A/N:
Thank-you to everyone who reviewed!
I might star tying in the sixth book now… you all have been warned.
Disclaimer: I OWN JACK SQUAT…. sigh but not Harry Potter. Nope… Damnit.
------25------
He stared at the redhead in silence, and Ron stared back.
"Well?" Harry asked again, backing away; "I don't want to fight with you, Ron, and I don't want to see another person get sucked into a war that has only just begun."
Ron looked down; "Harry, you know my parents," he said desperately, looking up; "And there are a lot like them."
"Ron, you have to fly from the nest sometime;" Harry said; "We all do," he said, looking around; "Now, I don't know what the age range is in here, but I will say this. I asked you all to come not so you could get help on exams, or practice spells without teachers knowing. No, I asked you to come here, willing to train. I don't want people dying, and I think education is a way around that. But also, I think maturity is needed as well. You have to understand the stakes and the risk. So please, if you do not want to prepare for bloodshed and death, you had best leave. I can't promise a cute, padded experience. War is hell, pure and simple. And we're all up against the toughest demons. So please, if you are not sure…"
His voice trailed off. Two people got up, from Ravenclaw, then two more, from Gryffindor. They began to head for the door, saying quiet good-byes to those they had come with. Hermione held up a hand and got up, rushing over to the four and holding a whispered conversation. Harry picked up on it clearly.
"Are you all sure you will not be able to contend with this?" Hermione asked gently.
"No," one of the girls said, a quiver to her voice; "I… no, I can't handle stuff like this."
Hermione sighed and nodded; "I must know that you will not breathe a word of what goes on here, may I cast a simple charm?"
"Wait! What'll happen if we tell?" a boy asked cautiously.
"Horrible acne and you'll start barfing slugs," Hermione said simply with a slight shrug.
Harry withheld a snort, and he heard Draco chuckle quietly behind his hand. So he had heard as well.
Harry watched as the four complied, and Hermione waved her wand and muttered a quick incantation, and for a second, the four looked pale and green with a sickness that suddenly claimed them. But as soon as it happened, they were back to normal and they departed. Hermione returned to the circle, a small smile on her face and a single nod to illustrate that she was finished. And for a time, awkward, tense silence clung to the air.
"They were in the forth year," Cho said uncomfortably, catching Harry's attention.
"So were the other two," Hermione said, averting her gaze.
"So, it's safe to say everyone here is fifteen and up?" Harry asked, and he was returned with nods. Harry nodded, then sat back down; "Well, does anyone have anymore questions?"
"Yes, I do," Dean said; "Will we be learning any dark magic?"
Harry shrugged; "Depends on what dark magic you're referring to," Blaise said quietly.
"Yes, there might be some," Draco replied, staring directly at the Gryffindor; "Why? Surprised?"
"A little," Dean said, sinking into his seat.
"Dark magic? Harry, seriously?" Cho asked worriedly.
Again, Harry shrugged; "Sometimes doing what's right mean doing what's wrong."
"To catch snakes you must slither like them," Draco added wisely.
Hermione nodded; "He's right," she said, looking at her fellow Housemates, "They wouldn't expect that."
"We can't have one foot on each side!" a seventh year boy said.
"Welcome to my world," Draco muttered darkly, and Harry laid a hand on his arm reassuringly.
"You can," Blaise said; "How do you think we've managed to survive this long?" he held Pansy's hand; "Middle ground's all that's safe. The divide can't be that wide."
"What will Dumbledore think?"
All eyes turned to Ginny, who had whispered the question. She looked up; "Well, what will he think?"
"Wake up, Ginny," Pansy said; "Them man's hardly been around. We're probably the least of his worries. He's too busy organizing the world against the Dark Lord. That's why we should give this group a new name."
"Well, what do you suggest?" Seamus asked.
"Nothing," Pansy said; "No name at all. A nameless organization cannot be tracked, or caught. If you are in a group that has no name, who's to accuse you of being in any group at all?"
Her words brought profound realization to the group. Harry looked at her with admiration, so did Draco and Blaise. Hermione regarded her with respect, though she tried not to show it.
"Well then, all in favor of this statement raise your hands," Harry said, raising his hand up slightly.
Slowly, Draco did the same. Blaise and Pansy followed. They waited, poised, and then Hermione raised her hand as well. The other Gryffindors followed, and then the Ravenclaws did as well. Harry couldn't help as he smirked and stood, hands folded behind his back.
"Well then, I propose that the meeting be adjourned?" he asked, looking around.
