Disclaimer time - ok . . .blah, blah no, I do not own Draco (much to my great dismay), Hermione or any other characters you may recognize, if I did the movies would get far more interesting, trust me. I need to say thanks to, Heather, my amazing beta reader, who brings a sense of order to my overly excessive use of adverbials, an almost obsessive impulse to insert commas and the ever-irresistible run-on sentences, I'm so fond of, and without whom this story wouldn't be nearly as readable ;) In regards to the lemon chapter – FFnet has apparently disabled viewing email addresses in reviews, so some people who wanted the uncut version didn't (also some of your addies just didn't work). It sucks and so I've come up with yet ANOTHER solution that will hopefully work so deleting the spaces go to http : www . livejournal . com / users / kelticsoul / 84109 . html (my lj, if you need to, click on the hyperlink). If this is a problem for anyone, let me know & I'll see what else I could do. And of course, any typos & grammatical errors are, as usual, my fault . . . sorry. Anyway, such a long AN – I'm sorry, let's get back into the story . . .

Chapter 32 – Seeds of Corruption

Walking back to Hogwarts, Ron cast a wary glance at Harry, unable to believe how interested, hell downright enthusiastic, his friend was about working with deatheaters . . . fucking deatheaters. "Why can't you see how disastrous an idea this is?"

"Look, Ron, if you don't want to help me with this, then you don't have to, but I am going through with it. I don't trust this guy Gage or Pansy, so whatever plans they have for Draco are their business. I just want him away from Hermione and they can help me – that's all I care about." Ron wanted to smack himself in his head, unable to believe that they were actually having this conversation.

"Harry, look, I get that you care about Hermione, but isn't this a bit excessive? Come on, you have a girlfriend after all, and really, man, she is with Draco, apparently happy. Now I don't pretend to understand that, but it's reality and you've got to learn to accept it, deal with it and move on. Besides we're talking about working with known deatheaters – aiding and abetting deatheaters, which if you've forgotten is a crime that could land you in fucking Azkaban!!! This isn't breaking Hogwarts rules, or underage magic anymore, this is serious."

"As far as I know, neither of them are wanted by the Ministry of Magic, so working with them isn't technically illegal. And it's not like I'm stupid. I'm not going to get myself caught up in anything that risky. I just want Hermione to see what she's gotten herself involved in and once that's done, I'm out. No harm, no foul."

"No harm, no foul?!?! What the fuck does that mean? Are you even listening to yourself?" Ron exploded, turning to stare at Harry, who just walked on, seemingly unconcerned.

"I'm going to break up with Pavarti and then after this is all over, Hermione will dump Draco and then maybe . . . "

"Then maybe what? You think Hermione is going to want to go out with you after all this?" He shook his head in disbelief. "You're not thinking clearly, Harry."

"What would you like me to do, Ron? Wait for Draco to use Hermione against me and watch her get hurt? Well, I won't do it. For too many years, I've waited for things to happen first before fighting back, and people have gotten hurt for it. But this time I'm going to strike first. You don't have to help me, or even understand, but you had better not get in my way." Harry continued walking, never even turning around to see Ron's aghast expression.

Ron walked aimlessly through the hallways trying to remember where the hell Sirius' room was. It was times like this that he wished that his brothers had given him the Marauders Map, he was only related to them by blood after all. He had spent most of last night and today trying to figure out a way to make Harry see that this was one adventure doomed to failure, but he was just too bloody stubborn. Sometime during Potions class, he'd gone into damage control mode. If he couldn't talk Harry out of this, then it was time to find someone who could. The Ministry was obviously out, he didn't want Harry arrested and he thought about going to Dumbledore but vetoed that idea, leaving only Harry's godfather.

After the scare with him falling behind the veil in the Hall of Mysteries a few years back, the two of them were tighter than ever before. Harry would kill him for this, but the idiot was still his best friend. Ron was sure saving the said friend fell somewhere under the job description, even if it was from his own bout of insane stupidity. If nothing else he hoped that he'd survive long enough to see Sirius smack some sense into Harry. It would make these last few weeks worthwhile, assuming, of course, that he could find the stupid room. He stopped randomly at the nearest door, which looked exactly like all the other doors he had passed by and his foot independently shot out, kicking the door in frustration.

