Okay, I apologize for the long wait, but I've been working on rewriting a bunch of stuff. If you haven't checked out the last four chapters lately, they've been altered a bit to be more in line with my current story. Chapters One and Three underwent the most changes. I apologize for not doing it earlier.
Thanks for waiting and reading, guys. I'll try to be better about updating.
Monday morning arrived far too quickly and it was with heavy hearts that Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny dragged themselves to Potions. Harry grumbled about the unfairness of having Snape's class first thing in the morning on the first day of the week, but the others were too preoccupied to notice. It wasn't anything they hadn't heard before.
Despite the fact that Harry was relieved he would still have a chance at becoming an auror, he hated taking Snape's class, especially after the fiasco that was the first class of the year. It should not surprise him that Snape did nothing to find out why his cauldron exploded, but he still felt a surge of anger toward the greasy-haired Slytherin.
Snape glared at them when they entered (it was a habit no doubt) and waited impatiently for everyone to be seated. The bell rang and the students turned themselves to the assigned task. The first month of school had been every educational for the new sixth years. All teachers in NEWT level classes expected a great deal, including the ability to begin the assignment without being told. Ron was disappointed to learn that Harry was becoming just as studious as Hermione, which meant he had no one to whisper to during class.
Neville Longbottom was now paired with Ernie McMillan, who seemed quite successful at keeping the confused Gryffindor from making too many mistakes. Snape assigned Ginny and Hermione to work together, to Harry and Ron's dismay, and the two Gryffindor friends were ordered to remain partners. Harry felt slightly bad for being less than happy about that fact. He supposed all the professors were used to it. Hermione had always been on her own or paired with someone like Neville. It made sense to finally put her with a partner who was capable of keeping up. Everyone was very surprised to see how easily Ginny adapted to her new classes, and how quickly she caught up on everything. Time Turner use helped a great deal. Hermione and Ginny spent two hours a day working on her fifth-year classes. According to his best friend, they were probably going to have them complete by the end of the week.
He was very proud of both of them.
Quidditch trials went well last week, and Ginny was able to join as a Chaser like she wanted to. Truth be told, she was quite a bit better than her brother, but he performed well enough to convince Warren to give him the Keeper position. Practice would help hone his skills, as would building up his confidence. Harry remembered what happened last year. Ron was so proud of his accomplishment, and no one could blame him.
"Mr. Potter. Perhaps you might wish to add that ingredient instead of staring at it. I doubt it will attack any time soon." Snickers greeted the sarcastic comment and Harry blushed as he tossed the handful of sweetgrass into the cauldron.
BOOM!
More laughter.
"That will be ten points from Gryffindor, for each of you. Mr.Weasley, since you should have been paying attention, and you will both receive a zero for the day. I suggest you clean up your mess."
Ron and Harry glared at the Slytherin professor, but did as they were told. The rest of class was surprisingly uneventful. It was Transfiguration that proved to be the lively one.
NEWT level Transfiguration was an experience unlike anything Ron or Harry could have expected. Ginny and Hermione were prepared, thanks to a thorough perusal of the materials before the start of the term, but their friends were not. Transfiguration was not Harry's best subject, and he was finding himself more and more grateful that he had two good friends who truly understood the topic. Like with Charms, Hermione was a natural in the subject, with Ginny not too far behind.
Minerva McGonagall strode into the room, her stern eye sweeping the class for any sign of troublemaking. Similar to Professor Snape, she taught her NEWT class at a very advanced level, so she was extremely intolerant of horseplay. Today's lesson was the first time they would be attempting to change themselves. According to the book, Shapechanging was very difficult and few wizards were actually capable of the transformation. Metamorphmagi were unique in that they possessed the skill naturally, and Animagi trained themselves to assume a certain form by utilizing the Animagus Charm.
Harry always wanted to be an Animagus like his father. At the start of the year, he'd mentioned his interest to the Headmaster, but had yet to see any evidence of something being done. If no one said anything soon, he would probably talk to Remus and find out how they did it. He idly wondered if Ron and Hermione would want to try too.
"Today's lesson will be far more complicated than anything you have done up to this point. If you have read the assigned material," her disapproving eye fell on Harry and Ron, who often did not, "you will know that this will be a very difficult learning experience. Some of you will be unable to complete it." She flicked her wand and the chalkboard filled with her elegant handwriting.