"Wait!" Hermione said, drawing out a piece of parchment from her robes; "Everyone here must sign this!"
As she began reading out the writing, Harry recognized it as the Contract from the previous year. Others did, as well, and Harry saw that their signatures were still present, including his own. He sat up as, while she walked around, Hermione passed him. He sensed a wave of what, empathy? Perhaps she was finally starting to feel the pressure that he had been dealing with?
"Now, I see that many of you have returned form the previous year," Hermione said once finishing; "Your signatures are still present.
Steadily the others rose, and Harry nodded; "See you all when the coin calls."
Harry and Draco watched as the others left through the door. Pansy and Blaise left as well, groping at each other, giggling, and whispering as they did. But one person stayed behind, and walked over to the two, or more so, Harry.
Harry looked down at Hermione, as she was still a tiny five-foot-three. But she stared fiercely up at him, never breaking eye contact, and he felt at level with her, perhaps smaller. The old feeling of her being smarter, better, wiser, and worthy of friendship was slowly returning. He hated to admit that.
"Tell me there's still some lion left in you," she said quietly; "Tell me the boy who used to laugh with me is still in there," she poked his chest none too gently.
"I…" Harry began, but for the first time in months, he was at a loss for words, "I…" he sighed; "There's a chance."
Hermione nodded; "Until the coin calls, then," she said, and then turning on her heel, she left the room.
For a moment, the two vampires stood in silence; "What was that about?" Draco asked, looking at Harry.
Harry's shoulders slumped; "She knows more about it than me, I'm afraid," he replied; "Come on; let's get back to the room before Filch comes by."
"You know, some day you're going to let all of your walls down and I will understand this thing you call life," Draco said as he took Harry's hand and they departed together.
"Harry," Draco said quietly; "You're not starting to trust the mudblood again, are you?"
"To be honest, I don't know," Harry replied; "I mean, I've been thinking, was it their choice, to deceive me the way they did?"
Draco looked at Harry; "Like it or not, they did, Harry," he said; "I mean, this could be another trick, to lure you back to the Order!"
"Please," Harry said, shrugging the idea off.
"I'm serious," Draco insisted; "Dumbledore is reeling over the fact that his precious little boy wonder is no longer under his wings!"
"You're paranoid," Harry said as they made their decent down into the dungeons.
"Am I?" Draco retorted; "Harry, I'm worrying about you. I can't understand what's going on in your mind so badly that I've stopped trying to figure it out. I love you, but damnit where are you?"
Harry stopped, staring at the blonde. Draco took another step, whipped around, and faced his lover with a gaze so serious; Harry had to remember that the gray orbs were Draco's.
"Harry, please, tell me what side you're on. Ours, or theirs?" he was referring to the Order.
"Ours, why would you doubt that?" Harry asked, pulling his hand from Draco's
"I need to hear it form you, Harry," Draco said, "Don't you realize how giant the step was tonight? How much we've just risked?"
"No, Draco, I was just doing this for shits and giggles!" Harry snapped, glaring.
"Don't snap at me!" Draco shot back; "What's the matter with you? It's like you're not Harry anymore!"
"You just don't understand, Draco!" Harry said, sighing; "It'll pass, I swear on my death."
"Which isn't a safe thing to swear on," Draco muttered, but Harry ignored the comment.
"Look, can we forget about this argument, please?" Harry asked; "I'd much rather prefer sleeping beside you than being put out on the couch…"
- - -
Draco and Harry reached their quarters in silence. While Harry headed for the bedroom, Draco instead sat down on the sofa, lying down and taking a pillow into his arms and tucked it under his head. Harry paused, and looked back. Draco reached out, spread his fingers out and waved. A fire came to life behind the hearth, and Draco's hand once more was tucked beneath the pillow.
Harry walked over, hands bracing against the back of the couch as he leaned down and brushed Draco's bangs from his face so that he could gently kiss his temple.
"Normally the offender sleeps on the couch," he said lowly, chuckling.
Draco looked up at him and smiled slightly; "I'll be in bed in a second," he said quietly, then he turned his attention to the flames; "I just need to think for a while."
"Okay," Harry said; "I'll have the bed pulled down for you, then?" Draco nodded, and Harry smiled; "Love you."
"Love you too," Draco muttered, and he listened as Harry walked away and went into the bedroom.
