CHAPTER TWO

RETURN TO NUMBER TWELVE

Draco knew fully well that he could not get the better of Dumbledore in a duel. If any other wizard had come for him, he would have attempted escape. He was sure Dumbledore would not allow that to happen.

They left the Malfoy Manor, the Professor leading and Draco trailing slightly behind. Dumbledore had banished his school things somewhere with a wave of his wand.

"I believe, Draco, that you know how to apparate." It was not a question.

"To where?"

Wordlessly, Dumbledore turned and pulled up the left sleeve of Draco's robes. There were old scars there, from when Lucius had lost his temper because Potter had beat him in his first Quidditch match.

But no Dark Mark.

He lowered his eyes, grateful now that Father had not seen fit to let him join the Death Eaters.

The Headmaster of Hogwarts handed Draco Malfoy a worn-looking bit of parchment, with a bit of narrow, loopy handwriting on it.

"Memorize this, but do not repeat any of it out loud," he cautioned.

The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.

* * *

They had apparated in front of a battered, dark house with dark windows. The door knocker was in the form of a serpent that Draco found he rather liked. On either side were muggle houses. He sneered at them in contempt.

Professor Dumbledore took a firm hold on Draco's arm and led him up the stone steps.

The Headmaster pulled out his wand and tapped once on the doorknob. Draco thought he heard numerous metallic clicks and a sound disturbingly like the clinking of rusty chains. Reluctantly, the door creaked open and grudgingly let them inside.

They entered a gloomy looking room with old fashioned gas lamps, which gave off a flickering light.

Draco was led up a long, gloomy hallway. There were countless doors leading off somewhere, but they stuck to the main hall for about five minutes. Draco longed to throw one open, to run in and hide and never have to see Dumbledore again. He managed not to, telling himself he was just being foolish; it was impossible to escape with the Headmaster right next to him.

I just have to wait. Just wait... then I can escape.

They had entered a plain-looking room. On one side was a shelf teeming with books, the other three were ordinary walls.

"Sit down, Draco." Dumbledore indicated to a comfortable bed. Draco, however, thought it seemed too small to be at all suitable. He sat down politely.

"You have heard of the death of your mother," began the Headmaster, seating himself in the armchair he had conjured moments earlier.

Draco leaned forward, hiding his face in his hands so that Dumbledore would not see him cry.

"Yes." His voice caught in his throat. He sneered at himself. This wasn't acceptable.

"She was a remarkable person. I had the good fortune to speak with her before she died." They lapsed into silence for a while. Draco took this time to get his tears under control.

"She asked me to see that you were taken care of."

"She shouldn't have," Draco, muttered, feeling a sudden burst of rage at his dead mother.

"Really?" Dumbledore inquired mildly. "I was under the impression that it was an excellent decision, all things considered."

"Everything was fine! My father is out there. He would have made sure nothing happened to me. I have relatives, friends, house elves, and more money that than I need!"

Dumbledore sighed. "I must tell you that it is very likely Lucius will be caught a second time by the Ministry. In the event that they do, he will be killed.

"Azkaban is no longer safe to keep Dark Wizards in. You must understand that this is the only way we can think of. Fudge has decreed that all Death Eaters are to be executed."

His jaw went slack. Tears ran down his face, and he no longer tried to hide them. "So, why don't you just kill me as well? I'll probably just grow up to be another Death Eater, won't I? But I suppose that's beneath your morals.

"You are an underage wizard, and not a Death Eater. There is still time for you to make up your own mind."

He laughed derisively. His decision was made; had been made since the day he found out what a Death Eater was.

"Fudge was going to have you sent to an orphanage when I consulted him after I left St. Mungo's. I convinced him you were safer here with myself and the Order."

Orphanage. The word echoed inside his head. Suddenly, Draco remembered all the times he had taunted Potter about having no family. Now he himself was in the same position. He felt sick.

"What do you mean, 'safer?'" he asked numbly, not really interested in the answer.

Dumbledore looked surprised (for once, Draco thought cynically.)

"Didn't you know why your mother died? That you were part of the reason?"

"Of course, that's why I'm asking about all of this!" His voice was filled with sarcasm.

Dumbledore chose to ignore it. "Your mother has always hated the Dark Arts. Just over a year ago, she became a problem for Voldemort. That is, she gave me some key information about the Dark Lord's activity.

"Voldemort himself warned her not to do it again, but she did not listen." He paused. "She was poisoned by your father on Voldemort's command."

He screamed.

