Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters mentioned
in this story so don't sue me. May contain references to Anne Bishop,
Greek Mythology, Egyptian Mythology, Laurell K. Hamilton, and Anne Rice.
Author's Random Ramblings: Wow, it's been awhile hasn't it? I'm sorry it took so long to post but I've got more bad news. My chapters are getting longer and, right now, they are taking a little under two weeks to write each one and a little longer than that to get it betaed so start expecting me to post every other week from now on. I don't know how long that's going to last but I think you'll be seeing this trend till Chapter 9. I can't say anything right now about Chapter 10 because I haven't written it yet. On a happier note, I think you'll be seeing more action and fighting (finally!) in this story from now on!
Chapter 7
Neither Ron nor Hermione spoke much to Harry the following morning, of which Harry was very grateful since he was still trying to think of a way to remedy the situation. Glancing over at the Slytherin table, Harry was a little worried when he noticed that Draco was missing. Turning back to his toast, he tried to shrug it off. He would see Draco soon enough in Herbology.
Harry managed to stifle his scream of frustration when he realized that Draco wasn't going to show up for Herbology either. Where could he be? Harry shook his head, trying to shake off the edge of anxiety that had crept into the back of his mind and pay attention to Professor Sprout. They were going over the properties of wand wood today, and Harry found it rather hard not to fall asleep as Professor Sprout lectured on about how to deal with bowtruckles. Sneaking a glance at Ron, Harry smiled as he watched his best friend engage in a rather impassioned conversation about Quidditch with Dean Thomas. Turning his eyes back towards the front of the Greenhouse, Harry let his mind wander.
***
He was standing in the desert, with Draco at his side, dressed in the long flowing robes of the Bedouins. Above him, the unforgiving desert sun beat down upon them even as a dry desert wind blew across the unending dunes of sand. Harry smiled as he felt the light touch of Draco's hand on his shoulder. Eagerly, Harry turned towards his companion, but Draco wasn't there, Draco was gone. Harry felt an edge of fear creep into his mind as he ran through the desert, calling Draco's name. The sand blew into his face, trammeling him like some wild thing and pulling him, struggling, across the desert. Harry heard a scream of pain and somehow knew, without thinking that it was Draco's.
Struggling against the stinging wind, he ran towards the voice until he came to the banks of a river. Harry felt a cold ball of fear settle in his stomach as he stared at the red water that roared past him. It was a river of blood. By the shore, a hooded figure dressed in black could be seen, fighting with a brilliant white unicorn until he pushed the unicorn down into the raging river. Harry's blood ran cold as the figure turned towards him and he saw the two burning red eyes that stared out at him from under that hood. Harry stumbled back from the man he now knew to be Lord Voldemort. A chill ran down his spine as he heard the soft whisper of death over the ceaseless roaring of the raging river. Pushing the fear out of his mind, Harry plunged recklessly into the blood. He had to find Draco. Draco was the lost key to this puzzle, and somehow, Harry knew that if he didn't find him, all would be lost.
The river rushed over him, the current pushing him down. He opened his mouth to cry out for help and swallowed a mouthful of the sweet, metallic liquid. Memories washed over him, as the blood burned through his body, memories of the Dead. Harry felt an answering surge of power rise from within him, a power so like the power of the river. It was a dark void of death and destruction that left Harry chilled to the bone. He felt it fight with the river, forcing the river to give him up even as darkness surrounded him and he was falling, falling, falling...
Blood is the Memory's River.
***
"Harry! Wake up, Harry!" He felt someone push urgently at his shoulder. Harry groaned as he opened his eyes and stared into Hermione's worried face.
"Harry, come on!" whispered Hermione, "Class is almost over!"
"Hermione?" asked Harry drowsily, "What happened?"
You fell asleep," replied Hermione in a disapproving voice, "You really should have been paying attention, you know. We've got an essay on how to collect and store wand wood due next week, and no, you cannot see my notes!" It's not that," said Harry impatiently, "I mean, the dream—"
Hermione glanced sharply at Harry, "I thought you said you could block the dreams! Harry, if you're having problems controlling that damned link again, you've got to go talk to Dumbledore! You cannot have it disrupting your classes!"
"No, it's not that!" said Harry hastily, "It's not that kind of dream; it's different."
Hermione's eyes widened in surprise, "Is it one of the Voldemort dreams?"
"No!" exclaimed Harry vehemently, "It's—it's different, somehow. Never mind, listen, I've got to talk to Draco, do you know where he is?"
Hermione looked away uncomfortably, "I didn't want to bother you with it yet, but, well, here!" Hermione reached into her book bag and pulled out a newspaper.
"You can read it on your way over to Transfiguration," said Hermione as she swung her bag over her shoulder and joined the rest of the students who were filing out of the greenhouse, "Malfoy most likely isn't here today, Harry. In fact, I don't know when, or even if, he'll be back."
Harry frowned at her, puzzled by what she'd said. Snapping his book bag closed, he followed her quickly out of the greenhouse, suddenly grateful that Ron had already gone on ahead with Dean and Seamus. Carefully, Harry opened the paper to the front page and stared for a moment at the headlines. It read:
ATTEMPTED ESCAPE FROM AZKABAN FOILED BY AURORS
Late last night, when the guard was changed in Azkaban prison, several Death Eaters, who had not escaped during the mass revolt of the Dementors this June, attempted a daring escape plan. The revolt, lead by Lucius Malfoy, was unsuccessful. However, casualties are rumored to be high. Initial reports say as many as twenty Aurors and one hundred prisoners were killed or injured in the fight, however, the Ministry has yet to confirm these numbers. It has been confirmed, however, that Lucius Malfoy, the ringleader of the revolt was killed last night.
