Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling

A/N: Sorry for the long delay... An unfortunate combination of exams, real life, and writer's block bugged me for quite a while :)
I hope it's readable and enjoyable, and I know the formatting most likely sucks, but I had the urge to get it finished and online :) Thanks for the reviews in the mean time g> Keep 'em coming :)

Chapter 10

Draco opened his eyes and smiled. Most people wouldn't go so far and call it a friendly one, but he wasn't all that used at smiling to begin with. As he clambered out of his bed his mental routine slammed into place and his smile was replaced by the usual mask of sneering he wore, and went to the bathroom. It was only a precaution should his former friends see him like that. No Malfoy was supposed to smile. But as Draco had found out in the last days, it was refreshing. His position was precarious enough; he didn't want to further ruin it by showing signs of humanity.
He went under the shower and as the water ran down his body and warmed him up, the past days flew by his inner eye.
These last days had been something new for him, andwere quite special. After he hadran into Potter that other night, he had taken Dumbledore's not so subtle suggestion and talked to him. A real talk, like between normal human beings, and not just between two mortal enemies. Potter had listened closely, his white face shining in the darkness of the astronomy tower like a ghost.
When he told about his father, Potter's face darkened, and for a second he was sure he saw a slight tick of the right corner of his mouth. He hadn't been so sure then whether Potter had a grudge against his father and was blinded by his hatred of all things related to Death Eaters. But as fast as he saw the anger rise in Harry, it just dropped as fast.
What first had only been a confession of sorts developed into a deep exchange between them. Draco told him about his family. The emotional deadness of his home. His mother, only interested in keeping up the façade of the great and noble house of Malfoy, his father, who cared not about anything his son truly wanted, but only that he became a carbon copy of himself to continue the family line.
But as Harry started talking, he found out they shared more than he ever thought possible. Both were now without friends. Harry because he chose to. He because he had had no other option. And as he now knew, they both had less than desirable pasts. He still shuddered at the thought of growing up in a muggle family like that… Surely, Draco never got any warmth and love in his youth, but at least his parents had been above physical violence and hadn't forced him to live away from his own kind. Dumbledore was a tottering fool to believe it would all be good. A miracle Harry had followed him for so long…
But the death of Sirius Black seemed to have been the last punch into his armour and had finally cracked, only to reveal this different Harry. A Harry he soon found out to be really likeable, in a dark, gloomy way. While the old Harryhad beenthe dream of all mother-in-laws, the one he was faced with now was something far more dangerous. And far more interesting…
The frail bond that had developed between the two of them grew stronger by the day. And the rumours and whispers in the halls because of it were really worth it. Seing people shocked to the bones because Harry and Draco were talking to each other seemed to have shattered quite a few comfortable world views.
The tell-tale Malfoy sneer was plastered on his face as he left the shower and dressed.
As he crossed the floors of the Slytherin common room, no greetings or words were uttered. Zabini had stopped his taunting altogether for no apparent reason, and the others had followed suit. Not that he was tocomplain...

Breakfast was an almostsurreal affair, especially in these last days. Draco sat almost completely alone at the far end of the Slytherin table and sipped his tea in solitude. It was as if an intangible field of 'Don't touch me' surrounded him. And across the great hall, almost like through a mirror, he could see Harry sit alone at his table and eat breakfast equally alone.
Soon it was time for the first lesson, and he left his place at the table.
"Good morning, Draco," the pleasant voice of Harry greeted him as he approached the door. At first it had felt strange to use their first names, but now it felt natural. It only increased the difference of their new found relationship.
"Good morning, Harry," he answered. "Looking forward to Defence?"
"Yes, of course. It has always been my favourite subject. Minus the Umbridge affair, of course."
"Of course," Draco chuckled.
As they walked into the class room, a shout greeted them and he felt Harry slam his body sideways.
A booming laugh filled the great room that was today's staging area for Defence against the Dark Arts. "You're getting really good, Potter," the deep Russian accent of Professor Ragdanovichresonated through the airas both he and Harry got up again.
"I strive to please, Professor," he answered with a smile on his face.

