Title: The Lord of Time
Author: KimRay
Translator: kannnichfranzoesisch
Betas: lj user"elekanahmen" , lj user"anubiset"
Pairing: Harry/Draco (first 30,000 words contain some R/Hr and H/Cho)
Length: 300,000 words in german. Hopefully translated at the rate of a chapter per month.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: We do not own the characters or anything recognizable. We make no money from this; it is for entertainment only.
Summary: Near the beginning of Harry's fifth year, Voldemort takes over the Ministry of Magic and establishes dominion over Great Britain. Hogwarts succumbs to a time-freezing ward, but Harry and Draco rarely do what is expected of them. As their relationship evolves, Harry decides that to combat the Dark Lord, he must become Voldemort's equal. With the occasionally unwilling assistance of a revived Severus Snape, Harry journeys to the very brink of darkness.
Chapter 1. Deceptive Quiet
Harry's eyes wandered along the length of the train station. He was unable to suppress a relieved sigh that summer vacation was finally over. Though it had been harder to withstand than ever this year, he'd managed to survive the months with the Dursleys without losing his sanity in the process.
The events of the spring had taken their toll on Harry. His relatives had noticed; how could they not? Physically, Harry had grown taller and thinner, but those weren't the most obvious changes. His relatives had been shocked by the coldness that emanated from him. He was no longer fazed by his uncle's brutal threats, and that worried Vernon Dursley considerably. More than once, the family had come into contact with Harry's burgeoning magical abilities, and they consequently knew that he lost control a little too often for their own comfort. They'd seen firsthand the immense and unpredictable damage he was capable of causing.
And then there were the nightmares. Dark dreams that haunted Harry ever since he'd returned from Little Hangleton. Only once had Dudley attempted to make fun of the sounds he heard from Harry's room during the night; Harry's slightly unhinged glare had brought a swift end to his tirade.
Naturally, Uncle Vernon had tried to put Harry in his place for that, but he didn't quite succeed. In fact, Harry's look instilled a little fear in him, as it had in his son.
They'd been pleased that Harry had stayed out of sight, a favor Harry had been more than glad to grant them. He had his own internal struggles to deal with. Guilt that the he hadn't been able to stop Voldemort's return. Guilt that he couldn't make Fudge believe his story. Guilt over Cedric's death. He couldn't seem to work through it, so the only option he saw was to bury his guilt as deep within his subconscious as he possibly could. This kept him busy for the last weeks of the summer, and at least in this, he knew he'd been more or less successful.
He looked around the train station surreptitiously. There seemed to be a lot of activity between Platforms 9 and 10 at the moment, so it wasn't a good idea to attempt to walk through the solid stone passageway to Platform 9 3/4 yet. Harry had more than enough time, so he waited. He'd come to London by train, without permission – without even letting anyone know what he was doing.
Unfortunately it hadn't been possible for Harry to spend any time with Ron's family this summer. It was too dangerous, Arthur Weasley had said, and Harry had no choice but to accept it. The magical community was in an uproar over the rumored return of Lord Voldemort, and no one wanted to put Harry into any more danger than was necessary. He was safest if he remained with the Muggles who confined and repressed him, more and more each year. Harry had never been able to convince anyone of how awful the Dursleys truly were.
For days, Uncle Vernon had complained about the inconvenience of having to drive Harry to London, until Harry couldn't take it any more. So here he was, alone, and much too early – he'd taken the first available train. He was sure that Dumbledore and the Weasleys would be less than thrilled if they knew that he'd made the trip alone.
But none of that mattered to him. The ends justified the means. He was in London, he'd arrived at King's Cross without incident, and tomorrow he would wake up in his canopied bed in Gryffindor Tower, in the place where he belonged – Hogwarts, Britain's school of magic. Beyond that, he didn't care what the future held in store for him, except to long for the day when he'd be of age and no one could order him to go back to the Dursleys any more.
He glanced at his new watch, a birthday present from Hermione. It was getting close to ten o'clock, so he still had plenty of time before the Hogwarts Express left at eleven. At the moment, though, there weren't any Muggles in sight; the perfect opportunity to sneak through. He set his luggage cart swiftly into motion, steering directly towards the stone wall between Platforms 9 and 10 without any hesitation. He was relieved to finally be heading back to the world where he belonged.
His good spirits abruptly deflated when he smashed against another luggage cart on the other side. Hedwig's cage went flying and Harry narrowly managed to keep it from hitting the ground. He wondered who would be so stupid as to hang around right in that spot. Cursing under his breath, he placed Hedwig's cage securely back on the cart and looked up, only to freeze mid-motion when he identified the figure standing before him.
