AN: Apologies for the delays. Blame it on work, summer school, or marriage, or getting a new comp without a word processor… Whatever, one more chapter after this one.

I stormed into the headmaster's office once I was certain Ms. Parkinson would be taken care of. I was a little surprised to see him actually in his office, but I wasn't going to complain.

"I know who's behind these attacks." I stated as calmly as I could, given the situation. Dumbledore just raised an eyebrow to stare at me. I took this as my cue to continue. "Given who remains at large after Voldemort's fall, and the fact that Pansy Parkinson was the ring leader of this raid, it could only be Draco Malfoy."

I was shocked when Dumbledore scoffed at my suggestion. "Come now, Ethan. You and he might have been rivals in school, but he wouldn't be one to attack children. He's on the Board of Governors for the school, and he had no connection with Voldemort's last rise."

I wanted to point out to the older man that Lucius Malfoy had been on the Board of Governors as well, but kept my mouth shut. Instead, I took a deep breath to compose myself. "If he has no connection with this, then he shouldn't mind being put under veritaserum. We'll be able to eliminate him from the list of suspects and possibly get other leads."

The headmaster steepled his fingers and looked me in the eye. "And why don't we just put Ms. Parkinson under veritaserum? If she was leading the party she would surely know who was leading the Neo Death Eaters, and we wouldn't have to risk offending any high ranking wizards."

I resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling a head ache coming on. So that's what this was about. Albus had obviously had enough trouble from Malfoy Sr. and didn't want to provoke anything if he could avoid it. It was ridiculous, because the headmaster had weathered more from Lucius than he son could ever dish out.

"I've already taken the liberty to question Pansy under the truth serum and she won't refer to her master as anything other than Master." Dumbledore made a move to comment, but I cut him off. "Even under direct questioning. This leader is being more careful than Voldemort, and Parkinson admitted that he was more interested in creating turmoil at the moment than in taking over the wizarding world."

"Alright," the headmaster conceded. "We will invite him in for voluntary questioning. If he refuses, you will not pursue him until all other avenues have been exhausted. If he accepts, I will not allow you to be present during the questioning."

I nodded in acceptance, with no intention of following the headmaster's directions. If Malfoy didn't have something to do with this I would eat my wand.

I obeyed Albus' wishes and wasn't there for the questioning, but it didn't mean I wasn't going to listen in to what was being said. There was too much at stake if something was missed, and so I took note of everything that was said, convinced Draco Malfoy was the key to unravelling the mystery.

"Mr. Malfoy, I'm very sorry that I had to see you in these circumstances. Though you are not a suspect, we want to make sure that nothing of the sort happens again." The headmaster's voice was calm and grandfatherly.

"I understand, Headmaster," Draco replied, voice dripping with false sincerity. "I was distraught when I found out one of Hogwarts' own professors was attacked in suck a vicious way."

I nearly choked in disbelief. How could that bastard lie with such a straight face. To him, Hermione was just a filthy mudblood, and he couldn't care less what happened to her. I resisted the urge to scream and continued eavesdropping.

"Alright, we should get this started so that you can get back to your day. I assume you're accustomed to the practices of veritaserum, so I won't bore you with it again."

"Just get along with it. I have a pressing meeting with my attorney after this and I would hate to keep her waiting."

I assume Albus administered the potion before he began asking basic questions. "What is your name?"

"Draco Malfoy," the blonde replied. His lack of a middle name was my first hint that he wasn't a stranger to the truth serum.

"Where did you go to school?"

"Hogwarts, in Slytherin House."

"What is your age?"

"Twenty-four."

"Alright," Dumbledore began, "Noting that the potion is working, we shall begin the questioning. Where were you yesterday afternoon when Hogsmead was attacked?"

"At Malfoy Manor preparing for a meeting with my fellow Board of Governors."

"Do you have any knowledge of who was behind the attack?"

"I was told it was an attack by the new group of Death Eaters, but that no one knows for sure who leads them, nor who, aside from Parkinson, was involved."

The answer seemed to satisfy the headmaster, because he continued moving on. As for me, it left a churning feeling in my stomach.

"Can you tell us where your father is?" the headmaster asked, ploughing on.

"You asked me after the war when you first lost track of him. I will continue to tell you that I do not now, and even if I did, I would be disinclined to join him."

Dumbledore seemed to take what he said at face value, and left it at that. "Very well Mr. Malfoy. I appreciate you coming in to talk to us, and I'm sorry for your inconvenience."

Draco stood up and was administered the antidote. "I assume this will be the last time someone calls me in for unfounded questioning."

"Yes, Draco, and I do appreciate you being so cooperative."

I groaned when I heard this. I didn't for one minute believe Malfoy was being completely honest, though I couldn't at the moment prove he was being dishonest. I could only stew and hope more information would come forward without having to endure the torture or, Merlin forbid, death of more friends.

