Disclaimer: Like earlier: I don't own HP. sigh
A/N: This fic is slash! Don't like, don't read! Pairings: HP/DM; any others I take a fancy too! Also, this fic is post Half-Blood Prince. I, in my absolute power, have decided that for this fic, I must CHANGE THE ENDING! So, yes, Dumbledore is still dead, but instead of Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy killing him it was… Ron and Hermione! Yes! Rather quite dreadful, don't you say? I just never really liked them.
A/N #2: Please review! I would really appreciate it.
Summary: After Harry and Snape decide to join forces, they try to persuade Draco to join them as well.
Harry Potter and the Four Horcruxes: Chapter Two
Authored By: The Legendary Black Beast of Argh
In our last installment, we had spoken of balances many, many times. So many, in fact, that it was starting to get annoying. In spite of this fact, we are going to talk about them again right now.
Draco Malfoy dearly loved his balance. Everything had a time and a place, and by god, those things were going to abide by that. It was his golden rule. But, sadly, due to many different recent events, this carefully maintained rule was a bit mussed up. His father was still in Azkaban, but that didn't really matter. Since his father was out of his hair, it meant no Dark Mark for him. Come on, that nasty thing would ruin his skin tone. His mother was absolutely loving it--- she was spending lots of her time redecorating the manor and getting new gardens and wardrobes. He had never seen her so full of life.
The biggest thing that had wrecked his life was Dumbledork dying. Stupid Weasel and Know-It-All Granger. Dumbledore was the only thing keeping Hogwarts safe, and now with him gone, Voldemort was due to attack the ancient castle anytime. Draco hated thinking about it- all the innocent students that would be hurt or killed.
See, Draco wasn't like his dear father, who pledged his life to a raving lunatic. Draco wanted to go and make something out of his life. Create a spell or charm to save one from death, a potion to heal every ailment, something to benefit wizardkind. Yes, he had a bad attitude, could be absolutely horrifically mean, and was a Slytherin, but he wasn't all bad.
During Dumbledore's funeral, he had cried a few actual tears. Not very many, but they were real. Then, he had glanced at the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Annoy-Him's face, and saw one lone tear trickle out of his eye. The tear trailed down his cheek, leaving a salty path, then dying on his lips. This reminded him of a quote he had seen in his father's journal, written in his mother's hand: If I had one wish, I would wish to be your tear, so I could be born in your eye, live down your face, and die on your lips. He had always thought it a silly quote, but now he understood it. As he watched the Gryffindor Golden Boy fight his inner emotions, he felt –actually felt- sorry for him. But all understanding vanished the next day at the last breakfast in the Great Hall.
"Lost your two fans?" Draco asked snidely as he sauntered by Harry. "I hope you find them soon." His upper lip curled as he smirked to himself. He turned to see Harry close his eyes and shake his head sadly.
Harry couldn't believe it. In hours time, Snape would be asking Draco to join them in the journey to find the remaining Horcruxes. It was unknown how long it would take. Weeks, probably not. Months, more probable. A year or more: Likely. Harry sighed, gazing around his house table. Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, friends since first year, were chatting quietly. Ginny and Luna, who had moved over from her Ravenclaw table, were talking and giggling, surprisingly. His eyes flicked to the professor's table. Professor McGonagall had finally taken the seat of Headmistress, and was seated beside Professor Snape, who with she was in a deep conversation. Sprout and Flitwick were discussing plants, judging by the movements of Sprouts' hands. Harry smiled a little. Flitwick was probably asking her if he could charm more of her plants--- they had came up with an unusual tree that actually grew Knuts, Sickles, and Galleons. There was only one though, and Sprout had it locked up in Greenhouse 8, where she kept her most dangerous and valuable plants.
"Mr. Potter." A voice behind him said, somewhat softly, but Harry heard it loud and clear. He turned to face Snape. "We need to discuss our plans with Mr. Malfoy." Harry nodded.
"Yeah, can we do it after breakfast, at around nine?" Snape looked to be deeper in thought than usual. All the other students would be sent home after breakfast this morning, but Harry and Draco were not. Draco didn't know this, of course, he had not been told.
