Harry Potter and the Awakening Power

by darkpheonix31

Canon to OOTP- Yr 6 AU. Harry struggles to take up the role that he needs to play in the escalating war. Will the Order continue to see him a child they need to protect or the leader that they need him to be? When circumstances force Harry to spend part of the summer with with his two least favorite people, it sets of a spiral of events and nothing is the same. HARRY mentors SNAPE

10. Green-Eyed Devil

Chapter 10: Green-Eyed Devil

Draco

"Sit down and don't move until I come back," Severus snarled roughly as he finally released the hold that he had had on Potter's upper arm and practically flung him onto the sofa. Potter, for his part, said nothing, his balance unstable as he fell onto his side from the momentum, but his all too familiar glare was in place as stared at the professor's retreating back.

He sat up slowly, his movements less smooth than usual and Draco smirked as he thought about the punishment that Potter was in for. Drunk. Fighting. With muggles and wizards alike for that matter. It had been a decidedly interesting night and Draco, in spite of his delight at his anticipation of seeing Potter thoroughly punished, found himself surprised that events had played out the way that they had. He had antagonized Potter enough over the years to know that it took quite a lot for the Gryffindor to come to actual blows with someone. Seeing the rage behind those vivid green eyes as he had laid out his first punch, Draco had been simultaneously entertained and intrigued by the sight.

"You've done it now Potter," Draco couldn't resist saying.

"Shut it Malfoy," Potter grunted, his lip cracking and fresh blood spilling. Potter winced as he brought a hand up to stop the blood from sliding onto Snape's upholstery but made no other sign of pain.

"Too bad the Daily Prophet can't see you now. Mad Potter strikes again!" Draco smirked, truly delighted with the sight of a miserable and soon-to-be thoroughly thrashed Harry Potter.

Potter had ruined his life. His father was imprisoned because of him. His mother... The family name had been dragged through the mud for weeks because of Potter and Draco had sworn his revenge. He knew that his real vengeance would be satisfied as long as he waited a bit longer. Snape's plan was good. Very good. Potter would never see it coming and not only would the Malfoys finally have their revenge but he personally would be able to curry instant favor with the Dark Lord. He had wanted to take the Mark at the beginning of summer but the great Lord had insisted that Draco prove himself first. And prove himself he would. He and Severus would bring the Dark Lord his enemy on a silver platter and then the future that Draco had envisioned for himself would finally come to pass.

"Of all the imbecilic things to do!" Severus roared from the adjoining room as he rummaged through cupboards, banging doors and apparently breaking glass. "One would think that given the last time you started swinging your fists and got yourself banned from Quidditch for a lifetime you would have at least learned a modicum of self-control, but it appears that you make Crabbe and Goyle look like Alchemy scholars!"

Draco's grin widened in the memory of Potter and the Weasley twin being hauled off of the field and punished for the fight. He had not expected that even the vindictive Umbridge would think to give such a fitting punishment for muggle fighting but he had been delighted when he had found out that he had come out on top of the confrontation. Potter had been humiliated and forced away from his favorite sport, and Draco had gotten the grim satisfaction of knowing that he had been at least partially the cause.

He remembered being rather shocked and even a little afraid of the strength with which the two boys had attacked him. He had never been in a muggle fight before and the only other time he had ever been struck with an actual fist had been in Third Year by Granger. The hit at the time had taken him by surprise but had not been particularly strong. He remembered the nearly hysterical force that Potter had struck him with. George Weasley had been bigger and physically stronger, his arm used to the weight of swinging the Beater's bat, but it had been Potter that had known how to fight dirty and hit where it hurt. Draco had barely made it the hospital wing in a conscious state (though he honestly wished at that point that he hadn't been) and he knew that if had not been for magical healing he would have been sore for days. It almost made him feel sorry for the muggle boys that Potter had ravaged tonight. Almost- they were muggles after all.

"Potter never could control that vicious temper of his," Draco sang out tauntingly. "No wonder everyone always thinks you're mad."

"They got exactly what they deserved," Potter stated with brutal finality. There was a coldness to his voice that gave Draco an involuntary shiver down his spine. There was power in those words and the memory of Potter seizing up in Sylvia Littlefold's shop shot through his mind, his own powerful magic turning on him in a way that Draco would never experience, not even when he was of age and fully qualified. "And if you think for one second Malfoy that I regret hitting you for insulting my mother, you've got another thing coming. My mother died facing Voldemort, she was more brave than someone like you could ever be, if you insult her again I'll do more than just punch you a few times."

Draco suspected that the liquor had loosened his tongue a bit. Though defiant to a point of idiocy, Potter usually demonstrated at least a sane level of self-control around their professor.

Snape stalked back into the room, his eyes glowering a dark black. There was pure rage in his expression and for a moment his gaze landed on Draco and the Slytherin couldn't help but gulp back a feeling of fear. He knew that the rage was at Potter, he had done nothing other than taunt the memory of a dead mudblood, but for a second it felt as if the anger was directed at his very soul.

"Mix the herbs," he demanded, shoving some dried leaves at him with a mortar and pestle. Draco nearly jumped at the tone and was once more grateful that he could never inspire the amount of pure loathing that Potter did in their professor. Snape stalked out of the room again, probably to get the potions that would be needed after the poultice was applied to the bruising. Draco was actually rather surprised that Snape was bothering to heal Potter at all, he would have thought that the man would make him stew in his own injuries as punishment.

Draco had to admit that in spite of Potter's dangerous and reckless temper, he was surprised that the Golden Boy of Gryffindor had been involved in such a vicious brawl. He thought back to two days previously when it had appeared as though Potter had been made king of the village and wondered if the whole thing might have actually been unavoidable.

Draco tended to avoid spending any more time than absolutely necessary in the village as it was entirely too muggle for his tastes. The clothing, the need to use autos to go anywhere, the strange beeping boxes that the teens all wore on their belts and would glance at before asking to use a 'phone'- all of it only made him think about the fact that he was forced to stay here rather than his Manor. It reminded him that his father, a man that had always commanded wealth, power and respect from every important wizard in their world, was now stuck in a tiny, miserable cell surrounded by Dementors. The man that Draco had looked up to and admired his whole life, the man that he had depended on to be there for him before anyone else, was missing and all anyone could do was celebrate the Ministry and Harry-Bloody-Potter for catching him. His mother... Draco shuddered whenever he thought about his mother.

Narcissa Malfoy had always had a certain grace to her. She moved with elegance and had an aura of self-possession that Draco had always rather secretly admired. While it had been his father that had taught Draco how to manipulate the will of people and the laws of the government, it had been his mother that had tried to teach him how to do it with a smile on your face. How to get people to give you everything that you wanted without them even realizing that they had been manipulated. They were not lessons that he had excelled at. Draco had always enjoyed the feeling of people knowing that he was in charge. Both his mother and father had tried to instill the importance of working from the shadows. Being the power behind a Minister, but not holding the position yourself, gave you freedom. Freedom from responsibility to others, freedom from criticism in possible failures.

He had always considered his mother a strong and inflexible woman. A Pureblood that bent the world to her will, not the other way around and so Draco had been utterly unprepared for his mother to break under the pressure so quickly. Draco knew that there were some that believed that his parents had only gotten together because of the status it gave both of them, but he had always known that his parents had truly loved one another. Though neither one of them had ever been openly affectionate people; Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy cared for one another deeply. They had met in their teen years, Lucius a couple of years older and already starting to establish himself both with the Ministry and with the Dark Lord. The two of them had shared a like-mindedness about family and about the war. The Blacks had whole-heartedly approved of their daughter's match.

Andromeda had chosen to go off with a muggleborn instead of finding herself a proper wizard. She had been disowned as a Black and the family had rightfully shunned her. Draco had only heard his mother speak of her once, when they had first been discussing the Pureblood lines, and she had used her as an example of bringing shame on the family.

Bellatrix had done better with Roldophus Lestrange, but there had always been something too dark and unhinged about the man that had caused neither Cyngus or Druella Black to feel entirely comfortable around him. Lucius, in contrast, was a talented young man that had the temperament and wealth for a proper son-in-law and Narcissa was pleased to have found a man that could not only garner the hard sought after approval that she had longed for as the youngest, but also a man that fulfilled all of her own desires in a partner. They had enjoyed a marriage that suited the both of them immensely, built on a cornerstone of trust and loyalty in one another before all else and later to their son.