Pale gray eyes glared at him, doubtlessly wishing Cruciatus on him.
Harry felt a painful pang in his chest, followed immediately by anger as he realized that it was none other than Draco Malfoy that he'd run into. What business did this Slytherin snake still have at Hogwarts? Especially since his father had been one of the very first to reclaim his position at Voldemort's side?
"Malfoy." The name came out as a contemptuous hiss that sounded dangerously like Parseltoungue.
"Potter!" came the sneering answer, though usually Malfoy found a few more choice words than that with which to insult him.
Only then did the unusual arrangement of their luggage carts register with Harry. Malfoy must have been on his way out, in order for their carts to collide in this manner. Harry didn't need long to draw his conclusions. The sneaky little ferret had been trying to run.
Harry grinned coldly. "Did I interrupt something when I came in?" Malfoy's face went slightly pink, and Harry's grin grew even more spiteful. He'd got it in one, and was about to deliver another verbal jab when they were interrupted by a trim blond woman.
"Draco, wherever have you been?"
It took Harry a moment to realize that the woman must be Narcissa Malfoy. She looked careworn and exhausted, nothing like the haughty persona she'd portrayed last year, when Harry had met her at the Quidditch World Cup. The color in the cheeks of the blond boy deepened a little, as his mother's fingers gripped tightly into his sleeve. Fear was very clearly the emotion manifested in his gray eyes.
"All right, I'm coming already," murmured the Slytherin, almost too quietly to be heard. He turned his cart and silently shoved it towards the train. His mother followed him closely; she apparently didn't want to let him out of her sight a second time. Undoubtedly Malfoy realized that Harry had recognized his intentions, but his mother hadn't paid any attention to Harry, and he apparently wanted to keep it that way.
Harry watched him spitefully for a few moments and acknowledged that it had been quite an interesting turn of events, indeed. It seemed that there had been a few changes in the Malfoy household. It wasn't until he himself got a shove from behind and loud reproaches from a pair of third years that he moved away from the entrance to the platform. He let the complaints of the younger students wash over him, and pushed his cart further along. The incident with Malfoy preyed on his mind.
"Harry, mate! It's good to see you again! Mum was so worried this morning when she found out that you up and left your uncle's house!" Ron scrambled into the last compartment of the train and greeted Harry with a firm handshake before he fell into his seat. He had also grown a little taller and lankier over the past two months.
"I didn't fancy listening to Uncle Vernon's whinging anymore," replied Harry wryly.
"Mum nearly had a cow! Luckily, Dumbledore was there to calm her down. He said he knew where you'd gone, and that you were safe." Ron eyed Harry thoughtfully. "How are you really doing, Harry?"
Harry stared out the window. "Good... why wouldn't I be? Where's Hermione, by the way?"
"No idea. I couldn't find her earlier."
"Didn't she write us that she'd meet us on the train?"
"I think so." Ron knew very well that Hermione had written that, but he wasn't going to press the issue. He was saved from having to say more when the compartment door flew open. The train took off with a jolt just at that moment, Hermione nearly falling into Harry's lap.
"Hi, you two! –Sorry, Harry," managed Hermione, as Harry helped her up onto her knees. Then she flopped gracelessly into the seat next to Harry's.
"You won't believe it when I tell you, but guess who's sitting in the Hogwarts Express again this year?"
"No! Please no!" moaned Ron as he glanced at Harry, who suspected he knew very well who Hermione was talking about.
"You wouldn't happen to be talking about Ferret-face, would you?" The surprise on Hermione's face was plain to see, and Harry enjoyed the feeling of knowing more than she did, just this once. He proceeded to explain how he'd unknowingly thwarted Malfoy's escape attempt.
No one had believed that Malfoy would be returning to Hogwarts this year. In fact, a surprising number of the students that everyone thought would join the Dark Lord had instead turned up for the train. The only missing students were three Slytherins, one of whom was Crabbe, a Hufflepuff, and a Muggle-born whose parents had forbidden their son to return to Hogwarts.
This topic kept the three friends busy for most of the day. Unlike Harry, Ron and Hermione had been able to follow the current events in the wizarding world over vacation. Harry wasn't at all encouraged by the news Ron and Hermione had for him. It seemed that Fudge and his hands-off policy had prevailed over Dumbledore's protests, and forced Dumbledore's compliance with ministry decree. Meanwhile, the wildest of rumors were spreading rampantly, and virtually no one doubted that the worst possible scenario was at hand.
