Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I do own the chocolate bar that is melting in this infernal heat which is making it rather hard to eat it.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Most of you know I usually reply to reviews right before I put up the next chapter, well, not anymore, just because it takes a while to do that in one sitting, so I will reply pretty much as soon as I get your reviews. This way, you're not getting a reply the day after you review and go looking for a new chapter and getting disappointed that there isn't one. One other thing, the wait was long for this chapter, and it probably will be for the next chapter as well because of stupid finals. If you are angry, perhaps you could take it up with my professors, lol.

Chicklepea: Woot! Cookies. And as for D/G, not in this story, but because so many people want it D/G, and because I'm liking the idea more and more, D/G in the sequel, (if/when I write one)
Kely5: Thanks for the review, and no romance in this story, but maybe a sequel
E-san: Sorry about the wait, but I'm in the middle of finals. Thanks for reviewing and I'm glad you like the story
Gremlin: the plot doth thicken, indeed, thanks for the review!
Mask: Yes, thank you, I am. See you soon, babe.
Slickslytherin: Yeah, the wait was long, but finals are evil! lol
Dbi626: thanks for the review, and yes, more will be explored with the complicated relationship of Draco and Lucius
To my amazing beta, Thank You!

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Chapter 25

Rule twenty-two: If you must go and play hero, make sure someone else gets the credit.

Draco found that he had to do very little explaining to the Slytherins about just exactly why he had chosen to save Ginevra Weasley. Of course, the fact that the spell he had used took an extreme amount of power helped with the intimidation factor, but because the curse was so close to being Dark Magic and because he had gotten away with it, the Slytherins seemed to be more impressed with him than worried that Draco might have gone soft.

Just to quash the few rumors that had broken out (mainly spread by Nott), Draco let it be known that after the ghoul was through with the Weasley girl, it was most likely going for him next, and his best chance at destroying it was early on when he had a clean shot. Besides, ghouls gained strength by eating, and the last thing he wanted was to face an energized dark spirit. Nott said nothing more because sometimes looking out for yourself meant inadvertently helping others.

That did not mean that Draco was thrilled to discover an ancient, frail owl heading his way during breakfast the day after. He looked on in genuine disgust as the bedraggled, sickened owl collapsed on the table in front of him. All of Slytherin was silent, staring at the creature, and the rest of the Great Hall slowly stopped their speculations about the events of the day before and slowly turned to see Draco's reaction.

With his face the picture of condescension, Draco carefully reached out and plucked the letter from the owl's twitching leg, making a show of not touching the creature to the snickers of his house. His name was written on the front in a pleasant, round script. He nimbly unsealed the letter and skimmed it over, then read it again, keeping his face impassive and guarded.

To Mr. Draco Malfoy,
I understand from my son Bill, your Ancient Runes professor, that during an attack on Hogwarts you saved my daughter's life while at great risk to yourself. While nothing I can do can repay the debt we now owe to you, I felt that at the very least I could send you this note of thanks, from myself and the entire Weasley family. Thank you.
Molly Weasley

It was by far the nicest letter he had ever received, and he hated the faintly pleased feeling the words invoked. He stood abruptly and walked over to the Gryffindor table where Ron Weasley sat, his face scarlet with a mixture of rage and embarrassment. All of the students tracked his progress, waiting for the encounter with baited breath and much whispering.

"I assume that pathetic creature would be your family owl, Weasley?" he asked scornfully.

"And if it is?" asked Ron, belligerently.

Draco tossed the letter onto their table, glaring at the lot of them.

"Tell your mother to keep her thanks to herself," he sneered. "Merlin knows you can't afford to give away anything."

Ron jumped to his feet, and no doubt the incident was going to turn extremely ugly, when the door burst open, and a woman came forward escorted by Professor Sprout. She went straight to a curly-haired child at the Hufflepuff table.

"Teddy, go pack your things," she said. "You're leaving."

"But Mum!" the child protested.

"Don't talk back, Teddy. It's much too dangerous for you here. I practically fainted at the Daily Prophet article that was released last night. Mrs. Reblan and Mr. Thatcher will be pulling out Rowan and Hester as well later this afternoon, so you're not the only one." The woman nodded at the child's friends, who looked disappointed but also a little fearful.

Flitwick came into the room then as well, with two other parental figures in tow who went to collect their children at the Ravenclaw table.