"The motions are basic and the spellwords simple. The difficulty is in the casting itself. Like the Patronus, the Shapechange spell requires concentration and strength of will. You will first practice the motions and then I will clear you individually to try the spell. Your grade will be dependant on your effort. You may begin."
Harry had his Transfiguration book out while McGonagall was speaking, and quickly read over the material to make sure he understood. Being studious was not as difficult as he'd expected. It actually made things a lot easier in many classes. Swishing and flicking his wand in the appropriate gesture, the green-eyed Gryffindor practiced the motions in preparation for trying the spell. The words were simple – Novo Facies. It was focusing on what changes to make that was the challenging part. The Novo Facies spell allowed a wizard to temporarily change his or her basic appearance in a manner similar to a metamorphomagus. Maybe he'd change his hair to pink or something in honor of Tonks.
"Bloody hell, Harry. I'm never going to get this," Ron whispered. "D'you think you could give a bloke a hand?"
That was a change. Ron asking Harry for help with schoolwork. He shrugged and demonstrated the motion. "You need to curve the top of the motion more and give a quick flick at the end." He watched while Ron struggled to master the assignment. A quick glance at Hermione and his sister confirmed that they were well on their way to mastering the spell. Harry gave his girlfriend a quick wink when she looked his way.
Ron noticed and scowled.
"Mr. Weasley. I see you appear to have some free time on your hands. Are you ready to demonstrate your mastery of the spell motion?"
"Er… of course, Professor," Ron stammered, still glaring at his friends.
"Then pray do impress us."
Sometimes the woman was far too much like Snape. Knowing he either had to admit he could not do it, or try and possibly fail, Ron chose the latter in hopes of discovering some latent mastery that would impress the others. Like Harry's skill with Defense Against the Dark Arts. Nodding to the professor, he glanced at Hermione and them swished and flicked. "Novo Facies!"
In Ron's defense, it was a good attempt. Harry thought he performed better than normal. Unfortunately, he still failed to successfully cast the spell. Concentration was probably the issue. Upon completion of the spell, Ron Weasley's wand belched purple sparks that swirled and flowed around his body. Moments later, they could see the changes.
Unruly black hair replaced his short red mop while vivid green eyes stared back at Harry in horror. The class began to laugh at Ron's unfortunate transformation.
"Well, well, well. It appears Weasley harbours a not-so-secret wish to be the Boy Who Lived."
Ron's face flushed in anger as he looked daggers at Malfoy.
The bloody prat just grinned cheekily at him and pointed to where the scar should have been. "Something missing, Weasley?"
"Bugger off, Malfoy! I'm going to…"
"Mr. Weasley! Mr. Malfoy. That's enough! Both of you will be serving detention with me this evening and five points from each your Houses. Mr. Weasley, you have obviously not mastered the charm enough to cast it successfully. You will have an Acceptable grade for the day, thanks to your effort, and you will turn in a three-foot essay on what you did wrong while casting the spell. It will be due Friday." Her eyes swept the class. "I suggest the rest of you practice as well."
By the end of class, Draco, Hermione, and two Ravenclaws were the only ones able to successfully cast the spell. Harry, Ginny, and several others were not too far behind, but the details still eluded them. The rest of the class either failed completely or changed into something completely different.
It was a long day.
That evening, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Julian were studying in the Gryffindor common room. Ron was grumbling about McGonagall's essay, forgetting the fact that one was assigned to all of them, and Ginny was starting to look like she was about to hex her brother. Harry thought about saying something, but Julian took it out of his hands.
The handsome Gryffindor stood up and stretched. "My goodness. I'm not sure about you, but I think I could use a short break." He held out a hand to Ginny. "Perhaps you would like to join me for a walk around the lake?"
Ginny's smile lit up the room and she eagerly stood up. Ron glared as Julian kissed his sister's hand and led her out of the room. He made to follow, but Hermione called him back.
"She's old enough to make her own choices, Ron. Leave them be."
"She's not old enough to be dating boys, Hermione. Much less going out on a moonlit stroll with one." He got up.