The door slowly closed, and Draco slowly sighed. He watched the flames dance for over an hour, in empty thought, before he finally sat up. For a moment, he took time to look at his pale hands, artist's hand, yet calloused on the palms and fingertips from Quidditch. Draco hung his head as his hand reached back and pulled a folded parchment from his pocket. He held it in his hands, flipping it over, examining it with intent curiosity.
It seemed normal, it was normal, in a sense. The ink that had stained his name upon the paper was normal quill ink. It was folded like any other letter. But Draco reflected back to the earlier morning, when it had been delivered. He had been contemplating in solitude in a clearing, when the family falcon descended upon him with the silence of a skilled predator. But instead of attacking Draco, the bird merely left a small scroll, the scroll Draco now held in his hands and had caught with anxious bewilderment.
He unrolled the paper, and carefully read the letter again, the scrawled, jagged but elegant handwriting painfully clear in his memory…
Draco,
Hogshead.
Eleven o'clock.
Be there.You will know where to go.
So simply written, so quickly thought. Draco wondered for a moment if he should go. He looked at the clock. It was ten o'clock now. If he walked, he would reach Hogsmeade too late, but if he flew… Draco sighed and rose, crumbling the parchment in his fist. He glared at the fire for no reason, an outlet for his frustration. Should he go? The question repeated over and over again. Draco was growing confused, and over three simple little words…
A clicking sound seemed to explode in the silence and Draco whipped around. Oswarae perched on the edge of a bookcase, where Draco saw he had built a small nest of fabrics and herbs. Draco rolled his eyes.
"What do you want?" he snapped.
Orswarae's head tilted to the side as a glimmer in his eyes suggested that if he could smirk, he would have. /Oswarae sensed… unwanted emotions…/
The raspy voice filled Draco's head and he groaned, turning his back to the raven; "I really don't need your input right now," he ground out, teeth clinched.
/But the Master does have questions Oswarae can answer/ the bird flew from his perch and landed on Draco's shoulder. /Go, see your father/
"Why would you think that it was my father?" Draco asked, trying to stay calm. The bird's eerie ability to know what he shouldn't was unnerving. But if Oswarae knew that, he would be even more pompous.
/You are very obvious. The Master expresses himself in his eyes/ Oswarae commented. /So… will the Master go/
Draco thought for a moment; "Yes, I suppose I will," Draco mused with resolution, not wanting to admit it; "Don't tell Harry, got it?" he suddenly snapped, tapping the bird's beak.
Oswarae cawed quietly, nodded, and then flew off to his perch. Draco sighed and decided to sneak into the bedroom. He crept across the floor and found Harry's trunk. Opening it slowly, freezing whenever the hinges creaked, he finally revealed the contents of the trunk. He sifted through clothing, and couldn't help but let out a triumphant "aha" when he found his query.
Harry rolled over in a fit of slumber, and Draco hit the floor, clutching the invisibility cloak to his chest. He smirked as his love muttered "buttered toffees" before rolling over again. After a few moments or so of waiting, Draco finally got up and left the bedroom, but not before kissing Harry on the side of the cheek.
Draco walked out of the bedroom, and put on his cloak. He glanced up, and saw Oswarae settled in his nest, one beady eye locked on the blonde. Draco bowed his head, rethinking the strategy he would have to remake on the way to Hogsmeade. Sighing, he raised his head, and left.
- - -
The streets of Hogsmeade were virtually empty, the flickering of lamps being the only source of movements, aside from the shadows they cast. Draco made his way silently down the street, ducking into an alley way to take the invisibility cloak off. He suddenly realized just how cold the night was, and pulled the trench-coat like robes he wore ever closer to his body. Getting back onto the sidewalk he found the Hogshead, and entered.
It was empty, save for one old man sitting at the bar and the bartender, who eyed Draco with suspicion.
"Old guy wanted to talk to you, upstairs in room four," the bartender barked gruffly, and Draco merely shot him a look.
Draco mounted the stairs, creaky and decaying, and found the door with a rusty number 4 on it. With a slow exhale of breath, his hand reached for the doorknob, and opened the door. It slid over the dusty wood and groaned with old age, and Draco saw a well-furnished room with a blazing fire.
Off to the side, looking out a window stood the silhouette of a man. Draco stepped forward and the door closed behind him. Looking around he caught the form of another man sitting in a chair, facing the fire. The light bounced off of gaunt bones and pale hair made Draco hold his breath. The man he had grown up hating now appeared so weak, so fragile. But who was at the window? Well, who else could it be…
"Severus…" Draco said slowly, and the figure at the window turned.
