Disclaimer: Not mine. Nope. Nope. Nope.

Denial

No matter how many times Val tried to speak to Draco over the next few weeks, she was never able to do so. He rarely ate in the Great Hall. She had visited the owlry many times but hadn't met up with him. He had apparently stopped spending time there. But the few times she had glimpsed him in the halls she was pleased to see that he no longer sported bruises. Apparently the Slytherins, who had been after him, had given up on their sport. But she was never able to catch up with him and it frustrated her.

She was also frustrated by the situation with Harry. They were never alone, and she didn't wish to discuss their feelings in the open with everyone else listening, so she had bided her time patiently. But her dreams had started to become filled with a dark haired young man who knew exactly how to elicit reactions from her that she didn't even know she was capable of. The dreams had led to many restless nights.

Val stared at her breakfast but didn't have the energy to pick up her fork. It had been another night of tossing and turning as sleep was elusive and when it had finally come she had had dreams that would make her blush if she even thought of looking up and across the table at Harry. So she didn't look up. She was half-heartedly listening to Hermione rambling on beside her. She barely noticed as the morning mail was delivered as she finally picked up her fork and started pushing her eggs around the plate.

The only thing that caught her attention was the slight gasp that Hermione gave beside her after opening her copy of the Daily Prophet. But she was used to Hermione exclaiming over this and that, so she paid it little heed. But she did notice as the table around her became very quite and she could hear whispering everywhere else in the Hall. She looked up to see several eyes upon her and Hermione was holding the paper out towards her. "Val. You need to see this."

Val reached out and took the paper. She looked at the front page and there was the smiling face of Lucius Malfoy on the front page. The Headline said in large letters "Famed Death Eater Escapes Azkaban". Val didn't read the rest of the article, but instead stared at the picture. Those cold blue eyes that she remembered so well seemed to penetrate her very soul. She could see the malicious intent they held, which was often confused for healthy ambition. But she knew better.

"What do you want to do, Val?" Hermione asked.

"What do you mean, 'Mione?" Val asked folding the paper again and handing it back to her.

"Don't you think you should talk to Dumbledore, or something?" She asked.

"About what?" Val asked picking up her fork and taking a bite of the cold eggs.

"Aren't you afraid of him? I mean. You said he has always hated you. Do you think he'd try to hurt you?" Hermione asked.

"I'm not that important to Lucius Malfoy, 'Mione. He doesn't care if I even exist. More than likely he is looking for a place to hide from Voldemort." There were several hisses around the table at her mention of the 'name that must not be mentioned'. "If anyone should be worried it should be Harry." She said finally looking at him. The mention of Lucius Malfoy had cooled her burning desires and now she had other worries on her mind.

He looked back at her and she could see that his resolve not to let this news upset him was just as strong as her own. "Hogwarts is still the safest place on earth." Harry said smiling. "Lucius won't show up here."

Hermione and Ron both stared at each other sharing the same thought. These two were off their rockers.

One student in the castle took the news of the Death Eater's escape hard, though. Draco sat in the Slytherin common room staring at his copy of the Prophet. He had been doing that off and on all day. Every free period he had was spent reading and rereading the front-page article. It was now becoming very late at night, and he was the only one left in the common room.

He had never imagined that his father would actually be able to pull it off. He had said he was working on something to help his family regain their proper place in the wizarding world, but Draco had thought he was just saying those words to give his son hope.

But hope was the last thing the article had instilled in Draco. He knew he should be happy that his father was no longer in Azkaban. It was a dreadful place for any wizard to end up in. But in Azkaban his father was safe from Lord Voldemort. And if he admitted it to himself, in Azkaban his father had no control over him, and he had rather liked the feeling of independence he felt without him.

After reading the paper for the fourth time since sitting down he threw it into the fireplace and watched as the flames licked at its edges. He could see every word curling in upon it self as if it never existed to begin with, until finally the only thing left was the face of his father staring back at him. But that face did not disappear, but changed instead. Draco watched as the green flames took the form of a human face. His father's face. "What the hell?" Draco said coming up out of his seat and moving behind the chair.

The face of Lucius Malfoy in the fire gave a reproachful look. "Get a hold of yourself, boy. Is that any way for a Malfoy to act?"

Draco immediately stood a little straighter. "Sorry, Father. You just surprised me."

"That's better. You should have known I would find a way to contact you." Lucius said sneering at his son slightly. "Anyway. I don't have long. You need to listen to me, and listen well."

Draco moved back around the chair drawing closer to the flames. He did not answer his father.

"In the next few weeks I want you to watch Potter. If he leaves the school for any reason, follow him." Lucius said with an intense look upon his face.

"Father, what have you got planned for Potter?" Draco asked with a small frown on his face.

"What does that matter? I am telling you to do this, and I expect you to do it." Lucius said angrily.

"Father, pardon my bluntness, but don't you think it would be wiser for you to find a safe place to hide from Lord Voldemort, than planning some kind of revenge against Harry?" Draco said knowing his father would not like it.

Lucius' face curled up into a large snarl. "Is it Harry now? Have my spies not reported everything to me? Since when is it not your first priority to gain revenge on Potter?" His voice rose in strength and Draco looked around making sure no one was coming down the stairs. When he was sure the angry outburst had not been heard he turned back to the angry face.

He stared for a moment weighing his words. "Father, Voldemort has been foiled time and time again by Potter. You always said to stick with the winning side. I'm tired of this war. I'm tired of the fighting. I'm tired of fearing death from failure. I'm just tired." Draco finally said sinking back into the chair in front of the fire.

Lucius looked as if he would shout again, but Draco did not care. But then the angry look on Lucius' face faded and turned into an amused sneer. "Draco. Failure is death. But not to fail can gain you more than your heart's desires. And remember one thing my son. You are not the only Slytherin at Hogwarts, and some are actually still loyal to me."

Lucius began to fade but Draco had just thought of something that had disturbed him. "Wait, Father." He called out and the face remained with a quizzical look. "If you still have loyal followers here then tell me who tried to kill Valissa?"

The face smiled a true smile for the first time since appearing. "Unfortunate circumstances, weren't those?" It said with a knowing look.

"Did you have something to do with it?" Draco asked sitting forward as the anger built inside him.

"No. I really hadn't thought of her since I had that journal sent to you. By the way, I heard you used it well." Lucius said in a casual voice.

"Who tried to kill her?" Draco asked ignoring his father's comment.

"Son, she is not your family, and the sooner you accept that fact the happier you will be." Lucius said in a cold voice of steel, and then the face faded out of existence leaving Draco with just as many questions as before he had spoken to the man.

He sat for many long hours thinking about his father's words. He was not sure what course of action he should take. If he warned Dumbledore or Snape would they believe him? Would they believe that he would betray his father?

Then again could he betray his father? That was a difficult question. If the Aurors were to find his father he might be killed. He was living with the fact that his mother had died because of his inability to kill. Could he live with his father's blood on his hands also?

But what of Val? His father had not made any comments that would make him think she was in danger. But what would her reaction be if something happened to her precious Harry? Would she blame him? Would she hate him even more than she already did?

He finally decided that there were too many questions, and not enough answers. And without any sleep he could not make any decisions, so he trudged back up to his dorm room and fell into his bed. At that moment he fervently wished he had not given Helena's journal to Val. He could use a reassuring voice in the night, even if it was just written words.