"Yes, that will be sufficient. Be at my office then. I will inform Draco."
Harry had known for a long time that Snape was Malfoy's godfather. Dumbledore had told him in third year, for some odd reason. He had a fleeting thought to ask Dumbledore about it later, but cut himself short. He still had not fully realized that he was really gone. Well, his portrait was still here, he could talk to him there. A sense of loss filled him, and it felt like there was a great gaping hole in the bottom of his heart, and all of the happiness that was left was leaking out. Harry sighed, looking at the weird wizarding clock on the wall. It read 8:43 A.M. He decided that it was time to head up to Snape's, he liked it when people showed up early. Sometimes he would yell, but then again, he had the worst mood swings.
He picked up his bag and headed up there, waving at Ginny and Luna, who smiled cheerfully at him.
Nearly-Headless-Nick glided up beside him. "Good afternoon, young Potter," Nick said sorrowfully.
"Hullo, Nick," Harry said, somewhat cheerfully, though he still felt like a pile of dragon dung. "What's up?"
Nick glided through a second-year, who started shivering violently, wrapping his arms around himself. "Oh, nothing much. The other ghosts are talking about leaving the castle--- the Bloody Baron already has."
Harry's eyebrows rose so far that they almost disappeared into his hair. "Really? I thought ghosts couldn't leave here." He looked over at Nick. "Where'd he go?"
"Oh, we can go anywhere," Nick said breezily. "We're not forced to stay anywhere." He paused, tapping his chin with a transparent finger. "I think he went to the Shrieking Shack."
Harry nodded. "That seems like him. What about the other ghosts?"
"I might go to the Tower of London--- where I was beheaded, of course," Nick said distastefully. "The others will be staying here."
"Oh," Harry said. Hogwarts wouldn't be the same without the two famous ghosts. "Well, wherever you wind up at, good luck."
Now it was Nick's turn to raise his eyebrows. "Will you not be returning to the school?"
Harry shook his head slowly, walking down the stairs to the dungeons. "'Fraid not," he said sadly. "Got some business to take care of."
Nick nodded. "I understand. Good luck to you as well, Harry Potter." And with that, he disappeared into the wall, leaving Harry in front of Snape's foreboding door. He took a deep breath, and knocked.
"Enter!" Snape bellowed, back to his usual intimidating self.
"Professor Snape, sir." Harry said, nodding his head as he walked in and close the door. "Malfoy," Harry said, as he saw the teen sitting beside Snape.
"Potter," Malfoy said.
How is it that he can smirk in his voice? Harry thought idly.
"Professor Snape has been, ah, briefing me on your next trip." Finished Malfoy snidely. "I will not be joining you."
Harry opened his mouth, but Snape interrupted him. "Draco, it would be wise for you. You can escape your danger with the Dark Lord if you come."
Malfoy nodded. "That is true, but I don't know if I can stand being around Potty for so long."
"You know what? Fine! Malferret doesn't have to come!" Harry half-yelled at Snape, then rounded on Malfoy. "When Voldemort comes and tortures you to death, it'll be your own fault!"
Malfoy frowned at this. "You think Voldemort can get me, Scarhead? Pssh."
"Do you know anything of how he finds his victims?" Harry hissed, taking a few steps towards Malfoy. "First, he torments them with nightmares that seem real, then he possesses you, and makes you kill people. Then, he kills you by torturing you. Cuts your tongue out first, then each of your fingers and toes- slowly. Then he cuts your throat out, and rips your legs off so you slowly bleed to death. Nice, huh?" Harry was basically yelling his words, and Malfoy was almost half as pale as he usually was.
"He really does this?" He managed to choke out to Snape, who nodded grimly.
"Only for those who irritate him a little bit." Harry said darkly.
Malfoy gulped. "Okay fine," he said, regaining his composure. "Since I am the best curse breaker," He finished, his nose in the air.
"Lower your nose, or you'll drown," Muttered Harry. Snape smirked.
"Tomorrow," Snape said, "We pack and plan. Day after that, we leave."