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Early the next morning...
Harry stood in Professor Dumbledore's office not knowing why he had been called there as soon as he had woken up that morning. What made him even more uncomfortable was that Professor Snape was sitting in the chair directly next to him. Every now and then, Harry would look over at the greasy-haired professor just to make sure he didn't have that smug, superior look he usually wore when he knew Harry was getting in trouble.
"Potter, it's rude to stare," Snape said in his usual, put-upon voice. "If you have something to say, say it. Otherwise, point that scar in the other direction..." Harry pursed his lips to keep from saying something he knew he'd get in trouble for.
"Ah, Harry... Severus... it's good of you to come," Dumbledore's voice greeted as he descended his office stairway to where his desk sat.
"I don't believe that there was much choice in the matter," Snape said as he re-folded his arms over his chest. Dumbledore smiled.
"There is always a choice. But some are harder to see," he said as he sat into his high back chair and placed his hands on each of the armrests.
"Excuse me, sir. Why have you called me here?" Harry asked, ignoring Snape's roll of his eyes. The headmaster smiled.
"Well, Harry, I have called you here because I have heard a rumor and wish to know if it is true," he said. Harry frowned.
"What rumor?" he asked, confused.
"That you plan on re-forming Dumbledore's Army, nee Defense Association," he said. Harry's glance darted nervously to where Snape sat, his dark gaze focused on something ahead of him and sitting as if he hadn't heard what the headmaster had said.
"Sir..." Harry started, his eyes darting to Snape once more. Dumbledore waved a hand in dismissal of the concern.
"It is alright, Harry. Professor Snape is fully aware of what the DA is. In fact, it is why he is here," the headmaster said. It would have been an understatement to say that Harry gaped at the new information.
"He... he knows about the DA?" he asked. This time, Snape turned his gaze to Harry.
"I have known about your little ragtag group for some time now, Potter. And the fact that I haven't done anything against it should hopefully quell some of that continuing suspicion you have of me," he said. Harry let out a small snort of disbelief before he could catch himself. Snape glowered and continued. "I may not like you, Potter, but I know what you are capable of and I know what you are meant to do." Dumbledore smiled.
"And it is because of that knowledge, among other things, that I wish you to instruct Harry in the magics unknown to us..." the headmaster said. Both Harry and Snape turned to gape at the old wizard.
"You want me to teach this..."
"I can't learn from him. The last time..."
Both of their protestations came out simultaneously. And Professor Dumbledore, infinite in his patience, let both of them stew over the new development until they were all out of condemnations of the other. Once quiet resumed over the office, the headmaster stood and walked around his desk to stand behind Harry.
"The Dark Arts are often a feared and hated realm of magic. But in battle we cannot fear or hate what we must fight, otherwise it will defeat us," the old wizard said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Professor Snape is knowledgeable of many of the Dark Arts and it would be wise for you, Harry, to learn as much about it as you can. And once you do, prepare your friends to fight against it."
Harry looked over at Snape. It looked as if the Potions professor had swallowed something distasteful.
"You want me to teach Potter how to use the Dark Arts so that he may go teach his friends?" the dark-haired man asked, incredulous. Dumbledore let out a breath.
"You make it sound as if I were trying to encourage the use of the Dark Arts, Severus," he commented. The other man blanched.
"I wouldn't say 'encourage'," he said in veiled confirmation. But Dumbledore only smiled.
"I wouldn't say 'encourage' either, Severus. I wish Harry to learn from your experience and your past so that he may be prepared for whatever he may encounter," he said. Snape remained silent, but Harry could see that the man was thinking this over. Then, with a stiff nod, he stood.
"Very well. I'll agree to it," he said. Harry's jaw dropped open slightly. Snape was never known to be so magnanimous with his time, especially where Harry was concerned. Harry's jaw snapped shut when Snape turned stormy eyes to stare at him.
"I will contact you on our first meeting time, Potter," he growled out before turning and storming out of the room in his typical manner. Harry remained silent but turned back to Professor Dumbledore.
"Now, Harry, let us discuss what it is you are to learn," the old wizard said as he resumed his place behind his desk.
It wasn't until he was halfway to the Great Hall later that he realized that he hadn't been given the chance to agree to this new arrangement. Harry wasn't sure if that comforted him or worried him.