When Lucius had been arrested, Draco had known that Narcissa had been devastated, but she had seemingly managed to pull herself together and work on a strategy for how to save public face for herself and her son. While some might have taken it as disloyalty, Lucius would have known it was survival. That was the trait that the Malfoys valued above all else. The ability to first survive and then thrive in any situation. They had sided with the Dark Lord in the First War because they had known that the Ministry and Dumbledore's little pawns had no chance at defeating a wizard that was so powerful and so cunning. In the First War the Dark Lord had commanded hundreds of followers and sympathizers. He had further controlled thousands of Dark Creatures that had served him eagerly. Any intelligent wizard should have seen the writing on the wall from the start, the only way to win the war was to serve the Dark Lord. He was a man of vision but more importantly he was a man that would remember the purebloods that had been loyal from the beginning and be willing to reward them, and (perhaps more importantly) he would remember those that had attempted to rebel and would punish them.

When the Dark Lord had seemingly been defeated it had been all too easy to rely on the Malfoy wealth and influence to convince the Wizengamot that no respectable member of society would have degraded himself and his family's honor to commit such unspeakable acts. Lucius had pled the Imperious Curse and if possible the Malfoy's had only risen in status and power. Draco could remember more than one discussion around the family table in which his parents had impressed upon the importance of timing, patience and connections. Survive, then thrive- it was the Malfoy way.

And then the Dark Lord returned.

And what might have been a disaster had only seemed to add more opportunities. The Ministry had dug their heads into the sand while Dumbledore had only gathered together a weak grouping of ostracized wizards that had no influence or power. The Death Eaters had rejoiced in the fact that the fabled Order of the Phoenix had been reduced to a werewolf, a so-called convict that not only could not show his face in public but had provided an excellent scapegoat for any and all plans of the Dark Lord, and a collection of Weasleys and other low level employees that held no power in the Ministry. Potter had been thoroughly discredited in the press as a crackpot and more to that point, he was only a boy. Potter had never learned about the intricacies of their world, nor had he ever received proper instruction in politics or media affairs the way a true Pureblood with a proper family would have been taught from an early age. Dumbledore had dumped the boy with a bunch of ignorant muggles and left him unprepared to deal with price of fame once it had turned to infamy. If Draco didn't know better he would have sworn that Dumbledore was every much Potter's enemy as the Dark Lord was, setting him up for failure in a world that should have been his oyster.

Not that the Gryffindor would live long enough to worry much over his destroyed reputation. Potter had managed to get lucky a few times but in the end everyone knew that he was no match for the greatest wizard in the past century. The Dark Lord was going to destroy the Ministry and then Hogwarts, it was only a matter of time and Draco had yearned to be a part of it. To share in the victory not as a mere bystander but as a celebrated Death Eater that had been integral to the plans.

Narcissa had known all of this but she had still panicked when Draco had announced his plans of avenging his father's imprisonment and taking his place as a Death Eater. It had started out as the worst argument mother and son had ever had. The argument had shaken the windows and sent the remaining house-elf running for the kitchen. Draco had never before stood his ground so firmly- but neither had his mother. He had taken a stoic kind of pride in refusing to stay in the shadows and allow the 'adults' to handle things. With his father gone, he was the man of the house, the rightful Heir to the Malfoy name and he been adamant that he would be taking full control of his proper role.

At first when his mother had stopped arguing, Draco had just thought that he had worn her down. But then slowly he had seen that the strong, impervious woman that had raised him was suddenly vulnerable and confused. She would blink up at him in the morning, trying to focus on a point in time that suited the man that she was looking at. Many times she thought that he was a younger version of his father. Other times a younger version of himself. Draco had not known what to do, he had never seen someone that had not known how distinguish reality from their own muddled thoughts, but he had done what he had always done when confronted with unknown situations, rely on what he had been raised to know. Discretion. Survival. He had made sure that he had cancelled his mother's social engagements, pleading family business or travel. He had carefully guided her through Black's will reading so that no one had been able to see that she had been ill. He had been certain that if he was patient enough, if he gave her some time and allowed her to gather herself together, she would be fine.

But things had only deteriorated further. When idle confusion had finally dissolved into full scale panic attacks that led to her screaming curses and hexes at anyone in the room, he had known that this was not something he could fix himself. He had called Severus, a man that had never let his family down in the past, and the Head of Slytherin had moved quickly to not only get Narcissa the help that she needed but to do it as discreetly as possible. Moving her to a private clinic rather than St. Mungo's where the entire Wizarding World would laugh at the fall from grace the Malfoy's had been forced to endure.

"Drink this!" Snape snapped, earning another glare from Potter and snapping Draco back into the present.

"What is it?" Potter asked, always one to be difficult, he questioned everything that Snape did. While on a certain level Draco could see why the other boy would be constantly suspicious of a man that had never made a secret of the fact that he hated him, Draco could never understand why Potter had to be so dense about things. Purposely confrontational rather than using certain opportunities to curry favor. Snape was not going allow Potter to come to harm right under Dumbledore's nose and a true Slytherin could have used these weeks as a time to ingratiate themselves with an enemy. But Potter was unbendable. He would never give into someone that he had felt wronged him- even when it was in his best interest. It was the reason why the Inquisitorial Squad had gotten to him so easily- he would break any rule, or go against any authority if he believed that he was doing the 'right thing'. It must be a Potter family motto- No survival, just high morals.

"You hit your head, right now I wager the only thing that's prevented you from blacking out is the fact that you have enough alcohol in your system to topple a small horse! This will clear up the concussion that you've most likely saddled yourself with and do me the service of sobering you up!"

Potter obligingly drank the potion, grimacing at the taste. After a second he gave a hard swallow and let out a slow, deep breath. He looked nauseated and his pupils were largely dilated.

"The hangover is your reward for being a dunderheaded moron. I swear to Merlin Potter, I have never in my life met someone so obsessed with causing trouble at every turn. I grant you the simple curtesy of actually assuming you have the ability to walk around a seven square mile radius without someone holding your hand and this is how you repay me."

Potter had his head leaned back and he let out another slow breath. He seemed to be getting himself under control and after a moment he looked up, there was flash of defiance before a stranger more foreign look entered. Guilt. Draco had seen it before- he had shared classes with Potter for 5 years and had seen that look with other teachers, but never Snape.

"I'm sorry," Potter muttered, eyes averted. Severus raised an eyebrow, clearly as surprised as Draco that the Gryffindor would not only apologize for something, but to address it to someone that he obviously despised. Draco had certainly never heard the other boy apologize for anything in past.

Potter's jaw clenched and his right hand fisted together as if to force himself to keep speaking. "I- It was stupid, getting pissed I mean. I didn't really mean for it to happen..."

Draco actually believed that. The Gryffindor had come to the local pub with his 'fooseball' ball mates or whatever absurd sport the muggles around here all played and had gotten caught up in a tournament of darts. The winner was rewarded with a shot of whiskey from the losing opponent and Potter had run the room for close to two hours. Aside from the shots of liquor he had also never had an empty pint glass because he had never been without an offer from friends and women alike. It was clear that the Gryffindor Golden Boy was an inexperienced drinker and by the time one drink had become three, and three drinks had turned into about a dozen he had been blind drunk.

Despite the fact that Potter had only been known in the village for about two weeks, 'Jimmy Evans' had become almost inexplicably popular. He had seemingly made friends with everyone, teens and adults alike, and was apparently a frequent customer at multiple shops and restaurants. He was known for being polite and a patient listener to anyone that wanted to talk and a funny and interesting conversationalist for anyone that needed a distraction. Two roles that he had never before seemed to fill at Hogwarts, where he had largely remained secluded with his two sidekicks.

Draco had no earthly idea why Potter felt the need to spend his all of his time hanging around a bunch of muggles and hearing about their lives but he had learned long ago that the Boy-Who-Lived was nothing but a Blood Traitor. As much as Draco himself enjoyed being superior to the people around him he knew that he couldn't have stood to subject himself to such company for hours on end. Though the fact that the only beings that Potter communicated with at Prince Manor was a Parselmouth portrait and the House-elf, perhaps he was just lonely.

Of course to Potter it must have helped that the people practically idealized him, when Draco had gone to visit two of the few Purebloods in the muggle-infested town, all he had heard about was the spectacular skill the new boy possessed in the muggle sport. Potter's little orphan friends had apparently been talking him up all over Market Street. Draco had sneered as he was forced to endure the now familiar awe people used when speaking of Potter's athletic skill. It had been the same since their First Year at Hogwarts and Draco had somehow been tricked into showcasing the Gryffindor's flying skill. In a move that would have gotten any other student immediately expelled, Potter had landed himself a coveted spot on the Quidditch Team. A spot that as much as it pained him to admit even to himself, Draco knew Potter filled with finesse. Potter had been the best Quidditch player in the school for the past 5 years running and the fact that he was able to dominate a mere muggle sport had not surprised him in the least.