Lucius Malfoy, once a prominent politician, had been sentenced to twenty years in prison for his part in the raid of the Ministry this summer. It was also believed that he had a role in the abduction of Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, last year during the Triwizard Tournament. An attempt was made to reach his aggrieved widow and son, but their lawyers have stated that they have no statement to release at this time...
The article went on for several more paragraphs, which Harry skimmed through with growing anger as Hermione watched him nervously. Finally he asked in a strangled voice, "Why didn't you show me this earlier?"
"Because, what good would it have done to worry you?" asked Hermione patiently as they entered the castle, "Look, you've been way to caught up in this mystic link you have with Malfoy and your necromancy lessons with Professor Phoebus. I don't blame you for it, heaven knows you can't have another incident like the one in Diagon Alley happen again, but what about you, Harry? It's not been easy watching you push yourself to the point of exhaustion. It's not easy watching you and Ron have one of your disagreements either. I guess what I'm trying to say is that you have to stop worrying about things you can't change."
Harry sighed, "I know, Hermione. But in the future don't try to hold things back from me. I need to know I that I can trust you. It's one of the few things keeping me sane through all this.
***
Draco shuddered as he stepped into the crematorium's front parlor. "Calm down," he told himself, as he was lead by two, stone-faced Aurors to the room that held his father's body. Behind him, Narcissa Malfoy followed, head held high and proud despite the pain and humiliation Lucius had brought on them through his rash actions.
Finally, they reached a non-descript door made of bolted steel. The Aurors stepped back silently, letting Draco open it for himself. Draco's hand trembled slightly as he reached for the doorknob but his eyes were empty and his face was a cold mask of arrogance and pride when he finally flung the door open.
Lucius Malfoy's body lay, covered by a thin, white sheet on a cold, stainless steel table in the center of the room. Slowly Draco approached the body until he stood beside it. Calmly, he reached for the cloth and flung it back with a swift movement of his wrist. Behind him, Draco heard his mother gasp. Almost unconsciously, he reached for her hand and held it, comfortingly.
One of the Aurors spoke, "It was the Killing curse that did it. Rest assured that he suffered no pain in the end. It is the custom to...neutralize...the body of a previous Death Eater to prevent the Dark Lord from calling to them even after death. However, I have been instructed by the Minister of Magic, himself, to tell you that exceptions will be made seeing how he was a Malfoy."
"No," replied Draco coldly as he pulled the sheet back up to cover Lucius' face, "He has dishonored the Malfoy name and so he does not deserve an honorable burial in the family Mausoleum. Have his body cremated and mix salt into the ashes. Spread the ashes over three separate bodies of water. The Dark Lord is cunning. Even neutralized, he can still find uses for the bodies of his dead servants. I want no chance that my father shall ever serve the Dark Lord again." The Auror bowed his head solemnly, "It shall be done as you wish." Draco nodded curtly before storming out of the room and down the hall, his mother following after his wake. A few minutes later, they were safely in the back of a limousine on their way to Malfoy Manor.
"Have you heard?" asked Narcissa quietly, "Have they sent anything?" "Yes," sighed Draco as he reached into his robes and pulled out a wax sealed envelope bearing the Malfoy Coat of Arms. "I have not yet opened it."
"If the Patriarchs—" "Yes, I know," cut in Draco sharply, "If that happens—I've already closed father's Gringotts account. The money has been moved to your's. I have also made arrangements for the rest of our investments to be put under your name. Go to the Grimmauld Place and wait for me there."
"Draco, open it here," said Narcissa in a determined voice, "I have to know before you leave." Draco's hands trembled ever so slightly as he broke the seal and opened the envelope. A single leaf of parchment fell into Draco's lap.
Carefully, Draco unfolded the letter and read, "'To: The Lord Malfoy of Malfoy Manor Greetings. Due to the tragedy of the death of the Master of this House the House of Malfoy is now without a qualified leader. It has been decided by the Patriarchs that a new leader must be chosen before the new moon. One representative should be present from each branch of the House at the Palazzo d' Malfoi on the first day of the Dark of the Moon to begin the ceremony for the coronation of a new Master of the House of Malfoy.' It is signed with the Malfoy family Coat of Arms. There is no doubt about it. It s truly from the Council of Patriarchs."
Narcissa let out a frightened wail, "Do not go, I beg you! They will kill you; I know it! Your father has made many enemies within the House. They will kill you for no other reason than because you are his son!"
Draco's anger flared as he turned to snap angrily at his mother, "Don't you think I know that, already? I have to go! Considering the seriousness of my father's trespasses against the family honor, it is within the right of the Patriarchs to order a full execution of our family. Be grateful that, at least this way, there is still a chance for redemption!"
Narcissa laughed bitterly, "So you would choose death over life. You truly are a Malfoy, just like your father!"
For a moment, shock and pain flickered in the depth of Draco's clear, gray eyes. "How dare you," he whispered, "How dare you compare me to him!"
"Oh, don't think I wont dare," hissed Narcissa angrily, "Don't you understand? Life in any form is better than death. But you, you like Lucius would choose ashes and dust rather than the happiness offered to you. What chance do you think a boy like you has against the true terror of Malfoy?"
"You are frightened," said Draco coolly, "You fear for my life. Do not worry, I do not choose death over life. While there is the possibility that I will be killed, I shall not give up hope for life while I still breath. The House of Malfoy is powerful, if I run from them now, sooner or later, they will catch me, and I will die."
"How can you be so confident?" whispered Narcissa, "You are but a boy!"
"It will be alright, trust me," said Draco determinedly, "Drop me off at Hogwarts. There is something I must see too before I leave. Make arrangements for a portkey to be sent to my room in the castle tonight."