"What-the-bloody-fuck?!?!"

Ron's eyes widened as he heard someone angrily cursing behind the door he had just kicked. He suddenly turned and started quickly walking back down the hallway, trying to flee the scene of the crime, before the person fumbling behind the door opened it and caught him. Unfortunately he was in the middle of long corridor, with no nearby corner to duck around.

"Ron . . . Ronald Weasly? Why the hell are you kicking my door?"

Hearing his name, he winced, before the voice registered. Somehow he had managed to actually find Sirius' door. Quickly turning around, he almost laughed at the ill fitting baby-tee the man was wearing that read, 'Devil Doll,' before he caught the glowering expression on his face. Hoping to head off the impending argument, he gestured to the shirt and asked, "Devil Doll?"

Sirius opened his mouth to interrogate the Gryffindor, only to stare at him blankly for a moment, his words forgotten "What?" He sputtered out confusedly, looking down and shaking his head ruefully. "Yeah umm . . . well the shirt isn't mine, obviously." He began, before interrupting himself, "Wait, why am I explaining myself to you?" Seeing the young man about to open his mouth, he sighed loudly. "It was a rhetorical question, Ron. But never mind that, would you care to explain exactly why you're trying to kick my door down?"

"Well, I didn't really mean to kick your door, although I was looking for you. I've got to tell you what Harry is planning to do. Hopefully you can find a way to stop him, because Merlin knows that he won't listen to me." Ron didn't even want to touch the subject of whose shirt it may or may not belong to, deciding a 'don't ask, don't tell policy' would be the wisest course to follow.

"What is my favorite godson up to? A new Quidditch game plan?" Sirius couldn't imagine something so dire that the two friends wouldn't be able to resolve on their own. And to be honest, he had more interesting things to do than to have to mediate an argument between the two of them.

"Ha, I wish. No, it's a helluva a lot worse than that." Ron's head suddenly swung back and forth, scanning the area for any possible eavesdroppers. He stepped closer, closing the distance between them, his voice lowering. "He's agreed to work on this crazy plan with Pansy Parkinson and some deatheater named Gage to try and break up Hermione and Draco."

"What?!?"

"Yeah, I know the feeling. I mean he's been fixated on Hermione and Draco for a while now. Maybe I should have been paying more attention, but I just thought that he was just regretting getting involved with Pavarti and crushing on Hermione. But I've been trying to talk him out of this stupid idea since last night and he's even more committed to it than ever. He told me that he's in love with her and will do anything to get rid of Malfoy. I'm afraid that he's finally lost it." Ron felt slightly guilty as if he was betraying his friend, but rationalized that he was doing the best thing for Harry, whether he liked it or not.

"Oh fuck. . . " Sirius ran his hand through already tousled hair. "You'd better come in then and tell me what's going on." He turned to open the door and paused, suddenly thinking for a moment. "Umm, actually, wait here for a second . . . I'll be right back, ok?" Without waiting for a response, he turned and slipped inside the room. Ron could hear him faintly talking to someone and random noises like stuff being thrown around, before the door reopened. Sirius popped out, now wearing a black t-shirt and herded Ron inside the room with one arm before securely locking the door behind them.

Draco finally tracked Hermione down in the library, buried behind a pile of books. Leaning one elbow on the nearest stack, he snagged the book from under her. His smirk faded, as he caught glimpse of what she had been intently researching. Slamming the book shut on the table, his eyes hardened into an almost vicious glare. "Who have you been talking to, Hermione, because I know damn well that I never told you the name of the spell." His voice was flatly dispassionate.

Damnit, and she was so close too . . . Hermione closed her eyes, wincing slightly, sometimes her curiosity got the best of her at the most inopportune of moments. Time to think fast. "Ok, I know this looks bad, but when you were telling me about the spell, it sounded vaguely familiar. I wanted to know more, but the memory seemed to disturb you so much – and rightfully so, and well I didn't want to upset you further by prying and you know me . . . " Her voice trailed off as the look in his eyes changed from downright chilly to absolutely artic. Fuck, he wasn't going to buy it.