"They're leaving?" he heard Potter ask incredulously, but then the morning post came. Draco's own personal delivery owl flew right to him and Draco took the paper, reading the main headline with a raised eyebrow.

"Monsters released in Hogwarts by Death Eater Spy!"

It was then that Dumbledore entered the room and stood at his position at the Head Table, clearing his voice to get everyone's attention.

"Good morning," he said pleasantly, as if two dark ghouls and a troll had not just attacked the school. "As many of you know, because secrets travel faster than bad news in this school, several dangerous creatures were released from inside the school yesterday. I am happy to report that you all behaved in an exemplary manner during the crisis, so that there were no casualties besides a few bumps and bruises. Not only did you students defend yourselves against such creatures, you also protected each other, even at the risk of personal injury."

Dumbledore paused to have his eyes twinkle annoyingly in Draco's direction and he glared.

Rule twenty-two: If you must go and play hero, make sure someone else gets the credit.

Dumbledore merely smiled and continued.

"It is now my regret to inform you exactly why these creatures were released. It seems that the Ministry was very much fooled when they appointed us our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Professor Stevick was not only responsible for the attacks of yesterday, but also for the two attacks on the Quidditch pitch. He is a follower of Voldemort and has been taken to Azkaban for questioning."

There were gasps and whispers all around.

"Stevick? A Death Eater?"

"How did he fool the Ministry?"

"Death Eater? No way!"

"Grand. My mum's going to flip. She already didn't want me here in the beginning of the year."

Draco stayed silent as the Headmaster continued. "For those students who have parents who wish to take them out of the school, your belongings will be packed by the house elves and there are carriages waiting outside to take you to the train station. We here at Hogwarts wish you the best of luck and hope to see you when things calm down. On a happier note, it is my pleasure to inform you all that Professor Lupin will be returning to finish up the term as our Defense Professor."

Draco resisted the urge to clamp his hands over his ears as the Gryffindor table burst into deafening cheers, the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students also applauding. Only the Slytherin table looked unhappy, glaring at the others and frowning. He frowned as well. While Stevick had tried to destroy the entire school, Lupin was tight with the Gryffindors and Draco was not looking forward to DADA.

Sure enough, Lupin arrived that afternoon. Draco was going to library when he passed the entrance hall to see the werewolf surrounded by Potter, Granger, Weasley and the Weaselette who were all wondering how he had been. Even Bill was there, and Draco glowered at that and then continued his trek towards the library.

It was even worse in DADA. Those sixth years who were taking the NEWT DADA classes (which was the majority of the sixth years) were all in the same class, and three-fourths of them were all congratulating Lupin on his return, to which he smiled nicely and thanked them. He hadn't changed much, besides the fact that he looked somewhat older. His clothes were still worn, though neat, and his manner just as soft spoken, but his eyes were darker, sadder. Draco remembered that Sirius Black had died last year and that Lucius had told him that Black and Lupin used to be close.

He vaguely wondered how Black had died. He knew it had been sometime during the attack on the Ministry when Lucius had been captured by the Aurors, but he had never heard the whole story.

"Dementors," said Lupin, finally getting the class settled down. "Who can tell me about them?"

Draco had to admit that he was a good teacher, something that irked him, but he took solace in the fact that he didn't have to learn anything. He already knew it.

"Correct, Hermione," said Lupin, after she rattled off a text book reply. "Five points to Gryffindor. Can anyone tell me how dementors breed?"

Beside him Pansy rolled her eyes as Hermione raised her hand again, but to be fair, Lupin called on Blaise instead, who earned five points for his house as well.

"Dementors are found on the island prison of Azkaban," said Lupin, "and they are under control of the Ministry."

The Slytherins, including Draco, snorted at that. The dementors, as of late, were anything but under control of the Ministry.

They received glares from the other students, who were hanging onto Lupin's every word, and they glared right back in response. Lupin continued, ignoring all of them.

"While no defense against a dementor is easy, the most common one used is the Patronus charm. Each Patronus has a different form that it takes on, personalized for each original caster. To properly work the Patronus, it is important to first think of a very happy memory and then say the words 'Expecto Patronum'. Let's all try to say it together then."

Draco rolled his eyes as the class dutifully repeated the words.

"Excellent," said Lupin. "Now, we will try casting the charm, so everyone up and to the left wall. Remember, think of your happiest memory."

The class eagerly got to their feet and headed to the wall so that they would all cast in the same direction and not at each other.

"Once you have your happy memory, try to cast," said Lupin.

