Author: Etherea.

Rating: T – PG-13 (Slight Sexual connotations and Foul Language; nothing unbearable.)

Disclaimer: I certainly don't own anything related to the Harry Potter Universe. So please, don't sue.

Author Note: For the last time, a warning. This is a story with Slash content. Meaning: Male/Male relationships. If you got this far then you know what it means, therefore I'm supposing you're not feeling offended and are actually enjoying it!

And yes, you know how it goes:

Roses are red,

Violets are blue.

Make a fanfic writer happy:

Just read and review!

ºGrins sheepishlyº On with it!

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Ethereal Desire

Chapter One

Things Have Changed

Draco Malfoy descended the white marble staircase that lead to the ground level of Snape Manor. It was quite early in the morning, but it wasn't surprising to find a dark clothed figure sitting on one of the luxurious armchairs facing the windows of the spacious parlour; a mess of parchments and documents scattered around, a cup of cold coffee forgotten on one of the side tables.

The night-haired man looked up at the sound of footsteps entering the room, and with a quizzical smile playing on his lips, he set aside the piece of parchment he was working on and greeted the young wizard that had just walked in.

"Well, Draco… it's a surprise to see you up so early this morning. Have a good night?" Severus Snape said; his velvety voice ringing with innuendo and his pale face showing an amused smirk. Draco just looked at him with annoyance and went to stand by the huge window. A happy autumn sun shone brightly in the sky and the birds were already singing their morning tunes.

"You could say that," he replied sardonically after a few seconds of quiet contemplation. "Although, what it has to do with you is clearly beyond me." He then turned to the older man; his arms crossed, and his face set in a sneer that didn't quite reach his eyes of fused silver.

Severus Snape filled the air with the sound of his clear, deep laughter. To a casual observer, it would have been quite the shock to see this rather obscure-looking man express his glee in such a genuine way; even more if they had met Severus Snape at least once in their lives. But of course, a casual observer wouldn't have known much past appearances, or even remotely understand how close the two wizards really were.

"Believe me, boy. It is my business when your enjoyment keeps me awake all night. Didn't that old fool Flitwick teach you any Silencing Charms?" The Potions Master chuckled in amusement, which did nothing to diminish Draco's annoyance.

"Like I would have thought of that! I was rather… occupied at the moment," Draco scowled, letting himself fall gracefully in the vacant chair placed next to the one taken by his godfather. "Besides, I was under the impression you'd actually enjoy it as well. I know all about your voyeuristic tendencies," he continued offhandedly as he took his wand out of his robe pocket, conjuring a cup of steaming coffee and heating up the one abandoned at Severus' side. Severus Snape gave him a reproving look for his comment, but to the older man's chagrin, it didn't accomplish anything on the arrogant boy. The pale professor shook his head in resignation and resumed his perusing of the document he had left unattended. Draco smiled conspiratorially and stared at Severus, who tried his best to remain unaffected. I'm seriously losing my touch, thought the dark-haired wizard.

"So…" the Potions Master said casually, his eyes fixed thoughtfully on the parchment as if he were talking about some inconsequential subject such as the weather. "Did you have another Visit?"

At the sound of that word, Draco suddenly stopped on his way of bringing the cup to his parted lips; the hot contents almost spilling on his robe, his wicked smile practically forgotten, and his grey eyes widening in shock.

"How… how do you know about that?" he asked; fear clearly showing in his otherwise impassive features.

"Your mother told me some time ago." Severus looked up at him attentively, waiting for the younger man's response. As the shaken expression remained plastered on Draco's face, the Potions Master elaborated.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Draco. In fact, it's quite a special gift. You should embrace it, not fear it or condemn it." Severus Snape saw the anguished glint that flashed through his godson's eyes at his words, gone as fast as it had come. Draco placed the cup on the table, feeling a bit nauseous all of the sudden, and rested his arms on the chair.

"Is it? Mother told me the same thing, but somehow I can't bring myself to believe that. It's definitely more like a bloody curse to me."

Draco stared at a place beyond his godfather's shoulder, and the older man could see his young charge was lost in some secret reminiscence of his past. Severus inwardly cursed his lack of subtlety. He had managed to bring up not one, but two very delicate subjects in less than ten seconds. How in Merlin's name did I survive being a spy?

Draco seemed to notice his godfather's hesitation, and he shook himself out of his reverie as his lips turned up in a sly smile. "Although I can't deny that they are quite satisfying." His mercury eyes regained their mischievous glint.

Severus grimaced, though his lips turned up as well. "Please, spare me the details. I have enough traumatizing experiences to last me a lifetime."

Draco sneered once again at the dry comment, but after a few seconds of unperturbed silence his face turned to a thoughtful expression. "What did Mother tell you?"

Although the blond wizard's face kept the impassive, almost stoical mask it was so famous for, Snape could see the veil of sadness that threatened to take over his godson's mercury eyes. He put the parchment aside once more; this time intending to leave it there in favour of the serious conversation he knew was bound to come. Merlin knew there were a lot of important issues to address.