After some more test assaults by the Professor, the class was assembled, more or less intact. Ragdanovich had only used low powered stunning spells. So apart from a few indignant faces, no real harm was done. Harry had to chuckle as he looked at Zabini, who had managed to get hit the third time in a row by the Professor. AndZabini thought he was a force worth reckoning…

The training room sported some unusual changes. It was empty, except one pedestal in its midst. Many students had questions on their minds.
"Dear students," the Professor finally said, standing on the pedestal, "come closer."
When all where in a circle around it, he slightly bowed and started speaking in an almost conspiratorial tone. "Today we will perform an ancient ritual, the Aura of Revelation." He looked at the class and almost smiled. "I see not too many really heard about it, good." Someone cleared a throat. "I am sorry, Ms. Granger," he chuckled, "I am certain you have read about it."
The Slytherins snickered, and even Harry couldn't stop himself, which earned him a few scornful looks by Gryffindors.
"The Aura of Revelation shows our true strengths and talents, more or less. That's also why it has been lost in times. It often lead to, eh, inglorious results by descendants of the oh so mighty old houses." Some, especially Slytherin, cast moody glances up to the Professor. "But if I am to teach you how to last in the troublesome times ahead, I must know of those who need special training, so I can use my time more efficiently. Any questions so far?"
A hand rose. "Yes, Ms. Parvati?"
"Isn't it dangerous? My mother told me about an ancient ritual almost like it…"
Ragdanovich laughed. "Ah, the usual fear mongering. But I can assure you that it is absolutely harmless. Except of course to some people's egos." A few subdued chuckled arose.
"But to assure you, and to show you how it is done, I will perform it on myself."
He took his wand and cast a very complex wand motion while muttering something. Suddenly, above them in the room, a tiny fleck of light glowed to life. Before anyone could really say something, it erupted like a supernova. And just as sudden as it erupted, it stopped again, now a globe the size of two outstretched arms, glowing like a second sun. It pulsated in a slow rhythm as if it was alive.
Mesmerized by the sight, Harry overheard the Professor speak again.
"-see is a composite of several sources of information. Mind you, it is nothing exact; it's more like a very good estimation." He pointed at the globe. "The size is roughly equivalent to what one might call raw power. The bigger it is the more power you can theoretically tap into." Ragdanovich looked down on several students. "No, don't be afraid. As anyone will tell you, raw power isn't everything. Even the tiniest creature can slay a dragon; he just has to know how to do it…" He again pointed upwards. "That's where the strength of the light comes into play. It represents knowledge, experience. The more you are in control of your own power, the steadier the light is, the less the aura is in motion."
"Professor," the unmistakeable voice of Hermione cut through the class, "What are the colours there? And the black streaks?"
"Ah, yes, Ms. Granger," he answered her, never lookingaway from his aura. "Keen perception. They represent different fields of magic, talents, knacks. And if you look closely, I got some real talentin the Dark Arts department," he pointed to some black swirls flowing around the globe. "I would not expect you to already have such distinct auras. You're still young and talents often need time to ripe. Now, how is the first one up?"
Needless to say, no one rushed to volunteer. But after the Professor had picked the first students, and they saw it really wasn't dangerous, more were willing to volunteer.
And it was not without the occasional fun. Goyle, and his soul mate Crabbe, were not to be pitied. As the Professor had performed the ritual, all houses except Slytherin, tried to stop themselves from laughing, mostly unsuccessful. The shrivelling, tiny and unshaped…things were an insult to all globes and were so dull Harry would be surprised if one could light the way in a moonlit night with them.
Most Slytherins that been tested showed more black in their auras as the other houses, though Zabini was even blacker than most,unfortunately for him, and his 'fame', his aura certainly wasn't the biggest and showed not so much in the control department. As he walked down, Harry saw his jaws clench with frustration.
But the Gryffindors weren't all shining examples of education either. Neville's aura was quite relatively strong, but what it had in power, it seriously lacked in control. If the spikes andsudden protuberances were any indications to go by, the globe wason the brink of explosion. But one thing caught the Professor's attention.
"Longbottom," he pointed up and smiled," you show a huge talent for plants. Look, there? It's almost completely green! But you really need to learn to get your magic under control, you could do a lot better than now…"
Neville made a miserable look as he walked down, as if he couldn't cope with the encouragement and disappointment at the same time.
Hermione, to no one's surprise,was exceptional as well. When the Professor finished the ritual, a huge globe popped into the room, clearly larger than the Professors, and almost as bright and calm as his one. The colours swirling around it were dominated by the red of charms.
"Ms. Granger!" The Professor laughed. "This really gives another meaning to the saying of the 'brightest witch of your age'. By Merlin… What you can do with that…"
"Why, thank you Professor," she answered and walked down as if she suddenly had grown ten feet.
She was followed by Ron, another Gryffindor disappointment. His aura was stronger than Crabbe and Goyle, but that was an easy feat. It still was a dull, shrivelled little thing, like a balloon with not enough air in it. Slytherin cheered and laughed.
"You bastards,-" Ron was about to launch into yet another fit of rage as Ragdanovich got him off the pedestal. "There's more than magical talent, that you all know. And it grows with age and experience, so don't make too much of it," he tried to calm down Ron.
Draco was the next to go up. Striding up in pure Malfoy-ish style, it seemed as if he owned the place. He looked very calm as the Professor did his spell. The aura was…magnificent. His was rivalling the Professors in size and also in control. The colours swirled around it, and Harry wasn't sure, but he felt as he could see a tint of silver in it. He felt himself drawn to it… As if he was about to drown… If only Draco-
His mind stopped. What are you thinking? Stop it!
"My my, Mr. Malfoy," the Professor played with his beard. "Quite a talent for potions you have? No doubt the makings of dear Snape. I am impressed by your control. It is seldom that people so young are already so attuned…" He dismissed Draco and looked around. "Mr. Potter, I think you're the last one. Hurry!"
Harry reluctantly walked up the pedestal. The other students were watching his every steps. When he was atop the pedestal, he straightened, taking example by Draco.
The Professor did his magic and he looked up. He could see a tiny fleck appear and then… Then was just silence.
One could hear a needle fall to the ground. Where there should be a globe of varying lightness, something else floated. It was an orb of shining blackness, an avatar of nothingness dwarfing even Hermione's. No swirling colours, not one movement on its surface. Just uncompromising blackness…
Harry could hear whispers and murmuring filled with fear. When he looked into the faces of his fellow students, only blank faces looked back. It was as if suddenly the Dark Mark had spread on his forehead. He could see a huge "I told you so!" appear on Ron's face, and Hermione was furiously whispering in his ear. Slytherins were just as flabbergasted as most others. He chuckled as he saw Zabini's reaction. He seemed to remember their clash this one night.
But Draco…just looked at him. Was that a smile he was hiding? It couldn't be…
But then the globe vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.
"Class dismissed!" Ragdanovich bellowed. "Everyone out!"
Harry started to move but was stopped by Ragdanovich. "Not you. We need to talk. In my office, now!"
"By Merlin, Harry!" Ragdanovich said in a hushed voice. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"What, Professor?" Harry tried to play the clueless student.
"Your power… You have to do something! You are so transfixed on Dark Arts… I haven't seen something like yours in ages. You must be very careful what you do. Once the Ministry hears about this, and they will without a doubt, they will follow your every move. If you think they were looking after you before, think again. This is bad, really bad…"
"But I didn't do-"
Ragdanovich suddenly griped him. "It's not what you did, but what you could do in the future! Think! That you survived He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is a miracle in itself. And now it seems you're just as powerful as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? I will do what I can to help you, but I would be very careful who to trust from now on, even more so than in the past…"