To Draco's surprise, quite a few people cast the charm successfully first time. Lupin looked surprised as well so Hermione spoke up.

"We had a defense club last year," she said. "This was one of the charms we learned."

Ah, yes, the defense club. Draco smirked slightly when he remembered the events leading up to their capture. Yes, he hated Umbridge, but he couldn't resist turning in the Golden Trio.

"Well, then," said Lupin. "I am impressed. You must have had a wonderful teacher."

Draco felt like gagging at the overly sweet compliment to Potter, who merely blushed as the other members of the DA all smiled at the boy hero.

"Well then, those of you who know how to cast the charm, please help those who do not."

The class resumed trying to cast the charm, this time though the room was full of quite instruction, although none of it was directed to the Slytherins. Lupin made up for it by coming across the room to help them himself. Draco ignored the werewolf and instead looked around the room at all of the animals. There was a surprising range of animals, horses, lions, a snake, a hawk, a otter (from Granger), two unicorns, a dolphin, a penguin, and various other animals.

"Mr. Malfoy," said Lupin, getting his and the rest of the class's attention. "Would you at least try the charm?"

"Don't see the point," said Draco.

"And what are you going to do if a dementor attacks you?" asked the teacher.

"Infusco accendo," said Draco, shrugging slightly, as if he didn't just mention a dark curse.

The class burst into whispers; Lupin frowned slightly.

"That curse is illegal, Mr. Malfoy," said Lupin reprovingly.

"So is a dementor attack, so I can't be tried," said Draco.

"Today we are learning about the Patronus though," said Lupin. "You need to at least attempt the charm." His gaze was level and unmoving so Draco sighed.

"Expecto Patronum," he said listlessly, waving his wand even more indolently. Nothing happened but Lupin smiled at him.

"Thank you for cooperating Mr. Malfoy," he said. "Is anyone else having trouble?"

There was silence so the teacher continued.

"Before you leave, I would like you all to remember that conjuring a Patronus now and conjuring one when you face a dementor are two incredibly different things. To demonstrate this, I have secured the help of Harry, whose Boggart is a dementor. Now I wish you all to stay where you are, and when the dementor forms, try to cast the charm."

Lupin walked over to a trunk on the floor in the front of the room and Harry joined him, looking slightly pale behind his glasses. Lupin counted down, and opened the lid.

Immediately the room dropped twenty degrees and a cold feeling seemed to dissipate into Draco's veins. A scaly hand reached up from the trunk and the dementor slowly rose. Students shivered.

"Cast the charm," said Lupin, and the students tried to conjure up their animals, but none came.

Draco could feel the cold seeping in, his mind flashing back to his worst memories. Lying on his bed, screaming at his father for not giving him the drugs while he convulsed. The funeral where Draco choked and shuddered, unable to cry. His brother falling with the smile-

"Expecto Patronum!" Harry shouted. A stag burst from his wand, charging the dementor and sending him back into the trunk. The room seemed to brighten and students gasped and gulped in the warm air.

"Now that you know what to expect," said Lupin. "Let's try it one more time."

No, Draco wanted to say. He didn't want to see his brother die again, but the trunk was already opening.

The cold didn't just seep in that time; it hit them all with all the force of the Hogwarts Express. He could see Lukas, laughing. Falling. The smile still on his face, though his eyes were vacant. He wanted to scream. He wanted to run forward, to catch his brother, as if that would make it all better, but he couldn't move, and his brother was falling, falling, fal - His mind shot to the warm memory of the zoo in France with Lukas, and he was moving before he consciously decided to.

"Expecto Patronum!"

The shout tore from his throat. He was standing a few steps away from the wall, his wand pointed at the dementor.

The dragon erupted from his wand, its jaws open and snarling, showing wickedly sharp teeth made of silver. The powerful wings only had to beat once, and then it was there at the dementor, forcing it back into the trunk, and then lapping the room once more before slowly dissipating.

Draco realized that the entire class was staring at him and that he was shaking slightly, his wand still pointed where the dementor was. He slowly lowered his wand and took in a deep breath to steady himself, wanting to do nothing more than to find the nearest toilet and throw up into it.

He glared at them all and then stalked back to his seat to pack up his things, his fingers fumbling with the clasps on his bag. Class was nearly out.

"Fifteen points to Slytherin," said Lupin. "That was quite an impressive Patronus, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco didn't respond and then the bell rang, signaling the end of class.