"Not much really, just… enough." He looked at Draco openly, his jet-black eyes showing his concern and support for the blond. "She told me the Visits began shortly after you graduated, and that you had come to her for help. She told me you thought you were being haunted." The Potions Master couldn't help the laughter-like snort that came after those words. Honestly, these youngsters nowadays…

Draco opened and closed his mouth repeatedly in outrage, feeling completely embarrassed by his godfather's mockery and looking exactly like the spoiled brat he had been years ago, pouting over 'unfair' punishment. It actually made Severus smile to himself. Draco had grown into a very powerful, very confident young wizard. The three years he had spent on his own in Greece, making a living for himself for the first time in his life, seemed to have really helped him grow up in many ways, but it was comforting to realize some things never changed. Old habits do die hard. I pity the soul that's bonded to you, my boy… he thought as he shook his head, amused, aware of the fiery darts being thrown his way by the young Slytherin, who had stood up and was now pacing his way to Hades' Underworld on the marble floor.

"What did you want me to think?" Draco asked when he could get past his initial indignation. "Animus Salutor is not something everybody talks about in common rooms and dinner parties, you know? How was I to know I was being visited by my bloody soul mate and not being set up for a horrid death at the hands of a person under an Invisibility Cloak or a Concealment Charm? It scared me out of my wits! You know what my activities were back then! You know how careful I had to be about everything! So having an invisible visitor snogging me senseless wasn't what I would call very… er… pleasant!" Draco argued his case whilst Severus laughed at his hilarious attempts at self-defence.

"Yes, I honestly believe it must have been a terrifying experience getting off with a ghost," he drawled with a jovial glint in his ebony eyes. Draco, who was feeling like a six-year-old at the moment, couldn't help but notice how different his sulky godfather looked when he was relaxed like that. He even looks handsome, he thought; honest contentment replacing his aggravation. It seemed that after all those years of solitude, self-loathing, and guilt Severus Snape had finally found his well-deserved peace of mind. His godfather wasn't playing the role of a colourless pawn anymore; he was finally living the life he should have lived all along, and that liberty, that relief was clearly showing in his demeanour now. Even in his face, Draco mused, grateful.

He suddenly thought about the final year of the Dark War; how it had taken its toll on everyone in the Wizarding World –on some more than others- and how much everybody had had to give up for the greater good. Severus and Draco were no different. In fact, having to play both sides just made them even more exposed to the atrocities and crudeness of it all, for playing both sides meant they didn't have the consolation of confiding in anybody else but themselves or each other.

Draco shivered inwardly. He sincerely didn't know what would have happened to him if his godfather hadn't been a part of his life. After his 'beloved' father was sent to Azkaban to rot, he had to endure the worst times of his life. An epiphany was almost predestined to happen to him. Draco Lucius Malfoy, sole heir to the Malfoy name, who had carried himself as some kind of crowned prince and used to love denigrating and patronizing everyone around him, who had believed himself above everybody else only because of an ancient surname, who had thought he had it all just by having money and power and a reputation to be reckoned with, who had to be treated with the respect –not to mention the fear- his name evoked, had lost everything he had held dear the day his father was caught by Voldemort's side at the Ministry of Magic. He had lost everything he believed in, everything he had known. He had lost himself. And if it hadn't been for Severus Snape, he certainly didn't know what would have become of him.

"However, I do understand your point." Severus' smooth voice brought him back from his musings, and with a half-hearted scowl, Draco went to sit in his chair again, only just noticing that he had stood up sometime during his childish tantrum. Severus stared at Draco for a few seconds, as if mentally weighing the connotations of what he was about to say, his fingers stippled in front of him.

"What do you know about Animus Salutor?" At those words, Draco's eyebrows joined in a frown. He hadn't expected the question, and it left him a little disconcerted. He could see Severus had adopted what Draco jokingly called 'Classroom-Mode', and it meant that his godfather was expecting an honest, meaningful answer from him. The teasing had stopped, it seemed, so Draco thought about it for a while before finally speaking.

"Well, the information I've got came from what Mother told me and whatever I could find in a few books. It's really strange that there doesn't seem to be much about the phenomenon; even banned Dark Arts books don't describe it as thoroughly as I would have liked." Severus raised an eyebrow at the faux pas, but the blond Slytherin just ignored the gesture, waving it away as he continued his little speech. "Nevertheless, all sources converge on it being a visitation from one's Other Part in spirit form, when physical connection is remote or non-existent. It's supposed to be a very exceptional experience, and it's born from the emotional need for any kind of contact between the two Parts, even when this raw need manifests only at a subconscious level..." Draco trailed off for a second or two, looking at his godfather intently as if waiting for his reassurance to continue. At the Potions Master's nod of approval, the younger wizard resumed.

"There are two defined roles -so to speak- in Animus Salutor. One Part acts as the Visitant; the other Part acts as the Host. The Visitant travels to wherever the Host is using his spiritual body, or soul, during sleep, following the psychic link between them. The Visitant is often the Part with greater magical awareness," at this, Draco scowled, sounding derisive, "or the person whose need is more repressed, and will only acknowledge the visits as very vivid dreams.

"The Host is the Part who is more conscious of his or her needs, and therefore, more receptive to both their Partner's needs and soul. They are the ones stuck with feeling invisible beings harassing them in the middle of the night. Anyway, the roles are not interchangeable, and the visits will only stop when the Parts recognize each other and consummate their union in a more… tangible way," Draco finished, sinking deeper into the armchair and feeling utterly depressed all of the sudden.