* * *

Five minutes later, Harry was writing a note to the Dursleys, explaining that Lupin had come to take him somewhere for the rest of the summer.

Not that they care, Harry thought sardonically.

"Ready?" Lupin asked.

"Yeah."

Lupin carried Harry's trunk out the door. The knight Bus was outside waiting for both of them to get on.

"'Ey! Look, Ern! It's 'Arry Potter!" Stan yelled excitedly.

"Shh..." Lupin motioned towards the Dursleys' house.

"Er-right," Stan whispered apologetically.

The trip was not as exciting as his last experience on the Knight Bus had been. There were two stops before the bus lurched to a halt in front of Number Eleven. Lupin put his arm around Harry, grabbed the baggage and dragged them both off.

"Bye, 'Arry!" He waved wearily back to Stan, and the bus disappeared with a loud bang.

Harry didn't need to be told what to do. He thought as hard as he could about Grimmauld place, and it appeared, pushing the other houses aside. When Harry saw it, all the questions that had been forming in his mind dissipated as a wave of sadness washed over him. He was standing in front of his Godfather's house, and Sirius wouldn't be there. Harry felt hot tears stinging his eyes and threatening to spill over.

Lupin, sensing this, led Harry towards it. "Lets go."

As the door opened, Harry heard the portrait of Mrs. Black screeching.

"RATS! MUDBLOODS! BESMIRCHING THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS! BE GONE FROM THIS PLACE, ALL OF YOU!"

"SHUT HER UP!" Lupin yelled. Harry was getting a headache.

By the time Sirius' mother was calmed down, Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were all telling him how wonderful it was that he was here, and how much they had missed him.

Harry was drawn to someone standing in the background, looking hesitantly at him but making no move to get any closer. He shrank back from Mrs. Weasley's hugs, squeezing through everyone to get to them.

"Hullo, Percy."

Percy looked startled, even a bit afraid of Harry. Staring at the ground, he said, "I owe you an apology. I said some things that I probably shouldn't have. I'm sorry. Can you forgive me?"

Harry thought about all the horrible things Percy had said to him, about how he had treated Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. The letter he had sent to Ron upon discovering that he was a prefect. Despite all those things, he knew there could only be one answer.

"Of course."

Vaguely the fact registered that Molly was crying. Though he knew it was for far different reasons than he had been a moment ago, he did not wish to see anyone cry. "I'm... kind of tired. I think I'll go to bed."

"Of course. You must be exhausted! I'll have your things brought up right away," Molly said.

"No... I'll get them later." With that, Harry climbed up the hall before anyone could speak again.

He knew where his room was, but detoured left on impulse and found himself in Sirius's bedroom. It seemed the same as the last time he had seen it, although it was gathering a bit of dust. It looked as if no one could bear to clean it out. For the second time that day, Harry felt like crying.

He sat down on the dusty bed. "Sirius," he said, as if his Godfather could really hear him. He was getting drowsier every minute. Finally, he gave in to sleep.

* * *

Molly Weasley was worried about Harry. He wasn't in the boys' room when she had brought his trunk up, and it had been nearly four hours since he had gone up. If anything had happened to him....

She noticed that Sirius's bedroom door was open, and went to shut it, tears coming to her eyes. The poor man had died right before he was cleared of his charge of betraying the Potters and killing Peter Pettigrew. She wished now that she hadn't been so hard on him at times, but it was too late for that.

Mrs. Weasley sighed in relief as she spotted the figure on Black's old bed. It was Harry. Well, at least she could inform everyone that he was safe, and tell Ron and Hermione to leave him alone.

* * *

"Liar! Liar! I hate you!"

"Draco, you may yell as much as you like after I have finished. I assure you I will stay and listen to all of it if you wish me to."

Draco slowly quieted down, silently vowing that he would pick it back up after the Professor was done.

"Another reason Voldemort killed your mother, had wanted to kill her for years, was that if she were to have any more children, they might have the same extraordinary talents that you possess."

"Talents?" Draco thought he might know what Dumbledore was talking about, but wanted to find out for sure.

The Professor offered Draco a cup of tea that had appeared in his hand moments ago. He took a sip without thinking.

"Tell me, Mister Malfoy, can you do any sort of magic without a wand?"

He had intended to lie, really, but found that he couldn't control his words.

"Yes."

Veritaserum! That conniving old bastard.

"What sort of things?"

"I can become invisible, perform Occlumency and Legilimency."

"Then you have not even begun to access your power." The Headmaster paused, deciding that perhaps he would give Draco a bit more information than he had intended to.

