Disclaimer in Part 1.
Chaos and fear are snaking their choking tendrils into the very heart of the wizarding world. They must be curbed quickly, before we all suffocate in this encroaching darkness.
Well, thought Hermione dully, that's certainly a very eloquent way of putting it.
She looked around at the other people pushed together in the crowded room, their faces illuminated by the glow of candles as they gazed upward at the stern-faced, middle-aged witch standing on the platform in the center, her low, commanding voice holding them all in thrall. Morgan Derlian had once been one of the best Aurors in the world, ruthlessly hunting down dark wizards so that they could be brought to justice until one encounter had left her with her vision gone and unable to pursue her foes as she once had, much to her fury. She had refused to go into a quiet retirement the way that so many Aurors did, instead remaining with the Ministry as an advisor, rapidly gaining respect for her wisdom and almost supernatural ability to predict the movements of dark arts supporters, born out of her many years in the field. She had always been in the innermost circle of Ministry officials, advising them in virtually every conflict, trusted beyond any other - until, of course, the Ministry had gone mad.
Which led back to the question floating through everyone's mind - why was the very institution meant to protect witches and wizards suddenly and inexplicably all but abandoning the never ending fight against evil?
They weren't under any kind of spell - those who had joined the underground rebellion' that opposed the Ministry's changes in priority had done endless subtle, sly tests to determine that. There was nothing wrong with the officials; they were all perfectly normal except for the fact that they'd suddenly turned a blind eye on the stirrings of dark powers due to a sudden, overpowering urge to focus on international relations - an urge that had likewise seized all of the foreign leaders, like some kind of virus. It didn't make any sense, there was something out-of-place with the whole situation, leaving everyone troubled and very, very confused.
...two of our Aurors have managed to locate what seems to be an organized massing of dark creatures in Rumania, in the Carpathian Mountains.
Hermione wrenched her thoughts back to the here-and-now, to where Morgan was still speaking.
It would appear that they are under the command of the Dark Lord and are only waiting for the most opportune moment to strike. Which, given our current situation, could indeed be at any time.
Hermione and Ron exchanged worried glances. If dark forces were to attack now, with the wizarding government in such a weak, unprepared position they would encounter virtually no resistance and be able to slaughter them like wolves in a sheep's pasture. Once again they were both hit with the unshakable feeling that the strangeness in the Ministry was directly connected with the movements of the dark side - but how, when they weren't being influenced in any way? It was like there was some missing piece of a puzzle to it all, something that would make everything fit if they only knew what it was -
...a small group of us will be relocating to Rumania, the easier to keep watch on their activities. Those going will be myself, Mara Young, Lauren Rhys, Jon Inred, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley. The rest of you are to stay here and try your best to do something within the Ministry....Paul Joneston will be in charge in my absence. Those who are going, be ready to leave within the hour.
The crowd of people began to shift toward the doors, talking softly and seriously, their faces grim and tense in the soft light. Hermione and Ron were the last to leave, their hands reaching across the distance between them to clasp, a note of comfort in a rapidly darkening world.
* * *
Draco slammed the door shut, his silver eyes flashing dangerously in his tense face, every muscle in his body tensed so that he looked like a predator ready to pounce. Harry looked up quickly at the disturbance, sensing a storm about to break and mentally bracing himself. He didn't have long to wait.
They know. His voice was tight with stress.
Harry stood up and moved so that he was alongside Draco, close enough to touch but not making any move to do so. He could feel Draco's agitation rolling off of him in waves, giving the air around him a charged atmosphere and making the hair on the back of Harry's neck stand on end. He felt he would scream from the tension.
Who knows what?
The ones who broke from the Ministry - who somehow have the wit to realize that something is obviously wrong. They've gotten themselves organized, apparently they've got Aurors out scouting who've managed to find the army; if they're already in the Carpathians it won't take them long to find us -
Harry cut him off. How do you know all this?