Harry was a little bitter about Fudge's position. Why couldn't people just believe that he knew what he was talking about? After all, he was the one who'd encountered Voldemort the most in the last few years. He'd been the one to secure the Philosopher's Stone, and he'd been the one to rescue Ginny from the Chamber of Secrets. And now Fudge was acting like he had no idea what he'd gotten himself involved in.
In Harry's mind, he was back in the cemetery in Little Hangleton, staring into the red snake eyes that promised not just death, but utter destruction. No matter how the ministry tried to cover it up, Voldemort was back, and Harry had played a role in his resurrection – albeit unwillingly.
"Don't think that we're all as blind as Cornelius Fudge!" Ron's words brought Harry back to the present. A look at Hermione's face told him that she believed him too. People like Arthur Weasley, Remus Lupin, and Alastor Moody didn't share Fudge's delusions. Along with other friends of Albus Dumbledore, they'd begun to establish simple measures of defense, but it was hard to accomplish much under the careful watch of the ministry. Fudge kept a very close eye on Hogwarts.
The most important reason that Fudge had been able to have his way was the lack of proof. Voldemort had yet to make a public appearance, so there was nothing to prove that Harry's testimony was the truth.
Harry asked himself what Voldemort's inaction could mean, and had the unpleasant feeling that it was a tactical decision, that it only meant the danger was even greater.
Even though nothing had officially happened, the disquiet and fear had spread. The rumor that Dumbledore, of all people, was convinced of Voldemort's return had many witches and wizards worried. Dumbledore wasn't someone you doubted, even when the ministry was saying the opposite thing. Just the possibility that Voldemort's return was real was enough to push the wizarding world into panic.
Dusk was falling as Harry stood to pull on his school cloak. Ron followed his example, but Hermione didn't move. Both boys gave her a questioning look. "Hey, Hermione, we're almost there – don't you think it's time to get changed?" Ron let himself fall back onto his seat.
Hermione looked like she might be blushing. "Guys... there's something I've got to tell you."
"What's wrong, Hermione?"
She gave Harry a pleading gaze. It was apparent that she didn't know how to begin.
"Come on, we're mates – tell us what's wrong? You look like the world's about to end or something." Without thinking, Harry took Hermione's hand and squeezed it reassuringly.
Hermione kept her face turned away. "Yeah, well, something like that," she murmured.
"Come again?" asked Harry, somewhat amused in spite of himself.
Ron was beginning to look deeply concerned. "Tell us, Hermione," he insisted.
"They've made me Prefect," murmured Hermione, a little quieter still.
Harry felt like a fool for not having thought of it sooner. If anyone had earned the right to be a Prefect, it was Hermione. Ron, however, was in a state of shock. "You can't be serious?" he demanded.
Hermione's head sunk low, but Harry had seen the hurt look in her eyes. He confronted Ron, who was being awfully obtuse about this. "Ron, come on, think about it! If anyone in our year should be Prefect, it's Hermione, don't you think?"
Ron's face went red. "But –"
"No buts! This is our Hermione, and she always will be. She's our best friend – though – maybe we shouldn't always tell her just exactly what it is we've got planned, from now on," Harry said with a wink at Hermione, which succeeded in making her grin. "But even if we do tell her, I don't think she'll tear our heads off over it, not if she agrees that we've got valid reasons."
"Harry!" A kick in his shin informed Harry that she might indeed do just that. He had to laugh as she sent him an annoyed glare.
"So tell us, who else have they picked?" Harry asked, attempting to change the subject.
"No one yet – they haven't been able to come to a decision."
"Hey, there's something new! Ron – I bet it's going to be you!" Hermione gave Harry a firm poke in his side, but he refused to let himself be distracted.
"Forget it, Harry." Ron moved towards the window with a grim look on his face and sulked. "That is really disappointing, that you have to be the one to get the badge. I mean, were you or were you not right there with us over the years, in everything we did, whether it was allowed or not? It isn't fair!"
Suddenly Harry remembered the Mirror of Erised, which he had found in an empty classroom in his first year at Hogwarts. He remembered what Ron had seen in it.
"You're just envious of her, Ron. That's really petty of you." Hermione eyes widened as Ron blushed deeply.
"That's not true!"
"Is so!"
"Is not! I... I was just too shocked about it, that's all!" Plainly embarrassed, Ron studied his hands intently. "I was just shocked, that's all. I never thought Hermione'd be picked; I just need a minute to get used to it. Of course Harry's right, Hermione, no one's earned it more than you." Ron gave her a timid look, seeking forgiveness, and Harry bit back a smirk.
Hermione's taut face began to relax. She gave Ron a little smile, moved closer, and addressed him earnestly, "It would make me so happy if you could support me, Ron."
"Err, uh huh, I mean... I think... well, we'll talk about it. Won't we, Harry?"