"An essay on the Patronus charm for Friday," said Lupin. "A foot and a half. For those of you who need it, I have chocolate on my desk."

Draco left the room.

He went back after dinner when the room was deserted; he had a sick fascination with Boggarts. He even conversed with his on occasion, though he hadn't seen one in two years. The house-elves back at the Manor had found the one he kept in the music room organ bench.

He silently unlocked the door and then shut it behind him, lighting the lamps in the room with a wave of his wand. He walked over to the trunk and then spelled open the lid and waited. His Boggart always liked to make an entrance.

Slowly, the figure sat up, lying one hand lightly on the side of the trunk, before gracefully standing and stepping out, right up in Draco's face. And Draco stared back at himself.

"Long time, no see," he told the Boggart who looked like him, or rather, who would have looked like him, if not for the haggard face, the frightening glint in unsteady grey eyes, and the maniacal smile hovering on the pale lips. They were dressed differently as well. The Boggart-him had on deep red velvet robes that were so fashionable, they were gaudy, though he pulled it off rather well and only looked eccentric and flashy.

"And you still haven't conquered the world," said his doppelganger. "Pity. I have."

"You have in my nightmares," said Draco. "It's not real."

"Don't you mean to say 'I have in my nightmares'? Because I am you, or rather what you could be. Lord Draco, ruler of England. I think you could do it."

Draco raised his eyebrow at Lord Draco. "I know I could do it," he said. "That's why you are my Boggart. If I couldn't take over England, it wouldn't be something to fear."

"Your deepest fear," corrected Lord Draco, stepping back and swaying slightly, the grey eyes unfocused.

"You're high again," said Draco.

"Correction," said Lord Draco, a triumphant grin on his face, "you are high. You're always high. High and drunk, like mother-dearest. Merlin, she knew how to live."

"Before I killed her, of course," said Draco.

"Naturally," said Lord Draco. "Don't you want to? To kill her? Look at what she did to you, to Lucius."

"Killed him too, remember?" asked Draco.

"Oh, yeah," said Lord Draco. "You did kill him. Him and…," here the Boggart paused, searching for another fear. "Bill!" Lord Draco said delightedly. "You killed him too!"

Draco felt a sick feeling in his stomach, though whether it was from the idea that killing Bill was one of his greatest fears or from the fact that he knew he could kill him, he didn't know.

"I was afraid that would be a new development," he muttered. Lord Draco burst into laughter, crazed laughter, spinning around so that his robes twirled as well, revealing black silk pants tucked into brown leather boots with slight heels.

"Of course you are afraid of that!" he giggled, stopping his spin and putting his hands over his mouth. "That's why I brought it up!"

"You used to be so much more fun to converse with," said Draco, studying 'himself' critically. Years of being on drugs and alcohol had caused his – other – frame to become skinny and stretched and red rimmed his grey eyes. What was the most disturbing however, was the fact that a part of him actually wanted to become Lord Draco.

Draco liked power. He liked being the one to hold the reigns, not only because he was a Slytherin and a Malfoy and the feeling of power was a rush, but because he honestly thought he could do better than those fools in the Ministry now. He was a genius after all. However, he was genius enough to know that power has a bad habit of corrupting people. Just look at his Boggart. He had taken over England, and then killed his mother and father, along with countless others.

"That was be-before you became so afraid of potions," said Lord Draco, hiccupping slightly and swaying again before he sat heavily down on a spare chair. "It's nice, you know. I feel so good. I have no worries, no concerns. You know what it's like."

"Yes, I do," said Draco.

"You want some," said Lord Draco, leaning in and whispering in his ear. "You want some so badly sometimes." The Boggart reached up to lay a hand on his shoulder, but his sleeve fell down revealing the Dark Mark branded on white flesh. Draco stared at it, thinking about the summer coming up.

"Don't stare," said Lord Draco. "Besides, after you got it, you made it possible for Harry Potter to finish Voldemort off."

"Don't remind me," said Draco. He hated hearing about how he could take over England, because it had actually been a plan when he was younger.

"I'm supposed to," said Lord Draco, giggling again. "I'm your deepest fear, remember? Besides, isn't that why you pull me out and talk to me? To 'remind' yourself?" It was said sarcastically.

"Maybe I'm just insane," said Draco.

