Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Potterverse, or anything that J. K. Rowling does. I do, however, own the plot... which means no stealing. However, if for some reason you would like to use parts of it, just ask.

A/N: As you may have seen in the previous chapter, this whole story got reworked and republished in October 2010, and it's now September 2012. My intention then was not only to rewrite the existing chapters, but to write and post new chapters as well. Since then, life has gotten in the way and I had to put writing on the backburner yet again. Again, I can't promise when this story will be over, but I'm going to start working on it again.

To my old readers, thank you for sticking with me over the years and giving this another chance. To my new readers, thank you for picking this up.

Chapter Ten

Panic and Circumstance

Harry poked at his cooling food halfheartedly. The clamor in the Great Hall was only a faint buzzing in his ears and his usually vibrant eyes were dull and glazed. Every few seconds or so, his head would bob up and down as he fought to stay awake. Harry was exhausted; he had stayed up all night with Draco, and the lack of sleep was beginning to take its toll.

Whatever had possessed him to stay up so late was beyond Harry. His mind was fuzzy and his memory was a blur of seemingly random images and colors. His head was pounding violently and his eyes screamed to be shut.

Harry was partially brought out of his stupor by the weight of a hand on his shoulder. Harry ignored it- he was too tired to talk this morning.

The hand started gently shaking his shoulder, but Harry didn't care. He was exhausted, and it probably wasn't important anyway.

The shaking became more insistent and Harry slowly rotated his head a few degrees, acknowledging the hand's presence, but the shaking didn't stop. He was getting annoyed, but he didn't feel like doing anything about it. He just didn't care.

Harry's shoulder was being shaken rather forcefully now, and he could feel his aching muscles strain as they fought to remain tense. He turned his head around completely and saw the person who was disturbing him.

It was Ron. Harry muttered unintelligibly under his breath and shook his shoulder free, ignoring the redhead.

Harry could see that Ron was offended, but he didn't care. Ron probably just wanted to talk about quidditch anyway. Harry mentally shrugged (he didn't want to waste his remaining energy, as stupid as that sounds) and gathered his belongings, preparing to leave.

Draco, on the other hand, seemed more like his usual self. He and Pansy were chatting casually while Blaise was once again scanning the Great Hall for potential "victims", as he liked to call them. Blaise chuckled softly as he locked eyes with a Ravenclaw seventh year. The two nodded discreetly and slipped out of breakfast. Draco noticed this silent exchange and arched an aristocratic eyebrow. Blaise was just too predictable.

Yet again, Draco spared a glance at his roomate. Not that the Gryffindor boy noticed. Draco's constant staring could be described as borderline obsessive lately, but Harry was oblivious, as usual. And it looked like he had a horrible hangover. Draco snorted in spite of himself- apparently Harry had forgotten to take the hangover potion Draco had left out for him.

'Typical Harry,' Draco thought, 'always forgetting things...wait... hangover potion? Why the hell would he...SHIT!'

Draco panicked; he had almost forgotten the conversation he had had with Harry last night. And what was worse- he could barely remember it! He hoped that he hadn't said something too personal (here Draco shuddered) or revealed too much.

Draco mentally smacked himself on the forehead, not wanting others to notice his distress. He wasn't a Slytherin for nothing, you know.

The blond cursed and reluctantly turned his attention to Pansy, who was currently ranting on about some rude person she met in Diagon Alley over the summer. Draco rolled his eyes and went back to eating his now cold sausage, trying not to attract attention to himself. He did not want Harry to see him in a panic, lest the younger boy remember what had happened and cause a scene.

It didn't take long after that for Draco's eyes to settle on the Gryffindor table again. As he watched the raven-haired boy sitting there, his heart raced even more than it already was. Harry had been on his mind a lot lately, and he wondered why. Was it because of their situation? Was it because of their newfound, although hesitant, friendship? Was it last night?

Now that he thought about it rationally, Draco figured it couldn't have been their conversation. He was careful and didn't reveal a lot about himself, so there was no reason to worry. It was just a conversation, he reasoned. Nothing to be worried about.