The big match had been earlier that day and most of the village had turned out to see it. Draco had been surprised to learn that most of the other team had been comprised of the wealthier muggles and, of course, wizarding teens of Crescent Nest. Draco could not fathom why any self-respecting wizard would want to run around a field like a muggle kicking a ball at a giant net. Playing any sport after Quidditch seemed impossibly dull to him. However, the local wizards and witches seemed to enjoy the mundane sport quite as much as their muggle counterparts. Draco knew that it was for this reason that his Father and Mother had never allowed him to have muggle or mudblood friends when he had been a child, neither had wanted their corrupting influences on their heir.

The Wizarding Families of Crescent Nest had taken on the burden of protecting muggles from all of the Dark Creatures that they were too stupid to comprehend and so it only seemed fair to Draco that it was these families that commanded most of the wealth and prestige in the town. The "Nesting Falcons" as the largely Wizarding dominated team was referred to had the advantage of nicer equipment, more training and the better field than the "Empty Nesters" as the boys from St. Michael's alongside the other poorer families in town called themselves.

Draco had gone down to watch the match alongside Angelus Blake, a soon-to-be Seventh Year Slytherin that Draco knew from Hogwarts, and Catherine more out of boredom than anything else. It was Saturday which meant that the Ministry Defense Class was not scheduled and he had finished his summer homework the previous week. It was a brilliant summer day, bright sun with a light breeze and though Draco would never admit it to another living soul he also couldn't help but be curious about watching Potter play the muggle sport.

Though rumors of his skill and speed had been spread all over the village, few people had seen him actually play. The Empty Nesters- a name that Draco assumed was meant to either inspire humor or pity for a bunch of rudderless orphans- practiced in the open field at the same times as the Nesting Falcons did on the other side of town on the proper pitch and Draco and Angelus were still in Defense Class at the time.

Draco was reluctantly impressed with the Ministry's effort at finally teaching them actual spells for a change. For years Defense Against the Dark Arts had been a joke of a class. They had been taught nothing and Draco knew that they were well below the level that they should performing at. The class was taught by Auror Trainer Aurora Tackley and though strict, she was undoubtedly confident and talented. Only about half of Draco's yearmates were attending the class, mostly Purebloods and Half-bloods with the exception of the mudblood Granger because she was both a prefect and loath to miss out on any class available to her. Draco had found that he rather enjoyed not only having the advantage his other classmates who couldn't attend the class, Potter especially, but liked marking the progress of the people in attendance. Knowledge was power and he intended to have as many answers as possible if the Dark Lord ever required information on the next generation of witches and wizards.

And to that end, he was about to see just how fit Potter was, even if it was against a bunch of muggles. Draco had never seen a muggle sporting event but he was surprised to find that it was not actually that different from watching a Quidditch match at Hogwarts. Either side of the pitch was dressed up the self-designated 'team colors' that they were supporting and were shouting a series of popular chants and whistles that they all seemed to know. While both teams had been known to play neighboring towns, the two home-grown town teams had a long standing rivalry. The richer kids were determined to show why they were superior, the poorer ones confident that this was the match that they were going to win at long last. Angelus had none-to-quietly informed Draco from the Nesting Falcon's stands that their team had an undefeated winning streak dating back for the past 5 years. Catherine had drifted off for the moment to greet some friends from the other side of the field. She was one of the few people present that seemed to genuinely support players on both teams and Draco was a bit surprised that no one seem to hold her divided loyalty against her. Then again, Catherine- in true Hufflepuff fashion- had always possessed the ability to bring all sides together rather than pull them apart.

"Angelus!" Draco turned towards the call of the feminine voice and felt his eyes widen and breath come up short. The girl hurrying over to them was simply gorgeous. Wavy dark hair, tight, form-fitting muggle- clothing that Draco suddenly had a new appreciation for.

"My cousin Elena," Angelus muttered and then more quietly, "muggle. Don't say anything you shouldn't."

Draco nodded, stunned that any muggle could look so magical.

"Nice seats, do you have room for me?" she asked with a smile, her exotic accent lilting gently over the words.

"Of course," Angelus answered courteously. "This is Draco Malfoy, he's staying with Mr. Snape at the Prince Estate for the summer."

Elena held out her hand, "pleasure. I think you're sitting on the wrong side, if you want to support Jimmy shouldn't you be sitting on the left?"

Draco raised an eyebrow at the thought of him ever supporting Potter but remained outwardly unmoved, "and what makes you so certain that I'm here for Evans anyway?"

Elena's glinted with amusement, "touché. I suppose I made an assumption given that you live together. I thought of sitting there myself by Angelus refused to move and I promised to sit with him." As if to prove a point she deliberately raised a hand and waved at the opposing sideline where Potter caught her eye and returned the gesture, an easy but delighted grin on his face, his eyes narrowing as he took in who she was sitting next to.

"My word, has Elena Consavas, unreachable gift to men, found herself smitten?" Angelus teased, his eyes following his cousin's gaze as she tracked Potter with her eyes. "I thought you generally liked the ones that were dark haired and mysterious." Nodding over at the brown hair and lighter features of 'Jimmy Evans'.

Elena shrugged, "I wouldn't say smitten, but I might say... intrigued. And how do you know he isn't mysterious?"

Angelus scoffed, "Crescent Nest's resident social chair? Have you been down to the local lately? He talks to everyone. He goes into every shop and chats up every clerk by name. I mean all of them," he added with a significant smirk.

"He's... friendly," Elena conceded seeming to search for the word as she was not entirely familiar with the language, brushing off the added innuendo, "but have you actually talked to him? Because if had you might notice that he isn't open. I've asked around and no one knows his whole story and he is the first person to work for Sylvia and not fallen under her spell. I told you- intriguing. Don't say to me half the people here aren't curious to see how he lives up to stories everyone's been saying about him."

There was no argument to be made about that, the town had practically been buzzing with news of the ringer that the Empty Nesters had found.

The game was set to begin when a last player ran over to the Potter's team, sprinting with graceful and easy speed, her long blond hair swaying in her ponytail. She was the only female player on either team.

"They actually agreed to let Regina Stallwarth play?" Angelus asked, his usual cool detachment replaced with genuine surprise.

"Who is she?" Draco asked. The girl was clearly fit. She was smaller than her male teammates but her legs showed muscled calves and carried her well across the field.

"Reggie is the girlest tomboy that you'll ever meet," another voice answered and Catherine retook her seat. "Loves playing high contact sports and getting dirty and then loves cleaning up and putting on more make up than Lavender Brown at a ball. She's been wanting to play with the Nesters for two years but Charlie wouldn't allow it. Said that she should start her own team for girls." Draco remembered with a wince the trouble that Brown had gone to at the Yule Ball. Even though she had only been a Fourth Year at the time, almost everyone had noticed the lengths the girl had gone to. Draco had been surprised that the effort she had taken had been outshone by Granger, who had managed to look like an actual witch for a change instead of just a bookworm mudblood.

"What changed his mind?" Angelus asked. "He's not one that's known to really have a change of heart once he's made up his mind."

"Jimmy." Catherine answered and to Draco's great annoyance Elena looked more interested than ever. In fact, rather than jealous when the blond across the field threw her arms around Potter before the match was set to begin, she only looked as though she had just accepted a challenge. Angelus gave his cousin a knowing smirk, apparently highly amused by her antics as he leaned and whispered to Draco, "Elena makes a few veela look tame when she sets her sights on someone, and she loves a challenge."

The players lined up in their appropriate positions and the whistle blew, Potter took off like a shot, two defenders hot on his tail. Potter ran up, he ran down, he cut to goal... and the ball was passed to Reggie on his left who was wide open and she kicked the ball directly into the goal. It took another goal for Draco to realize what the players on the field were still ignorant to- Potter couldn't play fooseball. Potter was running the opposition ragged while the sole female player on their team, one that had been left undefended so that they could double team Potter, carried the team to victory. If Draco didn't know better he would swear it was a plan worthy of a Slytherin. Draco had wondered why exactly the team had blown their advantage with a new player by telling everyone how good he was but he had chalked it up to combination of muggle ignorance and Potter's Gryffindor recklessness but now he understood. Potter was the distraction, and it was working. Slowly the supporters on the sidelines saw what Draco had already connected and started screaming at the players on the field to start guarding the girl that they had so far ignored. However, what the Seeker lacked in technical skill he more than more made up for in sheer speed. The players were winded now that they had been chasing Potter for a quarter of an hour and the skinny boy was still able to outstrip the other players, reaching the ball and getting it to the more skilled players on his team before this opponents were able to catch him.