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Ginny entered the Great Hall later that morning to see Ron, Harry and Hermione saving a place for her. There was a thunderous look on her brother's face as he looked at her, but Ginny just smiled. Ron leaned over and muttered something darkly to Hermione. The other girl just frowned and shook her head.
"Good morning, Ginny," Hermione greeted. Ginny sat down next to her.
"Good morning, Hermione," she said happily. Ron scowled at her from across the table, so Ginny turned to Harry.
"Good morning, Harry..." she said. Harry smiled, but only muttered a small greeting in return. Then, Ginny picked up a piece of fruit and immediately started to eat it. Ron's scowl only darkened.
"Are you not even going to say anything to me then?" he asked. Ginny's attention was on the apple in her hand.
"You seem to be in a shirty mood this morning, so I'm not even going to open myself up to whatever attack you have planned," she commented. With that, she stood up and started towards the Great Hall entrance. Whatever reply her brother had on the tip of his tongue was cut off by the screeching of an owl. Ginny turned to see the Weasley owl, Pigwidgeon, drop a suspicious looking letter into her brother's hands. With a smile, she turned to leave her brother to his howler, but was suprised with an identical looking letter was dropped into her hands as well. Pig took that moment to flop onto her shoulder. Ginny glared at the owl, but the animal only looked back at her as if to say 'I'm not the one that went off and got into trouble.' Grudgingly, Ginny gave the owl a piece of her apple. After a flutter of departing wings, Ginny rushed out into the hallway in order to avoid the howler going off in front of the entire Great Hall. She heard the screaming voice of her mother as the door closed behind her as Ron had apparently opened his own. With a sigh, Ginny opened the red envelope and prepared herself for the worst.
"GINEVRA MOLLY WEASLEY! WHAT IN MERLIN'S GOOD NAME WERE YOU THINKING! YOU ALMOST GOT YOURSELF, AND YOUR BROTHERS, KILLED! YOU WILL BE COMING STRAIGHT HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS, AND YOU WILL RECEIVE YOUR PUNISHMENT THEN..." the howler immediately tore itself up and Ginny watched as the red bits of paper floated harmlessly to the ground. With a sigh, she flicked her wand and cleaned up the mess. It actually hadn't been as bad as it could have been...
"You've gone and got yourself grounded, Weasley. I'd find that amusing if it didn't affect my enjoyment of the holidays as well," a familiar voice drawled. Ginny turned to look at him with a smile.
"Aren't you supposed to be in the hospital wing still?" she asked. Draco shrugged.
"I'm all in one piece," he said. She looked him over as he approached and noted with a pleased nod that his limp was nearly gone and the bruises on his face had become a little less noticeable.
"So, how is my being grounded affecting your holiday enjoyment?" she asked. Draco smirked.
"I had hoped to convince you to stay..." Ginny winced as the thought of being alone with him took root in her thoughts.
"Brilliant, you've just gone and ruined my holidays. Now, all I'm going to be able to do is sit at home and think of being here with you," she said. Draco shrugged before he leaned in and kissed her.
"At least I won't be the only one then," he said as he leaned back. Ginny wrapped her arms around his neck, ever so careful of his still fading bruises and cuts.
"Are you going to be safe here?" she asked, concern causing her brow to wrinkle. He reached up and rubbed it away.
"Safer than I would be at home with dear old dad... or anywhere else, for that matter," he said. Ginny frowned.
"I didn't mean the question to be taken lightly," she said. Draco sighed as his hands settled on her hips.
"I know you didn't. I'll be safe here," he said.
"You could always come to the Burrow," Ginny said. Draco raised a brow.
"That eager to see a loved one die, are you?" he asked. Ginny chuckled.
"I suppose it would be just as dangerous," she admitted. "I could teach you a few deflecting charms..." Draco rolled his eyes.
"You're so sure that I would be the one that needed them?" he asked. Ginny smirked.
"I do have six brothers. I'd place my galleons on them getting a few hexes through your gigantic ego," she said.
"Your family has heard of galleons?" he asked in mock shock. Ginny swatted his arm.
"Stop being such a prat," she said. He pulled her closer and bent to kiss the spot just below her ear.
"I'd take care. You know how it affects me when you call me that," he said. Ginny chuckled even as a shiver ran down her back at the caress. She then tightened her hold around his neck and just held on to him. For a quiet moment, they just clung to each other, grateful that they were able to do so again. But that moment was cut short as a clearing of a throat caused them both to look up. It seemed as if every moment they found alone was doomed to be disrupted.