***
Determinedly, Draco made his way down the many halls of Hogwarts till he reached the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. Being a Slytherin, he had long ago worked out how the portrait hole worked. Yet, despite all his cunning, he had yet to figure out the password. Silently, Draco sent his telepathic voice over the link, calling gently to Harry. A moment later, the portrait hole opened and Harry clambered out into the hallway.
"Malfoy, what—"asked Harry in a startled voice as Draco quickly dragged him into an empty storage closet.
"I can't be seen with you in public!" hissed Draco urgently, "Go to the Room of Requirement, I'll meet you there in fifteen minutes."
Harry just shook his head as he stared into the other boy's pale, pointed face. "Alright, said Harry abruptly, he turned to leave, "Draco, I'm sorry about your father."
***
Draco stared at the closed door of the storage closet, stunned by what Harry had said. Desperately, he tried to push away the memories that came flooding back to him and regain the cool composure he had managed to keep all morning. Draco let out a barely stifled scream of frustration. How could he mourn for a man who would have cheerfully turned Draco over to the Dark Lord once he reached his majority? Yet, Lucius had been a father to him. They hadn't loved each other, but there had been something between them. A form of respect and admiration that had all but disappeared in the last few years only to come back to him now when Lucius was dead and could no longer care. Draco shook his head, he couldn't think about his father now; he had to talk to Harry.
***
Draco stepped into the Room of Requirement and quickly closed and locked the door behind him before turning around to face Harry. Harry sat waiting for him on the only couch in the room.
"So you knew," said Draco, "How did you find out?"
"Draco, come here," said Harry soothingly as he got up and walked over to his friend, "It'll be alright, trust me."
Something gave way in Draco and he slowly began to crumble as he stared into Harry's honest green eyes. Clumsily, he stumbled into Harry's open arms, sending both of them crashing to the floor. "What am I going to do?" sobbed Draco as he buried his head into Harry's shoulder, "God damn it, Harry! Do you know how tired I am? How tired I am of everyone's expectations of me? I can't take it anymore, I can't! My father, he was an honorable man. All I ever wanted when I was little was to be like him! Don't you see, he truly believed in the Dark Lord, truly believed that He Who Must Not Be Named would make things better in the wizarding world. His beliefs might have been wrong, but at least he believed in something! Believed in a cause enough to sacrifice his life for it. And I, what kind of person am I? I who would willingly shame my father in death just to save my own honor, what kind of selfish bastard am I?" Draco collapsed into uncontrollable sobs. Gently, Harry wrapped his arms tightly about Draco's slender form and let the other boy cry himself out. He's only human, thought Harry sadly as he led Draco to the couch. As irrational as it was, it was a comforting to know that Draco, like everyone else, could bleed. Some times, it had seemed to Harry that Draco had become so buried in his own insecurity that he did not feel love or heartbreak anymore. It relieved Harry to know that Draco, for all his maturity, was still a boy. Finally, Draco's sobs began to subside into sniffles and Harry reluctantly let him go.
"I'm sorry, Harry," said Draco weakly, "I didn't mean to—" "No," said Harry firmly as he stared into Draco's stormy gray eyes, "Don't be sorry. You can't go through life keeping all your emotions inside, thinking you don't need anyone's help. I'm here for you, and, I care about you a great deal. It hurts me to see you suffering. True strength comes only when you know you aren't alone, Draco."
Draco smiled wryly as he wiped angrily at the tear stains on his face, "How typically Gryffindor of you. I bet you tell your friends everything that goes on in your life so they'll be there to 'support' you."
"Of course not!" replied Harry in a miffed voice, he smiled suddenly, "Everyone has a secret or two, but that doesn't mean you can't have friends who will love and accept you for who you are. I don't pretend to know everything about you, but I think that nevertheless, I understand you, Draco."
Draco thought about that for a moment then shook his head, "Do you realize that I didn't understand a single word you just said?"
Harry grinned, "I don't think you were supposed to. Now, what was it that you needed to talk to me about?"
Draco hesitated, "I'm going to Italy tonight. I don't know when I'll be back."
Harry froze, "Why?"
"It seems that after my father's death, someone has challenged my right to inherit his place as Master of the House of Malfoy," replied Draco through gritted teeth, "I'll be truthful with you, Harry, what I'm doing by answering that challenge is dangerous. There is a chance that I shall be killed in a duel for succession."
Harry sighed, "I want to forbid you from going. I want to make you stay here with me so you wont get hurt. I need you, need to know that you're all right, but I know that I can't protect you forever. Leave if you must, but you better come back alive and unhurt."
Draco smiled wanly, "Thank you for understanding."
Harry returned the smile and pulled Draco gently towards him. "Be careful them," he whispered as he leaned in to kiss the blonde boy softly, "I love you." After a moment, Draco pulled back reluctantly.
"Please tell Professors Olympia and Phoebus where I have gone, they will understand," said Draco as he brushed Harry's tousled hair away from his eyes.
Harry frowned, "Professor Olympia? Oh, you mean the new Care of Magical Creatures professor."
"Yes, her name is actually Artemis," Draco arched an eyebrow at Harry, "Artemis as in the Goddess Artemis."
Harry's eyes widened in disbelief, "Shit!"
Draco smiled dryly, "That was basically my reaction when she first showed up on my doorstep."
"Draco, that reminds me, I had a dream about you!" said Harry urgently. Quickly, he recounted the dream he had had in Herbology. "Tell Professor Phoebus," said Draco urgently, "I have a feeling that the dream might be prophetic in some way. He will know what to do." Draco hesitated before adding, "Harry, the unicorn is my animal to call. The unicorn that you saw on the banks of the river, that was probably me."
"I know," whispered Harry, "I had this feeling when I saw it, and I knew somehow that it was you. Watch your back alright?"
Draco's smile was haunted, "Always."