"Nice try, Granger, but I was very careful in what I said to you. There are easily a dozen of spells I can name off the top of my head that would fit the description I gave you. Considering that it's a rarely used and extremely obscure Dark Arts spell, not even you would have had enough time to narrow it down so specifically without someone telling you more. I want to know who, what they said and I want to know now." His voice was deathly soft and that made his demand seem all the more menacing.

She swallowed deeply, trying not to let on how intimidated she really was at that moment. Granted, she had known that he wouldn't be pleased by her digging around in his past without warning him in advance and this was a particularly sensitive subject, but she certainly hadn't expected to see this side of his mercurial personality quite so soon. And right then, she could have smacked herself in the head. While Hermione certainly wouldn't go so far as to call herself an expert on her new lover's moods, she realized that this might very well be something that he would see as a betrayal, especially considering last night.

He leaned back slightly on his heels, trying to leash back his temper, because there was always the distinct possibility that this was totally innocent, but as much as he tried, he found that idea difficult to believe. His tightly clenched fist kept his hand safely away from his wand, while he waited impatiently for the truth to come out. Don't lie to me again, Hermione, do whatever you ever you want, but please don't lie to me. I can't take that from you, I won't. He tried to keep the faith, but a voice in the back of his head reminded him that she looked so guilty, staring back at him her cinnamon eyes opened wide with the slightest trace of panic. "I won't repeat myself."

Blinking suddenly like a deer caught in headlights, she shook her head, breaking eye contact with him. "It's not like that Draco. I wasn't really looking for information, I had planned on researching it, yes, but I never even thought to ask anyone else and even if it had occurred to me, I wouldn't have. Dumbledore approached me and insisted on talking about it." She caught his startled expression and continued, her voice growing stronger with her anger, nodded her head even as she confirmed his suspicion. "Yes, Draco, he knew. He told me that he was aware of it while it was happening, but couldn't intervene because as he put it there are 'certain events that we simply cannot interfere with,' whatever that means." She raised her chin scornfully.

"Justification is what it means, a way to rationalize the shameful," his voice was completely flat and detached from any number of emotions she would have expected from him. "I should be surprised, really, but what the hell, I'm almost used to playing the pawn nowadays. What else did he say?" The icy remoteness of his demeanor was more disturbing to her than his near explosion of a few seconds ago.

"Not much, really. He talked about how they failed to step in when they should have, and nothing more about Maddie, other than she died in the ritual." He nodded abstractly and she wasn't entirely certain if her words actually penetrated, but as always he didn't fail to surprise her.

"And now that you've had time to read up on the spell, I'm sure that you've been able to figure it out, haven't you, Hermione?. Such a clever girl you are and knowing you the way I do, I bet that you're wondering if its true, aren't you?" Despite himself, Draco couldn't stop the taunting note that crept into his voice, because this was it. She knew - she had to know. Hell, Crabbe and Goyle would be able to figure it out now. In retrospect, he was somewhat surprised that she hadn't run away yet.

"Ummm, if we're really going to have . . . this particular discussion," she looked around pointedly, "I think that we should definitely do it somewhere more private, don't you?"

"Oh by all means, if you're foolish enough to face the devil alone, then I'm more than willing. After all," he laughed sarcastically, "We wouldn't want to cause a riot of panicking students." Cynically smirking, he tilted his head slightly in a mocking near bow, "Ladies first."

Strolling out, they left the library positively abuzz with activity, as students turned to question each other, unable to contain their curiosity. Who needed soap operas or stories in The Quibbler, when for sheer entertainment value you couldn't beat the ups and downs of this relationship? A few brave souls darted to the now empty desk, still piled high with books and began flipping through them, trying to discover this apparently controversial spell. Madame Pince was having a fit, attempting to hush the many and now extremely talkative students, while trying to chase away those who were doing their best to sneak a peek at the books, before she could return them back to their proper places.

Meanwhile off in the stacks, lurking in a less than obvious aisle, Infinity had the sudden impulse to start bashing her head into the nearest wall. She had never expected this type of mission when she signed up to be an Auror, and wasn't sure what she was more worried about – having to fight He who shall remain nameless and his army of deatheaters or having to mediate the relationship between two volatile teenagers. Either way it was giving her an extraordinarily painful headache. Well, there was only one thing to do about that, she decided, going off to find Snape. If she had to worry about this, then it was only fair that she find someone to make suffer along with her.