"Good to see you've finally noticed!"
"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, nothing special!"
"Hey, just a minute there –" As their bantering gradually lost all sense of meaning, Hermione's attention stayed riveted on Harry. For the first time since the train had left London, she felt she recognized him as the Harry she'd always known. She hoped it stayed that way, because she'd inferred from his letters that things didn't go very well over the summer, as much as he seemed to be trying to cover it up.
A half hour later, the Hogwarts Express approached Hogsmeade. Everyone collected their things and got ready to depart. Out on the platform, it was quieter than it usually was. Whatever the ministry was asserting, it didn't seem that the populace was convinced of it. The mood in the train had been tense, and it wasn't any better in Hogsmeade.
The rumors hung over the students like a threatening shadow, and none of the beginning of the year festivities succeeded in changing that – not the huge feast, not even the Sorting Hat, whose song was packed with jokes and included a few allusions to the misguided ambitions of many Slytherins. One look at that particular House table was enough to show that the Slytherins weren't feeling very comfortable at all. Harry didn't let Draco Malfoy out of his sight, but he just looked aloof and bored, same as always.
"I still don't see why Malfoy came back at all," whispered Ron into Harry's ear. "Dad said that his father disappeared completely off the radar, weeks ago! Didn't make Fudge too happy, tha's for sure. But…if he's gone back to You-Know-Who, why did the ferret bother to come back here?"
Harry knew that Ron's assertions were accurate. He'd seen Lucius Malfoy go willingly when Voldemort rose up and called his followers to his side. Harry couldn't understand how Dumbledore could be so careless about this, but he also knew that Professor Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts and the only wizard Voldemort feared, would never have allowed Malfoy to return if he'd thought it dangerous in any way.
Presumably Malfoy's mother also had something to do with it, just like at King's Cross. Harry couldn't get Narcissa Malfoy's appearance out of his head. She'd been afraid, that much was certain – afraid for her son. This notion also wouldn't let him alone, even as he lay in his bed in Gryffindor Tower that night. Though he'd told his friends that Narcissa Malfoy had been the one to force her son to get on the train, he hadn't told them what he suspected was the reason for it.
The idea that anyone would love Malfoy enough to want to protect him from Voldemort was tremendously grating to Harry, mostly because it made him quite envious of Malfoy. That particular fact wasn't one he wanted to share with his friends. Narcissa Malfoy had permanently destroyed the cold and dispassionate impression she'd left him with a year ago.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut stubbornly.
He didn't want to keep thinking about the fact that Draco Malfoy, of all people, was lucky enough to have a mother who loved him, and would pay any price to protect him, even against his will.
Why the stupid ferret obeyed his mother's wishes was another question Harry didn't want to ponder.
Life settled down to normal at Hogwarts, or as normal as it could get, given the circumstances. Classes had always been stressful, but this year's double-dose of Professor Snape made it worse. Snape had gotten his wish to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, and he maintained his position as Potions Master as well, much to the distress of the students. Dumbledore had tried to find a suitable candidate for the DADA post, but the political climate had made it impossible to find anyone.
Just having Snape for one class was enough of a horror for the Gryffindor students. The fifth-year Gryffindor class was especially stricken by the news, while the Slytherins, with whom they would share both classes, could barely contain their malicious glee. Back in third year, Snape had occasionally filled in teaching the Gryffindor DADA class, and he'd taken full advantage of the opportunity to demonstrate their incompetence.
Nobody was more disappointed than Harry about Snape's dual post. Harry could not stand the evil git. In fact, the only thing that could possibly eclipse Harry's hatred of Snape was Snape's hatred of him.
The only thing that served to comfort Harry at all was the fact that Malfoy was indeed at Hogwarts against his will. This was proven by another thwarted escape attempt. In only the second week of the term, Malfoy had been caught trying to leave the school grounds. His escape ended abruptly when he ran into one of Dumbledore's defense wards. The Headmaster personally assigned him two weeks of detention with Madam Pomfrey, since he suspected that Argus Filch and Severus Snape might sympathize with the errant Slytherin and not treat him as severely as he deserved.
Harry was convinced that the fact that the story had got out to the entire school disturbed Malfoy much more than any sort of detention ever could. Ron had the time of his life when the story made the rounds at breakfast the next morning. Harry couldn't resist joining in the taunting as well.
It was just so laughable. What did Malfoy think he was going to accomplish? Did he think that one could simply up and leave Hogwarts whenever the mood struck, especially now, when the threat of the Dark Lord was so ubiquitous?