"That was quite impressive. I never thought you knew so much about the more technical aspects of Animus Salutor," Severus Snape said, looking appreciatively at his young charge. "Although there are a few things I'm certain you don't know, and they are probably the most important characteristics of the phenomenon. However, we don't have the time to discuss them now, so we'll talk about it tonight. Right now, let's eat. I'm starving and I bet you are, as well." Severus Snape then snapped his fingers, and a house-elf wearing a pink apron over the piece of fabric it had for clothes appeared out of thin air, bowing low before its Master.

"What is Master wanting, Master Sir? Dixie is more than happy to help her Master, Sir." Dixie looked at Severus with her huge blue eyes, sighing and batting her eyelashes at him; a dreamy expression on her face. Draco regarded the house-elf with amusement, looking from the little creature to Severus and back to the elf again. He had been living in Severus' place for nearly a month now since his return from Greece, and he still found the issue of a house-elf in love with its Master quite funny.

"Thank you, Dixie. Would you be so kind and serve breakfast for us? It's almost eight thirty and we have to leave before ten for Mister Malfoy's hearing."

Dixie –literally- jumped with merriment. "Of course, Master Sir! Dixie will serve breakfast in the dining room, Sir! Dixie prepared blueberry pancakes today; Master's favourites! Dixie is hoping Mister Malfoy and Master is going to like the foods, Sir!" Dixie looked at the blond wizard, who gave her a condescending smile –which she didn't recognize or simply ignored- and then back at the Potions Master. With a final batting of eyelashes, a loud pop sounded and the little creature disappeared, leaving an almost hysterical Draco Malfoy and a scolding Severus Snape in the sun-lighted parlour.

"Sweet Athena, that was bloody hilarious!" the blond Slytherin said; his clear, rich laughter filling the room with its sharp edge. "Yes, Master Sir! Of course, Master Sir! Dixie wants to have your child, Master Sir! If only Dixie was human!" Draco said in a high-pitched voice, trying to imitate Dixie's soprano but failing miserably. It didn't lessen his mirth, though –as if he would ever pass such an opportunity to make fun of Severus- and his godfather kept glaring at him with one of his most infamous looks; his jet-black eyes narrowed into mere slits. Draco, of course, ignored the silent threat, and kept laughing until his eyes stung with unshed tears; his silvery blond hair falling over his face.

"Seriously, Severus," Draco spoke in his best frivolous tone when he was able to breathe regularly again, "where did you get that elf? I have never heard of wizard-elf relationships. That's so low… even for your standards." He sneered as he smoothed the few blond locks that had strayed over his eyes. Severus snorted caustically.

"Kettle mocking pot," he snapped. "At least she's made of flesh and bones," Severus retorted with a pleased smile on his lips at the scowl on Draco's face.

"Touché," Draco stiffly admitted. "But still, the change in that elf is quite remarkable. I never thought she could be so devoted to her masters when I met her at Avery's place."

"Well, I guess knowing who her former masters were says a lot about her actual behaviour, don't you think? More to the point, she is just grateful I took her out of that despicable rat hole."

Draco could understand Severus' point. He had seen the elf a few times on his visits to the now-burning-in-Hell Death Eater's house –when Draco still escorted his father on business, that was- and the creature had always behaved exactly like his former house-elf Dobby did: neither glad nor comfortable to serve them. He couldn't blame her, really; he knew how Death Eaters treated 'inferior' beings, but of course, it wasn't like he was going to comment about it then. His godfather had told him that a little after the Final Battle, when the Order of the Phoenix and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement were conducting the mandatory searches of known Death Eater's residences and properties, Severus had found poor Dixie in Avery Manor, wounded and chained to a dungeon wall. Apparently, she had been held captive there in case she would have thought about running to the Ministry with all of her masters' secrets during those hard war days; so it wasn't such a crazy idea to think that the house-elf had developed some kind of 'rescued-maiden' syndrome for his godfather.

"Overly grateful I would say…" Draco hadn't finished his amused reply when a melodious ring of bells ran through the room signalling that breakfast was served. Both men stood up and walked together to the luxurious dining room, which featured a beautifully carved mahogany table with matching chairs set with silver cutlery and fine china. A vase with freshly cut red roses and lilies sat in the centre of the flawless piece of furniture. Several dishes were filled with the aforementioned blueberry pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, ham, muffins, toasts, and juicy fruit. Two steaming jugs let escape the delicious aromas of newly brewed coffee and tea, accompanied with smaller ones containing honey and cream.

"Well, it seems that having a house-elf in love with you has its advantages," Draco said as he took his seat and began filling his plate. After a few minutes, he spoke again; his voice wrapped in melancholy. "I had forgotten what it was to be served like a king. In Greece I had to do everything for myself. These three weeks are seriously spoiling me rotten." The blond reached for the coffee jug, pouring some of the dark liquid into his cup along with some honey and cream, and smelling the rich mixture first, he took a sip and marvelled at the exquisite blend of flavours engulfing his mouth. So much better than conjured coffee…

The Potions Master, who was currently tucking eagerly into his food, stopped briefly to regard his godson with an unreadable expression on his face.

"I know these past three years have been difficult for you, Draco, but believe me when I say that everything is going to change. Today you're going to regain everything that was taken from you." Severus Snape spoke smoothly and calmly, meaning every single word he said.

"Bollocks!" Draco suddenly snapped; his eyes narrowed and the coffee-bliss forgotten. "You and I both know what that sodding hearing is about, so please spare me the pep talk. The Ministry of Magic is just using the inheritance issue as an excuse to interrogate me. Salazar only knows what they're going to come up with to send me to Azkaban, just like my father."