***
Draco flung the window f his bedroom open and watched as his eagle owl, Ramses, soared into view, carrying a brown paper package. Draco closed his eyes and breathed in the warm night air. Overhead, a full moon shone it's light over Hogwarts. Draco shuddered, tomorrow would be the first night of the dark of the moon and the beginning of the battle for supremacy.
Not that Draco was worried. He still had his trump card after all, and, as far as he knew, no one else had a clue about what he had become. Still the power of the Hunter waxes and wanes with the light of the moon, and Draco was painfully aware that he was weakest during the dark of the moon and most powerful during the full moon.
Stepping away from the window, Draco watched as Ramses landed gracefully on his desk. Quickly, he untied the package from the owl's leg and gently coaxed him back into the cage. He was just about to open the package when the door burst open and Dumbledore strode in.
"I'm sorry master," apologized Crabbe effusively, "We couldn't stop him!"
Draco turned towards Dumbledore, one eyebrow arched questioningly. "Is there something I can help you with, Professor?" asked Draco pleasantly.
"I just received word from your mother, Draco. Don't go."
Draco sighed impatiently, "Don't any of you understand? I have no freaking choice but to go!"
Dumbledore shook his head stubbornly, "No, the Order of the Phoenix will protect you!"
"To what point?" asked Draco scathingly; "Of what importance will I be to the Order if I no longer controlled the House of Malfoy? Can you convince your people to protect me when that happens, Dumbledore?"
"Draco, this is suicide," pleaded Dumbledore angrily, "You may be a member of the House of Malfoy, but even you cannot possibly fathom the brutality and ruthlessness of that family!"
Draco slammed his fist into the desk. "Don't tell me useless things, old man!" he snarled furiously, "I was raised in Paris, in the Malfoy Motherhouse under the guardianship of the Council of Patriarchs. I think I understand this situation far better than you ever could!"
Dumbledore paled, "You were raised there? Why?"
Draco looked away, "It's not important, there is nothing you can say to change my mind now."
Dumbledore nodded gravely, "Then go." He hesitated before asking, "My spies tell me that the House will not be convening at the Motherhouse. Where are you going, then?"
"Italy," answered Draco softly, "The Palazzo d' Malfoi in Venice."
Dumbledore hissed, "It is worse than I thought. Draco, it was your right to become the Master of the House after your father's death had Lorenzo Malfoy not challenged your right to the title. He is one of Voldemort's spies and has orders to assassinate you. You're walking into a trap; Lorenzo Malfoy is the Prince of the Palazzo d' Malfoi.
"How could he hurt me?" asked Draco dismissively, "Even if he did challenge me to a title duel, the House would never accept him. He's not a pureblood, that's why he's hosting, because he, himself, cannot take the title."
"He can't," replied Dumbledore evenly, "But his puppet Lineas Malfoy can. If you really must go, then take Crabbe and Goyle with you."
"What I do will be my decision alone, Dumbledore. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to talk to my bodyguards," said Draco coolly.
Dumbledore sighed angrily, "Alright then, do what you want. Just remember what I've told you." Silently, Dumbledore swept out of Draco's room.
"Master—," began Goyle hesitantly.
"No Goyle," cut in Draco coldly, "If the two of you come with me, it'll be a sign of my own weakness that I need your help. Besides, you cannot protect me from my own family."
"Yes Master," said Goyle in a subdued voice, "What orders do you have for us while you are away?"
Draco hesitated then said softly, "See that no harm comes to the Slytherins while I'm gone and watch over Harry, please."
"As you wish, Master," said Crabbe gently, "We shall leave you now." Draco nodded and turned his attention to the package that Ramses had brought. A moment later, the door closed softly behind him and Draco breathed a small sigh of relief.
He had known he would have to confront Dumbledore before he left, but he hadn't expected it to go quite so well. The old man was stubborn and there had been no knowing what he might have done to stop him. Draco shuddered at the thought of how close he had come to cursing the man and fleeing while Dumbledore was still preoccupied.
Picking up a heavy silver letter opener engraved with dragons, he carefully opened the package. The brown wrapping paper fell away to reveal a round orb of the finest black marble. Draco felt his breath hitch as he stared at the orb. He had not expected to get this of all portkeys, but then again why not? Was he not a Lord of Malfoy in his own right? The portkey was a family treasure, one keyed not to a specific place but a specific group of people. It would take the user to where ever the Court and Patriarchs of Malfoy were residing at a particular time. Only one was ever issued to a specific branch of the family and the Lord of each Manor guarded it jealously.
Draco walked over to his wardrobe and carefully took out a set of formal Malfoy robes. Quickly, he changed into the heavy velvet robes, adjusting the collar self consciously and carefully scrutinizing his appearance in the mirror. Malfoy robes were of heavy velvet made in the formal medieval style. Each set was carefully embroidered in silver fleur de lis and had the Malfoy crest embossed over the heart. A heavy silver belt set with a blood red stone encircled Draco's skinny waste and the edges of the robe were trimmed with black mink fur. Draco frowned and carefully pinned up his collar with a silver broach that matched the belt down to the stone set in each. A silver signet ring went on the ring finger of his left hand and the sword Artemis had given him was belted to his side. Draco hesitated for a moment before he picked up the wand Pan had given him and slipped it into his pocket. Ready at last, he left a note to Crabbe and Goyle, reminding them to take care of Ramses before picking up the heavy portkey.
***
End
Thanks to everyone who reviewed, not going to list everyone right here because I want to get this Chapter up ASAP... The quote "Blood is the Memory's River" is from Anne Bishop's series the Black Jewels Trilogy; an excellent series that I'd recommend to anyone who doesn't mind a little sadism. Hope you liked the cliffhanger I left you at. *grin* I'm so evil aren't I, to leave you just hanging like that? What'll happen during Draco's duel? I honestly don't know at the moment since I haven't finished the conclusion. lol.