Harry sat in his room, rubbing the bridge of his nose, wincing slightly. His ears were still ringing from the not so dulcet tones of Pavarti screaming at him. To say she took him breaking up with her badly was a ridiculously naive understatement. He shrugged, rolling his neck to loosen the tight muscles of his shoulders and upper back. One problem down and just a few more to go and then he'd have everything he wanted, finally. In a way, he mused, it was actually better with Ron's refusal to be involved, this way everything would be less messy in the end. Harry wouldn't go so far as to say that his friend was slow, but he didn't think the redhead had fully grasped certain intricacies in Gage's explanation, nor did he believe that Pansy did either.

This was going to get very ugly and Ron . . . well, he hadn't exactly learned to embrace the theory of the ends justifying the means in quite the same way that Harry had. The boy who lived suspected that when it all came down Ron would balk at permanently removing Draco from the equation, instead he was sure that Wealsey would give in to family pressure and want to send the Syltherin off to Azkaban. Harry wasn't willing to risk Malfoy escaping or continuing to build a base of power behind bars and, besides the Dementors had proven themselves to be untrustworthy. The only way to ensure everyone's safety was to kill all the deatheaters and anyone who might ally themselves with them.

In exchange for their assistance with this matter of Malfoy, Harry was willing to turn a blind eye to Pansy and Gage . . . for now anyway, he'd come after them as well before he was over. When he had first heard about Voldemorte and the overwhelming threat of the deatheaters, when he realized what they had done to his family and countless others, he had sworn vengeance. But now, he was after even more than that, this time he wanted revenge and would stop at nothing to achieve his aims.

Somewhere far outside the castle gates and deep within the Forbidden Forest, a tall rake-thin figure dressed in a long grey cloak with the hood pulled over it's face gave a darkly sinister laugh. The seeds of corruption had been planted deep within Potters mind and were now swiftly taking root in a way that even exceeded his expectations. Gage was beyond amused, because this was coming along easier than he had ever hoped. Pansy had for once followed his orders to the tee and had brought him 'the boy who lived.' The boy's heart was clouded with jealousy and his mind was fertile ground for the deatheater's schemes. The spell had been wildly successfully and as he lurked in a dark corner of the Gryffindor's mind, he was subtly manipulating him – tweaking an idea here, twisting an emotion there. He began walking out of the forest, preparing to apparate as soon as he had passed the boundary that restricted him, still laughing. Gage knew that he was going to enjoy this, destroying Draco was the culmination of nearly a lifetime of scheming, using with the wizarding world's 'golden boy' was just going to make it all the more delicious.

They wound up in Draco's room, of course. Hermione was on edge. Draco's behavior today had been unpredictable to say the least and she had the feeling that it was going to get worse before it got better, especially considering what damning information she had unearthed. She wanted to know the truth, of course, but once he confirmed it, she knew that there would be no turning back – once he told her, she'd have to make a decision that would change her life forever. The Gryffindor had already made her choice, but convincing Draco was going be the difficult part.

It was ironic, back in second year nearly everyone had suspected the truth, but when it had apparently been disproved, they had all forgotten it. If what she suspected was true and at this point, she didn't see any other logical answer, despite how much she wished, for his sake, that she could forget it. She wasn't sure how she felt about it personally, but knew that she couldn't dare let anything resembling that show through. Nothing else would cause him to completely withdraw from her faster. Truthfully, she was more afraid of his reaction than anything else, this was yet another secret that she suspected Draco had buried deep within his soul, choosing to forget than to actually deal with it. In most ways Draco was so strong, he had to be just to survive for so long in that house, but on another level he was almost brittle to her very touch. Lack of any real emotional connection over a lifetime had scarred him in ways that she was continually discovering. Maybe it should have scared her away, and it might have if she didn't see how hard he struggled to overcome them.

Balling up his robes, he tossed it into some far off and distant corner, before finally digging out an old Dead Kennedys t-shirt and pulling it on. He then threw himself onto an armchair, sprawling across it nearly horizontally, one long leg hanging off the side, his elbow propped up against the back, his head just out of her sight. Lighting a cigarette, Draco knew he was stalling for time, but figured sitting down would be infinitely better than pacing around the room as he was inclined to do. His free-hanging leg betrayed his restlessness, however, as it idly swung out, kicking the smooth leather of the chair.