"You are," said Lord Draco. "At least, I am, so you are afraid of going nuts with your genius. I kill, you know. Almost everyday. People just don't understand!" The last was said in a shout. Lord Draco jumped to his feet, pacing about the room, his voice raw and choked up. "I don't want to kill them, sometimes, but I have to, just so people follow me. And sometimes, sometimes it feels so good! They look up at me with their big eyes, pleading, begging me. And I laugh, because I love it so."

Lord Draco trailed off into the afore mentioned laughter, taking a vial of purple and silver swirled liquid out of his pocket and downing it. His eyes went slightly dark.

"You want some?" he asked Draco.

Draco felt the familiar urge to snatch it, and drink it, but it wasn't real, he knew that. Besides, he didn't want to become like this.

"Oh, that's right," said Lord Draco. "You quit." He smothered a laugh with his fingers over his mouth, and then Draco heard a voice that was not his.

"Draco?"

Draco whirled around to see Bill Weasley standing in the doorway, a puzzled look on his face. Draco sighed.

"If you are going to come in, would you close the door?" he asked, knowing that he would have to explain this.

Bill did so, looking at his clone, who was staring curiously back at the Professor with the maniacal grin on his face.

"Aren't you going to introduce us, Draco?" asked Lord Draco.

"Lord Draco," said Draco, "this is Bill, my Ancient Runes professor. Bill, this is Lord Draco, my Boggart."

"Well, I'm not his exactly," said Lord Draco, swaying again. "I'm actually no ones Boggart, I'm just his manifestation of his biggest fear."

Bill looked between the two. "Lord Draco?" he questioned.

"I took over the world!" exclaimed Lord Draco, twirling around again in giddiness. He stumbled and Draco caught him, holding onto his arm until he had his balance.

"Thank you," said Lord Draco. "You're an alright sort of chap, even if you haven't taken over the world yet."

"I thought I took over England," said Draco.

"We're working on the rest," said Lord Draco. "I found these amazing things called nuclear bombs and I'm really optimistic."

"So this is your deepest fear?" said Bill. "To become a drunk with bad fashion sense?"

"Hey! I resent that!" said Lord Draco. He swayed again. "I think I'll let you explain," he said in a mock whisper to Draco.

Draco sighed again, sitting on a table as Bill did as well, though keeping far away from Lord Draco who was beginning to twirl again.

"I actually did take over England," said Draco. "Well, at least I did from where he's standing. I took the Dark Mark, but then played both sides, tricking Voldemort into getting killed by Potter. Then, once everyone thought that I was reformed and all, I ran for economic assistant for the Minister of Magic. I killed Potter along the way because he was the only one more popular than me, blaming it on a group of uncaught Death Eaters. I then dated Hermione Granger for a while, just because as she was the most prominent Muggle-born witch, I could insure my own popularity. She was, most unfortunately, strangled in her sleep and the blame was placed on jealous boyfriend Ron Weasley, who I challenged to a duel and killed."

Bill looked shaken at that, staring at him with something faintly reminiscent of horror.

"Once the Golden Trio was out of the way, I was the only real war hero left besides various Aurors and Dumbledore. Dumbledore dies of old age, and no one detects the poison in his morning cup of pumpkin and apple juice. Gradually, I am elected to vice Minister and then a scandal involving smuggled funds gets the Minister kicked out and I take over. Then, I gradually invoke more and more restrictions, purely because there are 'attacks' by the escaped Death Eaters. Those attacks are of my own making and the wizarding world, grateful that I do not discriminate against Mudbloods, gladly accepts the new laws."

Lord Draco toppled over, pulled another vial out of his pocket and drained it. Draco watched himself for a moment and then turned back to Bill.

"I gradually dissolve the board of governors, and then appease the crowd by publicly executing my father who is supposedly responsible for all of the attacks. Then I dissolve the board of representatives after I have captured the rest of the Death Eaters, which include my staunchest enemies on the political floor. Once they are dead, I gain full control, kill my mother because I hate her, and slowly become hooked on illegal potions and other drugs."

"And now we're taking over the world," said Lord Draco from the floor. "And I kill Bill too. You forgot that one."

Draco glared at Lord Draco, but Lord Draco blathered on.

"It's a new development," he told the professor seriously, "the one where I kill you. That's why he forgot, but he really is a genius."

Bill stared at him, or it rather. He turned to Draco.

"You put a lot of thought into this?" he asked.

Draco shrugged. "I used to entertain myself when I was home alone about how to take over England," he said. "When I actually came up with a viable plan and realized it was possible, my Boggart turned into this."