Author's Random Ramblings: Wow, it's been awhile hasn't it? I'm sorry it took so long to post but I've got more bad news. My chapters are getting longer and, right now, they are taking a little under two weeks to write each one and a little longer than that to get it betaed so start expecting me to post every other week from now on. I don't know how long that's going to last but I think you'll be seeing this trend till Chapter 9. I can't say anything right now about Chapter 10 because I haven't written it yet. On a happier note, I think you'll be seeing more action and fighting (finally!) in this story from now on!
Chapter 7
Neither Ron nor Hermione spoke much to Harry the following morning, of which Harry was very grateful since he was still trying to think of a way to remedy the situation. Glancing over at the Slytherin table, Harry was a little worried when he noticed that Draco was missing. Turning back to his toast, he tried to shrug it off. He would see Draco soon enough in Herbology.
Harry managed to stifle his scream of frustration when he realized that Draco wasn't going to show up for Herbology either. Where could he be? Harry shook his head, trying to shake off the edge of anxiety that had crept into the back of his mind and pay attention to Professor Sprout. They were going over the properties of wand wood today, and Harry found it rather hard not to fall asleep as Professor Sprout lectured on about how to deal with bowtruckles. Sneaking a glance at Ron, Harry smiled as he watched his best friend engage in a rather impassioned conversation about Quidditch with Dean Thomas. Turning his eyes back towards the front of the Greenhouse, Harry let his mind wander.
***
He was standing in the desert, with Draco at his side, dressed in the long flowing robes of the Bedouins. Above him, the unforgiving desert sun beat down upon them even as a dry desert wind blew across the unending dunes of sand. Harry smiled as he felt the light touch of Draco's hand on his shoulder. Eagerly, Harry turned towards his companion, but Draco wasn't there, Draco was gone. Harry felt an edge of fear creep into his mind as he ran through the desert, calling Draco's name. The sand blew into his face, trammeling him like some wild thing and pulling him, struggling, across the desert. Harry heard a scream of pain and somehow knew, without thinking that it was Draco's.
Struggling against the stinging wind, he ran towards the voice until he came to the banks of a river. Harry felt a cold ball of fear settle in his stomach as he stared at the red water that roared past him. It was a river of blood. By the shore, a hooded figure dressed in black could be seen, fighting with a brilliant white unicorn until he pushed the unicorn down into the raging river. Harry's blood ran cold as the figure turned towards him and he saw the two burning red eyes that stared out at him from under that hood. Harry stumbled back from the man he now knew to be Lord Voldemort. A chill ran down his spine as he heard the soft whisper of death over the ceaseless roaring of the raging river. Pushing the fear out of his mind, Harry plunged recklessly into the blood. He had to find Draco. Draco was the lost key to this puzzle, and somehow, Harry knew that if he didn't find him, all would be lost.
The river rushed over him, the current pushing him down. He opened his mouth to cry out for help and swallowed a mouthful of the sweet, metallic liquid. Memories washed over him, as the blood burned through his body, memories of the Dead. Harry felt an answering surge of power rise from within him, a power so like the power of the river. It was a dark void of death and destruction that left Harry chilled to the bone. He felt it fight with the river, forcing the river to give him up even as darkness surrounded him and he was falling, falling, falling...
Blood is the Memory's River.
***
"Harry! Wake up, Harry!" He felt someone push urgently at his shoulder. Harry groaned as he opened his eyes and stared into Hermione's worried face.
"Harry, come on!" whispered Hermione, "Class is almost over!"
"Hermione?" asked Harry drowsily, "What happened?"
You fell asleep," replied Hermione in a disapproving voice, "You really should have been paying attention, you know. We've got an essay on how to collect and store wand wood due next week, and no, you cannot see my notes!" It's not that," said Harry impatiently, "I mean, the dream—"
Hermione glanced sharply at Harry, "I thought you said you could block the dreams! Harry, if you're having problems controlling that damned link again, you've got to go talk to Dumbledore! You cannot have it disrupting your classes!"
"No, it's not that!" said Harry hastily, "It's not that kind of dream; it's different."
Hermione's eyes widened in surprise, "Is it one of the Voldemort dreams?"
"No!" exclaimed Harry vehemently, "It's—it's different, somehow. Never mind, listen, I've got to talk to Draco, do you know where he is?"
Hermione looked away uncomfortably, "I didn't want to bother you with it yet, but, well, here!" Hermione reached into her book bag and pulled out a newspaper.
"You can read it on your way over to Transfiguration," said Hermione as she swung her bag over her shoulder and joined the rest of the students who were filing out of the greenhouse, "Malfoy most likely isn't here today, Harry. In fact, I don't know when, or even if, he'll be back."
Harry frowned at her, puzzled by what she'd said. Snapping his book bag closed, he followed her quickly out of the greenhouse, suddenly grateful that Ron had already gone on ahead with Dean and Seamus. Carefully, Harry opened the paper to the front page and stared for a moment at the headlines. It read:
ATTEMPTED ESCAPE FROM AZKABAN FOILED BY AURORS
Late last night, when the guard was changed in Azkaban prison, several Death Eaters, who had not escaped during the mass revolt of the Dementors this June, attempted a daring escape plan. The revolt, lead by Lucius Malfoy, was unsuccessful. However, casualties are rumored to be high. Initial reports say as many as twenty Aurors and one hundred prisoners were killed or injured in the fight, however, the Ministry has yet to confirm these numbers. It has been confirmed, however, that Lucius Malfoy, the ringleader of the revolt was killed last night.