Draco was reluctantly impressed with his school rival, he had seen Potter in the air and knew for a fact that when Potter went into a dive on his Firebolt, Viktor Krum himself would have been hard pressed to beat him, but he had not realized that that kind of speed had translated to moving just as fast on the ground. He knew that Potter had been running a lot in the past weeks but he had had no idea that he could run so fast for so long.

The Empty Nesters had walked away with a narrow 5 to 4 victory and their supporters had celebrated with enthusiasm. Draco had expected an uproar from his side of the pitch but most of spectators had applauded politely, commenting on the fact that it was nice to see a proper match for a change instead of a blow out.

"Cheer up lad," a older woman who worked as a florist said to one of the younger boys, "the Falcons will win the next one but it's nice to make our boys work for it a bit. Makes it all the better when we get them in the final aye?" It had seemed at the time that Potter could truly do no wrong to these people but under the surface tensions had already started to rise and while the spectators had enjoyed the battle of the match, the players of the opposing team had reached past their limit with a group of boys that they were used to one-upping until Potter had inserted himself into the equation.

The rest of the afternoon the town had ridden the high of the match and it had been with good spirts that everyone had met down at the local. It had promised to be an entertaining evening, good cheer and flowing alcohol all around. Four hours later and they were back in Snape's parlor and Potter was looking decidedly worse for wear.

"Potter you have always been a reckless, rule-breaker that has never had the ability or inclination to understand the need for discretion but even I would have thought that you would appreciate the need to keep up a respectable appearance in this town. I required three things from you. That you respect myself, my home and my guest and you managed to do none of these. The fact that you are an embarrassing drunk is only secondary to the fact that you started a brawl in the local pub and embarrassed me. So forgive me if I don't believe a simple apology is adequate." Snape's hands shook with anger and Draco suspected that he was only barely holding on to his temper. Snape had a reputation for being a bit of a recluse in the town and he preferred it that way. His mother's family name still carried prestige and a tradition of power that may have diminished in the past generation but still meant something to the man. The fact that Snape had been called down to collect his ward for fighting while drunk was humiliating and something the man would find unforgivable. Potter eyed Snape's shaking hands warily for a moment but seemed to conclude that the professor had restrained himself from physically lashing out.

Potter closed his eyes and took another deep breath, he was pale and his mouth held a grimace of pain. "Sir I didn't start that fight."

"You are a wizard Potter! Do you have any idea what could have happened if you had lost control? When you drink your emotions, your inhibitions, your magic- they are will all be out of control and you of all people you cannot afford such recklessness." Potter grimaced at the words and his shoulders tensed. His usual defensiveness was absent Draco suspected that Potter was even a bit frightened of what could have occurred. For the first time the thought struck him that Potter could have unleased substantial damage if he had in fact committed accidental magic. At their age, such occurrences were rare but it was known that the more powerful a person was the harder their magic was to control, add to that the fact that Potter had never experienced being inebriated before and his anger could have been disastrous.

Potter swallowed and his eyes looked guilty but perhaps ingrained habit led him at least try to defend himself. "I didn't start that fight but I couldn't-"

"Of course you couldn't bare not to involve yourself in anything and everything remotely dangerous!" Severus snarled at his student and Draco smirked at the other boy. He knew that it was more than that. Severus had always assumed that Potter had a need to be the center of attention. But Draco knew his rival better than that, the truth was Potter needed to rescue people. Especially the weak. It was why Potter had faithfully defended Longbottom for five years no matter how hopeless the virtual squib was. From their first flying lesson to five years of Snape's potion's classes, Potter had stubbornly refused to allow anyone to mock Gryffindor's least talented wizard, even at times when it had come at a potential cost to his own reputation. And somehow Potter's unfounded belief had seemingly paid off.

In the past year Longbottom had improved his spellcasting and become more confident overall. Draco remembered Daphne Greengrass and Theodore Nott commenting one day on the fact that learning new spells used to take him quite a while but suddenly he was picking up the movements quickly and producing powerful results. Greengrass was always conscious of the class rankings as she had stubbornly maintained the second-place spot for several years, the fact that a mudblood had secured the number one place from First Year on was a sore spot for all Slytherins. Therefore it came as no surprise that she had noticed the change in Longbottom's ability. Nott and Greengrass had not been sure what had caused the turn around, wondering if Longbottom was just an exceptionally late bloomer, but Draco knew better. Magic needs intent and wizards need confidence in that intent. Potter was the reason that Longbottom had improved. He had given the awkward, clumsy boy something that he had never received from his traditional Pureblood family, something that the Professors had never taken the time to encourage- Potter had somehow convinced Longbottom that he was worth something. And the funny thing was, once he believed it, it actually became true.

Potter had an inexplicable need to help the weak. It was that inane desire to care for and satisfy those that had no defense against the attacks and manipulations of others that had caused Potter to intervene in the fight tonight but Draco wasn't sure if the professor knew how Potter's weakness for hopeless cases had set the wheels in motion for some type of confrontation days ago. Snape was a highly intelligent man and Draco was more than aware that if not for the fact that he had a hatred for everything that Potter did, he would have seen it himself. They had both witnessed it after all.

Four days earlier Draco had just returned from his latest Defense class alongside Angelus and had needed to journey into the village to meet Severus who had needed to get some fresh potion's ingredients from the garden outside of Littlefold's apothecary. She had a truly impressive garden, made all the impressive by the fact that she was forced to care for it almost completely without magic. Occasionally a stray witch or wizard would cast a covert spell for her to hurry things along but she handled much of the grunt work either herself or had one of her assistants do it. Draco had endured the trip into the muggle-infested town in his muggle clothes with good humor at the thought of seeing Potter having to get his precious hands dirty.

Unfortunately when he had arrived Potter was nowhere in sight. Draco was informed by the squib that he was running an errand for her. Ever since the old woman had discovered that her pitiful squib was in fact Harry Bloody Potter, she had been more creative with her tasks. Potter still chopped the firewood for her and tended the garden but he was also responsible for almost all of her town business. Draco suspected the woman was willing to do anything in order to keep him as far from possible from the interior of the shop. She had been absolutely horrified by the fit that Potter had thrown. Jerky convulsions before losing all consciousness, even Draco had seen it had been particularly violent. His father had told him about the effects of the famous apothecary when he had been a child, Lucius had described it a slow and painful death. The magic wrestling with the strength of the man, pulling against anything that kept him alive until the magic finally won out and the wizard dropped dead. Potter's magic had won very quickly and as much as Draco would like to chalk it up to Potter being physically weak- he knew better. Which begged the unpopular question in his mind of- just how powerful was Potter?

Severus had been in his usual foul mood, exacerbated by the nice weather outside. Draco knew that quite unlike most people who felt a lightening of their worries and problems when the sun shone brightly, Severus only felt angrier at the increased noise level from children playing.

"Gather the fresh day-dragons," Severus told him shortly. Knowing better than to argue, Draco started on his task, grateful that the garden was in such good order that he didn't have to dig around for what he was looking for. Draco waited until he was positive that they were utterly alone.

"I think Potter might suspect something," Draco finally admitted quietly. He had been wrestling with whether or not to bring this up, the last thing he wanted was for the man to call off their plan as a precaution but the fear of actually failing the Dark Lord was enough that he knew they could afford no mistakes.

"Potter is naturally suspicious of everything that we do, though it has not helped that you have continually look at him like the Seeker that's caught the snitch. Your smugness is a visceral thing- remember we have not succeeded yet. Patience is a virtue and that goes hand in hand with humility until the right time."

Draco would have liked to protest but he knew that he was as guilty as Severus claimed. The anticipation of it all was killing him. Revenge. His thought had been practically obsessive. Two nights previous he had vividly dreamed of the moment when Potter's eyes would light with the knowledge that he had lost and that it had been all his doing. "Is the plan still set?" he asked instead.

Severus nodded. "The full moon is the 25th, Dimitri Anghelescu has invited us to his celebration, you know that he looking to replace his father in social standing and he is planning quite the affair for the end of summer. Potter will be made to attend under the guise of being my gracious guest and the plan is set to commence at 12:30, just as we will be leaving the event. Timing is important Draco," Severus stressed and Draco nodded, inwardly satisfied that Severus was so intent on keeping everything so scheduled. He had his own plans that night. He appreciated everything that Severus had done for him and his family but Draco needed to secure his own position with the Dark Lord and he could not afford to share the spotlight. There were no consolations prizes among the Dark Lord's servants as his father had taught him. Draco had his own timing that night and he would be sure not miss it.

"Was Avery successful?" Draco asked as much due to curiosity as to change the subject away from specifics of the plan to capture Potter.