"Voldemort will not allow someone with your kind of power to exist. Loyal to him or not, he wants to destroy everything and everyone more powerful than he is. Death Eaters will be looking for you. Whether or not you accept it, you will never be a one yourself.

"So, you have two choices. You may either join us and be instructed in the use of your power, or you can die at the hands of Voldemort." After a moment of thought, he added, "I expect the Veritaserum will have worn off by now."

Draco was so angry, he wanted to kill Dumbledore. Kill him, and leave his body for his followers to find. Then they would know how foolish they had been to follow a crazy old man to their deaths. He stared at the ground, knowing how stupid such a thing was. He didn't have that kind of power.

"You do. You just don't know how to use it yet."

Draco stared at Dumbledore. "I'll join you," he said suddenly.

The Headmaster of Hogwarts smiled sadly. "No lies." Then he left Draco to yell and scream alone.

* * *

Harry awoke covered in sweat, his scar burning. Another nightmare. He was regretting not listening more closely to Snape's Occlumency lessons; he should've tried harder to do what had been asked of him. This year, hopefully, Dumbledore himself would continue them.

Sleep was not longer an option. Harry already knew what his dreams would be like, and he was not eager to return to them. He found himself feeling alone. There was no one, not Hermione, not Lupin, or even Ron, that he felt close enough to, to talk to right now. He had lost his Godfather because of his own stupidity. The person that he felt could have made him feel better, and the person that was the cause of his sadness. He laughed.

That's definately ironic.

Harry shuddered, and pulled himself up off of Sirius' bed. He slipped quietly out the door. As long as he was awake, he might as well leave the place people dreamed.

Those horrible dreams.

He had intended to go to the kitchens- where else?

I'm not hungry.

Instead he wandered through the halls, passing rooms in which he knew members of the Order were sleeping.

Once he felt that he was safely past the bedrooms, Harry began to open doors. The first room was large, and contained hundreds of mirrors of all shapes and sizes. They even covered the ceiling and parts of the floor. It was eerie to see yourself staring back at you wherever you were, and even eerier because Harry swore that out of the corner of his eye, he could see faces besides his own in the glass. Whenever he tried to get a closer look, of course, nothing was there.

Harry was ready to leave after a minute or so, feeling rather shaky. He hesitated, but grabbed a small hand mirror and put it in the pocket of his robes. Harry turned to the door across the hall.

The wall on his side of the room was covered in books from ceiling to floor. Opposite him, it was blank and white. Sitting on a bed large enough for two people and wearing an expression of utmost loathing was Draco Malfoy.

"Come to have a nice gloat, Potter?" he sneered sulkily.

Harry was so shocked that he forgot to reply with an insult. "I didn't know anyone was in here," he said truthfully.

"Ah, just wandering around from room to room. It doesn't surprise me, Potter. You always had to stick your nose where it doesn't belong. And what about the famous invisibility cloak? You need that, to be safe. Can't let Voldemort catch you!"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

How does he know about my cloak? he can't know.

"I'm not stupid, Potter," Draco sneered. "Remember our third year? I know exactly what I saw at the Shrieking Shack. You're out at night all the time in that stupid thing."

"You're just jealous," Harry shot back.

"Jealous?" Draco smirked. "I don't need an invisibility cloak. Comes in handy though, doesn't it?" A bitter look crossed his face. "Unfortunately, it can't always save you."

Harry was growing increasingly confused, and didn't see where this conversation could be leading.

"Why do you care if I have it or not? If you're trying to say that Voldemort is going to pop in here and grab me, you're wrong. I'm perfectly safe."

Draco laughed hoarsely. "You think you're safe here? With all you've been through, I assumed you would have learned something by now. You're never safe. I thought I was. That's the reason I'm here now. No matter where you are, there's always a chance, however, small, that you'll be captured by the enemy."

Harry glared at Malfoy in silence, which seemed to make him realize who he was talking to.

"Go away, Potter," he snarled. "I don't want you here."

Harry turned to leave.

"Potter?"

"What, Malfoy?" Harry asked, his hand on the doorknob.

"Promise," there was a pleading edge to his voice, "that you won't tell Weasley or Granger I'm here."

"Why? Why should I promise you anything when all you've ever done was torment my friends and I? You're my enemy, Malfoy. Why should I promise you something that will only make Ron and Hermione feel hurt when they find out?"

His gray eyes seemed to stare right into Harry's soul. "Because... you feel like no one understands how you feel. You feel like it was your fault. I offered to be your friend once, and I still could be. If you let me.

