Disclaimer: Draco Malfoy, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Ginny Weasley, etc. are property of J.K. Rowling. This is an unauthorized fiction. I am not receiving money for this fiction. Some things mentioned (Department of Mysteries, Unspeakables, etc.) are part of a Harry Potter fanon not created by me. Unfortunately, I'm not sure where this stuff actually originated, so I can't accord credit... Just rest assured that it wasn't my feverish brain that came up with it!

DIFFICULT CIRCUMSTANCES

          "Moody... Moody...?"

          "Argh..."

          "Are you alright?"

          "Blast it, Black! They're gone, aren't they? Help me up!"

          "Ow! Your wooden leg got my foot! What happened here? Where's Malfoy?"

          "See that?"

          "Holy Mother! There's a goddamn hole in the floor! How did...? Damn Malfoy! How did he do it?"

          "Not by himself, I can assure you. What time is it?"

          "Almost morning – "

          "Call the Ministry immediately! We need search parties, on the double!"

          "Wait a minute - "

          "I want Croaker, Bode, the Guild, the Unspeakables, Fudge, anyone who has any power around here! They must be stopped!"

          "Hold it just one minute! I'm in command of this base, and I give the orders. Now... who are 'they'? What happened? How did Malfoy escape?"

          "The bloody werewolf helped him!"

          "No..."

          "He came in here with a Realiscryber – heaven knows where he got it! – and charmed an escape route for himself and his Deatheater friend!"

          "That's impossible! Remus would never - !"

          "Oh, wouldn't he? I saw it with my own eyes! You want to put a Veritas on me to prove it? Ha! The Ministry and their tolerance standards! I knew all along we shouldn't have let a Dark Creature among us! They're black as pitch, every one of them. Can't help it, but they still can't be trusted."

          "Remus is not a Dark Creature!"

          "He's a werewolf, therefore by definition a Dark Creature! And he just broke a Deatheater out of prison! That's a criminal act amounting to treachery of the highest degree, and you know it damn well. Not to mention that our chances of finding the Weasley girl now are about as good as Malfoy's chances when I catch up with him. It's downright murder. Listen, Black... I know he was your friend. But take it as a lesson – CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

          "I don't believe it... I just don't believe it..."

          "You'd better believe it! Blast, my wand's gone... they must have taken it."

          "No, I'm telling you there's another answer. This can't be what it looks like."

          "Another answer? What? Malfoy, without a wand, somehow managed to cast an Imperius curse strong enough to knock out a fully-trained Auror, came up with something as clever as a Realiscryber to get out of here, and left us all blinking in the dust? Sorry, but that doesn't sound too credible to me."

          "That's not what I meant...You don't know Remus like I do. He's got some plan that he didn't tell us about. Did he say anything that might help us? Anything unusual?"

          "Come to think of it... he sent me off with a message for you. It was only an excuse to get me out of the room, though."

          "A message? What was it?"

          "Something like... let's see... 'we can condone any action of it protects the innocent.' Tell you anything?"

          "Damn. The bloody courageous fool... "

          "What?"

          "He's gone after Ginny."

          *******

          Draco was dreaming quite lucidly of the moon. It was the full moon, huge and bright, staring down at him like an eye, guiding him through a maze of towering ruins. The shadows of the looming stones were stark and deep around him. His own shadow stretched out behind, huge and black, dogging his steps. But he didn't look back. There was a path of moonlight under his feet, and he kept his eyes fixed on the pale, wavering trail. If he followed it long enough he would come to... somewhere. He didn't know where, but he was quite sure that the place was better than any he had been to before.

          He turned a corner, and the moonlight split into two paths, one leading left, one right. He hesitated, uncertain which to take. Did it matter? Were they the same? Or was one a trick, leading him back into the depths of the maze and the endless shadows?

          As he stood indecisive, the light began to change. It grew, doubling in brightness and melting into a shining gold colour. Twin trails of gold lay before him, shimmering and sparkling like ephemeral dust. He looked up at the sky. There were two moons now, like bright lamps, or golden eyes staring down at him. They watched him inquiringly.

          He could hear a voice... someone was asking him a question.

          "Draco...?"

