Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling
A/N: It's really amazing what you can do when you have some free time at hand, so here's the next installment:D
Thanks to rosemary faerie for suffering as a beta :) Though I'm terribly sorry I failed to format as suggested. The interface clearly hates me and my ideas :)
Anyway, I hope you like it, and review g>
Chapter 11
"We can't just sit back and watch this happen, Albus," McGonagall said. She looked at Albus Dumbledore, who was sitting across from her at the large wooden table in a dungeon room deep within the bowels of Hogwarts. Before Dumbledore could answer, Professor Ragdanovich thumped his fist on the table in frustration.
His deep voice rumbled through the room. "It is not as bad as you make it to be, Minerva."
"Is it now, Yuri?" She said with a healthy dose of sarcasm in her voice. "He is turning into a second Voldemort just before our very eyes, and we are supposed to just sit by the side lines and see nothing?"
Ragdanovich was slowly turning slightly red and a tiny vein in his temple was pulsing prominently. "The results of the Aura are not so clear-cut as you make it out to be. There is no bloody manual for it! It just shows a mere interest in Dark Arts. Many people do. Aurors do. Even Snape here does. Is that enough to condemn him? It is just his enormous concentration on it."
"He's more than just interested. But you're too stuck in your little fantasy world to realize what happens out there in the real world, now do you? If we had been more observant back in the days, we might have saw Voldemort for who he really was. You may be ignoring this. I won't."
"He is not Voldemort!" Ragdanovich raised his voice. "He's just a boy – a young man – who has seen more than anybody should see in a lifetime. People around him die in droves, he gets lied to…" He was close to actually shouting. "He has a right to be freaky, a loner, have some quirks. He's only human, not your bloody saviour, for Merlin's sake!"
"How dare-"
"Silence," the almost whispered voice of Albus Dumbledore cut them short. "I have heard enough I think. Now, sit and calm down." His face showed no emotions, not even his usual warm smile or the humour in his eyes. "I like your sentiment, Yuri, but the circumstances demand tribute of all of us, Even Harry. So if something out of the normal happens to him, we have to take notice and take measures of our own. The prophecy-"
"Yes, what about it," Ragdanovich cut Dumbledore short, much to the astonishment of the other guests. "Who is to say that this is not what's supposed to happen? If it is part of this prophecy? Is it our right to intervene?"
"I have thought of that myself." Dumbledore answered with a strange tone in his voice, like a general about to send his men into the battle, not like the wise old grandfather he portrayed so well. "But we cannot allow him to do whatever he wants to. He has to fulfil a function."
"But if you push him to hard, he will only work harder against it. Give him some leeway! Especially after all that he has been through the last months!" Ragdanovich almost pleaded.
"I have to concur with his assessment, Headmaster," Snape raised his voice after he had followed the conversation. "His achievements so far in the classes show only stunning progress compared to last year. He even surpassed Granger in several classes. We should observe him more closely, yes. But we can't rule out that actually something useful might come out of it."
"So we ignore his black…Aura and just go on?" McGonagall asked.
"Well, Minerva," Dumbledore answered her in a conspiratorial voice, "there is one other explanation to his Aura. As Yuri said, the Aura is nothing definite. It is open to interpretation. But I must carefully research the matter. If it is true, the future suddenly became even more interesting."
"Can you tell us more?" She was curious.
Dumbledore looked very sphinxian as he answered her. "It was not supposed to happen within the next two or three generations… Just know that wherever there is light, there is also darkness – and something else."
"But-"
"Now, I can't tell you more until I know myself." He turned to the table. "We keep an even closer eye on Harry from now on. Be on the watch, my friends and report anything unusual you come across. Is there something else?"
McGonagall raised her voice once again. "Yes, one thing. I have been told by my House Prefects that there is growing tension within the House because of Harry. Some start to get afraid of him and his changed personality. I fear it might get out of hand."
"Not having your house under a firm grasp, have you?" Snape snickered.
"From what I hear about your own Malfoy problem, you're not the one to throw stones right now, Severus," she shot back.
"There is no prob-" Snape was about to retort, when he was cut short by Dumbledore.
"Well, Minerva," Dumbledore said as he stood up from his chair, "I will see what can be done. Now, I think we're finished."
"You really should get a life," a familiar voice whispered from behind. Whipping around, Harry looked into the face of a snickering Draco Malfoy, a startling sight to begin with if you weren't used to it.
"Merlin," he sighed, "you have a death wish, do you?" Harry settled himself again in his chair in the back of the library. "I am kind of busy here, you know? What do you do here, anyway?"
"I knew you would say that," he sneered. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you. And it wasn't too hard finding you in your usual hiding spot in the library." Draco got a bit closer and sat down beside him. "Wouldn't it be more effective to do something relaxing from time to time?"
"No, it wouldn't," his eyes darkened. "I have a purpose. To kill Voldemort. I am not achieving it by slacking." He was about to turn back to his books, when Draco's hand gripped him by his shoulder.
"But you won't either by over-working yourself. Trust me, I know." It was still somewhat eerie to see human emotions play over Draco's face, and now there was a sort of deep…sorrow in his eyes. "My father demanded a lot of me. But even he would allow me some time to recover. When was the last time you didn't do something for The Cause?" Harry tried to answer, but he couldn't admit he was right.
"Let me guess," Draco asked him, his slight Malfoy sneer creeping back into place, "got up early, before anyone else-"'
"It makes it easier, and I can do some morning training-"
"Running miles and miles like a driven madman. Then you dive into classes, and afterwards? Homework, some more homework, and even more homework. Then you vanish for several hours, only to pop up again in the library to study the night away. If I didn't know better I'd bet you went to learn some more after the library closed down." Harry couldn't help it but he blushed, slightly. It was a very weird feeling that Draco seemed to care about him, even if he tried to hide it behind his mask of arrogance. In the time they spent together, he learned to read him like a book. And it also made him feel warm inside, strangely enough.