Harry wasn't sure that he himself would've been able to make it to Hogsmeade via one of the secret passageways, and here Malfoy thought he could do it just by setting out for a stroll through the Forbidden Forest. Harry wasn't in the habit of underestimating Draco Malfoy just because he was a spoiled brat, so he couldn't understand how the Slytherin could have been so stupid as to try it.
Nobody knew exactly where the protective wards of Hogwarts ran. The Weasley twins had theorized that they moved around over time. The chances of escape were theoretically best through the Forbidden Forest, but Harry would never have dreamed of attempting escape that way. The Forest was much too dangerous.
Malfoy must have been really desperate to make that kind of move, and Malfoy's desperation amused Ron to no end. The great Draco Malfoy, self-proclaimed king of the Slytherins, who saw himself as the right hand of his precious father, couldn't even manage to get out of Hogwarts to join him. But the thing that really gave Ron stomach cramps from laughter was the obvious way that the other Slytherins were shunning Malfoy now.
Ron and Harry's fun lasted until Hermione had had enough.
"You two are completely impossible, do you know that?"
"But Hermione, let's be honest – he's earned this!" Ron defended himself. He was dead serious in this – for once, Malfoy was the dumb one.
"It's not about him, it's about you!" That comment irritated both boys.
Ron frowned. "What's that supposed to mean, then?"
"It's time for you to stop behaving like little children who have nothing better to do than laugh yourselves silly over the misfortunes and hurt feelings of others!"
"Hurt feelings?" Ron shot back, covering his bruised ego with indignation. The words "feelings" and "Malfoy" were so shockingly incompatible.
"Feelings, yes. Do you have a problem with the word?" Ron reddened, and Harry got the feeling that they were talking about something else entirely now.
"No... of course I don't..." Ron was replying, "but Malfoy doesn't have any feelings for us to hurt, especially not any feelings of shame. And anyway, he brought this upon himself!"
"It wouldn't hurt you either, Ronald Weasley, to develop some feelings of shame, given the way you've been acting!" snapped Hermione angrily. "Maybe it would give you just the push you need to grow up already!"
Ouch, thought Harry. That would sting, and Hermione seemed to realize it as well. She jumped up and stormed out of the room.
Ron was in no mood to laugh any more. He looked abashed as he watched Hermione go. He understood her implications – Hermione was annoyed, had been annoyed for quite a while, and he was the reason for it. She'd had enough of his refusing to talk about his feelings, and acting like an idiot when she tried to just be nice to him.
Since the start of term, Hermione'd been attempting, quite conspicuously, to be as nice as possible to Ron – at least up until a week or so ago. It was a complete about-face from their constant bickering and the frequent cold shoulder she'd showed him last year. Ron suspected that he knew what conclusions he ought to draw from that, but it didn't help him know what to do about it.
Hermione was the most straightforward person he knew, but he still didn't have the courage to admit that he liked her. The worst part was that she seemed to know that already, and she refused to make a move until he'd shown the courage to make the first step.
She seemed to be losing her patience with him, and Ron let himself sink deeper into the couch cushions sullenly. He knew he was being irrational, but he suspected that if anyone tried to reason with him about it, he would hex them faster than Hermione learned a new charm.
Ron shot Harry an accusative look and asked himself if Harry had picked up on anything. But Harry's thoughts must have been miles away, judging by the gloomy look on his face.
"What's wrong, Harry?"
Harry looked up at the question. "Nothing... why?" He suppressed his thoughts of Cho, who he'd run into this morning on the main staircase, and who had sent him a strange look. The heated argument between Ron and Hermione had made him contemplate his own relationship problems.
"You look like you're worried about something," pressed Ron.
"Don't be silly!" he replied dismissively, though it bothered him to be less than honest with Ron.
But Ron grinned benignly, and a completely new expression took hold of his face. "Would this happen to have something to do with Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw who bumped into you so discreetly this morning?"
Unfortunately for Harry, when it came to the feelings of others, Ron had no problem getting right to the point. Harry blushed and stared into the flames in the fireplace, but he couldn't think what to say. He found the whole situation irritating, because he'd buried the feelings he'd had for Cho last year just as deeply as everything else associated with Cedric's death.
Ron was grinning broadly. "She looked so surprised. In a good way, mate, I mean…like she was awfully happy to see you back."
That was precisely the fact that was causing Harry so much concern. She'd been Cedric's girlfriend, even though he hadn't realized it until after Cedric's death. Surely it was impossible that she'd forget about all that, impossible that she'd smile at him as adoringly as she'd seemed to this morning. Harry was silent, and Ron began to realize he wouldn't be getting any answers out of Harry tonight.
