Disclaimer in Part 1.
Ron sifted through the massive stack of papers on his desk, flicking idly through the crisp parchment sheets covered with the neat, flowing writing that characterized all official Ministry documents, trying to push his pounding headache into the background. But of course that was a losing battle, just looking at boring report after boring report was enough to set it pounding worse than ever...he sighed and pushed a hand through his flaming hair, about to just give up and go seek out some Hegala Helsi's Headache Helpers - Now Uses Twelve Different Charms! when for some inexplicable reason his eyes fell on a half exposed document that looked no different from the rest and yet seemed to demand immediate attention. Rolling his eyes, he succumbed to the strange urge to read it at once and uncovered it completely, his eyes scanning over it. Then he stopped and read it again, more slowly. And again. And again.
What?
Ron stared at the parchment for a moment before folding it up and tucking it into his robes. He needed to find Hermione and now...he hurried from the room, the headache forgotten.
Finding her proved to be a simple enough task. She had stationed herself in the cavernous dining hall, practically buried beneath the mountain of books and papers that seemed to be permanently attached to her, furiously scribbling away at something. He plunked down opposite her. She looked up, pushing her hair away distractedly.
Oh - Ron -
Hermione -, he removed the unprecedented sheet of parchment from his robes and shoved it across the table at her, - have you seen this yet?
She looked at him, concern wafting over her face at the sight of his grim, set expression before unfolding it and reading it through, her lips moving ever-so-slightly with the words, her eyes widening in shock. She put it down slowly and looked over at Ron, a look of confusion and horror plastered on her features, her eyes dismayed.
A single syllable conveying a world of fear and doubt.
The two stared down at the offending message, lying so innocently on the gleaming wooden tabletop:
All activities relating to the regulation of'
Dark Magic usage are to be suspended until
further notice so that the efforts of the Ministry
will be free to focus on other matters which
are of greater importance at this time. All Aurors are
being recalled to London immediately.
There followed the signatures of the Minister of Magic and the individual department heads with the official seal, a phoenix perched on a crescent moon, affixed to the bottom. All nice and perfectly official.
They just - can't - do that, said Hermione faintly. I mean - another reign of terror like You - Know - Who's is practically upon us; they decide to recall the Aurors and suspend the investigaions into the usage of Dark Magic for matters of greater importance'?!? That's just idiotic, complete nonsense...what could possibly be more important?
Ron bit his lip, his eyes clouded as he stared off into the distance. You don't suppose this could have any connection with Harry?
Oh, Ron. Hermione slumped back into her chair, looking utterly and completely dejected. I think it must...
There was a long silence. Then Hermione's voice again, little more than a whisper.
Ron, is he still our friend? Even if he is, well, different, are we justified in going after him like this?
His eyes met hers and within them was a look of such deep sorrow mixed with a fierce anger and cold resolution that she flinched away from them, unable to stand their piercing gaze. She felt a shiver run through her at his words.
He was our friend, Hermione...he was but is no longer. Better to think of him as dead. And he turned on his heel and stalked off.
Hermione sighed tiredly. His words were no more than a verbal confirmation of what she'd known to be true ever since that confrontation brought on by the Verblensvar Potion. That Harry was their friend no longer.
Nor were they his.
* * *
The underground dungeons were plunged into pitch blackness the second Draco shoved the softly glowing Arnelin back into it's pouch but that hardly mattered to him. He knew every inch of the cold stone floor, every dip in the worn stone steps leading up out of the earth, every tiny chink in the mortar that might trip him up. And besides that, he'd almost always had the rather uncanny ability to navigate with absolute ease in total darkness, a throwback to his childhood when he'd spent weeks locked in dungeons very similar to these. During those long imprisonments he'd gradually acquired that extra sense, to be able to move as confidently and smoothly when he could see nothing as when he was surrounded by light, the darkness presented no obstacles to him by now. A rather nice little talent, when all was said and done.
It was lighter in the rest of the castle, the moonlight slanting in through the gothic windows, painting everything a bright, shining sliver. Draco passed through the bars of alternating darkness and light, feeling the soft radiance of the moon caressing his skin like the feel of velvet only to have it abruptly banished as he moved out of it's glow and into the shadows. It was an interesting feeling, that constant rippling sensation, one that, oddly enough, soothed him. Made him feel like he was floating in some dark pool, his mind free of all thoughts, content just to be...
He passed into the large chamber that he and Harry shared making no more noise than a cat, padding quietly over to the edge of the bed where he stood looking down at his partner, feeling the familiar wave of confusion wash over him.
He remembered Harry telling him that one day he, Draco, would give his heart and open his soul to him...Draco found himself biting his lip so hard that it bled at that memory. There was something about giving that much to another human being that scared him, scared him much more than the Dark Forces that he had given his life to master. He was terrified at the thought of a union of such depth, such magnitude, of allowing himself to every become so close to anyone, of opening himself entirely...but he realized that Harry had been right and that it was ultimately inevitable. It had been preordained.
Yes, he'd given himself to Harry as part of a bargain, but he'd realized once it was done that there was some soul-deep connection between them, one that could not be ignored or denied - as if he'd belonged to Harry through all eternity and was only just now allowed to realize it. In some way he could not understand the two of them were one, two halves of a whole and that if they were ever to be ripped apart now that they had been brought together it would bring disaster to both of them. Destroy them, even. It was a bond forged of something beyond any magic either of them knew, a bond that could never be broken...
And that scared him, that he could be bound to someone so deeply, belong to someone so completely.
Harry shifted slightly, his arm outstretched as if searching for something. Searching for him. Wanting to make sure I'm still there, still his...
Draco felt a sudden wave of exhaustion spiral through him, no doubt brought on by his work with the Arnelin. He sighed and crept onto the bed, curling up against Harry's chest and taking what seemed to be an irrational amount of comfort from the steady beat of Harry's heart. Listening to that lulling, rhythmic sound he dropped off into sleep.
Harry just smiled and pulled his Draco even closer. Although he might snap at him, be cold and impersonal as he saw fit, hide behind harsh words and an icy demeanor, Harry knew that he belonged to him in both body and soul. And apparently Draco was starting to figure that out.
* * *
The owl went rushing back up into the night sky, soon little more than a white speck and then fading into nothing. Mireille watched it go, her eyes troubled, before turning back to Peter, who was reading the message with of both disgust and disbelief. She leaned over his arm to see what was written.
Recalled? They can't be serious.
Peter was shaking his head. It's all official, all in order, but...there's just something odd about it. Especially now, when it's vital to have as many Aurors as possible out tracking down those who support this new regime, what with Dark wizards making a comeback in a big sort of way...it doesn't fit...
We could go back, do some investigating? Mireille suggested.
No. I have a strong feeling that we should keep going after Potter, that if we do we could very well find out what brought on this, he waved this message, and then just have two things taken care of...no, we'll go on.
Mireille shrugged. She really had no desire to go back and found herself wondering how many Aurors actually would. The two remounted their broomsticks and pushed off into the sky, flying north.