          The voice sounded familiar. But that couldn't be... the tone was friendly, concerned. No one ever spoke to him like that. What strange dreams may come, he mused, when one mixes magic carelessly. At least this dream wasn't as bad as his usually tended to be. Even as this thought crossed his mind, the golden eyes began to dim. The barren walls receded into dusk, and a grey light leaked into his mind.

          "Draco! Wake up!"

          Draco opened his eyes and blinked dazedly into Lupin's worried face. "Hello?" was the first word that came to his lips.

          Lupin grinned. "Hello," he said, "We're out!"

          Draco sat up with a start. Instead of the sterile interrogation room he had expected, he found himself sitting in the forest somewhere in the countryside. It was morning; the sun was just beginning to rise, filtering pale light through the tree branches. A tall oak raised its limbs high above his head, eliciting the sweet scents of late spring. Acorns lay strewn on the forest floor along with last year's foliage.  Lupin crouched at his side, watching him silently. The former teacher wore, oddly enough, a pair of flannels and a grey Cadbury's sweatshirt.

          "What the hell?" Draco asked as politely as he could.

          "You and Moody knocked each other out. Nice Riddikulus, spell, by the way, I had no idea you were paying attention third year... the smile on Moody's unconscious face was almost sweet. I'm glad you didn't chose Avada Kedavra." There was a note in Lupin's voice that clearly said 'I knew you were better than that.' "Luckily I had essentially finished the trapdoor. I had a time, though, getting it open with my teeth. Had to drag you out of there physically, since I couldn't perform the Enervate spell. At least being a werewolf came in handy for once – I managed to carry you quite far from the base. Although I'm still not really sure where we are..." He looked around at the forest fondly, "Nice place though, isn't it?"

          "Actually, that's not what I meant," Draco said, "What's with the chocolate shirt?"

          Lupin glanced down at his sweatshirt. "I had to Summon some clothing from the nearest Muggle village," he said, "What, you don't like Cadbury's?"

          Draco didn't answer. As the morning birds began to chirp and twitter, a sudden feeling of intense euphoria came over him. He was out! He had escaped! He had slipped away from the Ministry and Voldemort! He was free... he could go wherever he wanted. There were no strings tying him down, no family or friends to hold him back. The world was huge, and it was just waiting for him to go and lose himself in it. There were places even Voldemort couldn't reach, far, far away on the other side of the planet. He felt as light as air, as if he could go dancing and flitting zephyr-like through the heavens. He would ditch Lupin... make his way to the nearest village... get his hands on a wand somehow... break into one of the Malfoys' secret stashes of money...

          "Don't even think about it," Lupin commanded quietly.

          Draco found himself staring at the blunt end of the other man's wand.

          "Think about what?" he asked in perfectly feigned innocence.

          "Leaving," Lupin replied with equally perfect confidence.

          Draco scowled, his mood evaporating rapidly. "Why not?" he hissed, "That was our deal. I tell you where the Weasley wench is, you get me out. Good, done. Now we part ways."

          "Not yet. I need to know some things first."

          "Why should I tell you anything more?" Draco sneered.

          "For starters, because I have a wand and you don't. Besides that, you don't really want to leave yet."

          "I damn well do. How would you know?"

          Lupin shrugged and smiled passively. "You talk in your sleep," he said simply.

          Draco could feel the blood draining out of his face. "What did I say?" he asked. His voice came out sounding embarrassingly hoarse.

          "'Why should I tell you anything more?'" Lupin mimicked Draco's haughty tone.

          "What, picking up my habits?" Draco asked with a good-natured smirk, "Aren't you supposed to be the moral, kind, compassionate one here? One sarcastic, spiteful, evil Deatheater is enough, don't you think?"

          "I don't believe there are any evil Deatheaters in the area at the moment," Lupin said quite seriously.

          Somehow this comment made Draco angry. What did Lupin know anyway? He didn't have a clue what it meant to be evil, or what it meant to be a Deatheater. And he didn't have the first idea what Draco was. In fact, Draco couldn't quite understand why Lupin wanted to know him, why the man wanted to assure him he wasn't evil. What level of nosiness drove Lupin to these lengths? He didn't like it. It made him feel... exposed. Young. Weak. Ignorant. All of which he was determined to hide.