Lucius Malfoy, once a prominent politician, had been sentenced to twenty years in prison for his part in the raid of the Ministry this summer. It was also believed that he had a role in the abduction of Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, last year during the Triwizard Tournament. An attempt was made to reach his aggrieved widow and son, but their lawyers have stated that they have no statement to release at this time...
The article went on for several more paragraphs, which Harry skimmed through with growing anger as Hermione watched him nervously. Finally he asked in a strangled voice, "Why didn't you show me this earlier?"
"Because, what good would it have done to worry you?" asked Hermione patiently as they entered the castle, "Look, you've been way to caught up in this mystic link you have with Malfoy and your necromancy lessons with Professor Phoebus. I don't blame you for it, heaven knows you can't have another incident like the one in Diagon Alley happen again, but what about you, Harry? It's not been easy watching you push yourself to the point of exhaustion. It's not easy watching you and Ron have one of your disagreements either. I guess what I'm trying to say is that you have to stop worrying about things you can't change."
Harry sighed, "I know, Hermione. But in the future don't try to hold things back from me. I need to know I that I can trust you. It's one of the few things keeping me sane through all this.
***
Draco shuddered as he stepped into the crematorium's front parlor. "Calm down," he told himself, as he was lead by two, stone-faced Aurors to the room that held his father's body. Behind him, Narcissa Malfoy followed, head held high and proud despite the pain and humiliation Lucius had brought on them through his rash actions.
Finally, they reached a non-descript door made of bolted steel. The Aurors stepped back silently, letting Draco open it for himself. Draco's hand trembled slightly as he reached for the doorknob but his eyes were empty and his face was a cold mask of arrogance and pride when he finally flung the door open.
Lucius Malfoy's body lay, covered by a thin, white sheet on a cold, stainless steel table in the center of the room. Slowly Draco approached the body until he stood beside it. Calmly, he reached for the cloth and flung it back with a swift movement of his wrist. Behind him, Draco heard his mother gasp. Almost unconsciously, he reached for her hand and held it, comfortingly.
One of the Aurors spoke, "It was the Killing curse that did it. Rest assured that he suffered no pain in the end. It is the custom to...neutralize...the body of a previous Death Eater to prevent the Dark Lord from calling to them even after death. However, I have been instructed by the Minister of Magic, himself, to tell you that exceptions will be made seeing how he was a Malfoy."
"No," replied Draco coldly as he pulled the sheet back up to cover Lucius' face, "He has dishonored the Malfoy name and so he does not deserve an honorable burial in the family Mausoleum. Have his body cremated and mix salt into the ashes. Spread the ashes over three separate bodies of water. The Dark Lord is cunning. Even neutralized, he can still find uses for the bodies of his dead servants. I want no chance that my father shall ever serve the Dark Lord again." The Auror bowed his head solemnly, "It shall be done as you wish." Draco nodded curtly before storming out of the room and down the hall, his mother following after his wake. A few minutes later, they were safely in the back of a limousine on their way to Malfoy Manor.
"Have you heard?" asked Narcissa quietly, "Have they sent anything?" "Yes," sighed Draco as he reached into his robes and pulled out a wax sealed envelope bearing the Malfoy Coat of Arms. "I have not yet opened it."
"If the Patriarchs—" "Yes, I know," cut in Draco sharply, "If that happens—I've already closed father's Gringotts account. The money has been moved to your's. I have also made arrangements for the rest of our investments to be put under your name. Go to the Grimmauld Place and wait for me there."
"Draco, open it here," said Narcissa in a determined voice, "I have to know before you leave." Draco's hands trembled ever so slightly as he broke the seal and opened the envelope. A single leaf of parchment fell into Draco's lap.
Carefully, Draco unfolded the letter and read, "'To: The Lord Malfoy of Malfoy Manor Greetings. Due to the tragedy of the death of the Master of this House the House of Malfoy is now without a qualified leader. It has been decided by the Patriarchs that a new leader must be chosen before the new moon. One representative should be present from each branch of the House at the Palazzo d' Malfoi on the first day of the Dark of the Moon to begin the ceremony for the coronation of a new Master of the House of Malfoy.' It is signed with the Malfoy family Coat of Arms. There is no doubt about it. It s truly from the Council of Patriarchs."
Narcissa let out a frightened wail, "Do not go, I beg you! They will kill you; I know it! Your father has made many enemies within the House. They will kill you for no other reason than because you are his son!"
Draco's anger flared as he turned to snap angrily at his mother, "Don't you think I know that, already? I have to go! Considering the seriousness of my father's trespasses against the family honor, it is within the right of the Patriarchs to order a full execution of our family. Be grateful that, at least this way, there is still a chance for redemption!"
Narcissa laughed bitterly, "So you would choose death over life. You truly are a Malfoy, just like your father!"
For a moment, shock and pain flickered in the depth of Draco's clear, gray eyes. "How dare you," he whispered, "How dare you compare me to him!"
"Oh, don't think I wont dare," hissed Narcissa angrily, "Don't you understand? Life in any form is better than death. But you, you like Lucius would choose ashes and dust rather than the happiness offered to you. What chance do you think a boy like you has against the true terror of Malfoy?"
"You are frightened," said Draco coolly, "You fear for my life. Do not worry, I do not choose death over life. While there is the possibility that I will be killed, I shall not give up hope for life while I still breath. The House of Malfoy is powerful, if I run from them now, sooner or later, they will catch me, and I will die."
"How can you be so confident?" whispered Narcissa, "You are but a boy!"
"It will be alright, trust me," said Draco determinedly, "Drop me off at Hogwarts. There is something I must see too before I leave. Make arrangements for a portkey to be sent to my room in the castle tonight."
***
Determinedly, Draco made his way down the many halls of Hogwarts till he reached the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. Being a Slytherin, he had long ago worked out how the portrait hole worked. Yet, despite all his cunning, he had yet to figure out the password. Silently, Draco sent his telepathic voice over the link, calling gently to Harry. A moment later, the portrait hole opened and Harry clambered out into the hallway.