"Draco?"

His head rose up slightly at her question, but he merely took a long drag and shrugged his shoulders carelessly.

"I thought you wanted to talk." Hermione forced a bite into her words.

"No, not really, but I doubt that you'd be willing to forget what you learned?" His voice trailed off for a moment and when she didn't respond, he sighed. "What do you want me to say? It's true - what you've found and what you've guessed."

Hermione winced whatever rage he had been working himself into while in the library was infinitely preferable to the almost dead quality in his voice. "Draco, I don't care about who your family is. "

He gave an ugly laugh that was bitter and cynical. "You say that now, but it's one thing to associate with a Malfoy. Only half of the Wizarding world hates us, it's entirely other thing to be seen with a relative of Voldemorte. If that ever comes out and anyone finds out that you even suspected, never mind actually knew and hid it from them, everyone will call you a traitor."

A swiftly inhaled breath was her only audible response. His declaration explained so many unanswered questions, while raising a whole new set of problems. In an odd way, she felt almost more comfortable, because what else could possible surprise her now? At least she'd finally know what she was dealing with and she could start planning ways to extricate them from this impossible situation.

And then she realized that not only had he gone silent, but that he still hadn't looked at her. She began walking towards him, when his next words caught her by surprise.

"If you were thinking about cutting your losses, I wouldn't blame you, but now would be the time. Before this, you could do no wrong, being one of the Golden Trio after all, you could still maintain plausible deniability – they'll forgive you for being taken advantage of by me."

Standing in front of him, she plucked his cigarette out of his mouth and dropped it into the nearby ashtray, then she pushed his leg off the arm of the chair and promptly sat down on his lap sideways. "I appreciate the concern, I really do, Draco, but I'm a big girl. I don't need you making decisions for me or trying to protect me. It's very sweet, but it's beginning to really piss me off. One of these days you're going to figure out that I'm here with you and that I have no intention of going anywhere."

Tilting his head to one side, he ran his hand through her hair, before pulling her into a tight hug. "You really have no sense of self-preservation at all, do you?" His words were slightly muffled as he pressed his face into the hollow of her neck.

"Should I even ask?"

"Nope, probably not."

Sitting down on a nearby chair, Ron struggled to keep a straight face. Despite the seriousness of what he came to discuss, the situation was . . . interesting to say the least. He had originally intended to only tell Sirius, but she had overruled Ron's objections, giving the older man an almost amused glance at the suggestion that this was private information. Damn, but this Madison Grimshaw had Sirius seriously whipped, and he shook his head ruefully. She paced around the small confines of the room, listening to Ron's story, while Sirius sprawled out on the hastily made bed, intermittently cursing.

"I don't like this, Sirius," she began when Ron was finished with his tale.

Shooting her a disbelieving glance, her lover cut her off, "Bloody hell no, neither do I! What the hell is that boy thinking that that he could get away with something like this?"

"No, that goes without saying." She rolled her eyes briefly at the stupidity of the male species, although whether she was specially annoyed at Harry, Sirius or both of them was left unanswered. "It's worse than you think. I know that you were out of touch with a lot of what was happening when you were locked up in Azkaban and you're too young to remember, Ron. But if this Gage is the person I'm thinking of, than Harry has gotten himself involved with a particularly dangerous and as far as I know an extremely active deatheater. The Ministry has brought him up charges a few times, but the witnesses always either recant or 'mysteriously vanish'."

Madison stopped to watch as they both digested her news. "Unfortunately, I was often off on research junkets, getting a copy of wizarding newspapers was always difficult, so I only remember the most sketchy of details." She shrugging, rifling a hand through her unusually colored hair. "In fact, the only reason he stands out in my memory was the type of spells that he was accused of committing." At their mutually interested expressions, she added, "Mostly a particularly nasty variety of blood magic along with the usual deatheater resume of offenses."

Her serious tone echoed the shocked expressions on their faces and Sirius' bit out exclamation of, "Fuck!" as he slammed a fist into the bed, summed up the general mood of the room.