Flames blazed from massive flambeaus on the stone walls, dipping the whole room in an ominously red and yellow light. A skull motif made of flowing lava dominated the large cave like room and on the far side a throne of obsidian was looming over the whole scene.
A large group of hooded people lined the lava skull, their dark robes billowing around them by the heat.
It looked terribly cliché, but no one was crazy enough to point it out to the master of this room.
One of the hooded people stepped forward and approached the throne.
"Oh Dark Lord," he bowed deeply, his face almost touching the dirty floor. "I bring the information you desired."
"Then talk! What is with Malfoy?" a raspy voice snapped out from the shadows of the throne.
"My Lord," the hooded man said with a shaky voice. "He has not turned up in any of our meeting points, nor have any of our contacts seen him. It is as if he vanished, my Lord."
"Vanished?" Voldemort hissed. "No one vanished without my permission!"
"There are only three possible explanations I can offer. Firstly, he was captured shortly after his escape from Azkaban."
"No, I would have heard of it by now. The Ministry wouldn't keep this to themselves. Continue."
"Secondly, he might have died on the run, my Lord."
"No, I know Malfoy. He is too resourceful to suffer from his own stupidity, despite the Ministry raid. Impossible. Your last explanation?"
A visible shiver ran down the hooded man, despite the heavy robes. "My Lord," his voice was now close to collapsing, "he might have…left your services."
The shadow on the throne moved slightly. "Are you suggesting I have been…betrayed?"
"It is the most likely explanation I have to offer, my Lord…"
The shadow moved even further, until a pair of glowing eyes appeared. "Is it so? Well, no one leaves me without paying a price…" He paused for dreadful seconds. "He can still be of use to me. He must be brought back here, understood?"
The assembled Death Eaters nodded. "But he will have to pay a price for betrayal. I can't have that… Nalfayn, come forward."
One of the hooded people stepped from the lava skull to the throne. "Yes, Master?" a deep voice answered.
"You will find, and kill, Malfoy's son to serve as an example. Make it gory, will you?"
"Yes, Master," he bowed.
"Very well then, off you go."
Nalfayn turned and strode out of the room.
As he did so, he hears an unearthly shrill laughter coming out of the meeting room.