"Malfoy, what—"asked Harry in a startled voice as Draco quickly dragged him into an empty storage closet.
"I can't be seen with you in public!" hissed Draco urgently, "Go to the Room of Requirement, I'll meet you there in fifteen minutes."
Harry just shook his head as he stared into the other boy's pale, pointed face. "Alright, said Harry abruptly, he turned to leave, "Draco, I'm sorry about your father."
***
Draco stared at the closed door of the storage closet, stunned by what Harry had said. Desperately, he tried to push away the memories that came flooding back to him and regain the cool composure he had managed to keep all morning. Draco let out a barely stifled scream of frustration. How could he mourn for a man who would have cheerfully turned Draco over to the Dark Lord once he reached his majority? Yet, Lucius had been a father to him. They hadn't loved each other, but there had been something between them. A form of respect and admiration that had all but disappeared in the last few years only to come back to him now when Lucius was dead and could no longer care. Draco shook his head, he couldn't think about his father now; he had to talk to Harry.
***
Draco stepped into the Room of Requirement and quickly closed and locked the door behind him before turning around to face Harry. Harry sat waiting for him on the only couch in the room.
"So you knew," said Draco, "How did you find out?"
"Draco, come here," said Harry soothingly as he got up and walked over to his friend, "It'll be alright, trust me."
Something gave way in Draco and he slowly began to crumble as he stared into Harry's honest green eyes. Clumsily, he stumbled into Harry's open arms, sending both of them crashing to the floor. "What am I going to do?" sobbed Draco as he buried his head into Harry's shoulder, "God damn it, Harry! Do you know how tired I am? How tired I am of everyone's expectations of me? I can't take it anymore, I can't! My father, he was an honorable man. All I ever wanted when I was little was to be like him! Don't you see, he truly believed in the Dark Lord, truly believed that He Who Must Not Be Named would make things better in the wizarding world. His beliefs might have been wrong, but at least he believed in something! Believed in a cause enough to sacrifice his life for it. And I, what kind of person am I? I who would willingly shame my father in death just to save my own honor, what kind of selfish bastard am I?" Draco collapsed into uncontrollable sobs. Gently, Harry wrapped his arms tightly about Draco's slender form and let the other boy cry himself out. He's only human, thought Harry sadly as he led Draco to the couch. As irrational as it was, it was a comforting to know that Draco, like everyone else, could bleed. Some times, it had seemed to Harry that Draco had become so buried in his own insecurity that he did not feel love or heartbreak anymore. It relieved Harry to know that Draco, for all his maturity, was still a boy. Finally, Draco's sobs began to subside into sniffles and Harry reluctantly let him go.
"I'm sorry, Harry," said Draco weakly, "I didn't mean to—" "No," said Harry firmly as he stared into Draco's stormy gray eyes, "Don't be sorry. You can't go through life keeping all your emotions inside, thinking you don't need anyone's help. I'm here for you, and, I care about you a great deal. It hurts me to see you suffering. True strength comes only when you know you aren't alone, Draco."
Draco smiled wryly as he wiped angrily at the tear stains on his face, "How typically Gryffindor of you. I bet you tell your friends everything that goes on in your life so they'll be there to 'support' you."
"Of course not!" replied Harry in a miffed voice, he smiled suddenly, "Everyone has a secret or two, but that doesn't mean you can't have friends who will love and accept you for who you are. I don't pretend to know everything about you, but I think that nevertheless, I understand you, Draco."
Draco thought about that for a moment then shook his head, "Do you realize that I didn't understand a single word you just said?"
Harry grinned, "I don't think you were supposed to. Now, what was it that you needed to talk to me about?"
Draco hesitated, "I'm going to Italy tonight. I don't know when I'll be back."
Harry froze, "Why?"
"It seems that after my father's death, someone has challenged my right to inherit his place as Master of the House of Malfoy," replied Draco through gritted teeth, "I'll be truthful with you, Harry, what I'm doing by answering that challenge is dangerous. There is a chance that I shall be killed in a duel for succession."
Harry sighed, "I want to forbid you from going. I want to make you stay here with me so you wont get hurt. I need you, need to know that you're all right, but I know that I can't protect you forever. Leave if you must, but you better come back alive and unhurt."
Draco smiled wanly, "Thank you for understanding."
Harry returned the smile and pulled Draco gently towards him. "Be careful them," he whispered as he leaned in to kiss the blonde boy softly, "I love you." After a moment, Draco pulled back reluctantly.
"Please tell Professors Olympia and Phoebus where I have gone, they will understand," said Draco as he brushed Harry's tousled hair away from his eyes.
Harry frowned, "Professor Olympia? Oh, you mean the new Care of Magical Creatures professor."
"Yes, her name is actually Artemis," Draco arched an eyebrow at Harry, "Artemis as in the Goddess Artemis."
Harry's eyes widened in disbelief, "Shit!"
Draco smiled dryly, "That was basically my reaction when she first showed up on my doorstep."
"Draco, that reminds me, I had a dream about you!" said Harry urgently. Quickly, he recounted the dream he had had in Herbology. "Tell Professor Phoebus," said Draco urgently, "I have a feeling that the dream might be prophetic in some way. He will know what to do." Draco hesitated before adding, "Harry, the unicorn is my animal to call. The unicorn that you saw on the banks of the river, that was probably me."
"I know," whispered Harry, "I had this feeling when I saw it, and I knew somehow that it was you. Watch your back alright?"
Draco's smile was haunted, "Always."