"Yes?" He asked, deadly calm.
Draco took a step back. Lucius rose from his chair, turning with a grim look on his face. He was not pleased at how his son had changed in his absence. The long hair, his fraternizing with Potter... he wanted to curse the boy onthe spot, but better judgement told him otherwise.
"Boy, what have you done to your hair?" he asked snidely.
"Let it grow," Draco retorted. He looked at Severus; "What is the meaning of this? Sev…"
"Draco, you know what side I am on," Snape said wearily; "You've known…"
"And he is here with me so I will make sure you listen to me," Lucius said; "Draco, The Dark Lord wants you to join our ranks…"
"What?" No, I want no part of this war," Draco said firmly, his hands clenching into fists. He knew he was being cornered by the way both men were slowly advancing on him.
"Draco, you have had a part in this warsince the day you were born," his father seethed; "And I know what you have going on with Potter. Severus has informed me on many things…"
Draco looked at Snape; "I trusted you," he whispered, laden with the pain ofbetrayal.
Snape sighed; "It is all for the best, Draco, in the end, it is all for the best…"
"What is best for me is for me to decide!" Draco shouted.
"Not while you are still sixteen, it's not!" Lucius yelled, bearing down on Draco like a bear would a camper.
"I am a man now, Lucius!" Draco said with great animosity, but upon the lack of his father's title, he was silent.
Now Lucius was thoroughly and royally perturbed. His face was a beat red, as was his neck; "I AM YOUR FATHER AND YOU WILL CALL ME BY MY PROPER TITLE!" he roared. "AND YOU ARE NO MORE A MAN THAN A ROSE IS A WEED! YOU WILL NEVER BE A MAN, YOU COWARDLY…"
As the insults rained down upon him, Draco couldn't help but shrink back against the wall, childhood memories flooding his mind. But he remembered how it felt, and he became angry. Draco shoved his father away from him. Caught off guard, Lucius stumbled back, and Snape went to aid him.
"You impudent, loathsome, ungrateful bastard child!" Lucius roared, his face turning red.
"Lucius, control yourself!" Snape warned.
Draco walked forward, shoving Snape away so he could shove his father again; "how does it feel?" he asked, shoving again; "How. Does. IT. FEEL!"
Lucius let out a sound like a growl, and Draco felt himself flying backward, his cheekbone aching at the sudden, unanticipated action. Draco collided with the wall and slid to the ground, groaning.
"That will teach you," Lucius said, "You will respect me. Now, get up."
Draco looked at Lucius with as much hate as he could, though his eyes showed only a small fraction of the anger he harbored. Slowly, he rose, appearing weary and beaten. Lucius stepped forward, then Draco snapped. Every ounce of pent-up emotion was freed in a single moment, and Lucius' eyes were wide with surprise and horror.
Draco punched so hard that magic burst form his hand and his father screamed as he was slammed through the wall, and fell two stories down, a thud admitting the end to his descent. Draco looked down with grim satisfaction. He had waited all his life to do such a thing as what he had. Leaning back, he looked at Snape, who was staring at him.
"He is right, I have a part in the war," Draco said; "But in no way does it involve me getting branded."
"Draco…" Snape began, but Draco held his hand up.
"Mess with me, Severus, and what little respect for you I have is gone," Draco said in the same, deadly calm tone Snape spoke with; "We are through here."
And with that, he left the room.
- - -
Narcissa watched the young girl intently, worriedly. She slowly patted a wet cloth across her brow, an attempt to keep a fever down. It had been several hours since she had arrived and still there was no sign of life. Adam was at a loss as to what was wrong. He could only figure that it was shock, and that shock had placed the girl in a coma. Sabet had returned and found it odd how no one had noticed the child's differences, but rather than tell anyone what the differences were, he remained silent instead, saying that she would be the one to tell them.
Faust visited as well. He brought food and wine, and a chess board. He and Narcissa quietly rendezvoused by the large bay windows, still close to the child should she wake.
"What do you believe she is?" Faust asked that evening, while he moved a pawn physically to knock over one of Narcissa's.
"Come again?" she asked, using her knight to take out the pawn.
"You mean, you do not sense a difference in the girl?" Faust asked; "Her entire being screams bizarre…"
Narcissa nodded. She had detected an odd sense of magic from the child, but in her motherly watch she had dismissed it. "She may just be powerful," she said quietly.
"Or maybe she is not just a witch, but something else," Faust said.
Narcissa looked at him; "What, a veela?" she asked sarcastically, snorting in her laughter.