The Potions Master held his hands in front of him, apparently calm and collected, as he surveyed the blond with stern eyes. "You wouldn't be attending Wizengamot hearings if you had followed my advice and told Dumbledore of your true allegiances during the Dark War."

"What?" Draco certainly couldn't believe his ears. "And subdue myself to the stupid remarks and comments of Potter and the other fools at the Order of the Phoenix? Are you out of your wits or is it just senility finally catching up with you? You know what would have happened if they had known I was working as a spy! They would have doubted and questioned every bloody decision or move I made, and I certainly was not going to deal with that; not then, not ever. If I decided to become a spy it was to feed you with every piece of intelligence I could gather about Voldemort's plans, to help you come out alive of that stupid position you had put yourself into, not to please Albus Dumbledore, or sodding Potter for that matter."

Severus stared at him with a caustic glare. His hands were tightly clasped under his chin, and his eyes had turned an icy black. How can this child be so stubborn?

"I never said anything about telling the whole Order about your collaboration. I just said it would have been in your best interest if at least Dumbledore knew about it as well. He would have believed in your intentions. But of course, you had to be the proud, snotty child you have always been and leave everybody to their own conjectures. To make matters worse, you disappear without a trace precisely when everything was at its turning point for three years, and you only returned after you learned about your mother's death, when there are inheritance issues to attend. Now tell me, doesn't that add up to their case instead of yours?"

Draco stared at Severus with wide grey eyes, completely speechless; the silver fork remaining obstinately intact in his tight grip. Severus, regretting his curse of a temper, noted the impact his words had caused on his young charge, and let out a tired sigh of surrender, his anger leaving him with the exhalation.

"I'm not saying that you made the wrong choice. In fact, I understand the reasons you had to leave the country more than anybody else. I even agreed with your mother when she proposed the idea. I'm just telling you what the Ministry's argument is probably going to be, and I want you to be prepared." Severus noticed the fleeting lost expression that crossed Draco's face and the almost unnoticeable tear that appeared at the corner of his eye, winning the battle against the blond man's will. The Potions Master knew how much it hurt Draco that he hadn't been by his mother's side when she died.

"She knew this was going to happen, you know?" Draco said; his eyes lost in the scenery beyond the dining room's window. "She told me. She said that if it wasn't the Ministry, it would be the Death Eaters. Any of them would want to get me. It was a matter of time, really." The blond snorted miserably.

Severus put his fork and knife on his plate, all appetite gone. He hated the look on his godson's face, but he hated most being at a lack of things to say to make him feel better.

Draco had been a key element in the fight against Voldemort. In fact, Severus wasn't sure the Dark Lord would have been defeated if it wasn't in part for the young Slytherin's help. It wasn't a secret that Voldemort didn't trust the Potions Master enough as to tell him all his devious plans and machinations, and that he had only kept Severus by his side so he could have an in-house agent at Hogwarts. It was almost a blessing from the Gods when Draco decided to help him. If there was a place to learn about Voldemort's plans, it was the secretive Upper Seven Slytherin common room. Overexcited Death Eater-wannabes talking about their parents' conversations, more important Death Eaters boasting about their 'heroic' feats over a few shots of Firewhiskey, whispers of settled deals and allegiances amongst pureblooded families… Draco had had his ears open to all that flow of information. Plus, besides Lucius Malfoy, his godson was probably the only person who could recite Tom Riddle's life and work by heart, and this knowledge proved to be very useful when trying to discern Lord Voldemort's strategies.

Severus could only guess about the motives his godson had to turn to the light. Draco had changed a lot after his father's imprisonment, granted. He had turned into a quiet, discreet shadow at Hogwarts. He pushed his superior attitude aside. He even stopped bothering Potter and company. The change didn't go unnoticed by the school staff and population, though. The students from other houses took advantage of Draco's passiveness and mocked him about his new-found poverty –the Ministry of Magic had made sure every asset in Lucius Malfoy's name was confiscated- at any time. Moving to Snape Manor with his mother had been quite the blow to his ego, as well. But Severus knew how hard it was to get rid of old bigoted ideas and doctrines, therefore he wasn't so sure he could give the credit for such a radical detour to the humiliation Draco had faced back then. Besides, the child was a Slytherin to boot; Salazar knows how hard it is for a Slytherin to recapitulate in his or her tracks, especially when they know that recapitulation would expose that they have been wrong all along. No, Draco hadn't made that decision just because his peers made fun of him, or because he was suddenly deprived of all his luxuries and possessions. It had to be something else; something that had always eluded Severus' comprehension...

"Why didn't she say anything?"

Severus was taken aback by the empty tone in which Draco formulated the question. He saw the younger man staring at his plate, moving the food around with his fork, and looking completely despondent. The Potions Master frowned, concerned. Draco Malfoy never let his guards down in front of anybody, not even his godfather. His mother's death must have certainly been a blow to the blond wizard's fortitude.

"I think she believed there were more important things for you to worry about," Severus stated cautiously.

Draco averted his eyes from his food and looked straight at his godfather; his jaw clenching with impotence. "How could she think that? How could she believe she wasn't important to us, to me?"

Severus didn't know a way to answer that question without hurting his young charge; still, he went for the truth, as harsh and hurtful as it was. Draco had had his share of lies and façades and power games in his life, and he was determined to put a stop to that.

"She wanted the best for you, and she knew that worrying about her wasn't what you needed at that time."