"Draco..." Blaise said. The pair didn't let go of each other as they looked to the dark-haired boy.
"What is it Blaise?" Draco asked, annoyed at the interruption.
"Snape wishes to see you," he answered. Ginny looked up at Draco, but he continued to look at Blaise. He acknowledged his friend with a tight nod and the other Slytherin took himself off.
Ginny had felt Draco tense the moment Snape's name had escaped Blaise Zabini's lips. Her worry at him being safe within Hogwarts walls returned full force.
"Draco..." she started, but he didn't seem to hear her. With a hand, she turned his face and his attention back to her. "Is everything alright?" Draco blinked down at her for a second before the tension slipped from his muscles.
"It should be," he said. The Potions professor had yet to speak to Draco since being brought back to Hogwarts in an unconscious state. It would be interesting to hear what the man would have to say to him. Hopefully it would not include a vicious scolding only Severus Snape was capabale of giving.
"I will find you later," he said before giving Ginny a quick kiss on the forehead. He released her and began to walk away but she caught his hand, suitably stopping him.
"Will you tell me about it?" she asked. Draco looked down at her for a second and then gave her a nod. No one in the past had ever wanted to know anything about him or what he went through... and if telling her put such a look of happiness on her face in the future, he'd gladly tell her anything she wished to hear.
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The Great Hall...
"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione leaned over to ask. "You've been quiet all morning." Ron snorted.
"Isn't it obvious? The world's all topsy-turvy... That's what's bloody wrong. Ginny's gone mental... Malfoy..." the redhead shook his head as he picked at his breakfast. If anything would curb his appetite it would be the thought of his sister and Draco Malfoy. Hermione frowned at him.
"I doubt Harry has been obsessing over that situation like you have, Ronald," she said. Ron shook his head and played with the red bits of paper from his howler.
"I can't believe you knew about it and didn't tell me," he muttered. Hermione's chin went up.
"I did not know. I had suspicions. And I only found out by accident," she said. Then she turned to Harry. "Forget Ron and his unseemly obsession with Malfoy. You would think he was jealous or something..." Harry grinned at that, but Ron stood up, his face red.
"You take that back! Take it back right now, you... you... you..." he stumbled.
"You will keep a civil tongue in the Great Hall, Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall called out from her seat at the head table. Ron glared, but sat down and remained silent. Hermione arched an eyebrow at her boyfriend, but decided to let him stew on his own. She turned to the Boy-Who-Lived.
"Now, Harry, spill it. There's something bothering you..." she said. Harry let out a breath.
"You know how I told you that we should probably reform the DA?" he asked.
"Yes," Hermione answered as Ron nodded empatically, his mouth full of breakfast. Harry leaned closer to his two friends.
"Well, Dumbledore wants me to learn the Dark Arts from Snape..." he said softly. Ron's eyes went wide and he choked slightly on whatever he had been ingesting.
"The Dark Arts?" he asked. "Isn't that a bit... much?" Hermione studied Harry for a moment.
"He wants you to teach that to us, doesn't he? He thinks that if we don't know it..." she said finally, trailing off at the morbid turn of her thoughts. Ron nearly put his elbow in his breakfast as he leaned over the table.
"Do you honestly think this is a good idea? I mean look at what happened the last time around when that git tried to teach you something..." Ron said. Harry looked up at his friend.
"Yes, I do think it is a good idea. I don't know much about the Dark Arts besides a few defense tactics here and there. I may have received an Outstanding in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Voldemort will require more than a Patronus or a Ridikulus charm. That I'm sure of," he said, his gaze sliding down to look at his hands.
"But Harry..." Ron started again, but Hermione interrupted.
"Ron, Harry's right. Voldemort will use every trick in the book to try to kill Harry, and you can be sure that the Death Eaters will do the same to kill the rest of us. We will need to know what we can do to protect ourselves. And what better way to do that than to learn the magic that will be used against us," she commented.
"But it's Snape..." Ron said with a disgusted look. Harry smiled.
"Think of it this way... if I can put up with his unpleasantness, then I can certainly put up with a whole lot more," he said. Ron rolled his eyes and smiled back.
"It says a lot that I'd rather be in your position with bloody Snape than to have to think about my sister..." he said, the smile gone and a sick look on his face. "... Malfoy..." The tall redhead shuddered and put his forehead in his hand. Hermione reached over to rub his back as she sent Harry an amused smile before her look turned serious.