          "So," he said coolly, folding his arms, "What do you want?"

          "I need to know some things about Azkaban," Lupin said, examining his fingernails nonchalantly.

          "Why?" Draco lifted his eyebrows, "Don't they have the whole placed mapped out at the Ministry? Shouldn't there be teams ready for instant action?"

          "I don't need this information for the Ministry," Lupin replied calmly, "I need it for myself."

          "You don't..." Draco trailed off. A dark suspicion stirred in his mind. Lupin was, obviously, stark roaring mad. No wonder the man had helped him escape. He was a loony, irredeemably, hopelessly, chronically insane. That was the only explanation. "You're going to go after Weasley," Draco said in disbelief, "You. By yourself. Alone."

          Lupin nodded as if it were no big deal. Draco slapped himself on the forehead.

          "I don't understand," he said, "If you want to get yourself killed for the girl, I suppose that's no surprise – typical senseless Gryffindor reaction. But this will lead to, obviously, let's see..." he began counting on his fingers, "your death. Her death. Potter's death. After that, the rest of the world." He threw his hands up into the air. "You won't end up as much of a hero, I can promise you that."

          "I'm not a hero," Lupin agreed grimly, "In fact, I'm a criminal. A fugitive. A traitor, as some will no doubt call me. Suppose I return to the Ministry now and try to tell them everything I've learned. They'll Stun me on sight and disregard anything I might manage to squeak out before the spell hits me as Voldemort's lies. By the time I convinced them of the truth, it would be too late. Leading inevitably to all the results you just listed up so nicely."

          Draco considered this for a minute. "I hadn't thought of that," he admitted, "Pretty tough, eh? Being hunted by your own side for trying to save the world?" He shook his head in amusement. "People these days. They just don't understand loners like us, do they?" He grinned insolently.

          "Not at all," Lupin said agreeably, "You do understand, then, why I need more information about Azkaban?"

          "So you can run foolishly to your own death," Draco nodded pleasantly, "I'll tell you whatever you need to get there."

          "Right. First of all, where are the Time Turners hidden?"

          "On the western beach. The black one. There's a stone shaped like a Dementor's claw. There should be a Time Turner under it. You should set it to year - "

          "I don't need the date," Lupin interrupted, "Which Deatheaters are likely to be present during the spell?"

          "Wait a minute..." Draco said, ignoring the last question, "Why don't you need the year? I told you, Voldemort's HQ is in the distant past, in a Stasis Bubble, for that matter. You have to know the exact date to get there, because it exists in only one second. "

          "Voldemort will have to bring Ginny back to the present to perform the spell anyway," Lupin said, "You don't know much about the Amores Despiso, do you? The threads of magic that bind people to each other are in a state of constant change. They have to match up perfectly, or in other words, be in the appropriate time period in order for the connection to be complete. If Voldemort tries to yank Harry back to the Stone Age or something, he'll end up empty-handed. He'll have to bring the whole operation back to our time, and I plan to catch him there, outside his stronghold. Now, about the Deatheaters?"

          "Right..." Draco muttered distractedly. He wondered vaguely why he was doing something that would end up benefiting Potter. Probably because someone was pointing a wand at him very persuasively. Somehow, though, he didn't mind so much, since the whole thing would end up with Potter and Weasley dead... and Voldemort more powerful than ever. That thought bothered him slightly, but he ignored it. "My mother will be there," he said, "Ever since Black caught Wormtail she's been Voldemort's right hand. I'm sure she'll be in this somehow... Probably the Lestranges too. They're so fanatically loyal he trusts them with almost anything. Some others... I don't know how many he needs for the spell."

          "Seven," Lupin said somewhat absently, "there must be seven wizards or witches to manage the spell."

          "Lovely," Draco enthused brightly, "It'll be you versus Voldemort, at least seven Deatheaters, and a butt-load of Dementors. I'm green with envy."

          "I can hardly wait either," Lupin said, straight-faced, "One more question."

          "What? Hurry up before I fall asleep again from boredom..."

          "Where are you going to go?"

