough whisper.

Snape turned to him, his brow creasing and that look of disgust on his features, the one he gave everyone. "Can I help you?" he examined the mask and upon close inspection he saw the chip by the eye and knew it was Lucius, "Lucius, what is it?"

"It isn't Lucius," Harry said as a new curse was sent flying.

Snape drew back from him a little and Harry, eyes fixed on the pre-occupied Dark Lord and his concubine, slipped the mask off a little to show his scar and black hair. Snape's eyes shot open. Harry put the mask back into place and turned slightly away from the crowd. "I know! Help me?"

Snape sighed in something like desperation and nodded, "of course." He watched the Dark Lord for a moment and Julian at his side. "We'll wait until everyone is dismissed, though it could be quite a while." He cast his eyes to the old man.

"What if you just ask to…you know…leave?" Harry said, panicking though it didn't serve him.

Snape looked at him seriously, "calm down…Lucius, we can't panic right now. Stay calm and enjoy the show," Snape turned to where the Scotsman was writhing on the ground in pain.

"Enough, kill him and deliver him to the ministry," Voldemort waved his hand, having gotten bored by them all.

"Yes My lord," they nodded, Snape grabbed Harry and they apperated away with the group of others. Harry had the sensation of being crushed, but only for a second before they appeared in the foyer of the Snape mansion.

"Tell me how the hell you ended up at the meeting," Snape let go of Harry's arm and looked at him almost accusingly.

"I-" Harry stopped to collect his thoughts for a second, "I was in Lucius' tower at the Dublin manor, I found his mask and it portkey'd me to the meeting. I didn't mean to end up there but I did."

Snape frowned, "why were you searching through his desk?"

"I was mad at him for what he said to Narcissa the other day, I wanted to-to I don't know but I wanted to know how much he's hurt her, what he's done to her since they've been married. She's been so good to me that, I wanted to try and help her."

Snape looked at him sadly, "that's none of your concern Harry, 'Cissa can more than fend for herself."

Harry looked back at Snape, trying to read him as Narcissa had been trying to teach him to do, "Professor, magically I'm sure she could win, but don't you think all the verbal abuse he's been putting her through is starting to have an affect on her psyche?"

"I seriously doubt she's having mental troubles because of Lucius' petty insults, you've heard them fight I'm certain, she's yet to loose."

"Battles of wit, no matter if you win or loose, you still get hurt, I know that much," Harry responded, "things he's said have made impressions on her, you can't think she's ignored all his words over the years."

Snape turned away from him and ran a hand through his dark hair, "leave it alone Harry," he pointed vaguely towards a room where there was a fireplace, "floo back to the Dublin manor and we'll speak again tomorrow for your tutoring."

"Yes sir," Harry left, angry at the older man's ignorance. How could he not care about Narcissa? How could he not see it?

"Malfoy Manor in Dublin," Harry threw the powder in more harshly than needed and disappeared through the green fire.

"I was just looking for hi-" Pansy stopped when Harry came through the fire, "there you are-"

He walked right past her, brushing ash from his cloak and back to Draco's wing. Pansy looked to Blaise and they went after him, looking around for any sign of the patriarch as they sped through the halls.

"Potter, are you all right? Bit pissed it seems," Blaise said, jogging down the stairs after him.

"Go away," he snapped, opening the silver door to Draco's wing. Pansy flew past him and slammed the door shut.

"Woah there Boy-Wonder," she breathed hard, "Camille's in there saying good-bye to Lucius, you don't want to be in there right now."

Harry glared, his hatred of Lucius grew, he had the nerve to act like that woman was his wife more than Narcissa. I'll make sure you rot in Azkaban, Lucius, rot like the scum you are.

:Fatain Rehabilitation Centre, Sweden:

"Get the bloody hell off me," Draco pulled his arm from the grip of a large half-troll guard.

"Mr. Malfoy, you must calm down, we're here to help you recover from your addictions to magical cocaine and alcohol, you have to let us help you," a nurse attempted to take hold of his hand.

"Stay away from me," he snarled, "I'm going home," he strode away from her, Theodore jumped up and followed him, wide eyed to the guarded flooing room.

"You're not allowed to leave," the woman yelled, running after them and signaling the guard. They drew their wands and made to stun the two.

Draco rushed the guard and took his wand, he whirled around, stunned the woman and broke open the door to the room. Theodore went after him, to the large fireplace.

"Where will we go?" Theo asked, looked to where a commotion was growing outside. More guards and medi-wizards were probably coming.

"Wiltshire Manor, go," he handed Theo some powder and stood ready to attack anyone who came through the open door.

Theo disappeared through green flames and Draco stunned another few wizards before escaping himself, dropping the wand as he went. "Hurry, to the tower," Draco took him from the parlor where they'd appeared. Draco knew they'd follow them, or try to, and so he took Theo to the part of the Manor most heavily guarded, where only those of Malfoy blood could enter.

"Woah," Theo stopped him, "what the hell are we doing?"

"Escaping psycho rehab workers," Draco said, looking at his friend oddly.

"No, I mean, we'll just get sent back next time we screw up," Theo stopped Draco before he could interrupt, "and we will screw up again, we always do. Drake, think of what this is doing to your mum, to my mum. I-I think that if we're not going to go to a rehab centre to quit, we still ought to. You know, so we wont die too young or anything."

Draco leaned his shoulder against the wall and though it over, "I suppose giving up MC will be the best thing to do, and cutting back on drinking and perhaps on smoking," he admitted. "It won't be easy though," he looked at the floor, "we'll need Pans and Blaise to help us."

"They will, they are our best friends you know," Theo smiled, "we should tell our parents."

"Yes," Draco conceded, grudgingly.

The reason he even used drugs or got drunk was to get away from his father's hatred for his mother, to leave their fighting and trivial anger behind. To forget he was the Malfoy heir. To forget he was alone in his position. To forget he was all alone.

Sorry x a billion million for the huge delay in this chapter. School and homework and little inspiration made Bernard a lazy rabbit. Please forgive ((much bowing and groveling)).

You're all incredible and I love you and will update again. The next chapter will hopefully have the first meeting of our heroes, and perhaps the opening feast.

Love-Firestorm00X