"Can you tell me about it?"

Draco shrugged. "What's to tell? The Sacrum Haurire Ritual is pretty clear as I recall. You read it, you should know." He paused as she gave him a reproaching look and sighed, continuing. "It's intended to induce a possession of sorts, basically summoning the spirit and more importantly, at least in Lucius's eyes, their power into a living vessel. The catch is that you have to be a direct blood relation of whomever you're trying to summon and of course, if you're successful the consciousness of the vessel will be permanently and completed obliterated." His voice was neutral and level.

"But I thought your father was French."

"Oh he is, or at least he was brought up in France, but his mother, my grandmother was English, she only moved to France after her marriage." He shrugged, "From what I understand, there was some bad blood between the sisters and very little contact. Anyway, that makes Lucius Voldemorte's cousin and my second cousin, so aside from my father, of course, I'm his only living blood relation. Just another reason my father was able to rise so quickly to prominence in the deatheaters, since Voldemorte blames his mother for marrying a muggle. Lucius would never use the spell on himself for obvious reasons, but he wanted a tool he could control. The spell failed since as we know now, the bastard isn't quite dead yet."

"So if your mother knew what he was planning for her own child, why didn't she stop him?" She asked the question that had been bugging her since she had first heard about this.

"Narcissa?" He genuinely laughed, tinged lightly with disbelief. "She's nothing more than a living puppet and Lucius is her puppeteer. That's the problem with the Forbidden Curses - not only are they sadistic as fuck, but they are dangerous when used for a prolonged period of time. You've heard what happened to the Longbottoms after being tortured by Cructius, right? Well, he's used Imperius on her so often over the past thirty something years that it's destroyed any independent thought process. He broke her, Hermione, broke her in a way that can't ever be fixed, believe me I've tried."

He fell silent, carefully examining a strand of her hair, as if he was studying the color variations and took the opportunity to wrap an arm around him. "When I was younger, I didn't understand what was wrong with her or why she acted the way she did. Hell, there were times when I was ashamed of her, because I thought she was just slow. It was only later that I realized why she would sit and stare out the window when Lucius hadn't given her a specific order. Maddie was older and she knew, but would never tell me, instead she made up a story that mother was just sick, always sick. I even believed that for a while. I think I was seven when I first found a pensive with my mother, before she met Lucius. She was beautiful, lively and intelligent all the things I always wished that she'd be and he killed that in her. Just like he destroys everything that comes into his path"

Hermione wished she knew what to say to make him forget all the terrible atrocities his father was responsible for, but she knew too well that such words didn't exist. So instead, she just held him tighter, running a hand through his hair, silently comforting him. He didn't say it, but she suspected that Lucius wasn't the type to simply forget his grand scheme to gain control Voldemorte's power just because it didn't work the first time. Continuing along her trail of thought, she wondered again what the 'Day of Reckoning' was supposed to be and this was going to impact her and Draco's lives.

"So he told her . . . " Servus shook his head in disgust.

"Not everything, from what I gathered, but enough that she was able to find the spell. I'm sure Draco is filling her in on the rest even as we speak." Infinity all but jumped out of her chair to pace around, needing to move around as she spoke, the chair forgotten, unable to contain her frustration.

Slightly calmer, Snape watched her whip around the room at a dizzying pace. "It could always be worse, at least he didn't tell her about the prophecy."

Wheeling around, she turned to stare at him for a moment, flabbergasted. "What?!? How could you, of all people, say that? That's the one thing he could have told her that would have been even remotely useful."

"Who is talking nonsense now?" He arched an eyebrow, steadily staring her now.

"Nonsense?" Infinity was stunned into silence as she continued to stare at him, demanding an explanation.

Sighing, Servus abruptly stood up and walked over to one of his cabinets. After a moment, he pulled out a pensive and sat it down in front of her. "I know that you are aware of the prophecy, but if you'll recall our memories were wiped clean of the specifics, just in case of an event like this where we might be tempted to prematurely reveal it. The original copy is in the hall of mysteries, of course, but I took the liberty of placing it here beforehand. Perhaps it's time to refresh your memory."