"So she just let herself die in favour of my own tranquillity," Draco snapped; shaking his head as a tear ran down his sun-kissed cheek. He hated feeling so damn emotional, even more so when he knew he was facing a court full of merciless wizards and witches in an hour; but he couldn't help feeling that he needed to take out what he had bottled up inside since he returned to England or he would just explode in front of a less reassuring audience, which was completely out of the question.

He had left to go to Greece a few months after graduation and little after the Last Battle had taken place. Shortly after the visits had started, Draco thought. His mother –who knew all about his collaboration with Snape in the fight against Voldemort- had been very worried about the fact that some Death Eater escapees were aware of Draco's position as an informant for the Order and wanted revenge against him. "Purebloods don't take treason lightly," she had said. She had urged him to run away, to disappear until the Ministry got their hands on the remaining hidden minions. "You are just as good a target as Harry Potter is, my son, and for you it will be worse, for you betrayed your own." Narcissa had never been a part of Voldemort's followers nor did she ever believe in the ideals he professed, but she was a pureblood, and she knew how purebloods thought. "The Ministry will start a real witch-hunt now that Lord Voldemort has been defeated. They will search under rocks for what they consider evil and dark in order to quiet the public's claims about their earlier ineptitude, and you're bound to fall into their trap. They'll never believe you weren't on Voldemort's side; not when you kept your allegiances a secret, and even less knowing our family's history."

Draco had replied that Severus was in the same position and he wasn't considering running away, but she had told him Severus was a grown man, that he could take care of himself, and that Draco was only an eighteen-year-old. He was still too vulnerable, too weak to handle a Death Eater's wrath. She had told him that she only wanted his safety, that it was all she cared about, that she didn't want to see her only son get himself killed because of his childish pride. So he had accepted, only for her peace of mind. Now he realized she had just wanted him away for when her time arrived, and he hated her… Gods! How much he hated her for that.

Narcissa had been ill for a long time, and she hadn't said a word about it.

Because she knew that if she had told him, he wouldn't have left her for anything in the world.

And now he was left to face this pain, this terrible guilt inside of him that threatened to swallow him whole every time he thought about her, all alone.

Draco shook himself back to present time and noticed that his godfather had left the dining room. He also noticed the wet tracks decorating his cheeks and he wiped them away with the back of his hand. Damn emotions.

He looked at his food and what it had become after his oblivious stirring, and decided he preferred an apple much better. He picked one of the polished green apples set on a plate near the centre of the table, smelled the succulent aroma, and bit delicately into the ripe flesh, relishing the acid, juicy explosion that invaded his mouth. He loved green apples, and not because of their colour, as most people would have thought. He just loved their perfect balance of sourness and sweetness. They reminded him of life, actually. He looked at the partially bitten apple he held in his hand and smiled bitterly. If only life were so easy to digest…

Severus came back to the room holding some of the documents he had been reading in the parlour, and taking his seat once more, offered them to Draco. The young Slytherin put the bitten apple on his plate, and taking the parchments, surveyed them with a frown on his face.

"What are these?"

The Potions Master regarded him with a serious expression on his pale face. "Those are the deeds for your father's assets; your rightful inheritance. Narcissa gave them to me before she… passed away." Severus watched Draco going through the documents with rapt attention. "Those are the properties I petitioned for in your name at the Ministry."

The blond Slytherin looked up at his godfather. "All of these? And you think the Ministry is going to release them all under the Aliter Mortis Clause?"

Severus took a muffin from the basket and started nibbling at the butter-covered good. "They have to. Your father is not dead yet, so your case is eligible for the application of the clause. The confiscated intestate property must be bestowed upon you without difficulties… according to the law, that is." The Potions Master scowled at his own words.

"Why the so-called hearing, then?" Draco snorted sardonically.

"That's a rather redundant question, don't you think?" Severus said, sneering. Draco stuck his tongue out at his godfather, which made the older wizard sigh with mock annoyance. "The Ministry needs to make up for their past mistakes, the incompetent fools," he said as he poured himself a cup of dark, bitter tea to go along with his muffin. "It's a well-known fact that Voldemort gathered such great political power during the Second War due to Ministry Officials' preference for Pureblood families' donations; your father being one of the men responsible for diverting the Ministry's attention from the Dark Lord for almost six years. So it wouldn't look good to the public to let Draco Malfoy get everything he asks for so easily, now would it? That would be too much like old times. Furthermore, the fact that you supposedly remained neutral during the Dark War -plus your vanishing act- just gives the Ministry reasons to believe you had something to hide."

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, teeth clenched, and looking completely irritated. "Ok," he sighed briskly as he moved to hold his hands in front of his chin, "Let's recapitulate and enter into hypothetical realms for a second. What if I had truly remained neutral? What if I hadn't wanted to be a part of any of it? I mean, you know that if it wasn't for you I wouldn't have helped the Order, but I wouldn't have joined the Dark Side either. Would those idiots still persecute me for my lack of interest in their sodding war?" No matter how much Draco tried, he couldn't understand the minds of those inept morons at the Ministry of Magic, and Severus could acquiesce with the blond wizard's point of view. Still, he had to bring all perspectives to the table.