Harry never discussed things like that, and since no one had dared to question him directly, people had been plaguing Ron with questions about it all day. Ron had no idea how to answer them, and anyway, he didn't want to. Harry was his best friend, and Ron owed it to him not to aid in the spreading of any nasty rumors.
Ron didn't press Harry any further, and presently forgot about the whole thing completely, because he finally worked up the nerve to ask Hermione to go out with him.
Harry had to hide his grin every time the two of them tried to act as if things hadn't changed. They pretended that it was coincidence that they both disappeared at the same time. Somehow, they managed to keep everyone believing that nothing had changed. No one but Harry knew that Ron and Hermione had become an item.
It was a puzzle to Harry as to how they accomplished it, when to him, they were more than obvious.
Most of the time, Harry felt like a third wheel when he was with them, and he tried to leave them alone together as much as he could. Ron and Hermione didn't notice. Without a doubt, they were living in their own private world at the moment.
Harry had his own problems to deal with. The situation with Cho wouldn't leave him any peace. She'd been taking more and more opportunities to show her interest, so that he really wasn't able to concentrate on anything else any more. The whole thing was getting spooky.
Ron was currently on cloud nine with bliss, and wasn't very helpful to Harry when he asked for advice. His only counsel had been, "Why don't you just go with it, Harry, you know you've always liked her!" That wasn't precisely the help Harry had been hoping for. He wished Ron would have said something to reinforce his misgivings. When he realized his line of thinking, he asked himself if he wasn't becoming just a little paranoid.
After all, why shouldn't Cho be able to get over Cedric's death this quickly?
Maybe it wasn't as hard for her as it was for... other people. Harry was pretty sure he would be needing quite a bit more time to get over it, if he was able to get over it at all. He'd been the one to suggest that he and Cedric win the Triwizard Tournament together, even though Cedric had wanted to let Harry have the victory alone. Harry didn't think he would ever be able to put his guilt behind him, and he had no idea where to go with Cho from here.
"Hey, Potter, all by your lonesome yet again? Doesn't anybody love you any more?"
Harry's shoulders fell. He was on his way to Professor Snape, who had decided to give him yet another detention for alleged impertinence. The one thing that had been missing so far from his horrible afternoon was Malfoy.
"Is it any of your business?" he returned angrily.
Malfoy's face moved close to his own, so that Harry could feel hot breath on his cheeks. "I find it very interesting that the Golden Child of the Gryffindors is left so sad and alone. Poor, poor Harry, is something worrying you, perhaps?" Malfoy's words dripped with sarcasm.
Harry looked directly into his cold gray eyes and felt the icy hatred building within him, so typical of his encounters with Malfoy, who was like a red flag for him. They hadn't run into each other very often lately, most likely because the stupid ferret was still sulking, so it angered Harry even more that Malfoy had chosen today to try to get on his nerves. He was determined not to let Malfoy have his way.
"On the other hand, it's become quite normal now to see you alone – not even poor stupid Gregory Goyle will take pity on you! It's so sad, isn't it, when someone as evil as you can't even manage to escape his own school!"
Draco's forced grin was more like a grimace. He was still incensed that Dumbledore's ward had caught him, as he'd tried to force his way through it on his way to his father. Who would have thought the obnoxious old man would have put wards inside the Forbidden Forest? None of Draco's tricks had worked, nothing could get him out of it, and he'd remained frozen to the spot until Snape and the half-giant had turned up. Draco was grateful that his Head of House had been there, for he didn't trust the half-giant as far as he could throw him. And that wasn't far.
"It's all just a matter of opinion." Draco's dismissive reply was much more nonchalant than he actually felt.
"Oh yeah? A matter of opinion, is it? You sure seem to have been quite offended by it... I bet Mummy is so pleased that you're still at Hogwarts, isn't she?" At that, Malfoy's face turned to ice, and Harry knew that he was right – Malfoy was caught tight on his mother's short leash. "Did I hit a sore point there? No, it can't be true – the aloof Draco Malfoy just couldn't be such a little mummy's darling, could he?"
And with that, he turned and left Draco Malfoy standing stock still behind him.
Draco had been struck speechless at Potter's verbal attack, and for the few moments it took to pull himself together, he could only glare at Potter's back with hatred. His anger at his mother, which had been simmering within him ever since the failed escape attempt, exploded exponentially. The annoying part was that he didn't want to be mad at her. His mother was the only person he felt truly understood him, and he knew that she only wanted the best for him.
He couldn't figure out why she'd distanced herself so much from his father. She'd been doing that ever since his father had placed himself at the Dark Lord's side. He'd studied the problem for months, but come to no conclusions whatsoever.
Right now, though, he had another problem to deal with. Potter.