"It is necessary!" He protested. "Training is good for my body; I need to be fit to fight. And I can't fight, if I don't know what I'm up against!"
"Protest as much as you want, but I can tell you, that you won't be fighting He-Wh-…Voldemort if you drop dead from exhaustion. And you will, if you go on like that!" Anger seemed to rise within Draco and his face reddened. A weird thought crossed his mind as he looked into those grey eyes of his. He tried to stop it, but his mouth was faster than the mind.
"It's so cute when you are angry," Harry innocently looked up with twinkling eyes.
"I bloody mean it! Merlin, are you immature!"
"Sorry," Harry, shaking his head, got serious again. "I guess you might – might – be right." Seeing the superior sneer spreading on Draco's face, he went on. "What does the Doctor suggest?"
"There is Hogsmeade weekend coming up. We could go, and have some fun. Like in the good old days. Playing pranks and generally having a blast."
But how? It's always been you on the receiving end of the pranks. I wouldn't be the same…" Harry snickered.
"Oh yeah? Wait till I get you in a dark corner then we'll see…" He almost made it through his little speech without laughing, though he tried to hide it in a cough.
"I'm shivering with expectation." Harry purred.
"So, is that a yes?" Draco asked.
"I guess so." Harry nodded. "I doubt you'll let go of the idea anytime soon, right?"
"Of course not. It's a brilliant idea. But then, it is from me, so it has to be."
Harry simply sighed. There he was, stuck with his former arch enemy who turned out to be just as bad as Hermione when it came down to push him into doing something he didn't want to. Though currently, it seemed to be the better deal.
To Harry, it seemed as if the week had just flown by. He couldn't control it, but he felt almost giddy. He had tried to suppress it, to sink down into his now familiar dark hole called mood. Why would I feel so happy? Maybe he should have tried Draco as a friend from the very beginning. Draco's own arrogance made him almost immune to any hero complex, like that of a certain Weasel, and the darker sides of him were becoming strangely, well, attractive might be the word.
Was I turning dark, evil? His classmates certainly felt that way. It was a good thing he only spent sleeping in the Gryffindor Tower these days and left before the rest would wake up, and come back when they were fast asleep. They couldn't understand him, and certainly would never do. They are so stuck in their ideas of heroism and chivalry, that one thing would remain a vague and strange concept: The Dark side does not play fair and nice. Whenever he saw Sirius fall behind the curtain he was made painfully aware of it. It had been a likely conjecture that he would be outlawed by them. It still hurt him to know he was right. And he just hadn't seen it for all these years…
Draco understood. He had seen to much of the Dark, been to much in contact with it to remain in this state of blissful ignorance the Gryffindors choose to stay. But maybe these feelings for Draco had a different source? Maybe today he would find out.
He looked once again in the mirror and a crooked smile grew on his face. Wearing black trousers, a black silk shirt, that hugged closely to his muscular frame, completed by a burgundy velvet jacket, he looked very stylish, almost like those dandies of past times. His black hair flowed down the sides of his head and made his face look like it was sculpted out of alabaster with emeralds for eyes. The familiar form of Chien-Liu was wrapped around his right arm under the jacket.
All in all very pleasing. Why he had gone to such lengths for his looks, he didn't know. But he wasn't about to change that now.
He walked out of his room and down the staircase. Downstairs, several Gryffindors were making preparations to go out to Hogsmeade as well. Unfortunately, there was one group still present.
"Oh, look," Ron immediately shouted, "it's the Dark Lord going out for a date!" He didn't even try to hide his derision. "We're not good enough for you, but ferret face isn't huh? Hope you enjoy your little date!" He could have ignored his anger. He could have played the wise and fair grown-up and just walked out of the common room. But he wasn't in the mood for it.
In an instant, he was face-to-face with Ron, Hermione right by his side.
"Listen," Harry hissed, "listen closely. Insult me again, and you will suffer. Insult him again, and you will suffer. Cross my path again, and you will suffer. I'm not joking, trust me. I will ignore it for this time, but the next time I won't be as lenient. You should learn where your place is, Ronald. The quicker you do the better for you." Without another word, Harry turned around and strode out of the common room. As he crossed the portrait hole, he could make out an eruption of voices. Though one thing still hung in his mind. A date? It isn't…is it?
He waited in front of the Great Hall for Draco and when he arrived, he was transfixed. Dressed in black cord trousers, a white turtleneck sweater and a black leather jacket, he simply looked gorgeous. Gorgeous? Did I just think that?
"Ready?" Draco's voice ripped him from his dream world.
"Eh, yeah, sure."
Together they walked out of Hogwarts, ready for the fun of Hogsmeade.
Erald Nalfayn was a very patient man. He had spent weeks hunting for Siberian tigers, crouched through African tundra to kill a lion; mere days of inactivity didn't mean anything to him. When the alarm charm notified him of his prey's presence, he just deactivated it, calmly, efficiently, without wasting a single movement of the hand.
A child. An unprepared one. It was almost too easy. The fact that it was the son of Lucius Malfoy didn't mean anything to him. He was a hunter, a killer. Not someone interested in politics and the inner workings of the Dark Lord's court.
But his prey wasn't alone. As he watched through his spyglass, he saw another young man walk besides him. He assessed him, but wasn't found worth noticing. Just a useless, arrogant waste of a wizard as the young Malfoy, too caught up in his clothing than in the world around him. Cackling, he made his final preparations. Soon it would be over and he would get his reward.