"I used to be dark," said Lord Draco. "You know, night time. He used to be terrified of the dark, but he's not anymore. I'm all grown up now, you see."

"Alright," said Draco. "Time for you to go away."

Lord Draco stared at him; Draco winced. It always got ugly at this part.

"Don't you want some Angel-Flight?" he asked.

"No," said Draco firmly.

"You're lying. You've been wanting it since you were thirteen."

"You need to go now."

"I'm ruler of England!" Lord Draco screamed. "You can't tell me what to do. I have the power; you have the power!"

"No, I don't," said Draco.

"You want it! You want the power just like Voldemort."

"But I want more not to have it."

"You're a liar!"

"No, Lord Draco. You are the liar. Get back in the trunk."

Lord Draco glared but begrudgingly got in the trunk and Draco closed it and turned the key. He turned back to Bill and sat back down, his fingers tapping out their pattern as he stared at the floor.

"Why didn't you use 'riddikulus'?" asked Bill finally.

"It's not really funny," said Draco. "I haven't found a way yet to make it humorous, besides, I don't really laugh."

"So, how do you get it to go away?"

"Facing your fears is just as good, if not better than, laughing at them," said Draco. "It's the same concept; it just doesn't have a spell to say along with it."

Bill looked slightly intrigued, but then he got serious again. "When you were planning how to rule the world-," he began.

"I was younger," said Draco, cutting him off, wanting to explain so that he didn't look quite so evil. "And it was always just for fun, for entertainment. Then, when I figured out that my plans were actually feasible, I was afraid that I might actually do it and Lord Draco was created and gradually all the people I could kill worked out into this huge plan of his. What he said, about his plan, that's him talking. He explained it to me a few summers back."

"I understand," said Bill, "but that wasn't what I was going to ask."

"Oh," said Draco, surprised. "Then you're not…freaked out about Lord Draco?"

Bill shrugged. "Boggarts represent our deepest fears. The fact that you are afraid of turning out like that makes me believe you will never do something like that. I admit, it's a little unnerving at first, but it doesn't change anything."

Draco stared at him, shocked that he wasn't running away in terror. "Thanks," he said quietly.

"What I was going to ask," said Bill, "was that when you were younger and plotting to take over the world, you weren't afraid of becoming an addict. What happened?"

"Just watching Narcissa, I guess," said Draco, shrugging slightly and lying completely.

"Lord Draco offered you some," said Bill. "Said you've been wanting it since you were thirteen. I know what Angel-Flight is. That's not a drug to mess around with."

Draco hesitated, not knowing if he wanted to reveal something that personal with the Professor.

"My Boggart is Ginny dead," said Bill. "When she was born, my mum was pretty sick, and so I took care of her. I feel responsible for her, always have, always will."

"Explains why you flip when people talk about her," said Draco, remembering the row they had a few weeks back.

"Yeah," said Bill, flushing slightly.

"Just because you tell something personal doesn't mean I have to as well," said Draco.

"I'm not saying it does," said Bill. "I just felt you should know that I trust you with that."

Draco silently sighed, but explained. "I was thirteen," he said. "Narcissa was having some men over for a party, but because it was summer, I was home. Usually she would just lock me in my suite and I would hang out there, but she recently found out that I knew how to escape from my rooms. So, one night at dinner she put a vial of Angel-Flight in my juice. I got hooked and spent the next eight days high on premium-aged Flight. So high I couldn't even move."

"Shit," said Bill.

Draco smirked at that. "Pretty much," he said. "Lucius came home on the ninth day and found me like that. He pulled me off it, spent the next weeks getting me through rehab by himself. I was pretty messed up, screaming and cursing. He had to tie me down for a bit because I was attacking him and trying to get out, to get more. It took two weeks until I was finally aware of what was going on and back in control of my body. It took another week until I could eat by myself, another two until I could walk unaided. Two weeks later and I was self-sufficient again, but he stayed until the end of summer, but I still had cravings that year, even now sometimes. Supposedly that sort of drug can cause migraines and insomnia if the user is still a child."

"Is that why-?" asked Bill.

Draco shrugged. "Don't know," he said.

"I suppose you don't want me to say you have my sympathy about that, do you?" asked Bill.

Draco shook his head.

"Well, then, you have my deepest respect," said Bill, "for turning out as well as you did."

Draco looked up at that, not expecting that kind of response. Bill was smiling slightly.