He couldn't allow Potter to get away like this. If the news about his mother got around, he would never hear the end of it; there would be no recovery from that. It might very well be, that most of the students were scared of him enough that they'd keep quiet, but some of the students would still whisper and giggle – he couldn't stand to have any more of his secrets publicly exposed.
Fiercely determined, he set off after Potter. He caught up with him on the moving staircase, and he was pleased to note that there was no one else in sight. It was time for supper, and most of the students were in the Great Hall. Potter didn't even notice him at first, as the stairs shifted and twisted. Suddenly, the two of them were at a small landing that Draco had never noticed before.
Undecidedly, both boys hovered on the bottom step, hoping that the stairs might change their mind. They showed no inclination to do so. Draco gave up and stepped onto the landing. He gifted Harry with his icy look again.
Harry was not impressed. "Well, that's just great! Stuck with Malfoy in the middle of nowhere. That's something else I really didn't need tonight. What do you want, anyway?"
"Do you really have to ask, Golden Boy?" Malfoy's tone was cutting.
Harry began to feel for his wand. "I'm warning you, Malfoy!"
"Oh? Warning me of what? Of you?" Malfoy came two steps closer, and forced Harry to move backwards defensively.
Harry's back hit the wall. "Well, you see, it's just a matter of opinion," he threw Malfoy's own pathetic excuse back in his face.
The blond boy didn't let it get to him, and took another menacing step towards Potter. Draco was pleased to see him try to back up still further, though he was completely out of room.
"Scared, Potter?"
"Dream on, Malfoy."
"Oh yeah? Then why do you keep backing away?"
"Well, I've got no desire to get too close to you, have I?"
A cold smile was his only answer, and Draco shoved him hard against the wall. Malfoy was stronger and quicker than Harry had given him credit for. Before he could prevent it, Malfoy had him pinned tight against the wall. Harry cursed his own carelessness – now he had no freedom of movement at all.
It was clear to Draco that his victim had acted too slowly and was now without any options. Apparently, Potter thought he wasn't worth any effort at all – but the Gryffindor was about to find out that he'd miscalculated. "What now, Golden Boy?"
Harry wouldn't give Malfoy the satisfaction of a useless attempt to get away. The Slytherin held the upper hand at the moment, but Harry had his wand in his hand, even though it was still stuck in the sleeve of his robe. He suspected he knew what the reason for this sudden attack was, and he was curious to find out if Malfoy would give anything else away.
"What is it that you want, you little ferret?"
Silver eyes narrowed to tiny slits. Yet another sore point, resulting in one more point to Harry, who couldn't manage to keep the triumphant grin off his face. It was just so amusing, how easy it was to get to Malfoy these days.
"Was it something I said? Too bad that Moody had to turn you back – ow!" A solid punch in the ribs took Harry's breath away and stopped him from making further commentary. Draco's arm pushed up on his chin to keep it that way.
"I wouldn't lean too far out any windows, Potter," hissed Draco, his voice full of restrained fury. An icy chill made its way down Harry's spine. He tried to speak, but Malfoy wasn't letting him get enough air for that.
"It's clear to me that your measly brain doesn't understand most things it hears, so let me put it in nice small words for you: if you keep talking about things that don't concern you, there just might be a horrible accident... it might not even happen to you. After all, it wouldn't be the first time the Mudblood was in the wrong place at the wrong time, now would it?" Harry shoved forwards irately, but the only thing he achieved with his effort was more intense pressure on his windpipe.
Malfoy gave a mean-spirited grin at Harry's ineffective attempts to free himself. Harry collected his emotions as best he could and tried to work his wand free of his cloak. That was the last time he'd store his wand in his sleeve, he vowed. As long as Malfoy wasn't letting him get any air, though, his wand was his only hope.
"Good. I think we understand each other," scoffed Draco. He so enjoyed the feeling of having Potter completely under his control.
Harry couldn't stand to see the smugness in Malfoy's face, and couldn't manage to keep his mouth shut. Malfoy hadn't mentioned it, but Harry was sure that it was the comment about Malfoy's mother that had instigated this whole thing.
As soon as he could get air into his lungs, he said, "Man, Malfoy, you must really be panicking."
"What are you on about, Potter?"
"It would be awful, wouldn't it, if word were to get around about how tight Mummy keeps you on her little leash?" The pressure on his throat came back painfully. For a moment, Harry could get no air at all, but at the same time, he finally worked his wand free of his sleeve.
"You don't seem to have understood me yet, Potter!" The look on the Slytherin's face was murderous.