"I saw him die, you know. My mum practically grew up with him; he was her favorite cousin."

Harry was shaking. "I have to go. And... I promise, at least for now."

He left.

* * *

Harry was again wandering the Black house alone at midnight. Again he entered the room of mirrors, struggling to see clearly the others that he knew were there. Always he was looking, looking but never seeing.

After what seemed like hours, Harry felt he was going mad. He knew that he must see something before he could leave, of course. That was the reason he had come here. Where was it? It would tell him what he should do. He had to know; the future depended on it.

Gradually his reflection faded. Moments later it returned, but... it had it's arm around someone else's shoulder.

Draco Malfoy's.

Malfoy was smirking, but Harry thought it had a rueful, well-I-did-this-to-myself edge to it.

Harry felt no horror, only a sudden understanding. It was then that he left, entering the next room without hesitation.

Again Harry exchanged cruel words with Malfoy. For the second time Draco sneered, saying: "Go away, Potter. I don't want you here." The words hurt this time, stinging like a thousand needles being pressed gradually into his skin.

"Don't tell Weasel of Granger...." Malfoy's voice faded away as the room disappeared.

Harry was in a dark, cold room. At first it was unrecognizable, but Harry slowly noticed desks throughout the center of the classroom. Harry himself was sitting on one. Shelves on the walls were filled with numerous pickled things. Harry didn't want to think about what they could be.

He was in Snape's dungeon, waiting. A door crashed open, making him jump out of his skin.

"Jumpy, aren't we?" Draco's normally cruel, sarcastic voice had a note of humor in it, coupled with something else that made him seem human compared to his usual behavior towards Harry. Harry was surprised to find himself smiling. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean. And are you late for class, Draco? Surely the teacher should arrive early...."

When he woke up, he had not memory of his dream.

* * *

Harry awoke with a single thought in his mind: he had to talk to Lupin.

He was almost dressed when Ron woke up, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

"Wha' smatter, 'Arry?" he looked too sleepy to really care. Harry felt a surge of irritation at his best friend. Malfoy showed more concern than that, even if he was faking it.

"It's nothing, Ron. Go back to sleep."

"I haven't seen you in a while, Harry. I'll get up now."

"Take your time." Harry tied his sneakers and steeped out of the bedroom door, being exceptionally quiet so as not to wake anyone. He made his way down to the kitchen.

"Hello, Harry dear. Breakfast isn't quite ready yet, but if you give me about ten minutes, the French Toast will be done."

Harry thanked her politely and asked if he could help, but she refused. "You had a tiring trip last night. There'll be work enough later, I'm sure."

"Is Remus here?" Harry asked.

"He's been out all night, but we're expecting him back any minute..."

"Oh. I'll just wait here, then."

"Was there something you wanted to ask him about?"

"Well, it's just..." Harry didn't have time to finish, because at that very moment Lupin walked in the door."

"There you are, Remus. Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes."

"It smells wonderful, Molly."

He waited until Lupin had seated himself at the table next to Harry, and muttered, "I need to ask you about something."

"All right," Remus said. "Fire away."

"Last night... I couldn't sleep, so I decided to wander around a bit. I opened a door, and- someone was inside." Harry conveniently forgot to mention the fact that he had been in another room first.

"Malfoy," Lupin breathed, looking displeased. "I had hoped you'd never find out that he was there."

"I was just wondering why, that's all." He had the feeling that Lupin wasn't going to tell him.

"I can't tell you that, and I don't want you to go back there, Harry.. It could be dangerous."

"Dangerous?" asked Harry incredulously. "Malfoy isn't what I call dangerous. I've managed to escape Voldemort five times now, what could possibly be worse than that?"

"If Draco was Voldemort, you wouldn't go visiting him, now would you?" Lupin smiled wryly. "You're just going to have to trust me on this."

Harry scowled, "I might, if you would just tell me what it's all about."

"I can't. What I will say, is that you need to be a bit more careful around Malfoy from now on."

I want to than all you WUNNNNDERFUL peoples that reviewed! (HINT TO ALL WHO READ THIS) and I'm sure Hairless would too... *coughlazyonecough* But can you believe that there are over six pages of this in Microsoft Word, and she only write ONE of them????

Thanks to:

Morgoth: must agree with you, person!

dark abaddon: review more of mine, I'll review more of yours!

audig: Yes, Draco is VERY conflicted. I'll straighten him out, though... *laughs evilly*

Someone: Thank you. I DID try my hardest...

Dancer891234567789: Well, I updated! (What is UP with that name?!)