Severus gave him an unimpressed look, "naturally, you and I are both aware of the current state of the Ministry. They have proven to be delightfully inefficient."

Draco frowned, the Prophet had been trying valiantly to put a positive spin on the Ministry's efforts for weeks but it was no secret that the Aurors were being overwhelmed. There had been multiple devastating attacks and it was clear that the Aurors were not up to the right standard. But there was still something that didn't sit well with Draco. "Tackley trained them, and she seems to know what she's about."

"Tackley is a vast improvement over any other Defense teacher you've been exposed to but don't let the fact that you've had a horrible education thus far cloud your judgement and allow someone that is mediocre be considered great. She is an excellent dueler and has a vast array of knowledge but she is also dated and unoriginal. The fact that she has moved from training Aurors to teaching Hogwarts students is an appropriate shift. She provides an excellent base for understanding in any situation and will teach all of you well, but the Ministry has not improved its ideas in over a century and the fact that the Aurors are as unimaginative in their training as students is something that we will use to our advantage. As you are aware Draco, our society is built upon tradition, but even we must acknowledge the need for innovation at times."

Draco nodded, taking in the advice. He had never seen Snape in a fight but his father had once told him that in the First War Severus Snape had been a fearsome sight. He had joined young, just after his seventeenth birthday but his skill with dark curses and potions had quickly won him favor. At the time that the Dark Lord had inexplicably fallen to Potter, Draco knew that Severus had been only 21, and yet he had already become part of the Inner Circle- trusted and treasured above so many other older supposedly more experienced followers. Followers that had served their Lord for years but had contributed nothing but blind loyalty. Worth- that was the difference between surviving and thriving and Draco needed to prove to the Dark Lord that he was in fact a worthwhile investment of the man's time and trust.

They continued working for about a quarter of hour in silence and Draco was already feeling hot and sweaty from the sun. His hands and pants were filthy from working in the dirt and he resented the fact that he was working in a field while Potter was off doing Merlin knew what.

"Hi Mr. Snape!" a small childish voice called from behind them both. Severus' shoulder's tensed and Draco knew that the older man was actively restraining himself from snapping at a boy that looked to be about 6 years old. He was thin-faced with a set of thread bare clothes that hung off him. Obviously a boy from the Children's Home.

"What are you doing here?" Severus answered, his deep voice silky and Draco knew that the small boy did not understand the danger in those words.

"I'm looking for Travis. He's my brother. We's was a opposed to get picked up by our uncle but he's late, really, really late and Travis isn't waiting like he's a opposed to."

Draco winced at the butchering of the English language that the child had done but at least he had the sheer amusement of watching the physical pain that Severus seemed to feel from such hearing such a statement.

"How late is your uncle?" Severus asked, glancing back at the main road as though in hope that the man would appear and rescue him from this conversation.

"Three days."

"Three... I don't think he's coming," Draco told him confused as to why no one else had broken the news to boy yet.

The small boy shook his dark head, his wide brown eyes blinking at him innocently. "No he's gotta come. Daddy is in trouble and can't get us and mummy said that we gots to go with Uncle Jeffery. She said so. But it's only for a little while then we can goes back to her. He's just busy, sometimes he and Daddy goes to pubs and forgets to come back right away."

Severus raised an eyebrow at the statement and looked significantly at Draco as though warning him against saying anything further. The boy continued, clearly oblivious to anything being strange about his statement. "I think Uncle Jeffery mighta found Travis anyways because Charlie told me this morning when I was looking that he was teaching us the Orphan Shuffle. Do you know what that is? Is like a dance? We learned dances at school but I gets mixed up with the steps. Do you think it's hard? Do you think Travis will show me?"

"Er... I don't... I don't know what that is," Draco answered nonplused. He supposed it was some sort of muggle custom for children that were taken by the government from unfit homes. Perhaps something to do with paperwork or some such thing and judging from Severus' reaction, he was just as ignorant of the term as Draco was.

"Travis!" the small boy yelled suddenly, apparently seeing the object of his search, and Draco saw that the boy in question was actually about his age, perhaps a year or so younger and nearly an enlarged copy of his younger brother. The older boy was sporting a rather impressive black eye with a yellowing bruise on the opposite cheek. He was walking alongside Potter, who was carrying two bags of supplies for Sylvia, and another muggle boy. The three older boys were in deep discussion, Travis' expression was one of deep preoccupation which led Draco to believe that while his brother might be delightfully oblivious as to what a three day wait from their uncle might mean, the teenager was not. Potter was nodding, his own expression serious but concerned while the third boy had a look of smug amusement on his face, clearly unconcerned about Travis's predicament. The small boy, who Draco realized had never offered a name, ran up to them. Potter was the first greet him, his mouth quickly shifting from a firm, serious line to an easy smile.

"Alright Miles? I thought you were going to help Abby in the kitchen."

The boy ran up to the three teens so that the four of them were about 15 meters away. Far enough that Potter was not immediately aware of their presence, or perhaps the better the word was concerned about it for there was no doubt that he could see them. However, they were still close enough that both Draco and Severus could hear the conversation clearly.

"Hiya Jimmy! Abby told me that I was such a big help that I was already done!" Severus raised an eyebrow at that remark in Draco's direction and Draco returned it with a knowing smirk, while Travis and Charlie both looked rather amused. Potter only nodded, though his lips quirked up as well. Miles turned to his brother, "I was looking everywhere for you! Have you seen Uncle Jeffery? Did he you teach the Orphan Shuffle like Charlie said?"

Draco quickly spotted 'Charlie', from the spark of cruelty in the boy's eyes, Draco recognized it as someone who was about to reap the fruits of a well-played prank. Potter and the brother both looked confused for a moment, Potter mouthing the words before realization lighted his eyes. He turned and sent a glare at the taller blond boy, whispering harshly, "really?"

Travis was quite obviously still in the dark alongside Draco but had at least determined that the other boy's intentions had not been ones of kindness towards his younger brother. Draco noticed that Severus had finished gathering his needed herbs but curiosity had apparently held him from actively leaving, the older man was buying his time at this point, moving slower than necessary so that Potter would not realize that potion's master was at all interested in his latest drama.

"What is it? Can you show me?" the small boy persisted, unaware that he had stepped right into the punchline of a cruel joke.

Travis grimaced, his tone curt and annoyed as he spoke. "It's not a dance-"

"Miles," Potter cut in, "Charlie wasn't talking about a dance he was letting you in on a secret. Travis was going to tell you when you saw you but Charlie," and here Potter deliberately elbowed the other boy none too gently as a subtle but forceful rebuke of the boy's actions. "He almost spoiled it."

"What's the secret?" Miles asked anxiously.

"Jeffery isn't coming," Travis muttered dully, his face was pale and there were dark shadows under his eyes as though he had not been sleeping. The small boy might not have been bothered when his uncle had been delayed a couple of days but the teen had realized that whatever plans had been made for their guardianship had obviously fallen through and the uncertainly was clearly weighing on him. His battered face gave Draco a rather blunt answer to the question of what kind of trouble the father was in.

Miles blinked in disbelief. "But he has to! Mummy said."

"Yeah well mum was wrong-"

"But now you get to know the secret," Potter said firmly, crouching down so that he was kneeling in front of the small boy that was now suddenly on the verge of tears. "I do?"

"That's right. I know that you were only supposed to stay at St. Michael's until your family came to pick you up but what most people don't even know is that everyone who stays here is like one big family and they're all," Potter shot a warning look up at Charlie with this word, "going to look out for you. Travis most of all. You know what that means?"

The younger boy shook his head. "It means that you get a much bigger family than most people and in a way it's even more special. You don't have to worry about your uncle coming because you can always choose your family from the people that make you the happiest. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Miles frowned as though unsure, he glanced at Travis whose expression had hardened. "But... what about mummy and daddy?"

"Jesus Miles! How can you still believe-"

"Family is anyone that you want it to be," Potter jumped in loudly, standing up so that he was next to the teenager, he was talking over the boy firmly but somehow refrained from being outwardly aggressive, placing a hand on Travis' shoulder as a way of holding back whatever he had been about to say. "It can be as big or small as you want but the important thing is that you care about them and that you remember that they care about you. Even if they can't be with you right then."

"Like how mummy has to stay with Daddy because he needs her right now?"

Potter's jaw twitched at that but he nodded, "right. Even if she can't be with you right this minute, it doesn't mean that she doesn't love you. But it also doesn't mean that you don't get to find other people that care about you too. Travis loves you and as long as you can stay with him, he's going to take care of you and everything is going to be alright."