But what if it was? As his brain struggled to remember what happened last night, Draco once again realized that the details were fuzzy. He had to have a talk with Harry. And soon.

Draco looked toward the Gryffindor table and realized that Harry was gone. Draco cursed and stomped out of the Great Hall. Since when did he not pay attention to what was happening around him?. He had spent so much time musing that he hadn't noticed the raven-haired youth quietly slip out of breakfast.

As Draco sprinted down the corridors looking for Harry, he heard a snatch of an odd conversation drifting out of a seemingly empty classroom. The blond, ever curious, slowed his pace and crept to the slightly ajar door.

The sight that met his eyes would be burned into his mind forever.

His father... his father... was having a "conversation" with none other than the Headmaster himself. The last time Draco had seen the older blond, Lucius had been locked up in a cell in Azkaban. And to his knowledge, the elder Malfoy was supposed to be there right now. How had he gotten out?

Head reeling, Draco extended his head farther around the corner, just enough to get a clearer view of what was going on.

"Now, now, now, Albus," Lucius was purring with a smirk on his face. "Have you forgottten our little agreement so soon?"

"Of course not, Lucius." Dumbledore said softly. His eyes weren't twinkling; actually, they seemed rather dull. It was quite disconcerting.

"Excellent. How is the boy?"

"Which one? Potter? Or your son?"

"Both, old man!" Lucius snapped, his patience clearly wearing thin. "I don't have all day, so get on with it."

"Oh, I believe you do. Have you forgotten where you're supposed to be right now? And let's not forget who got you out of there in the first place. You have all the time in the world."

Lucius was silent, his mouth a firm line etched in his pale face. The Headmaster, sensing no further argument to that matter, continued.

"The Potter boy is being taken care of as we speak. As for your son, we have not detained him yet. It seems as though he is not in his room. Rest assured, though, we are looking into that matter right now. Both boys will have the Dark Mark within the week, no doubt about it. And have you kept up your part of the deal?"

"I already told you," Lucius spat. "You will receive the item as soon as both brats are delivered- together- to the Dark Lord, and no sooner."

"Excellent. We shall speak again soon."

"Oh, and Albus?"

"Yes, Lucius?"

"One more thing... never insult a Death Eater..."

Draco, sensing that the so-called meeting was ending, moved to get out of the way and out of sight. As he was turning around, however, a flicker of movement caught his eye. Draco turned back to the classroom and gasped at what he saw.

"Crucio!" Lucius was saying, over and over again. "Crucio!"

The once proud Headmaster was writhing on the floor in agony and reaching out to the ceiling. To his credit, though, Dumbledore was keeping silent throughout the humiliating and intense torture. Draco knew only too well how it felt, and for a moment his heart went out to the old man. The poor wizard probably couldn't take much more...

Draco stumbled back in horror, his hand clasped over his mouth, and ran away from the classroom as fast as he could. He knew his father was a bastard, but the look on the man's face could only be described as demented. He was actually enjoying it. Draco felt sick to his stomach, and the running he was doing wasn't helping.

As Draco staggered through the corridors, his mind was racing. How could his father refer to him and Harry as if they were only property? What was the deal he had made with Dumbledore? How the hell did he get out of Azkaban and what was he doing in Hogwarts? Why were he and Harry even involved?

Draco had the sneaking suspicion that something horrible was going to happen, and it was going to happen soon.

Draco drifted in and out of consciousness as he fought the urge to empty his stomach's contents right there in the corridor. He had to keep going at all costs.

'Everything was going so well... how could something like this happen?' Draco thought.

'I have to warn Harry... if only it's not too late...'

He knew, though, that it was too late to help Harry. And the hand that suddenly wrapped around his neck from behind confirmed it.

. : . : . : .

Coming up: Professor Snape encounters the elder Malfoy... also longer chapters and less author's notes ;)

Thank you for reading. Reviews are always appreciated :)

A/N: I'm aware that the new friendships between the characters were formed rather quickly in this story. Unfortunately, I have no real explanation for that other than when I originally started this piece several few years ago, my writing was less mature and the plot was all jumbled. So please bear with me and just overlook that fact :)

-=Nix=-