"So, not only have my followers attacked without my permission, but one of my minions has been captured because of your folly."

"We apologize, Master. We believed the orders came from you. Indeed, Parkinson usurped your leadership in hopes of regaining your favour due to past mistakes."

"This blunder certainly will not help. If the authorities do not turn her to the Dementors after her questioning, I will certainly make sure her life is most… unpleasant."

I woke up repeatedly throughout the night, a sinking feeling in my stomach. I was positive something was wrong, but for the life of me couldn't tell what it was. I refused to go to the Headmaster to discuss things with him. The ease I felt with him as a child was most definitely no longer there after his disregard of my information.

Because of this, I decided I'd wander the castle to perhaps clear my head. Slipping out of Severus' arms, I pulled on some casual clothing and slipped out of his room. As I prowled the halls I couldn't shake the sinking feeling I kept getting. Not knowing what to do, I returned to my own rooms to try and get some sleep, and if not, get some work done.

When I went to my classes I was feeling more haggard than I had in a long while, and the feeling that something was off still hadn't left me. It remained with me the entire week, and I continued to get little to no sleep.

Come Friday, I felt like a zombie, and even my students were beginning to pick up on it. It might have been the fact that I was starting to let them go earlier and earlier. I was looking forward to getting away from Hogwarts that weekend to visit Sirius and Remus in hopes of getting away from whatever was nagging me, but an emergency meeting was called for all of the staff members.

I was last to arrive, most likely because I was the last to receive the notice, but no one truly noticed.

"As you all know, I've questioned Draco Malfoy about any information he might have, but I believe we can rule him out as a suspect," the headmaster was saying as I entered the room.

"Are there any other's that might be implicated in the attack?" another professor asked.

"What about Malfoy Sr? He disappeared after the last war, and it would have been a perfect opportunity to reinvent himself as the new Dark Lord."

I nearly choked at the idea. There was no way the blond aristocrat could be behind any of this. I got a large number of strange looks because of this.

"What's so funny, Ethan?" both Dumbledore and Severus asked at the same time. If anyone noticed Serverus' use of my first name, the implications were lost over the curiosity for my amusement.

"Lucius Malfoy is dead," I stated bluntly. There were murmurs of what and how from my fellow professors, and as I bore their stares, I answered the confusion. "I killed him, the same night I…"

Albus tried to silence me with an "Ethan, no," but I plowed on.

"The same night I killed Voldemort."

There were gasps of shock and disbelief, but only two people actually understood what I was saying. Hermione and Severus looked at me, their expressions hurt and angry respectively. At the same time, they both stated, "Harry…"

(Flashback)

In hindsight, trying to storm the Death Eater's hideout single- handed probably wasn't one of the smartest things I'd ever done. In fact, there was no probably about it. It was by far my stupidest decision. Whoever came up with the rule that rage clouded judgement was right on the mark.

I am pleased to say that whoever stated that rage was a powerful motivator was also correct. Before they were able to take me down and subdue me I was able to take out half a dozen of my black cloaked, white masked attackers; nearly half their numbers.

When I awoke I found myself surrounded by four equally bare stone walls, held together by mortar, without any windows; your archetypal dungeon. Exactly what you'd expect the bad-guys to have in their basement. In a way it was somewhat disappointing. I was almost expecting more from them; maybe a little ring of fire, or a moat filled with basilisk venom… Well, maybe the latter was a little too much to hope for, but a stone cell was a little, shall we say underwhelming.

Of course, half of my ideas there were more than likely induced by the wounds I'd received by my none-to-accommodating captors. Some of the cuts were too deep for comfort, festering, and on top of the fevers, the pain was causing me to be delirious… At one point in my incoherent dreaming I could have sworn I'd talked to Cedric, and he didn't blame me for killing him.

People came and went from the cell, some bringing me food, some casting mild healing spells to make sure I didn't die prematurely. I'm sure the Dark Lord was waiting for the Summer Equinox to kill me. Whatever dark and nefarious ritual he was planning would most likely be at it's height during that time… either than or he was going to wait for the winter equinox and I was going to be stuck in the cell for months before I finally met my maker.

The most memorable visits were the ones from Lucius Malfoy. They stood out in my mind even more than the occasional appearance by Voldemort when he came to gloat.

"Oh how the mighty have fallen, Potter," he would state, running his long, taloned fingers down my arm. Or he would say, "It's a pity to think what you might have become," as he grabbed my chin to force me to look into his eyes.