The older brother closed his eyes and breathed out, his face tight with tension but he still nodded, "that's right Miles. We're in this together. Don't worry about Jeffery. Listen, I have to talk to Jim for a minute, go find Sylvie and give her this bag, alright? We'll bring the other one in when we're done. Can you do that for me?"

The six year old agreed happily, clearly proud to be asked for his help in this task and ran towards the shop with the bag.

Travis turned back to Potter, his expression still tense and worried. "I don't know if I should be thanking you or telling you to shut the hell up. You shouldn't be telling him that I have all the answers and that everything's going to be alright."

Charlie snorted and looked amused but Potter turned, facing away from Draco so that he could not see the expression on the wizard's face but he could see that it silenced the muggle in a way that was a probably a unique experience to a boy that Draco could see was used to doing as he pleased when it came to his treatment of others. Potter then turned back towards Travis, any evidence of whatever his expression had been was gone.

Potter shook his head, "to him you do have all the answers and that's the important thing."

"And when he finds out that I don't?"

"Who said that you don't?" Potter challenged. "You told me that you've been through this before. You know what to expect. You've already done more for Miles than anyone ever did for you. When you were his age, would you have believed everything your mum said about how things are going to be different after she gets your Dad some help? Would you have trusted them that much?"

Travis raised an eyebrow at that, his lips curling into a sneer. Potter nodded. "Don't let a bunch of idiots that don't know you convince you that you don't know what you're doing in your own life. You've fought this long and you're going to be a legal adult in a couple of years. If you need to, get emancipated. Don't wait for other people to do what you need to do for yourself and Miles."

Travis snorted, "easy for you to say. Have you ever had to deal with one of those loonies from Child Welfare?"

Potter shrugged and his voice was a bit colder as he laid down a firmer tone than before. "No. But I do know that sitting around and complaining about how it's unfair that the Crown wants to put Miles in a foster home away from you isn't going to help anything. Things aren't hopeless, you said yourself that they don't like to split up siblings if they can help it. What you need to do now is prove what you can do instead of sitting around worrying about what you can't." Potter ran a hand through his hair distractedly, his tone suddenly lightening. "I know it's not easy Travis, and I've never had a younger brother to look out for on top of myself but you've done a great job so far. You can do this."

Travis was silent a minute before he said softly, "No one will take both of us."

Potter tilted his head, "then you stay at St. Michael's. Create your own family like I told Miles."

Travis' shoulder's sagged as though crumbling under a weight, or was it that the tension was finally gone from them? He looked up at grinned at the dark-haired boy. "You sure you have to back to that posh school of yours? You and I both know that you must hate hanging around all those rich snobs. You could be part of the extended St. Michael's family you're so keen on."

Potter gave a good natured laugh. "Sorry mate, already put in enough time at school for me to give in now, rich snobs or no. Now go find Miles and stop him before he thinks he can go help Sylvie with something."

Travis rolled his eyes with exasperation at that but hurried back towards the shop.

Potter nodded and watched him go before rounding on Charlie who had been remarkably quiet during the exchange. All friendliness was gone from his tone. "Orphan Shuffle? Are you kidding? He's six."

Charlies shrugged, unconcerned, "I don't see why that doesn't mean that he shouldn't learn the way of things. He'll get shipped around and no one will want him. Or at least they won't want him and Travis together, and you're kidding yourself if you think Travis is going to be able to stop it. He's six, he's cute- he has a shot at least, but Travis? C'mon Evans even you can't be that daft. You think you did them a favor? At least I didn't give the kid false hope."

"Don't act like you were doing this as a favor either! You weren't preparing him for the possibility of getting split up from his brother, you liked the fact that someone else is as miserable as you are," Potter hissed.

Charlie's good humor vanished and in an instant he was angry and aggressive. He clenched his fists and took a step towards Potter, clearly read to strike, but the wizard stood his ground with an expression that showed that he was supremely unimpressed. "You better watch it Evans, you can't afford to go around making everyone an enemy. Wasn't it bad enough that you already got into today with Derrick and Jackson?"

"Isn't it bad enough that I already had to stop one pretentious asshole from picking on a kid that's already had a shit week?" Potter shot back. "You think I'm worried about making enemies? I promise you Charlie, you have no idea how I good I am at making enemies and fighting my own battles. In fact I think I'm even starting to enjoy it, so by all means, keep going. Keep acting like you're the only one around here that has ever had any problems so that lets you treat everyone else like shite. But I'm telling you now Charlie that as good as I am making enemies- I'm even better at fighting them." Potter's voice was slow and cold and Draco felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He had only seen Potter like this a handful of times, the most notable had been at the end of last year when Snape and McGonagall had both interrupted their fight in their corridor. When Potter had so calmly told the feared Potion's Professor that he was debating which curse to use on him, the Gryffindor's entire being supremely unconcerned with any repercussions for his actions.

Charlie was a shade paler but to his credit he didn't back down fully. While the muggle boy had clearly realized that he had made a mistake in antagonizing the black-haired boy he still seemed uncertain as to how much danger the skinny teenager actually posed. Muggles were not used to gaging someone by the sheer power that radiated from them and it must have been a rather confusing experience because there was no doubt that he felt something.

There was a beat of silence before Potter's voice softened, and his last words were quiet but spoken with intensity, "if you know what it's like to have life beat you down, the least you can do is help someone else when they've been kicked in the teeth."

Charlie sneered, "because people just lined up to help me, right?"

"They should have. But that's on them, what you do is on you, Charlie. You know that these kids will do anything that you ask them to do. They look up to you, why not do something that's actually worth seeing?" he asked with his brow raised.

The blond teen looked vaguely taken aback by this question but after a moment he nodded, his expression thoughtful, as he walked away. It was only once he was gone that Potter seemed to fully grasp that less than 20 meters away were his two Housemates for the summer. Draco wasn't sure what kind of reaction he had expected from Potter at seeing the two of them there, but he knew that the cool stare and challenging lift to his brow was not it. Potter knew that Draco had heard what he had said about fighting enemies- and it was clear that the warning was meant for him too.

HPHPHPHP

Snape had finished mixing his concoction and was rubbing it onto Potter's battered face. The Gryffindor was sitting stiffly, looking strangely confused at this behavior but for once was not commenting. He had not responded to Snape's last accusation, that he had behaved arrogantly and rashly.

Potter's brow furrowed as though in pain and his face flinched but he said nothing.

"I'm surprised Potter, I expected more of your excuses and justifications for your appalling behavior. In my experience it's never the great Harry Potter that is responsible for anything."

"And in my experience you blame me for everything anyway, so what does it really matter?" Potter muttered under his breath. His left-hand knuckles white as they gripped the sofa cushion, giving Draco the impression that Potter was not fully concentrating on what he was saying.

Regardless of circumstances, Snape was unimpressed with the attitude. "I allowed you more latitude than I should have. I, of course, had my doubts, but the Headmaster encouraged the idea that you be allowed to interact in the village. No doubt he was under the impression that the precious so-called 'Chosen One' needed to move past the pathetic grief that you were wallowing in at the end of last year over a man that you barely knew. He thought a bit of a distraction was needed but from all appearances you haven't spared your beloved godfather much of a thought since you got here."

Any color in Potter's pale face drained from it and he blinked for a second in pure shock. Even Draco felt this particular insult was rather below the belt but it was no secret that Severus had been far from upset at the news of Black's death. Draco did not know the history personally but his mother had told him in the past of the fact that Severus had had a particularly fierce hatred for both Potter Senior and Black for years.

Snape's expression was one of fury as he continued on relentlessly, seemingly unmoved by Potter's state of shock. "Any leniency in my treatment towards you is over. You will leave for work at Madame Littlefold's at 8:30 and I expect you back at the Manor by 4:30. You will be expected to spend your evenings in the parlor where I will watch you actually open a book and complete the summer assignments that I doubt you have finished or if you have I am certain are not up to any decent standard. Your free reign in this town comes to an end tonight, am I understood?"

Potter's shock melted into an expressionless mask as he answered coldly, "yes sir."

HPHPHPHP

Draco had entered the pub at a little after half past nine and Potter was already playing darts with a group of lads and older men that looked as though they could have been grandfathers. The whole room was loud, shouting over blaring music that sounded ridiculous but was evidently popular among the muggles. The older men present were chatting with Potter while the younger lads were telling jokes and laughing drunkenly. Draco couldn't hear what was being said until the appearance of the blond girl- Reggie- from that afternoon. Catherine had been correct, the girl liked to dress up after the match was done for the day and was currently wearing a tight black dress was appealing in all the right places.

"Jimmy! You have to dance with me, this is my favorite song!"

"Er...not really a dancer Reggie," Potter hedged.