The Arnelin. I saw their thoughts. Draco suddenly slumped forward, his hands gripping the table edge so hard that his knuckles were white. And some of them are coming here, to this area-
So? Drachkan is warded. And we could always use the Arnelin-
But Draco was shaking his head and Harry suddenly noticed that he looked sick, had in fact looked sick for about a month, ever since he'd started using that bloody Arnelin. He had always been thin, but now he was dangerously so, his robes hanging loosely off his almost skeletal frame and dark blue shadows outlined his enormous eyes; it looked like he was wasting away. Harry felt a pang of ill ease, wondering why he'd never noticed this before and then remembering that Draco could very easily have diverted Harry's attention elsewhere so he wouldn't see how sickly he'd become. He had that kind of power. Harry grasped the other's bony shoulder, fighting his rising panic.
Draco. What. Is. Wrong. With. You. It was not a question, it was a demand for information.
Draco smiled, a twisted, bitter smile that looked more like a grimace of pain. If you would use the Arnelin, you must pay a price. It drains your life force to feed itself, the life of humans is where it gets all of it's power from. At first if can only drain you when you're actually using it, but then it can even when you're not, and by now it has that hold on me. It's draining me, Harry, bit by bit...
Harry was staring at him, stunned. No. Draco was not dying. That could not happen; it would kill him, too. No.
And then he knew what he had to do.
He grabbed Draco's wrist and before the pale boy could do anything about it he pointed his wand at him and yelled, Draco crumpled immediately, Harry catching him in his arms and tucking him into an armchair before rushing off to the dungeons where he knew Draco worked most of his magic.
It didn't take long to find the bloody thing, it was shining in his mind like a beacon, probably because of his connection with Draco. As he held the silvery orb in his palms he noticed angrily that it was glowing brighter than ever and giving off a gentle warmth. No doubt supplied by Draco's life force. Well, that was going to have to end. Right now.
He wasn't sure if it would work, but he never stopped to think. Pointing his wand at the Arnelin, he shoved pure power out through his body, focusing it in his wand and then letting it erupt from his wand tip in a jet of pure magic, a blinding stream of violet light. Nothing could possibly withstand such an onslaught; the orb burst into a million tiny fragments in a flash of silver light, reduced to nothing more than a shower of glittering dust.
Harry allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction before pressing his wand to the tiny dragon on his right wrist and muttering,
They appeared instantly in their customary black cloaks, faces hidden as always. Harry noticed that they seemed somewhat surprised to see him instead of Draco, but - he'd make them obey him. Somehow.
Listen to me. His voice was low and intense, his green eyes blazing. There are enemies coming here - enemies to the Dark Lord and to yourselves. They cannot find him - all of you go, and seek them. Kill them as you find them, leave none alive. He drew himself up, and suddenly he looked commanding and terrible, much the same as Draco did, so that none of them would have dreamed of disobeying him.
Go. Now.
They bowed acceptance of his command and vanished.
Harry took a deep breath in the silence, becoming aware of a presence behind him.
I'm sorry. But you would have tried to stop me, and I refuse to let you die. I refuse to let something take you away from me.
Draco came up behind him and leaned his head on Harry's shoulder. I forgive you.
Harry turned around and kissed him, deeply and passionately. Then drew back to look into those extraordinary silver eyes that had haunted him for so long. I love you.
Draco just smiled. Are you ready?
They Disapparated.
So...are you all as confused as I am???? Probably!!!!!! So here's a run down of the facts so far:
Harry agrees to join Draco on the dark side if Draco gives himself to Harry. Draco agrees. Harry joins him, then steals the Arnelin for Draco. Hermione and Ron figure out that Harry is evil and decide they want nothing more to do with him. Draco uses the Arnelin to divert Ministry attention away from Dark Arts activity, but a group of people, including R&H join an underground movement that opposes that new order of the Ministry and are selected to go to Rumania in an effort to learn more about dark activities. Harry realizes that the Arnelin is killing Draco and destroys it, then sets Dark Wizards on the good guys. More confusion to come in the next chapter!!!
Urgh. This is weird. Please review on your way out!!!