"Get your paws off me!" coughed Harry, and for a moment, Draco wondered at Harry's sudden outburst. Then he felt the tip of a wand between his ribs and cursed himself for his inattentiveness. How did the bloody bastard get hold of his wand all of a sudden? He didn't want to give in so easily, but the poke in his ribs intensified painfully.
"I'm warning you, Malfoy! Get your hands off!" For a moment, the pressure on Harry's neck was nearly unbearable, but then Malfoy took a step backwards.
"Don't think that this changes anything, Potter!"
Harry wasn't stupid enough to doubt the sincerity of Malfoy's threats. The little ferret was sneaky enough to pull it off, and he seemed to know just how to get to him. Even if Harry kept a close watch over Hermione, Malfoy might still find a way.
He hadn't been planning on starting any rumors about Malfoy and his mother, anyway. He hadn't done it up to now, though he'd had ample opportunity, and he had no intention of doing it in the future. He liked having something to hold over his rival, though.
"Oh, I think it changes something, Malfoy. If anything happens to my friends, the whole school will learn that the wannabe-Death Eater Draco Malfoy is nothing but a weak little mummy's darling! You can count on that!"
It came out a little sharper than Harry had intended, but Harry could not, under any circumstances, reveal that he was jealous of Malfoy and his mother. It was painful enough just to admit it to himself.
His adversary was silent. Apparently, they were in perfect agreement. At least the stairwell seemed to think so, for it finally moved away from the tiny landing. Harry hurried down to the other end of the stairs, quick to get out of the Slytherin's reach.
Draco watched Harry go, mulling over the events of the past few minutes Though still boiling with anger, the blond boy was convinced that Potter wasn't a danger to him as long as he kept away from Potter's friends.
It wasn't precisely what he'd been hoping for, but it would do.
He made his way to the dungeons, sunk deeply in his own thoughts. His appetite was gone, and he had no desire to hang around with his housemates. The fact that he was as good as imprisoned here in Hogwarts angered him so much that he couldn't deal with the stupidity of his house on top of it. These days, they were always blabbering on about not knowing where they belonged and whose side they should be on.
Why did his mother have to be so stubborn, anyway?
If only she would explain why she didn't want him to join up with his father and the Dark Lord. But no, she wouldn't even give him that much consideration; she simply forced him to follow her wishes.
Draco didn't like to admit it, but he practically idolized his mother. Too many times, she'd protected him from his father's wrath; too many times, she'd stuck up for him when he couldn't figure out what he'd done wrong, or when it was simply impossible for him to meet his fathers expectations. Narcissa Malfoy was the only human being alive to whom he felt indebted, even if he didn't like the feeling. Even if he hated himself sometimes for loving his mother so unconditionally.
To Draco's relief, the whole incident was gradually forgotten. Potter kept his word, though Draco didn't dare to provoke him any further. Things began to go Draco's way, as he always expected them to.
Since the Hogwarts Quidditch Tournament had been cancelled last year, all the House teams had to be built fresh. Draco was in luck, and it came as no surprise when Professor Snape named him team captain. The intimidating way he selected his team left no doubt as to who was in charge of Slytherin House.
The only bit of bad news to be found was that McGonagall had made Potter team captain as well. Only Potter didn't seem as pleased about his new position as Draco was. Potter was of the opinion that he didn't have enough experience, as a fifth-year, for the role of captain. That, of course, just gave the stupid Gryffindors an excuse to praise him for his modesty, and to judge him even more worthy of the captainship.
Draco found the whole thing nauseating and tried to ignore it. It was too bad that Flint and Wood had been in the same year, and had both graduated last spring.
It was the night before the first Quidditch match – Slytherin vs. Gryffindor, as fate would have it – when everything ratcheted out of control.
Harry was at the end of his ropes with nerves, even though the whole team was convinced that he was doing a good job. Supper was just ending. Ron and Hermione, intent on not letting him out of their sight, flanked Harry as he made his way to leave. Harry knew they were worried about him, but his reassurances did nothing to appease them. It didn't help matters that he hadn't been able to keep down a bite of food for days.
But all of that was forgotten as Dumbledore's magically amplified voice sounded through the halls and passageways, calling all the students back to the Great Hall. Worries other than Quidditch immediately took hold of the students, whose faces all mirrored the same grim look.
It couldn't bode well to be called back, but at least there was one advantage; Harry's fears about tomorrow's match disappeared, as if they'd been blown away by a sudden wind.
The facts that the Headmaster imparted to them surpassed their worst fears, and the students fell into shocked silence.
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had attacked the Ministry of Magic. It was now completely under his power, and he had thereby taken control of Great Britain entirely.
Hogwarts was the last institution in the English wizarding community not yet in his grip.