"Draco, during the war nobody was on neutral ground. Every single soul was touched by its atrocities in some way or another; and you very well know that. Neither the Ministry nor the Order is aware of your cooperation with their cause, but they are aware of your father's beliefs and activities, so the most plausible thing for them to believe is that you secretly supported the Dark Lord. They will try to prove that today, and you'll have to be very careful of what you say up there. You are right. Salazar only knows what they are going to come up with to frame you. This is all about getting themselves a scapegoat, and that scapegoat is you. So it's my humble suggestion that you watch your childish temper and your arrogant attitude. Those won't help you at all in front of the Wizengamot."

Draco sat up gracefully and surveyed the older wizard with a cold, calculating glint in his mercury eyes; his face masked with icy composure. That didn't fool his godfather one bit. Severus Snape knew his godson was seething inside because of the truth in his words.

After a short moment, the blond finally spoke, calm determination ringing in his voice, "I will treat the Wizengamot and the other Ministry officials with the courtesy and respect any authority figure must be regarded with." Draco paused for a second, as if to give his words time to reverberate in the spacious room. "However, I will not tolerate any abuse from them, nor will I remain impassive to any injustice I consider myself subjected to. I will speak my mind and my mind alone. I don't care about the consequences. If they want to play Holy Inquisition with me and use this hearing to interrogate me about my past, it will be in their best interests to be fair about the whole thing, for I'll be damned if I let them bombard me with false accusations and not hex them all until oblivion, giving them real bloody reasons to send me to Azkaban."

Severus eyes narrowed dangerously.

"For Salazar's beard, Draco!" the dark-haired wizard snapped. "There are a lot of people who want to see you behind bars because of your last name. These are not lenient days we are living in! The Ministry is truly on a witch-hunt for every Death Eater on the face of the Earth, and for them, you are one of them! You can end this farce by telling them everything about what you did for their pathetic cause! You are as much a reason for their happy new world as Harry bloody Potter!" The Potions Master hit the table in anger, his eyes dark and ominous, feeling utterly frustrated with the young man in front of him.

"No! I didn't tell them then, and I won't tell them now!" Draco didn't even wince at his godfather's actions and his words dripped liquid nitrogen. "I won't hide behind it. I won't pull out the joker card at the last hand. They don't have anything, anything against me. All they have is a myriad of vague suppositions," he said lowering his tone of voice when he noticed his godfather was almost shaking with anger.

"So you are just going to let them get you? Is that it? Only because of that pathetic Malfoy pride that hasn't gotten you anywhere?" Severus snarled furiously. Draco consciously ignored Severus' insult to his bloodline.

"No, I won't let them get me," the blond said fiercely. "If they are as righteous as they say they are, they will have to sign those damn release forms and give back what's mine. You said so yourself. I am going to get everything that was taken from me, and it better not have anything to do with my bloody surname, but with the fact that I'm only exercising my rights."

"I said that because I thought you'd be clever enough to play the bloody game!"

Draco narrowed his eyes at that comment, and folding his arms across his chest, sat back in his chair.

"I'm tired of playing games."

They stayed there, staring at each other with icy eyes for what appeared to be a long time, but in fact was only minutes, one wizard utterly frustrated and concerned about the other's future, the other mentally steeling himself for the new test he was going to face and wondering if he would be able to survive once more. The air seemed to have frozen around them as they faced one another, wishing inwardly the other would just understand.

Severus finished his cup of tea, trying to get a hold of his temper, as he appraised Draco's face thoroughly with his unreadable jet eyes. When he finally spoke, he did so with calm acceptance ringing in his voice; his smooth tone conveying finality.

"Do what you think best, Draco. You're a grown man now. I've done my job by advising you; to follow it or not, is up to you." The Potions Master stood up, and with his face set in an unreadable mask, he added, "It's time now. We must go."

Draco looked up at his godfather, nodded curtly, and stood up as well. After looking around the luxurious room as if trying to engrave its details in his memory, he followed the night-haired wizard to the gates of Snape Manor under a radiant sun that shone happily up above; the playful wind running through his shoulder-length blond hair. He searched his dark blue robes for his wand and closed his eyes when he felt the reassurance of the polished wood against his palm.

Whatever will be, will be, he thought; and with a murmured spell, Draco Malfoy disapparated with Severus Snape to the Ministry of Magic.

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"Mr. Potter! Mr. Potter! Harry! Tommy Adams from the Prophet! What are your impressions about being the Auror in charge of the investigation regarding Draco Malfoy's involvement with the Dark Cause?"

"Harry! Laura Plenzic from The Turning Times! How does it feel to be facing your school nemesis again? Are you up for a duel or are you both past your childhood rivalries?"

"Harry! Joanne Pringles, for Witch Weekly! How is your engagement with sweetheart Ginny Weasley coming along? What about wedding dates?"

Harry Potter tried to make his way through the horde of vultures –known world wide as reporters- crowding the entrance to the Ministry of Magic. The steps to the grand building were literally covered by an immeasurable amount of people with magical cameras, Dict-O-Quills, and Roll-Out-Parchments trying to get the best angles and notes from the famous war hero; not to mention the myriad of fans and onlookers that had showed up just to witness such an important event of the Magical Community.

The Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-Utterly-Harassed-By-The-Media pushed his way through the mass of people guarded by a couple of Ministry Officials as if some kind of celebrity. Well, I am a celebrity of sorts, he thought as he constantly repeated the favourite expression of all personalities around the world: "No comments". After much struggle and a few waves and smiles for the cameras –'If you can't beat them, join them,' Harry would have said- he finally got inside of the impressive structure. Standing by the front desk with a gleeful smile playing on his lips and arms crossed casually over his chest, was one very amused Ron Weasley; tall and slender physique clothed in navy Auror robes.