"Oh no you don't, you don't get to ditch me after the match we had today. Teammates are always there for each other!" She shouted expressively, her arms were wide open and she was smiling at him winningly. Potter flushed and shuffled uncomfortably. "I...er..."

Reggie was undeterred and captured both his hands, pulling him out on the dance floor as she said, "you can't not dance to this song! Everyone loves it." Draco couldn't make out Potter's response but Reggie threw back her head and laughed. "you're kidding? You don't know who sings this?"

Potter shook his head, looking bemused as he glanced around at the other teens that looked just as shocked at hearing this news. "You've never heard of the Spice Girls?"

Potter shook his head, answered drily. "I lead a very deprived life, Reggie."

"Well, we are going to fix that," Reggie answered, her eyes twinkling with a promise of something a bit more than a mere dance. Potter's flush was visible from across the room and Draco snickered to himself that the great Boy-Who-Lived was always so uncomfortable with direct attention. Fame truly was wasted on the wrong people.

Reggie laughed and pulled Potter forward, urging him to dance with her. Potter was looking awkward and hesitant but more pliant than usual, thanks in large part, Draco could only assume, from the row of empty glasses.

"Unbelievable," Angelus muttered at his side. He nodded over to the temporarily abandoned dart board. "That squib has some sort of mystery skills. He's beaten the last five blokes and the last one he did while pissed out of his bloody mind." Draco smirked. He could see Potter swaying clumsily on the dance floor and could only imagine Severus' reaction when Potter came stumbling home. Draco, of course, would ensure that the older man would be awake to greet the boy home. It was only the responsible thing to do.

"Come on," Angelus mentioned, "let me show you around." As it turned out, Draco knew quite a few of the wizards present both from Hogwarts and in some cases social circles that their families were in though under normal circumstances, they knew enough not to encourage him into anymore muggle interaction than was strictly necessary, tonight there was no avoiding it. Soon he found himself in the center of a large group of boys, most of whom had played on the Nesting Falcon's team that afternoon, and unlike the opposite of the room, they were not at all impressed with the new boy Jimmy

Like any small town Crescent Nest had a very established pecking order, one that placed the people from the richer, most established families at the top and the ones that lacked the proper connections at the bottom. This was the natural way of things as far as Draco was concerned and was not surprised at all that Potter was once again trying to stick his nose in where it didn't belong. Potter's need to defend anything and everything that was blatantly pathetic had evidently reared its ugly head and he had been known to tell of more than one of the boys when they had said anything that he disapproved of. The other boys complained loudly and with increasing anger about the presumption that so many of the boys seemed to have.

The tall blond, Charlie, had been a sworn enemy of theirs for some time, but it was Evans that seemed to get under their skin in the way that Draco knew only a Potter was capable of doing. Potter made it clear that he was not about to let anyone pick on people that he considered friends and had a way of humiliating the other boys in front of their girlfriends- who suddenly seemed t be sympathetic towards the less fortunate kids in the town.

Another hour passed and as the drinks flowed, it became clear that the former hierarchy was going to need to be reestablished- one way or the other. The music blared, changing from a catchy tune that came back to the phrase "I'll Love You Always, Forever" over and over and into a rousing club song that apparently came out of Manchester called "Move Move Move" that got the noise volume up near deafening levels. The conversation shifted to other topics, more specifically ranking some of the women and how likely they were to take notice of them.

Draco was enjoying himself, allowing himself to melt away from the concerns that had been plaguing him all summer. Guilt and concern for his father, worry about his mother. Her Healer had written earlier that day and was optimistic about her progress but was sorry to say that at the moment she wasn't able to contact him. It was too upsetting. Writing to her own son had become too upsetting for her.

His worry for his parents and his need to prove himself to Dark Lord was what kept directing his thoughts back to the plan against Potter. It was perfect and the stupid prat would never even see it coming. With every passing day it was becoming harder and harder to wait. Just four more days.

He had lost track of Potter at some point but he caught sight of him being pulled in from somewhere outside alongside the blond fooseballer, her tight dress a little further up her thigh, his collar even more rumpled than before.

The night should have ended right then. Most of the boys that Potter had been hanging around with had left for the night. The group home had a curfew and while some were stretching its limits most had decided to toe the line. Everyone else was comfortably drunk and happy but Potter had a knack for attracting trouble in the most mundane of situations and tonight was no exception. It started innocently enough. Some of the lads from the Nesting Falcons drunkenly commiserating their loss- perhaps a bit more bitter than was strictly necessary.

At first Potter seemed determined to ignore them. While some of his remaining teammates- the hot-headed Charlie first among them- had been eager to respond, Potter had pulled them back, claiming that it wasn't worth it. And then Jackson Smith, Pureblood member to a family that had belonged to the Hufflepuffs for a couple of centuries and a few years older than his cousin Zachariah, made the mistake of taking things too far.

"Oy Travis-"

"Smith I told you, let it go. It was one match and you lost. Let it go and I'll buy you a drink," Potter tried once more. His eyes were unfocused and from Draco's vantage point at the edge of the growing crowd he was almost impressed that the impulsive Gryffindor had managed to hold in his vicious temper as long as he had. He was currently the only thing preserving the peace between two groups that had been on a collision course ever since Potter had disrupted the natural order of things by defending the targets of the boy's teasing. Potter had never appreacited the fact that society was built around those in charge and those that served- insisting that everyone was equal and should be treated with respect. It was the reason that he hung around the mudblood Granger. Though he supposed that one picked the Weasleys as an example of what a Pureblood family should represent, the message was easily muddled.

"What's the matter? Crower can't fight his own battles? I though the only person that beat him down was his old man? Then again, maybe you should be buying him the drinks Evans- I'm sure he'll wind up being a drunk just like his old man!"

Travis had started forward but once again Potter's hand was on the other boy's shoulder and pulled him back. For a moment it looked as though Potter was going to once again tell the other lads to ignore what was being said or perhaps even get them all to leave. They were outnumbered at this point- it was the only reason that the boys had chosen this moment to speak in the first place. Just as any winning side would do, they had waited until they had sure advantage and then struck where it hurt the most. It would the height of stupidity for Evans and his muggle mates to fight them now.

But then Potter turned around- and punched the taller boy squarely in the jaw. The thing that surprised Draco was not seeing the punch- it was hearing the distinctive crack against the jawbone.

That was all it had taken and chaos had reigned. Both sides and fallen on one another, with Draco free to watch the melee from relative safety. There was no need for him to dirty his hands, Potter had taken on at least three of them, one of punching him in the stomach only for Potter to turn and elbow him in the face, breaking the boy's jaw. Draco could see that Potter was not the strongest hitter, nor was the most intimidating with his medium stature and thin frame. But he could take a punch, shaking off the pain as though it meant nothing to him and unlike so many of the other boys who were stood their ground as they punched or kicked their enemy- taking as much punishment as giving- Potter knew how to duck and turn to avoid as many blows as possible.

Finally one of his assailants viciously threw him over a table, causing him to smack his head soundly on the side. Blood had trailed his temple, down his cheek and Potter had snarled and grabbed the chair to use as a weapon. He had only been stopped from knocking a boy a half a foot taller then him over the head with it when the police had arrive.

And after them- Snape.

HPHPHPHP

"Give me your hands," Severus demanded after he finished attending to Potter's face and casting a spell to fix the two broken ribs he had suffered.

Potter was silent as he raised his right hand, his expression had closed down after the man had brought up his deceased godfather and strangely Draco could not feel entirely happy about that. Draco had been present at the will reading, had heard Black's final words to his godson. He had not known that the two of them were as close as they had apparently been, but judging from the note Black had left and the fact that it had been the only time in five years that he had seen Potter cry (and Merlin knew it was a feat he had tried on more than occasion to accomplish) even if it had been brief, he knew that Snape had been wrong to say that Potter didn't care about the man.

But all of that was pushed out his mind as he looked down at Potter's hands. "What's that?" Draco asked, his eyes on Potter, unable to believe what he was seeing.

Potter blinked for a moment in honest confusion before his brain seemed to kick back into gear and he turned his wrist slightly, catching the sight of the aging white scars on his right hand. He snatched his hand away in what seemed to be more instinct than conscious thought before slowly bringing it back to the forefront. His expression hardened, but there was no shame or embarrassment, if anything there was open defiance.

Potter's quick movements alongside Draco's questions had captured the attention of the potion's master who was eyeing the boy in front of him with suspicion before glancing down and taking in a rather sharp breath. "Potter?"

Potter only raised his hand up closer, his expression still hard and unrelenting.