***
Draco flung the window f his bedroom open and watched as his eagle owl, Ramses, soared into view, carrying a brown paper package. Draco closed his eyes and breathed in the warm night air. Overhead, a full moon shone it's light over Hogwarts. Draco shuddered, tomorrow would be the first night of the dark of the moon and the beginning of the battle for supremacy.
Not that Draco was worried. He still had his trump card after all, and, as far as he knew, no one else had a clue about what he had become. Still the power of the Hunter waxes and wanes with the light of the moon, and Draco was painfully aware that he was weakest during the dark of the moon and most powerful during the full moon.
Stepping away from the window, Draco watched as Ramses landed gracefully on his desk. Quickly, he untied the package from the owl's leg and gently coaxed him back into the cage. He was just about to open the package when the door burst open and Dumbledore strode in.
"I'm sorry master," apologized Crabbe effusively, "We couldn't stop him!"
Draco turned towards Dumbledore, one eyebrow arched questioningly. "Is there something I can help you with, Professor?" asked Draco pleasantly.
"I just received word from your mother, Draco. Don't go."
Draco sighed impatiently, "Don't any of you understand? I have no freaking choice but to go!"
Dumbledore shook his head stubbornly, "No, the Order of the Phoenix will protect you!"
"To what point?" asked Draco scathingly; "Of what importance will I be to the Order if I no longer controlled the House of Malfoy? Can you convince your people to protect me when that happens, Dumbledore?"
"Draco, this is suicide," pleaded Dumbledore angrily, "You may be a member of the House of Malfoy, but even you cannot possibly fathom the brutality and ruthlessness of that family!"
Draco slammed his fist into the desk. "Don't tell me useless things, old man!" he snarled furiously, "I was raised in Paris, in the Malfoy Motherhouse under the guardianship of the Council of Patriarchs. I think I understand this situation far better than you ever could!"
Dumbledore paled, "You were raised there? Why?"
Draco looked away, "It's not important, there is nothing you can say to change my mind now."
Dumbledore nodded gravely, "Then go." He hesitated before asking, "My spies tell me that the House will not be convening at the Motherhouse. Where are you going, then?"
"Italy," answered Draco softly, "The Palazzo d' Malfoi in Venice."
Dumbledore hissed, "It is worse than I thought. Draco, it was your right to become the Master of the House after your father's death had Lorenzo Malfoy not challenged your right to the title. He is one of Voldemort's spies and has orders to assassinate you. You're walking into a trap; Lorenzo Malfoy is the Prince of the Palazzo d' Malfoi.
"How could he hurt me?" asked Draco dismissively, "Even if he did challenge me to a title duel, the House would never accept him. He's not a pureblood, that's why he's hosting, because he, himself, cannot take the title."
"He can't," replied Dumbledore evenly, "But his puppet Lineas Malfoy can. If you really must go, then take Crabbe and Goyle with you."
"What I do will be my decision alone, Dumbledore. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to talk to my bodyguards," said Draco coolly.
Dumbledore sighed angrily, "Alright then, do what you want. Just remember what I've told you." Silently, Dumbledore swept out of Draco's room.
"Master—," began Goyle hesitantly.
"No Goyle," cut in Draco coldly, "If the two of you come with me, it'll be a sign of my own weakness that I need your help. Besides, you cannot protect me from my own family."
"Yes Master," said Goyle in a subdued voice, "What orders do you have for us while you are away?"
Draco hesitated then said softly, "See that no harm comes to the Slytherins while I'm gone and watch over Harry, please."
"As you wish, Master," said Crabbe gently, "We shall leave you now." Draco nodded and turned his attention to the package that Ramses had brought. A moment later, the door closed softly behind him and Draco breathed a small sigh of relief.
He had known he would have to confront Dumbledore before he left, but he hadn't expected it to go quite so well. The old man was stubborn and there had been no knowing what he might have done to stop him. Draco shuddered at the thought of how close he had come to cursing the man and fleeing while Dumbledore was still preoccupied.
Picking up a heavy silver letter opener engraved with dragons, he carefully opened the package. The brown wrapping paper fell away to reveal a round orb of the finest black marble. Draco felt his breath hitch as he stared at the orb. He had not expected to get this of all portkeys, but then again why not? Was he not a Lord of Malfoy in his own right? The portkey was a family treasure, one keyed not to a specific place but a specific group of people. It would take the user to where ever the Court and Patriarchs of Malfoy were residing at a particular time. Only one was ever issued to a specific branch of the family and the Lord of each Manor guarded it jealously.
Draco walked over to his wardrobe and carefully took out a set of formal Malfoy robes. Quickly, he changed into the heavy velvet robes, adjusting the collar self consciously and carefully scrutinizing his appearance in the mirror. Malfoy robes were of heavy velvet made in the formal medieval style. Each set was carefully embroidered in silver fleur de lis and had the Malfoy crest embossed over the heart. A heavy silver belt set with a blood red stone encircled Draco's skinny waste and the edges of the robe were trimmed with black mink fur. Draco frowned and carefully pinned up his collar with a silver broach that matched the belt down to the stone set in each. A silver signet ring went on the ring finger of his left hand and the sword Artemis had given him was belted to his side. Draco hesitated for a moment before he picked up the wand Pan had given him and slipped it into his pocket. Ready at last, he left a note to Crabbe and Goyle, reminding them to take care of Ramses before picking up the heavy portkey.
***
End
Thanks to everyone who reviewed, not going to list everyone right here because I want to get this Chapter up ASAP... The quote "Blood is the Memory's River" is from Anne Bishop's series the Black Jewels Trilogy; an excellent series that I'd recommend to anyone who doesn't mind a little sadism. Hope you liked the cliffhanger I left you at. *grin* I'm so evil aren't I, to leave you just hanging like that? What'll happen during Draco's duel? I honestly don't know at the moment since I haven't finished the conclusion. lol.