"I swear, mate! I don't know how you can put up with that every sodding day! It's mayhem out there!" Ron said as a greeting as the emerald-eyed man walked to where he was standing. Harry Potter looked sheepishly behind his shoulder at the gates he had just walked in through, where a few Ministry Officials where trying to hold the doors closed against the frantic crowd of people outside.

"Oh, well. What can I say? They can't seem to get enough of me, I guess." Harry gave the redhead a quizzical smile, his luminous emerald eyes shining smugly, to which the redhead answered with a roll of his eyes.

"And of course, apparating inside the building like every other Auror is out of the question; especially when you have devoted fans to impress," Ron replied with mock annoyance, shaking his head. "And you used to say you hated it."

Harry's grin became even more conceited just to keep up with his friend's game.

"Oh, I do hate it! I just realized it is much better to have them," he signalled to the door and immediately hundreds of flashes and waving of hands could be noticed through the thick glass, "on my side. I've had enough experiences with angered tabloids to last me a lifetime."

"Yeah, right! Please, tell me that again when you ask me to accompany you to yet another photo-shoot session for Wicked Seventeen!" Ron suppressed a laugh at Harry's suddenly shocked expression. "Oh, come on! Let's go to the cafeteria for something to eat. It's too early in the morning and my stomach is already protesting."

The black-haired man, finding his best friend and soon-to-be brother-in-law's suggestion rather appealing, nodded his agreement. "Yeah, let's do that. We still have an hour before the hearing starts, and who knows when we will be able to grab something to eat after that. This thing may last for hours." Ron snorted as both men started heading towards the cafeteria, which was just a couple of hallways away on the ground level of the Ministry of Magic.

"From what I'm told, it's going to actually be quick business. I heard the chief prosecutor has some aces up his sleeve. It seems we are going to get rid of all Malfoys once and for all," Ron said with a sly smile on his face. This is going to be such a nice day, the redhead thought.

"What do you mean by 'a few aces up his sleeve'?" Harry asked; a little perturbed by his best friend's demeanour, although not quite understanding the reason. "The Department sent the report indicating we couldn't find any proof of Malfoy's involvement in Voldemort-related activities. We can't come up with any excuse to lock him in just because we don't like him."

They had reached the cafeteria; a small room with a few vintage tables and chairs, a trolley with an arrangement of fast foods featuring a scrawny blond-haired witch sitting behind it, and an espresso machine. A couple of Aurors and other Ministry Officials were scattered around, submerged in their food or inconsequential conversation. The two friends stood in front of the trolley, where the witch kept giving Harry lustful glances.

"He's bringing in witnesses," Ron said to the black-haired man in a conspiratorial voice and then turned to the skinny witch, who was dressed in ridiculous floral robes. "Good morning. One ham sandwich with mustard only, one chicken burrito and a vanilla flavoured latte, please." The witch, however, seemed unable to do anything else besides stare at the Golden Boy, which was annoying both men to no end. Ron sighed. "I would also appreciate it if I got my food some time around this century." The witch glared at the redhead, but complied with his request with no more than a grunt. He paid for his food, and Harry placed his order –a ham sandwich, a tangerine, and a cinnamon flavoured latte- afterwards. Ron took notice of the fact that the witch appeared to fill Harry's cup of coffee a little more than she had his, and a bit annoyed, he murmured something that sounded unbelievably close to "Bloody fans!". After the beloved hero had paid, they found a table near a magical window and sat down to indulge in their food.

"Witnesses? What kind of witnesses?" Harry said as he took his tangerine and smelled it deeply after peeling it. He loved the smell of tangerines. He bit one of the succulent segments, and marvelled at the sour sweetness that filled his mouth. Ron, who had a mouthful of burrito and ham sandwich revolving around in his nearly-closed mouth, swallowed hard a few times before being able to speak.

"Witnesses who can validate Malfoy's support for the Dark Lord. It seems the prosecutor had his pick! There are a lot out there wanting to testify against the stupid ferret." Harry tilted his eyebrow at the childish comment, but Ron just shrugged it off.

"That doesn't mean the stories are true, Ron. People are biased against the Malfoys." Ron gave Harry a scornful look for what the redhead believed to be the most ingenuous of comments in the history of ingenuous comments.

"I can't believe you are so certain about that git's innocence. Good Circe, Harry! That bleached idiot made our life a living hell at Hogwarts, and it's not a secret how he so vehemently believed in purity of blood and all that crap! I bet that even now, with Voldemort long vanished from the face of the earth, he still worships his picture behind closed doors. His father was Voldemort's key man; of course the stupid ferret supported the madman."

Harry remained quiet for a few seconds, staring into space whilst thoughtlessly eating his tangerine. His emerald eyes veiled the deep frustration he was feeling over the fact that his best friend still hadn't gotten over his hate for Draco Malfoy, even after all these years. He had thought that being an Auror had taught Ron something about life and the grey spectrum it unavoidably swings upon. Harry thought about his own situation. He had killed many during the Second War, and he was considered a "hero" because of it. Malfoy, on the other hand, had denigrated and patronized people all his life, but he had never raised his wand and said the Killing Curse to anyone. Still, the blond was the one considered "evil" and "dangerous" because of his kinship; an irony if he ever knew one. Harry took a sip of his coffee with that thought spinning around in his mind.

