Harry wondered what happened to him, over the span of two days after his birthday. He was becoming more social. 'Was it because of Elizabeth?' he thought to himself, 'Maybe…maybe.'

He continued musing until he saw a great eagle owl enter the room. It landed in front of him and stuck out his leg.

Harry took off the letter, and in a swoop of large wings, the eagle owl was gone.

'Dear Harry Potter,' it read.

'I realize that you and I were not on the best of terms, ever, but I'm asking you to do this one thing. Just one. I want you to come by and pick up my father. Obviously, if I just turn him in to the authorities, they'll think I just chickened out of the Death Eater scheme and wanted to turn my own father in as a back-up for my so-called story. The fact is the authorities don't like me. Much less than you, or even Weasley, does. I'm not asking you to forget all the mean things I've done to you in the past. I'm just asking you to pick up my father so I don't have to take the blame for something I didn't do. We're at Malfoy Manor.

From,
Draco Malfoy'

'So, the tables have turned, Mr. Malfoy,' was the first thing that popped into Harry's head. But it just didn't seem right. Draco had done nothing since Hogwarts. He worked as a shopkeeper in Knockturn Alley, but it was the only shop that didn't sell things to hurt others.

Harry thought he'd better check it out if Draco really does have the elusive Lucius Malfoy at his command. He got out his emergency Floo powder and shouted, "Malfoy Manor!" as he walked into the flames.

He was suddenly in the dreariest house anyone could ever live in, if, in fact, one could live in such desolate conditions. He saw a house-elf, right before it squealed, ran out of the room and shut the door.

"What do you want, Lamor? What do you mean? Man in the fire place?" Harry heard a masculine voice demand from outside the door. The door opened and Harry saw blonde hair and stone cold gray eyes.

"Oh, it's you, isn't it? Well, thanks for the warning," he drawled.

"I'm doing you a favor, Malfoy. Wouldn't want to ruin it and end up in Azkaban with dear old Daddy, now, would you?" Harry sneered.

Surprisingly, Draco's countenance changed to, not one of worry, but one of understanding. The smirk disappeared. He nodded and motioned for Harry to come out of the parlor to see his father.

Draco led Harry down into the dungeons of Malfoy Manor. Harry looked at the decaying prison with disgust. Luckily, he saw only one person being held hostage in this putrefaction of cells.

He looked about fifty or sixty, his blonde hair now completely white. His eyes, closed with fatigue, Harry guessed, would have been the same gray as his son's. He looked so old and fragile.

"Malfoy, what have you done?" Harry asked as he gazed at the pathetic excuse for an aging man.

"Don't start thinking he's just a harmless old codger, now, Potter. He's still the cold, conniving bastard he was when he tried to curse you in your second year. Don't let him fool you. He's only sleeping now because he gave up his bet," Draco said at Harry's question.

"Bet?" Harry inquired.

"Yes, Potter, my father lost his bet to me. He brought it up. I just agreed. He said that if he would stay awake for five days, I'd have to become a Death Eater. No doubt, that before Voldemort had been destroyed, my father could stay up for six, maybe seven, days at a time, worrying. If he slept before then, he wouldn't like what he finds when he wakes up. That was two days ago," he explained. There was no malevolent pleasure in his eyes, only blank nothingness. He sighed and looked at Harry.

"You'll have to wait until he wakes up to stun him and take him in…"

"What do you mean, stun him? Why would I need to stun a decrepit old man to bring him to the ministry of magic's office?" Harry asked.

"Because that decrepit old man still holds a wand and a brain and mouth to use it. He might not look like much, but he can still cast a competent killing curse and a malicious Cruciatus curse," Draco warned.

"Why are you warning me?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Listen, Potter, I know you and I will never be friends. We just don't get along, you and I. But that doesn't mean anyone who doesn't get along with the famous Harry Potter is on the bad side. I don't want to see more people hurt by this cur. He doesn't deserve to walk the streets. I'm on the good side, Potter, and whether or not you wish to believe it, well…That's up to you," Draco stated. He stopped talking when he heard his father groan.

"Malfoy, wake up," Draco commanded sharply.

The old man's eyes shot open immediately. He glared from Draco to Harry, and he became livid.

"You cheating son-of-a-"

"As much liking you take to insulting me, Mr. Potter is not here to listen to it. Do you know why he's here, Lucius?" Draco asked without any sign of respect.

"He's here because you put a sleeping draft in my food, you little bastard…I'm going to get you! The Dark Lord can still come back! His destroyer's discontented…He'll never really be happy and that will be your side's flaw! And, you, boy, you will get your comeuppance! You are an ungrateful little…"

"Stupefy," Harry cursed. He saw now why the old man had to be stunned. He wouldn't stop rambling.

"A sharp tongue can slice its own throat, Malfoy. Remember that while you're rotting in Azkaban behind the dragons, and they're being guarded by a Weasley. Imagine that, the great Lucius Malfoy, stuck in a prison, guarded by a wizard regarded as much a nothing as his father, and you can't get out…"

"Malfoy," Harry warned. He could tell he liked harassing his father, but he really needed to shut up about Ron.

"Sorry, Potter. I can get as carried away as he can when I'm telling him the truth. But, yes. I suppose you should take him in, now," Draco muttered.

"I believe I should," Harry replied as he opened the cell and cursed, "Mobilicorpus."

"Oh, and Harry," Draco said to Harry's retreating back. He turned around and waited for what Draco had to say.

"Thank you," Draco said.

Harry nodded, and preceded to take Lucius to the Ministry of Magic's office.

'What is with Malfoy?' Harry considered as he directed the still stunned Lucius around the office. He found the temporary jail and its guard.

"Ah, Seamus, my friend. How've you been?" Harry asked the man behind the desk.

He was Seamus Finnegan. "The same as always, Harry. Who's this?" he replied.

"This, Mr. Finnegan, is Lucius Malfoy. I found him stalking an old fr—er—acquaintance. I caught him easily enough. I think he forgot his Disillusionment Charm, this time," Harry commented offhand. 'Did I almost call Draco a friend?' Harry thought, 'And did I just call him Draco? Yes, I did, and he called me Harry…odd, really odd…'

He turned Lucius in, and he was to be at Azkaban as soon as possible.

'What had Lucius meant when he said Voldemort's destroyer's discontented? I know I'm his destroyer, but how am I discontented? That makes no sense. Who was he talking about when he said someone will never really be happy? Me or Voldemort? Lucius Malfoy might be confusing…but his son's mind-boggling. I'll have to ask Elizabeth. She might know something as off-the-wall as this…'

But Harry completely forgot to ask Elizabeth anything.