Returning to his seat, he leaned back as her eyes darted from him to the pensive and back again. When she seemed hesitant, his jaw visibly tightened and he pushed it closer towards her, his eyebrows lowering in an expression that she knew knew from experience meant that it was futile to argue. Pulling a chair up to the table, she tentatively stretched out trembling fingers to touch the sphere and suddenly felt herself falling into a memory so vaguely familiar . . .

She saw herself, Snape, and Cassandra gathered closely together walking out into the bright light in front of the fountain, just outside of Hogwarts and realized that it was just after the her friends graduation ceremony. The three of them pulled into a tight circle as she saw other students she recognized including Remus, Sirius, James and Lilly walked by, while Dumbledore walked in and amid the various groups celebrating students. Watching from a distance she saw the longing looks from Remus that gave her seventeen-year-old self was oblivious to and felt a slight pang in her heart. Shaking off the emotion, she moved to the slightly isolated trio, off to the side, her mouth opened in surprise, marveling how terribly young they all looked. Walking past herself and her dark purple Mohawk, which as she argued at the time was very in and rebellious, she grimaced slightly at the foibles of youth.

She stopped in front of Cassandra and a bittersweet smile crossed her lips. Although she knew she was here for a specific purpose, she couldn't resist taking a moment to relish the sight of her dear friend, who had been taken away as a casualty of war, far too young. Blinking back her tears, Infinity forced herself to look away and focus back on her reason for being here. She looked over at herself, wearing her dress robes and Servus with his arm loosely slung over her shoulders. It was oddest sort of déjà vu, she mused idly, the scene teased the frayed edges of her memory, like white foam of a wave just about to break, but never quite falling. As they spoke, she knew recognized the words, nodding her head absently in agreement, expecting without really knowing the laughing replies.

Dumbledore caught her eye as the courtyard began to clear out, he was approaching to off his congratulations to Servus and Cassandra for graduating, she supposed. It should happen soon as she recalled. A faint smile crossed her lips as she watched Cassandra excitedly hugging the then-professor, while Servus was far more restrained, abruptly slid his arm back from around her shoulders to reach out and shake the older man's hand almost grudgingly. Infinity stepped closer in expectation and was not disappointed, when Cassandra suddenly went stiff and her eyes stared off into the distance as her voice became rough and harsh to the ear.

"on the second full moon, the dragon will be born

waiting deep in the shadows of the manor

until the dark lord shall rise again,

he alone holds the power to stem the tide

the last heir of Slytherin will live a life

misunderstood and die a death equally veiled

lose him and England itself

shall forever be lost in the darkness

the Dragon will protect that which

is most sacred to him,

giving his own life as the sacrifice,

to be rewarded in death and be reborn"

Infinity gasped in horror, as the words reverberated in her head, remembering at last what Snape had been trying to tell her. She absently observed Dumbledore quickly herding the small group back into Hogwarts and out of sight, although it didn't appear as if they had captured anyone's attention. When she suddenly found herself back in Snape's room, she was stunned, looking up him in silence, her eyes shining with unshed tears. He watched her soberly, a solemn expression on his face. "Oh Servus . . . how can we tell him that he's going to - ," her voice broke off as she threw herself into his waiting arms.

"Die?" He pausing, smoothing her hair with one as he held her tightly to him with the other. "Simple, Infinity, we're not going to tell him. That's why we're here after all, to do everything in our power to make sure it never comes to that."

"And if we can't, if it is his fate?"

"I've never believed that fate was unalterable and I refuse to begin now. Nor will I place that burden of knowledge upon him, what he needs is hope and reasons to live, rather than the expectation of death."

TBC

Ok . . . as usual, if you've left me your email, then I've added you to my mailing list for this story, so you get a happy little email each & every time I update, if you didn't get one, well obviously I don't have your email or I missed it somehow. If you review this chapter & leave your email in the review or I can get it off your profile, I will gladly add you. And don't forget . . . Reviewing is Good Karma! So please, read, enjoy & if you didn't hate this chapter then please review ;)

Ok, if you've gotten down here & are still confused about the promised lemon, then go back up & read the beginning AN (I stuck there, figuring anyone who missed would want to read, before this chapter . . . oh, well. ;) Anyway, have fun reading, and remember – reviewing stories makes for happy writers.