But Lucius was different from the others. He didn't gloat, or taunt, or try to beat me. Instead, he would stand in the doorway as though watching a dangerous beast, and try to justify his actions, or the cause…

"What we do is ultimately for the good of our society," he told me once when he got more comfortable in my company. He was sitting against one wall while I lay against the other, staring at him impassively. "Our strength is dwindling, and we need to keep our bloodlines strong. The more Muggle blood we bring in, the more dilute our magic becomes until the majority of wizards are born no better than squibs."

He spoke as though he was trying to convince himself he was right. I watched him, unblinking, as he sounded his ideas off on me. Weeks must have gone by before my unwavering stare must have gotten to him. The breakdown wasn't an immediate thing, but in my own state, I didn't notice it happening until it was over.

"I did it for Narcissa," he claimed in a last ditch effort to defend himself. "Her family was immersed in the dark arts, and what better way to prove myself than to become a high standing member of Voldemort's Death Eaters. It worked well for so long too. I almost could convince myself what we were working towards was the right thing… But everything changed when Draco was born, and then when the Dark Lord fell for the first time. I thought I would be able to get away, but his grip on his followers was too strong. He came back, and it was either join him or watch my son be tortured and killed. I did my best to keep Draco from joining either side, so now I figure, either Voldemort wins, my family lives, and things go on as they are, or he loses, I die, and my family remains safe. At this point I no longer care…"

It sounded like the ramblings of a drunk man to me half the time, and the other half I couldn't even make out what he was saying. It wasn't until I heard his last line, 'I no longer care' that I realized, Hey! I do care!

He might not care of the outcome of this war, or whether he lives or dies, but I certainly did! There were too many people who'd sacrificed their lives so that I could go on. There were too many people who'd died at the hands of Tom Riddle and this defeated blonde in front of me. And let us not forget the prophecy, that I was to destroy the Dark Lord, because I sure as hell wasn't going to let him destroy me.

I don't think the elder Malfoy realized I was moving from my prone position until I was up and lunging at him, my hands searching for his neck. There was a little struggle, but for some reason he didn't call out for help or pull his wand. I came out on top, my hands encircling his neck as I slowly strangled the life from him.

I didn't release my grip until his skin became cold and grey. I couldn't tell you how long I sat like that, but it was enough time for his body to stiffen. I didn't think about it as I felt his robes for his wand. Once I had it in my hands, I decided I might as well take his robes and mask as well. Exchanging out clothes, I moved his ridged body to the wall and hoped it looked enough like me that no one would notice him until it was too late.

Closing the door behind me, Lucius' wand in my hand, I looked down the hallway to see if anyone was coming. Then I was moving, searching for Voldemort, ready for the final battle. There would be no wand interference this time…

(END)

I could still feel Lucius' clammy skin under my fingers as I remember that, or the way his eyes rolled to the back of his head when it was finally done. A wave of sickness washed over me. I'd nearly forgotten that memory until now, having been pushed to the back of my mind by the memories of my final battle with Voldemort.

I slowly became aware of the disbelieving stares of my colleagues , but as soon as I did I noticed one thing. Severus was no long in the room…

I'd just blown everything, and we were not closer to figuring out who was leading the Neo Death Eaters, especially if you ruled out Draco, which I wasn't entirely prepared to do…

Kestor laughed heartily at the joke one of his companions told while he used the other to hold himself upright as they walked. He'd gone out to the bar for a good time, and had certainly found it, almost able to ignore the heartache he'd felt at Ethan's rejection.

The one man who was joking around had about the same build as Ethan, while the other had the same personality. He wasn't necessarily interested in replacing his past lover, but he figured he had to be interested in Ethan for something, whether looks or personality, and this was a good enough way to find out.

Planting a kiss on the one man's cheek, he then laughed at the other, before they almost literally bumped into a couple walking down the street. As he stumbled back , slightly drunk but still able to keep his balance, Kestor offered his heartfelt, if slurred apologies, the two men with him laughing as he did.

He began to notice things were going wrong when the two people remained quiet, taking a step forward and reaching into their pockets. He almost laughed when they pulled out thin pieces of wood.

Kestor wondered if this was some kind of joke, until the couple pointed the sticks at his companions and they just… left him, without saying good bye or anything. He was left alone with the two, now menacing, people. He instantly sobered up, taking in their appearances. He could see they were wearing long robes with hoods that covered their faces.

He took a step back, intent on running, but suddenly found that he couldn't move.

"You shouldn't have been involved in this," one of the figures said quietly, advancing on him.

"We didn't want to involve Muggles at all," the other continued.

"This was between us and the Order, but a lesson needs to be taught to those who interfere."

Kestor tried to protest that they had the wrong person, but he couldn't get his mouth to work either.

"Don't worry," said the first figure, "this won't hurt a bit…"

"Avada Kedavra!"

AN: It sucks, I know… review anyway? One more chapter after this one. I want to get it over with that's why it's rushed.