A/N: Hehehe…I can't tell you if anyone dies. Sorry about the bad foreshadowing in chapter eleven, didn't mean to do that to you, and no…I don't think I'm J.K. Rowling…but then again…I'm a schizo and a compulsive liar so you'd never truly know…lol. I won't give any more clues away and I most definitely will quit the summaries…lol. Oh, that reference with Fred, George, and Lee: I said Fred and George closed their joke shop to visit and that Lee had tagged along…maybe that reader missed that detail…Keep reviewing and tell your friends to review… this whole writing thing is making me look better and better. Who knows, I might tell JK (or myself as Hagin refers to me as JK herself) in an email to the official site…BTW…new pov set up…you'll see…
Scipio-Scipio awoke late the next day, body lagging from lack of willingness to care about himself. As far as he was concerned, Dumbledore was as mad as everyone made him up to be. There was no way he could believe his father was behind a veil and that no one could save him. If there was anyone who could save him from behind the veil, it had to be him…or Harry…
He stood and dressed himself in a pair of black slacks and a ginger colored sweater, one of Aunt Narcissa's latest gifts thrown upon him. As he descended down the steps, he heard a snigger from the bottom of the landing, and sure enough, a blond-headed blue-eyed boy was leaning upon the banister carelessly with his arms crossed and a twisted smile of malice upon his smug face. Scipio narrowed his eyes and continued to descend down the steps.
"Have a nice rest?"
"Until I saw your face."
"Why don't we cut the hostility and get to the chase, Scip. That is what Potter, Mudblood, and Weasel call you, right? "
"What are you blabbing about? What chase?"
"I know something that would kill you if I did or didn't tell you today. Something that would change your life forever."
"You're going to die?"
"The sarcasm," Draco said, unfolding his arms "must cease if you wish to know anything about your father."
Scipio felt his mouth go dry and he tried to put a cool look upon his face, but failed miserably.
"What do you mean, you know something about my father that would kill me if I didn't tell you today?"
Draco, realizing he had the upper hand on the situation pointed up to his bedroom and led Scipio up the steps. He opened the door and a blast of icy-coolness ran throughout Scipio's clothes like a dagger. The room was painted black, dark gothic candles floated mid-air and a collection of dark-magical woks by various authors lined the shelves. Draco pointed to a chair and sat upon his bed and immediately picked up a blue stick and began to toy with it. Scipio immediately recognized it as a truth-stick; a tamper-proof stick that glows when an individual tells a truth and grows longer as they tell lies. Draco continued to fondle with the truth-stick as he began to speak.
"So, Scipio, it's Christmas tomorrow…any plans or adventures planned?"
"No-"
" Hmm…that's too bad. Something exciting always happens at Christmas time. Draco passed Scipio a magazine called the "Astronomy Weekly" and continued to toy with his truth-stick.
"What is this for?"
"Nothing…I just find it rather interesting that the first new moon in December happens to fall on Christmas day. You know they say souls are renewed every new moon. They even say that you can bring a person back from the dead exactly six months after their death on a full-moon."
Scipio felt hatred boil in his blood and remained calm as he responded.
"And so you're assuming that I will jump at this notion and-"
"Save your father before it's too late. But of course, you have that thin, yellow blood in your body. You wouldn't risk anything to save the life of someone else…including your father."
Slowly working together what Draco had just told him, Scipio stretched his long arms and put a finger to his mustache growth.
"Even if what you are telling me now is true, I still don't see why you'd want to benefit me under any circumstances. You see Draco," Scipio said giving his cousin an icy glare that penetrated right through Draco's smug façade "there is absolutely no reason I'd trust you to assist me without you putting a knife in my back, a blindfold around my eyes and a drugging potion to make me incapable of my own thoughts."
"Suit yourself. You should know, however that if you change your mind after 9:00, your father will never come back."
Scipio rose to his feet and sent one last icy stare back Draco's way. After closing the door, he felt a hot teardrop rolling down his cheek.
The stick in Draco's hand had glowed.
Harry-Harry sat in his windowsill and stared off into the distance of the never-ending Hogwarts grounds. Students had gone outside for sleigh rides and snow fights and Ron and Hermione had gone off on some date in which Ron had included a round of "snow-snogging."
"I'll tell you what Harry," Ron had whispered that morning at breakfast. "She may be very snappy and prissy, but she's the snogging queen!"
Harry however did not feel in the spirit to snog or be snogged. Instead, his mind was blatantly upon the prophecy he had overheard and Scipio. Feelings of guilt overran Harry: if he had never gone to the Department of Mysteries, Sirius would be safe. Scipio would have a father. Sirius would be untied with the son of the woman he asked to marry…
He was going to the Department of Mysteries once more. Only this time, he wouldn't risk anyone else's life but his own. He was going alone.
And he was going tonight.
A/N: I approximate 3 more chapters. I'm working on them so please be patient. Please tell your friends to review my story…I'm loosing inspiration…but I'll finish anyway.