"I must not tell lies?" Draco asked with a mixture of surprise and distain. "Merlin Potter, I know Gryffindor's wear their hearts on their sleeves and all but isn't that taking things a bit far?"

"Potter..." Snape's voice was low and dangerous. Potter looked a bit startled for a moment and though he couldn't say for certain, Draco thought it was perhaps because the dark haired boy didn't expect the man to care about the injury in the first place. "Explain how you came about this scar. The whole truth." Snape's black eyes were boring into the younger man with an emotion that Draco had never seen from him before, if he didn't know better he would think it might have been concern. Concern for Potter- what a concept.

"Umbridge. When I had detention with her, she had me do lines," he explained, shrugging uncomfortably at the scrutinizing gaze that he was receiving from both Slytherins at this point.

"She had you carve the words into your hand?" Snape asked incredulously.

"Not exactly," Potter admitted, "she just had me use a quill that used my blood to write and it would magically carve it in."

Snape leaned over and snatched Potter's hand before he could recoil. Once the Potion's Master had seen that Potter wasn't going to rip his arm away, he loosened his grip and he held it lightly in his left hand while running his wand over it with his right.

"Something like this, a scar this deep from the type of magic used... it would have taken a long time to make," Snape commented, eyes flicking briefly to Potter's face. Draco was also looking at the deep scar and he realized his mouth had fallen slightly open, contain his surprise. Severus was right, something like that would have taken a long time and though Draco had always known that the Gryffindor was stubborn to a fault he found this to be rather ridiculous. "I seem to recall you spending an inordinate amount of time with Professor Umbridge last year, how many of those detentions were spent using the quill?" Severus asked quietly.

Potter pursed his lips, his initial defiance at being questioned about the scar seemed to be sliding into wariness about the interest that Snape was taking in him. "All of them."

Draco coughed at that, unable to conceal his shock that someone- someone his own age- would show up day after day and do that to themselves and never tell a professor about it, but Snape's only reaction was a tightening of the corners of his mouth.

"Why these words? What did she accuse you of lying about?"

"What do you think? The same thing the Ministry was trying to lie about all year. She wanted me to say that Voldemort-"

"Don't say the Dark Lord's name!" both Slytherins snarled angrily.

"You can't make me help him win!" Potter yelled back suddenly furious. His sudden anger threw them both off and there was a beat of silence. Severus was the first to recover, his eyes growing dark with anger.

"Only fools delude themselves into thinking that the Dark Lord is an enemy that you can beat with sheer defiance," Snape snarled. "He is a master sorcerer who has decades of experience and more power than someone like yourself can even imagine. This idea that you have that you are his equal merely because he hasn't succeeded in killing you yet is arrogant in the extreme and will lead to your downfall."

Potter lifted his chin and spoke clearly. "Every time you call him the 'Dark Lord' or 'You-Know-Who', all you're doing is giving him more power. He feeds off of it. The Ministry did nothing last year because they were too terrified to even admit that he could be back! If you think you're telling me something I don't know by telling me that Voldemort is better than me, than you can save your breath, I already know that! But I also won't give him any more power than he already has. The more people that are afraid, the less they will fight against him. Voldemort might be more powerful than me- but he's only one person. If enough people stand up to him than it really doesn't matter how powerful he is. He's not more powerful than everyone."

Severus was quiet, as though actually thinking about Potter's words but Draco knew that Potter was missing the important part. He sneered at the boy's stupidity, "He isn't alone Potter- you're forgetting the fact that the Dark Lord has his own followers. Do you think that people will stand up against his Death Eaters too?"

Potter turned a flat expression back to Draco. "Most of the Death Eaters are cowards." Draco glared at him, angered by the insult against his father, against the type of man that he was working to become. Cowards- what an extraordinarily Gryffindor ideal, the idea that anyone that challenged them and their view of the world was in the wrong. The Dark Lord had a vision and those that helped him achieve it, who were bold enough to step out of the confines of a world that stifled the Wizarding population in favor of weak, pathetic muggles, were not cowards- they were the ones unafraid of change. Unafraid of progress the way the Blood Traitors were that clung to the idea that they actually owed something to the muggles despite the fact that they were so clearly inferior.

Potter wasn't done. "They fight with Voldemort because they think he's going to win, which only means the same thing. I might not be able to stop Voldemort, he might even kill me, but he can't make me be afraid of him."

There was brief twitch in Snape's face before it became expressionless once more. He took another moment of silence, more time to collect himself than Draco had ever seen the man need before, before continuing.

"Let us focus on the matter at hand, did Dolores Umbridge use this method with all of the students that received detention with her?" he asked sharply, looking at Draco for confirmation.

Draco held up both hands and shook his head. "I wouldn't know, I never got detention from her."

Potter rolled his eyes, "Of course not, you and that toad were thick as thieves," he muttered. Draco only lifted an eyebrow, he would not apologize for playing the game better than the reckless Gryffindor. Umbridge was annoying hanger-on that strove hard to be above her station but ultimately understood the order of things. One needed to be in a position of power to get respect and Draco had ensured that he had maintained power. While Potter was getting his hand sliced open and was being banned from Quidditch, Draco had received more favors and power than ever before. Gryffindor's needed a flashy, moral victory, but the Malfoys were true Slytherins and a Slytherin always knew that true ambition rested in the ends justifying the means.

"Potter?" Snape continued, asking the other boy whether he had been the only one to suffer this unique form of torture.

"I don't think she used it for most. I know she used it on Lee Jordan once after the niffler in her office because I told him to use Murlap Essence to help with the sting but I think she mostly wanted to make sure that whoever she used it on wouldn't say anything," Potter admitted.

"And you willingly played into her hands like a nice little masochistic puppet?" Snape snarled at him, any semblance of something like concern gone with his return to anger.

"You think I should have let her win?" Potter challenged.

"Win? I think the permanent scar on your hand there proves that you lost. What is your definition of winging pray tell?"

"I think that we both started off the year at Hogwarts and next year I'll be there and she won't," Potter answered smugly, surprising Draco with the vindictive quality in his voice. He had heard about Umbridge getting tramped in the Forest and he had assumed it be a lucky accident but there a glint in Potter's eye that showed that he and that mudblood of his had extracted revenge. And he had enjoyed it. "I think that a lot of people who didn't know what to believe, know that I was telling the truth. I think this scar doesn't say anything that isn't true. I don't lie and I don't run away from a fight just because it gets hard."

"And in 10 years? Longer? Will you always be so happy to have that scar on your hand?"

Potter raised an eyebrow and sent Severus a glare that could have frozen fire, "I'll be happy that I stood up for what's right. There are worse scars I could have," he added with a significant look at Severus' left arm.

Snape's face contorted and for a moment he looked as though he might strike Potter himself, undoing any healing that he had just offered the boy but in a moment of either coincident or fate said scar burned with urgency, just as a scar on Potter's body of far more notoriety than the one on his hand could ever hope to achieve, made its own importance known. Severus clamped down on his left arm with a hiss of pain just as Potter's hand shot up to his head and a whimpering moan escaped his lips before he could stop it. "Draco I think we've all had enough excitement for the night, I think it best if you retire to your rooms," he said with a significant look. Draco nodded, his own eyes narrowed with purpose. They both knew that Draco would be coming to the meeting, with his own arm shamefully unmarked for the moment he could not receive the summons personally but with his upcoming mission there was no doubt that his presence would be expected, but they could not let Potter know that.

For his part, Potter seemed as though he would incapable of noticing where Draco went that night as he was currently blinded with pain. His eyes were screwed tightly closed, his knuckles wrapped tightly together. "Potter, take this," Snape commanded, pressing a pain relieving potion into the boy's hand.

Potter looked up in confusion, before settling into distaste and Draco knew that it galled the proud Gryffindor to have to accept help from someone that he considered his moral inferior. Draco could only think that Potter better appreciate the hospitable treatment while it lasted, because in a few days he was going to begging for more than a simple pain reliever.

"Thank you," he said stiffly. He downed the vial in a single gulp but there was no noticeable decrease in the amount of agony that he was in. "Go to your room and stay there, I do not want to find out that you were wandering around without my knowledge, is that clear? I do not expect to see until the morning."

Potter stood, his posture still stiff with pain as he walked out of the room his only response was, "you better be careful, he's pissed right now."

Suddenly Draco found himself wishing for the first time that he had followed his mother's pleas and never involved himself with a volatile Dark Lord.

A/N: Sorry this took some time, this was a hard one for me. I wanted to try a bit of a different style when it came to Draco's POV and skip back and forth between one night and the events of the previous week and it was harder than I thought to give away the right information for Draco to see at the right time. Let me know what you think! Thanks again to everyone that has kept up with this :)