"Learn as much from him as you can, Harry. He used to be a Death Eater... he knows how they work. The DA will need to know that," she said. Ron looked at her.
"What do you know?" he asked suspiciously. Hermione's hand dropped from his back as she leaned forward to whisper.
"Ever since Professor Sprout was killed, I've seen the professors adding more wards to certain areas of the castle," she said, sending Harry a meaningful look.
"Meaning the secret passages..." he said, thinking of the Marauder's Map. Hermione nodded. Ron frowned.
"What's that got to do with anything?" he asked. Hermione let out a soft sigh.
"I think it means they're anticipating an attack on the school," she said. "And they are taking all the precautions they are able to take..."
"Meaning that the DA has just become more important than we were originally planning it to be," Harry caught on. Hermione sat up straight.
"Exactly," she said. Ron let out a heavy breath.
"Then I say learn all you can, Harry," the redhead said as he realized that their coming problems would be a lot more worrisome than Snape's snarky attitude. "And if you can find a spell to do away with spiders, I'd be grateful..." Harry smiled at his friend's attempt to lighten the mood.
"If we haven't come across one by now, Ron, I doubt I'll stumble across one while learning the Dark Arts," Harry chuckled as he stood. Ron and Hermione followed suit.
"But Harry... they're bloody spiders... Dark Arts if I'd ever seen a creature of the like," he muttered as the trio made their way out of the Great Hall.
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The dungeons...
Draco pushed open the classroom door and looked around the darkened room. It wasn't like Severus to call a meeting and then not be there.
"Professor?" Draco called into the room. There was no answer. "Severus?"
"Over here, Draco," the Potions professor's voice answered. Draco turned to see Severus approaching with an armful of old texts.
"Zabini said you wished to see me?" he inquired. Severus gave a nod of his greasy head as he sat down in his desk.
"I have something that we need to discuss," Severus said. Draco nodded and closed the door behind him.
"What is it?" he asked, crossing the room to where his mentor sat. Severus let out a weary sort of sigh.
"Draco, I am sure you are aware that the hope of the wizarding world – and the world in general – rests upon Harry Potter's shoulders," he said with a sneer. Draco mirrored his professor's expression.
"I'd prefer to be unaware of it, sir," Draco said. Severus smirked.
"I believe we all would," he said. Draco clasped his hands behind his back as he stood in front of Severus' desk.
"Excuse my impertinence, sir, but what has Potter got to do with me?" he asked. Severus stood.
"The war against the Dark Lord in on the verge of bursting into the wizard and Muggle world alike. The headmaster has asked me to begin training Potter in the Dark Arts," the dark haired man said. Draco's brow went up in suprise.
"The do-gooder practicing the Dark Arts? That would be as likely as me becoming study-buddies with Granger..." he scoffed. Severus made a face at the image his student presented.
"Then perhaps you should work on your ability to resist verbally eviscerating the insufferable know-it-all. I have worked with Potter in the past. And if it means the end of this bloody war, I will work with him again," Severus said. Draco made a face.
"If you must," he said. "But how is this supposed to affect me?"
"Because I expect you to assist Potter in whatever way you can," Severus ground out. Draco recoiled in angry suprise.
"You want me to help that twit? With what? What could Dumbledore's favored possibly learn from me?" he asked with a sneer. Severus slapped his hands down on his worn desk. His obsidian eyes pinned Draco where he stood.
"Do you not understand what it means to be at war, Draco? Do you not understand the stakes?" he came near to yelling. Draco crossed his arms and glared at the man he considered a father.
"I know perfectly well what war means and I know perfectly well what stands to be lost," he said back. "You were with me when those points were made unmistakably clear to me..." Severus let out a sigh as he sank into his chair.
"I am sorry, Draco. I know that you are aware of what is happening," he said. But he returned a steely look. "But that does not mean you can shirk your responsibilities in this matter..." Draco scoffed.
"And Potter's my responsibility? How'd that come about?" he asked, crossing his arms. Severus sat back in his chair and looked at the blond boy.
"Potter is not your responsibility. But imparting what you know is. You have been immersed in the Dark Arts the better part of your life, Draco. Merlin knows that Harry Potter has not. You know Voldemort will use that to his advantage," the Potions professor said. Draco closed his eyes at the duty being handed to him.
"I told you. I want no part in this war," he gritted out. When he opened his eyes, Draco saw Severus looking tired and worn.