"And," Bill continued, "although I will never like your father, he did a good thing helping you and while I still wish you had a better parental figure, I promise not to say anything degrading about him again."

Draco smiled at that. "Thank you," he said, sincerely.

"No problem," said Bill. "Now go to bed. It's getting late."

"It's not late," said Draco, but he pushed himself off the table and to the door. "Good night, Bill."

"Night, Draco," said the Professor and Draco left the room.

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Bill didn't move from the classroom after Draco left, still trying to process everything that had happened. He discovered that Draco had a Boggart that he liked to talk to; a Boggart that was apparently a druggie but also trying for ruling the world, and that Lucius Malfoy wasn't the worst of fathers in the world.

That one was even more shocking than the Boggart. Bill tried to imagine the cold-blooded murderer holding a thirteen year old Draco and caring for him, helping him to eat and walk again. He shook his head after a while to clear it. He got a headache just thinking about it. No wonder the subject of Lucius was such an issue with Draco; he had most likely seen both sides of his father and was trying to reconcile them, something that Bill didn't think could be done.

The Boggart thumped a bit in the trunk and Bill glanced at it. The fact that Draco feared his power more than he desired to use it spoke volumes about his character, and not for the first time, Bill wondered what the other teachers would say if they knew this other side of Draco. They loved to tell horror stories about the blond, and discuss what they would do if they were put in charge of him, but Bill had a feeling that all Draco really needed was to get out on his own, away from all of the reasons that would make him turn out like Lucius, and someone to talk to.

He let his mind drift for a bit, but then there was a sharp pain on his arm. Voldemort was calling.

Bill was running out the dungeon door in two minutes time, the invisibility cloak over his body. He wondered why Voldemort hadn't called the Death Eaters yesterday, when Stevick's attack failed. Voldemort would have no doubt felt the destruction of the Horcrux.

He met Snape outside the wards and the two Apparated together, back into the clearing that Voldemort seemed so fond of. A figure was conversing with Voldemort, or rather Voldemort was glaring and the figure was cringing, though Bill could not tell what they were saying. Snape joined the other Death Eaters who maintained a respectful distance away, but Bill crept closer, not worrying about a shadow because it was dusk outside and too dark to see a shadow.

"I will not fail you again," the figure promised, bowing.

Bill inwardly cursed. Their conversation was obviously over and from the looks of it, the conversation had been important because Voldemort had called this person for a private meeting.

"For your sake," said Voldemort, "I hope you do not. Now go join the others."

The figure bowed again, and Bill noticed the smear of blood on the white mask, and decided if would be best if he could figure out who the mysterious Death Eater was for a hint to what the conversation was about. He took his position on the outskirts of the group, listening in carefully.

"Severus!" the Dark Lord commanded. "Come forward and tell me why my attack at Hogwarts failed."

Bill watched as the Potions Master fearlessly broke from the group of Death Eaters and walked forward, bowing low and kissing the hem of Voldemort's robe.

"Milord," he said, his voice a blend of humility and hurt. "If I had known of your plan, it would have succeeded."

"Crucio!" said Voldemort, his red eyes glowing with anger.

Snape fell the rest of the way to the ground from his kneeling position, writhing and convulsing slightly though no noise escaped his lips save a slight grunt. The curse ended and he slowly pulled himself back to his kneeling position.

"I did not tell you of my plan for a reason, Severus," said Voldemort. "So that you would not tell Dumbledore, but it seems that he was expecting an attack. Explain that."

"He did not know of the attack," said Severus. "The wards were not fully dropped which is why not all of the creatures were unleashed."

"You lie!" hissed Voldemort.

"No," said Snape. "I would not lie to you. You are my lord and I am your servant. I have proved my loyalty to you time and time again. I serve you, Master. You know this."

Bill wondered how Snape could do it. The idea of professing such words to Voldemort made him gag.

Voldemort bent slightly, pulling off Severus' mask and tipping his chin up to stare him deeply in the eyes, obviously performing Legilimency on the spy. Bill had been taught Occlumency by the Potions Master and he knew how strong Snape's mind was, but to actually look Voldemort in the eye and lie was nothing short of astounding.

Apparently satisfied Voldemort stepped back and Severus pitched forward, catching himself on his hands, making no move to rise but gasping for breath and struggling to compose himself.

Voldemort turned to several other Death Eaters and was just about to say something when all of a sudden a burning Dark Mark shot into the sky from the middle of the woods. That was the warning signal that the Aurors had arrived.

