Blaise Zabini knew there was something his best friend wasn't telling him. He knew something more than he was letting on about the article in the paper today.

But Blaise was used to secrets, being the generation with the most heirs everyone around him had secrets and those secrets had secrets. but Blaise knew his friend, and he knew well enough when to leave something alone and when to 'poke the bear' so to speak.

He understood the way people worked, they all fit into certain molds in his mind except Harry. Harry was studious yet a mischief-maker, he pulled pranks off like no man's business and evaded the consequences easily. he was a horrible liar to people he loved yet could lie flawlessly when required to.

But he also knew that Harry would never let any harm come to him. He trusted Harry with his life and it was returned he hoped.

He also knew Harry had a tendency to take on too many things at once. It had happened in 3rd year when he had tried to take all the electives. Honestly, the boy was an overachiever.

He was also happy for Harry. For finally finding someone who loved him for him. He knew Harry had trouble believing people cared about him genuinely at first, hell even Blasie had to force him to understand that he wasn't going anywhere. No matter what.

He had been suspicious at first, he had a right to be obviously. He knew Harry wasn't above lying to get Blaise off his back. But the way he talked about the man, the fucking Dark Lord if Harry was to be believed, he knew Harry was insane for it. But Harry knew how to read people, his mother was Narcissa Malfoy for fucks sake.

But he couldn't help but be worried about his best friend. Well, he was going to meet the man so he could be the judge whether Harry was telling the truth or if he had to kill the Dark Lord, he would find out soon enough.

He couldn't wait till his NEWTS were over. They were aptly named. It wasn't even exam season and he was still stressed. He wondered if he was slowly going insane.

Could insane people tell they were going insane?

He felt another headache coming on as he stared blankly at the book in front of him. He wondered what Marvalo was doing, probably paperwork. Honestly, that man had so much paperwork for a Dark Lord.

That's why it was such a bad career option, the monumental amount of paperwork. He snorted derisively and wondered again if he was going insane. Perhaps it was the fumes from the parchment, he knew that shop was shady.

He stared at the page he has stuck on blankly again and wondered how long it would take for him to give up. He had been studying for hours and it seems his brain was refusing new information.

He mentally added meditation to his to-do list before sleeping. He needed to keep his mind palace in top shape for his exams.

Shutting the book with a snap he wandered down to the dungeons and into his common room.

There were people around the room, mostly sitting and relaxing. The fire burned in the hearth, taking away the cold that came with living in the dungeons.

"Malfoy," he heard a voice call from behind him.

He turned around and was surprised to find David. David barely spoke. He was on the Quidditch team, and he mostly communicated through grunts and looks. David was an average player overall. He was a substitute for keepers and only played occasionally when they were short of a player.

David had a normal sort of face with thick eyebrows and hazel eyes. What surprised him, though, was that David was holding a letter with very familiar loopy handwriting on it.

"What?" Harry said, trying to sound calm. Why did David have a letter from Marvalo? Perhaps something had happened. He glared when David didn't respond immediately, and that certainly got him talking.

"Um, Professor Snape said to give you this letter," he said slowly. "I didn't read it or open it, I just got it, I swear," he said in response to another glare being directed his way. Harry held his hand out for the letter.

His breath was short and slightly labored as he speed-walked to his room and shut the door with his feet. He sat in bed and closed the curtains around him and opened the letter.

The letter was written on the same parchment Marvalo usually used to write all his letters.

Ripping the letter open hastily, he let in a sharp breath at the loopy writing looking shakier.

Hadrian,

I'm sorry to inform you that your father has been injured in a battle that occurred at the Ministry yesterday. It has not appeared in the papers yet, but I fear that sooner or later it will.

I would rather you hear it from me than from the newspaper. He is in critical condition and was transported to St. Mungos immediately. He was not an active participant but was caught in the crossfire.

The wizard who dared hurt your father was Remus Lupin. He threw a bone-shattering curse that collided with an entrail expelling spell before it hit your father.

I am unsure as to what the spell does but am hopeful the qualified curse breakers at St. Mungo's can fix any effects it had on his body.

I plead with you not to make any hasty decisions and to think before you act. At least until your mother's letter reaches you, it is imperative that you pretend you are not in the know . You may, of course, tell Draco.

I am sorry that I could not be of further help. I have begun researching the curse, but the arithmancy seems to be off every time I try and work it out. My skills seem to be only sub-par in the subject.

Yours, Marvalo

The Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Slytherin

Heir to the Ancient House of Gaunt

Harry let out a choked sob. His father-. His father was hurt. He had never felt so afraid as fear gripped him. He jumped out of his bed and, putting his shoes back on, stumbled his way into the common room.

Everyone froze at his somber face and the tears in his eyes. Harry rarely cried, and if he did, it was usually for a good reason.

"Where is Draco?" Harry asked, ashamed to say his voice cracked in the middle.

"Right here, Har," Draco said, getting up from his seat and walking down the corridor back into the dorm so that they could talk in private.

"Dads been injured " harry burst out as soon as the door clicked shut. Draco stared. It had been a while since Harry had called him dad, in fact, he had taken to calling him father because of Draco and the name had remained through their childhood.

He shoved the letter into Draco's hand and plonked it on the bed after kicking off his shoes. He couldn't be bothered to straighten them, which said a lot about how bothered he was.

Curling up on the bed, he blinked hurriedly when he felt tears filling his eyes. He could not. He would not cry. He would wait for his mother's letter, and he would ask Professor Snape for permission to go home.

He couldn't stay here, not when his mother was alone at home.

Glancing up, he looked at Draco, who had gone paler than he was before.

Draco nodded as Harry told him what they should do. Draco suggested telling Professor Snape as well.

Walking out of the dorm, he couldn't help but feel that this was going to be a difficult couple of weeks.