Faust smirked and shook his head; "No," he said; "Perhaps she is a… banshee, or even an elf."
"Oh please, Faust, do be rational!" Narcissa said; "Elves are supposedly gone, erased from existence."
"Aye, but who told you that? Your history books? Your Ministry?"
"Well…"
Faust nodded; "Elves are not extinct. They are hidden. Powerful magic. Their realms and homes are hidden from us."
Narcissa held her jaw from falling to the floor, choosing to lean her palm against it as her elbow leaned against the table; "Really? And how would you know?"
Faust smiled; "My mother was one," he said simply.
Narcissa's eyes widened; "Really?" she asked.
Faust nodded; "Because of that, I age normally," he said with a hit of regret; "But, it does not stop me."
"Tell me about your mother," Narcissa said; "Is it true that elves can heal just by using their hands?"
"Ah, maybe with an incantation as well," Faust said; "See, Elves have no real need for wands once they reach adulthood. My mother was so good at magic; she hardly needed to think to perform a task."
"And… where is your mother now?"
Faust sighed; "On a hillside in Italy," he said quietly, idly turning the queen piece; "She died in '83…"
Narcissa was not sure which '83 Faust was referring to. She opted for 1983, and remembered how a hold-out of rebels of the Ministry had been found, and seven had tied in the battle. Yes, there were others besides the Dark Lord who wanted the Ministry's ways to change. Elves were one group. But she had always thought that the hold-out was the final strain of Elfin blood.
"Oh…" Narcissa said; "I'm sorry, Faust…"
"Yes, well," Faust smiled; "She died with honor."
Narcissa was quiet, knowing that the conversation was through. They continued to play their game of chess, and hence the sun spindled downward to close out the day. She eventually opted for a nap, but was startled awake when she heard a scream. She looked to the bed and her eyes met bright, fiery amber ones. The fire was filled with fear, and anxiety… and anger…
The girl was awake.
At once Narcissa was on her feet, and the girl screamed a quiet gasp again, backing up and clutching the headboard, curling up in a protective ball.
"Hello?" Narcissa asked calmly, quietly, walking over to the bed. She sat down on the edge, reaching over and about to touch the girl, but she shied away so Narcissa drew her hand back to rest in her lap; "Ciao?" she asked in Italian.
The girl looked at her. "Do you speak Italian?" Narcissa asked, and the girl nodded, relaxing a little. Narcissa smiled; "I mean no harm."
"How can I be sure?" the girl asked, shaky in her defiance.
Narcissa smirked; "I've kept you alive, haven't I?" she asked.
The girl turned her gaze away, bitterly muttering; "To you, life is nothing…"
"Come again?" Narcissa asked, uneasy and wary.
The girl looked at her; "To you, life is nothing," she said louder.
"Life is cherished in my House, child," Narcissa said; "why ever would you say that?"
The girl looked away again. After a time of silence, Narcissa sighed; "Forgive my rudeness," she said; "I am Narcissa. And you are…?"
The girl looked at her, silence reigning again as fiery amber eyes looked her over, rewarding her body language, her posture, how her face showed her emotion. "You are good at hiding your feelings," the girl commented.
"You didn't answer my question," Narcissa retorted, unmoved.
The girl sighed; "They call me Aideen…"
Narcissa smiled; "I am glad we met," she said; "Would you like a bath, some food, perhaps? You must be hungry."
"Where am I?" Aideen asked.
"Hmm," Narcissa said, rising and walking over to the window. She pulled back a curtain to watch the sun setting over the mountains, then replied; "Somewhere in the French Alps, I can safely tell you," she said simply, and she looked back to see Aideen's shocked expression. "What?"
"You don't know where we are?" Aideen asked, crawling up against the headboard again.
"Oh, relax, would you?" Narcissa said exasperatedly; "It's a protected site, unmappable, untraceable, and invisible unless you are granted to see it…"
Aideen nodded; "So… how about that bath you offered?"
- - -
Draco stormed into his quarters, throwing the invisibility cloak off of him in a rush, and kicking the bedroom door open without a second thought. Harry woke up and was instantly sitting up, but Draco was atop him in a moment, eyes gleaming in the dark.
"Draco, what the…" Harry began, but a kiss stopped the youth form continuing.
Draco parted, staring at Harry; "We make love, we fool around," he said in a hushed whisper; "But tonight, I want to fuck."
"Well, this is hott…" Harry began, but was cut off again as Draco had his way with him.
TBC
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