Voldemort disappeared with the sound of a gun shot and a Death Eater stepped forward.

"Cover the tracks!" he ordered, and Bill recognized the voice of Lucius Malfoy.

The Death Eaters scrambled to obey, casting anti-tracking spells and other charms to cover up any magical signatures, and that's when it happened.

Bill was hovering on the outskirts of the clearing, well away from any of the scurrying Death Eaters, but not enough out of the way as a Death Eater tripped on a root and went sprawling straight into his invisible form. Bill's wand was jarred out of his hand, hitting the ground and rolling out from underneath the cloak.

The Death Eater fell backwards, staring up in his direction and then at the wand on the grass.

Bill's heart gave a jump and before consciously thinking about it, he was in action, running for his wand and scooping it up while the Death Eater behind him let loose a yell.

"There's a spy! He has an invisibility cloak!"

Shit, Bill thought as he ran for the woods, only to have his way cut off by a barrage of spells cast in his general direction.

"Accio invisibility cloak!" thundered a voice above all the others. That was Lucius Malfoy and he cursed the man for being so smart, even as he grabbed onto the material as it began to slide off of him, muttering his own counter-charm.

He was so wrapped up in the spell that he ran straight into another Death Eater and they both went tumbling to the ground.

No doubt he would have been discovered at that moment, but then the Aurors finally broke through the trees and immediately the Death Eaters' attention was focused on the charging, highly trained wizards. Bill rolled over, only to find the Death Eater he had knocked into right beside him, and his dragon-scale boots were uncovered by the cloak. The Death Eater stared at the boots for a second and then started for his wand. Bill Apparated back to the forest outside of Hogwarts, but not before he noticed the blood on the Death Eater's mask. It was the Death Eater Voldemort had been talking to.

He walked back into the castle, pulling off the invisibility cloak when he reached Dumbledore's office. The gargoyle moved without him even having to say the password; Dumbledore had no doubt seen him coming. He entered the office without even a nod to the Headmaster and sat down in one of the armchairs, feeling suddenly weary.

"What happened?" asked Dumbledore.

"I'm discovered," said Bill. "No one saw my face, but they know there was a spy in their midst." He related the events while Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully.

"I knew that Stevick had been interrogated," said Dumbledore when he was finished, "but I did not know that the Aurors had found anything to let them know where the meeting was going to be. Tom's followers do not know the name of the location they are Apparating to; they only know what it looks like. Nothing more, nothing less."

"I'm glad they did," said Bill. "I honestly think I would have been dead otherwise."

"I'm glad they were there too, my boy," said Dumbledore.

The door opened and Snape came in, slightly disheveled from the fight, and rather pale still from the 'crucio'.

"Are you well?" he asked Bill curtly.

"Fine," said Bill, nodding.

"You will not be going back anymore." It was both a statement and a question.

"No," Bill affirmed. "I'm done."

Severus gave a slight nod, accepting the cup of strong tea from the Headmaster and sitting gracefully in the chair next to Bill. It was not a grace like Draco was graceful, thought Bill idly, accepting his own mug of tea from Dumbledore. Snape was like a panther stalking his prey with a measured, intimidating motion. Draco was more like water, completely unassuming in the fluidity of his motions so that many times people hardly even noticed how elegantly he moved.

"We'll undo the ritual and give back the bit of mark to Severus," said Dumbledore, sitting back down at his desk. "I still have some potion left, that's all it should take."

Bill hesitated. "Doesn't it help the pain when I have a bit of it?" he asked the Potions Master.

"Of course it does," said Snape irritably. "Only when Voldemort starts calling all of us in and starts examining our marks more thoroughly, I think that extra bit of pain might save me a bunch more."

"Do you really think he would be able to tell?" asked Bill.

Snape made a slight face of disgust. "I wouldn't put it past him," he said.

"It's settled then," said Dumbledore. "I'll go get the potion, and you, Bill, will be officially retired from spy work."

It was a nice feeling, Bill decided some hours later as he settled into bed, to be completely done with flirting with death every time Voldemort called. He looked down at his left arm. The skin was smudged slightly with black, as if a little bit of the evilness had managed to mark him too. Dumbledore promised that the faint stain would go away with time and if it didn't, a tattoo-removing potion would get it off easily.

He blew out the candle beside his bed and drifted off.

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In the next chapter, someone gets captured by Voldemort! Please review if you're excited!