          Draco blinked. "What do you care?" he asked with reflexive suspicion. Lupin only looked at him steadily until he dropped his eyes, feeling faintly embarrassed and even angrier for letting himself be flustered so easily. "I don't know," he mumbled, "Far away. Why?"

          "Just curious," Lupin said, amusement tingeing his voice, "Maybe we'll meet again sometime."

          "Not if I can help it," Draco retorted as nastily as he could.

          As usual, his best efforts at sarcasm had no effect whatsoever on Lupin. The werewolf looked thoughtful, tapping his chin gently with his wind. His brown eyes were fixed on a green acorn lying obliviously between them.

          "There's something I've been meaning to say," he remarked softly, as if to himself. A moment of silence followed.

          "What?" Draco asked finally, unable to repress his curiosity.

          Lupin looked up at him, soft brown eyes seeming to shine faintly. "You know, I don't see things like other people do. It's inevitable, I suppose... living a strange double existence like this, one experiences life differently. Everyone believes, of course, that you are unsalvageable, a young soul tragically lost to the Dark Powers. Hateful, nonetheless. Despicable, rather, black-hearted, cruel, ruthless, pitiless, and yes, evil. Your actions point to that conclusion quite clearly. I could never quite believe it myself."

          Draco's mouth was dry as a desert, and he could feel his face burning with a similar heat. He didn't want to hear this. He didn't want pity and understanding – they would only complicate things for him from here on. He had an urge to cover his ears, but his hands refused to move from where they gripped his knees tensely.

          "I didn't believe it," Lupin continued, "And I don't now. For all your show of bloodthirstiness and your merciless tongue, you're just a kid like any other, in more difficult circumstances than most, doing the best he can. I have to admit, I've grown rather fond of you."

          Draco felt numbed by white shock. Kid? Rather fond? He was quite sure he had never heard those words referring to him before. He wouldn't even say he was fond of himself.

          "In fact, I..." Lupin trailed off softly.

          They stared at each other for a moment, wide-eyed with realization.

          Then a bolt of colossal power touched Draco, and everything disappeared.

          Lupin gazed uncertainly at the spot where Draco had just been, hands gripping his wand tightly. In front of him floated a human-shaped cloud of jet-black dust. It collapsed rapidly, scattering and thinning through the spring air, an unpleasant shadow melting away under the sun.

          Feverishly, he recalled an old textbook he had read in Advanced Charms. What had it said about the Amores Despiso spell?

          When the spell is used to summon a lost person, a residue of magic remains in the place the body occupied for approximately 2.4 seconds after disappearance. If the relationship is one of love or affection, the residue takes the form of a golden mist. If the relationship is unfavourable, a puff of black dust remains instead.

          It had been something like that, he was sure. And if his guess was right, the circumstances had taken an odd turn.

          The spell had been meant to call Harry! What had gone wrong? Had Voldemort made a mistake? Or was he planning revenge on Draco? Or... Draco had said his mother would probably be one of the Deatheaters performing the spell. Had Narcissa Malfoy taken a hand in the game? Was it purposeful, or mere accident? And hadn't Draco told him on the first day that he had a week to find Ginny? Accordingly, there should be at least two days left... or had Voldemort changed his plans? When Draco had gone missing, had the Dark Lord suspected his strayed disciple might reveal the plot? He wondered why he hadn't considered the possibility before.   

          In any case, Draco was now doubtlessly in the hands of the Deatheaters. Whom he had essentially betrayed. Voldemort's followers were hardly known for their forgiving natures.

          Worse, if the spell was already in motion, that meant Voldemort could be summoning Harry to Azkaban that very moment. Harry could already be there, for all Lupin knew. And Ginny...

          Lupin stood up decidedly and patted his pocket to make sure the second wand was still there. He would need it for what he had in mind. He gave his own wand a light swish and flick and called one word.

          "Apparatus!"

A/N: Gasp! What was Lupin going to tell Draco? Why did the spell call Draco? What can Lupin do with two wands? Chapter 6: Azkaban gets very crowded, Ginny is surprisingly popular, Voldemort feels the need to chastise a Deatheater, Ginny and Draco are in an uncomfortable situation, and Lupin shows his stuff.