"I stick to the facts," he said after a short while, and Ron scowled over his practically-gone burrito. "I don't want to remember how many mistakes we've made because we followed our own prejudiced assumptions. What if we are wrong about Malfoy? What if he really didn't support Voldemort?"

"Why didn't he help the Order, then?" was Ron's quick reply. "The bastard could have been of some help, being a Slytherin and a known-Death Eater's son!" he continued, emphasizing the last words. "But no! The stupid coward flew from the country when things got a little rough. You know what? Now that I think about it, maybe you are right! He couldn't have been a Death Eater. He's too pathetic to fit the profile."

Harry sighed with annoyance as he casually brushed away some locks of hair that had strayed over his eyes. "Can you be just a little objective, here? I'm not saying the prick is a saint. In fact, I can't count the times I wanted to hex his stupid arse for all the things he did to us, but that doesn't mean I am going to take this opportunity to even the score and send him to Azkaban over false allegations. It isn't right, Ron, and you very well know that what Ralph Luton is doing with this inheritance hearing isn't right either."

Ron, who had finished his food and was currently taking his time savouring his vanilla latte, looked at his best friend with a thoughtful expression on his face as he contemplated Harry's words.

"Ok. Maybe it is a little fishy that Luton is turning the hearing into a trial of sorts, but it's about bloody time someone did just that! We have been chasing Death Eaters for the last eight months, Harry, and if Draco Malfoy is one of them this is the best chance we have to lock him in for good. Did you know it wasn't even him who filed the petition for the inheritance assessment? It was Severus Snape!"

"So?" Harry replied nonchalantly, swallowing a big bite of his sandwich and licking a drop of mayonnaise that had escaped to the side of his mouth. "Snape is his godfather, for Merlin's sake. He was the only one here to handle all the paperwork after Narcissa's death."

"Well? What do you say about that? His mother was dying of cancer whilst her precious son was tanning in the Mediterranean! I should have thought the stupid bloke would be that clichéd. I swear, if I had known he was hiding in Greece, I would have apparated there and got him myself!"

The Golden Boy didn't know if he should laugh or argue the statement. "Yes, it is weird that he wasn't with his mother when she died. I thought they were really close." Harry finished his sandwich with one last bite. Ron just snorted.

"Close? I don't think the ferret could handle being close to anyone… besides his own conceited self, that is. Mum told me it was obvious she was sick. Narcissa visited Hogwarts a few times during this past year, and Mum said that the last time she saw her she was pretty bad already." Harry frowned as he took a sip of his coffee.

"Narcissa visited Hogwarts? Whatever for?"

"Who cares? She was probably complaining about Malfoy's poor education in the Dark Arts or something."

"Weird." The dark-haired wizard mused out loud, lost in secret reveries.

"And talking about Mum, I still don't get why she volunteered for Pomfrey's job. She loves complaining about how reckless the students are these days, but I guess she needed something to fill up her time now that all her kids have practically left the nest," Ron said with a gleeful smile; his clear blue eyes shining mischievously. "By the way, she didn't like it that you sent Ginny home so late last night."

That little comment brought Harry crashing back to reality.

"Really? Is she really mad?" the Boy Who Lived asked sheepishly, already dreading his next visit to the Burrow. Molly Weasley's temper was something he thought even Voldemort didn't want to come across.

"Nah," Ron laughed at Harry's panicked face. "She is just overreacting, as always. She'll get over it."

"I hope so… Bugger! I shouldn't have fallen asleep last night."

"Oh, Ginny told me you had another nightmare. Was it bad?" the redhead said, showing concern for his friend. Harry looked a little aghast at that comment, which Ron understood as an unspoken 'Like Hell'.

"Er… it was nothing, really." Liar, the Boy Who Lived told himself. "I don't even remember very much of it." Wicked, sinful liar. Why did Ron have to bring that up now?

"Well, I seriously believe you need to get some help for those nightmares, mate. It's not normal that you keep having them," the redhead said with a worried face, much to Harry's chagrin.

"I'm fine, Ron. It's just stress or something." The aforementioned wizard gave him a sceptical look. "Honestly! You know, with all the work we've been having and this bloody hearing and everything. Don't worry about it." Harry finally finished his coffee and stood up, consciously going for a change of subject. "We better go now. It's almost ten. The courtroom must be crowded by now."

Ron nodded and stood up as well, stretching out his long limbs and fixing his robe collar.

"Well," the redhead said with a grin on his face. "It's Showtime!"

Harry rolled his eyes in mock annoyance, shaking his head half-heartedly at the other wizard's foolish demeanour. However, the Golden Boy couldn't ignore the strange feeling that had settled itself in the pit of his stomach all of the sudden. Something told him this hearing wasn't going to be as "quick" as Ron had suggested.

"Yeah, come on. Let's go."

The two men exited the small cafeteria and got into the elevator that would take them to the second floor of the Ministry of Magic, where the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Wizengamot held their headquarters.

Little did they know, Showtime was exactly what they and everybody else was in for.

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TBC…

Author Notes

Animus Salutor: Hopefully (and I say that because I don't know much about the language) it means "Soul Visitor" in Latin.

Aliter Mortis: Again, it's supposed to mean something like "other than death". I'm not a Latin Erudite, so please; don't laugh if my attempts show my ignorance rather well!