"I know, Draco. And I will do my part to keep you out of it," he said. Draco's shoulders fell.
"This whole mess sounds as if you want to drag me right into it," he said. The chair squeaked as Severus sat up straight and looked squarely at Draco.
"Do you want Voldemort to win? Do you want to be a part of the world where Death Eaters rule and torture and pain become a part of everyday life?" he asked pointedly. Images from two years ago flitted through Draco's mind and he could almost smell buring flesh once more.
"No," he said weakly. Severus lifted his chin and looked down his nose at the teenager.
"Do you want to live in a world where you must constantly run, where you must constantly hide because your life is forfeit?" he asked. Draco looked to the ground.
"No," he said again. With his eyes downcast, he did not see the almost indistinguishable smirk on Severus' face.
"Do you want to live in a world where Ginevra Weasley will be constantly hunted in order to torture, violate and murder her?" he asked. Heated blood rushed to Draco's head so quickly that all he could hear was the sound of it pounding in his ears. Before he knew it, he was standing before Severus' desk, his wand drawn and his Potions professor being held against the wall by invisible bonds.
"Do not utter such filth in my presence ever again," he said, the ice in his voice nearly palpable. Severus was slowly lowered back to the ground with a look of amusement and shock warring over his pale face.
"I take it that was a no, then?" he said, straightening his robes and then leaning down to pick up the fallen chair. Draco's glare was as cold as his voice had been. In his mind's eye, the blond could see images from his dream... Ginny protecting her child from an unseen predator... Ginny, dying to save that child...
"What do you want me to do, then?" Draco said, turning from his professor.
"Dumbledore has expressed a wish for Potter to learn from me. And he will. There are things that he could learn from me. But there are things he can learn from you as well. Between the two of us, I believe he can learn more about the Dark Arts than he ever wished to know. Unfortunately for him, it may be those Dark Arts that will save him in the battle with Voldemort," Severus relayed. Draco nodded.
"Fine. I will do my part," he said before he turned back to look at Severus. "But do not ever use Ginevra as leverage to get me to do your bidding again. The fact that you are very nearly family to me will not hold me back..." The Potions professor studied Draco for a moment.
"It isn't wise for your feelings to be this close to the surface, Draco. I understand that for seventeen, nearly eighteen years all emotion has been suppressed in regards to you. But there is intelligence in that supression, no matter how misguided. Your feelings for Miss Weasley could very easily be used against you. It has been short of a miracle that nothing has happened to her thus far," he said. Draco was silent as he paced in front of his mentor. Then, he stopped.
"I know..." was all he said. Then, without another word he left the room, leaving Severus gazing at the doorway with concern.
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Elsewhere...
"Crucio..." Lucius Malfoy writhed in pain as the curse was leveled at him. He'd lost count of the times he'd endured the Unforgiveable. All he knew was that he'd soon be dead. There were chuckles among the small group of Death Eaters that had been allowed the honor of seeing the Dark Lord's favored punished.
"Now, Lucius..." Voldemort's voice rang through the small room. "You may think I am going to kill you. But there is a higher purpose in keeping you among the living. You have been my loyal servant and high commander of my armies. That, in and of itself, would not be enough to keep you alive..." Again, there was a chorus of chuckles.
"Yes, My Lord," Lucius managed to grate out. The curse was dropped and the man slumped to the floor, his eyes unfocusing.
"But there is something else, something much more important, that makes you worthy of being kept alive..."
When Lucius Malfoy returned to his wife much later, he was nearly unrecognizable. Her blue eyes took in his appearance without a flinch.
"What has happened?" she asked in an unaffected voice. Lucius' stormy eyes met hers.
"The Dark Lord has happened across my plans for Draco..." he growled. Narcissa nodded.
"And what is to happen next?" she asked. Lucius threw off his cloak and glared at his wife.
"He knows what you have done," he said. "He has always known..." Narcissa stood as calmly as possible, even as her hand – hidden in the skirt of the dress she wore – shook slightly.
"Draco?" she asked. Lucius sneered as he turned to look into the fire.
"He is to die by my hand," he answered coldly. Narcissa turned to look into the flames as well, as an icy wave of dread washed over her. It should have been expected, this turn of events...
"Then that is what is to be," she said, her own voice cold in response to her husband.
"Yes, it is," Lucius said, pain still radiating through his body and the need to make his son pay for his betrayal almost as overwhelming as the curse had been.
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