"Ron," Harry said warningly.
"She's my sister and I'll protect her if I want to!" He turned toward the portrait.
"You're not going out there to interfere." Harry stared at Ron, willing him to be reasonable for a change. "Sit down."
They were all surprised when Ron turned back and sat in his chair. He was gazing fearfully at Harry.
"Thank you," said Harry. It was nice to see even Ron could be reasoned with. He turned back to his homework.
"Harry…" Why was Hermione looking at him like that?
"What is it, 'Mione?"
"Hey, don't call her that!"
"Oh I don't mind, Ron. Harry, what was that?"
"What was what?" he responded absently. Was transparent spelled with an 'a' or an 'e'?
"Your eyes, Harry. They were glowing."
He looked up at his girlfriend, startled. "What?"
"When you told Ron to sit down. Your eyes were glowing. Was it a spell?"
"Uh…"
"Right creepy if you ask me, mate. It felt like someone was controlling me like a puppet. What the hell was that?"
Panic surged through Harry as he remembered his experience with the Imperious Curse. Weird things had been happening to him all summer. Did he just curse his best friend? He stood up. "I've got to go."
Hermione and Ron watched in disbelief as their friend dashed out the portrait hole.
"Bloody hell. That was barmy."
Hermione just frowned worriedly and wondered where Harry was headed.
Harry bolted through the portrait and ran through the corridors of Hogwarts, propelled by the driving need to talk to his Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. The idea that he may have unknowingly cast an Unforgivable on his best friend spurred him to race recklessly through the halls in search of her.
He never saw Professor Snape until it was too late.
"POTTER!" Snape's face purpled in fury as he picked himself up off the ground. "Detention! One week in my office at eight o'clock."
Harry waved vaguely, happy to see he was right outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classrooms. "Sure, Professor. Whatever."
Had Harry been watching the Potions master, he would have seen an expression few have ever witnessed and lived to tell the tale. He looked murderous at that moment, and instinctively reached for his wand.
"Harry?" Professor Spellsinger's voice surprised them both.
"Professor! Professor I have to talk to you!" Harry rushed over to the startled Gypsy as she exited her office.
"O…kay, Harry. What is it that you need?"
Harry eyed the glowering, dark man behind him. "Er…"
"Is something the matter, Severus?"
He came out of his rage at the sound of her voice. Bloody hell. How could she do that? "What?" he snapped. "I did not give you permission to use my first name."
She shrugged. "No matter. Is there something you need with me or Harry?"
Snape frowned at the familiar way she was addressing a student. "Merely to remind him to be in my office promptly at eight tomorrow evening."
"I am sure he will remember. Goodnight." She quickly shooed the young Gryffindor into her office, sensing that she needed to get him out of Professor Snape's sight. What was it with that man?
The man in question stood gaping at the door for a few moments, trying to fathom what just happened. Every time. Every bloody time he dealt with that… that… woman he walked away feeling annoyed and confused. She got to him on a way no one ever had. Avoiding her was difficult, since Albus Dumbledore was still playing matchmaker and had seated her right next to him in the Great Hall. Fortunately for him, Flitwick was very good at occupying her attention, but sometimes he felt the odd desire to speak with her. Especially after he found her reading the latest Ars Alchemica in the lounge one night.
Bugger it all.
Severus spun on his heel and stalked away from the now-empty corridor. He needed to clear his head and the best way to accomplish that would be to work on some bizarrely difficult potion. He had just the thing.
Meanwhile, Harry had told Ryselle everything that happened in the common room and was gazing anxiously at his professor. Was he about to be sent to Azkaban? Did he just take over Ron's mind? Was he no better than Voldemort?
"No, in a way, and no."
"What?"
"No, you are not about to be sent to Azkaban, no, you are not another Voldemort, and what you did to Ron was only slightly mind-controlling." She touched his hand. "Sit down, Harry. I will explain." He dropped into one of the chairs. "You have managed to tap in to a rather unique ability many wizards have never fathomed, much less manifested. According to the books, Merlin was capable of commanding others with his voice – somewhat like Imperious, but without the ill effects."
Harry looked at her confused.
"I am obviously not explaining this right. Okay. The Imperious Curse forces one's will on another, removing all capability for struggle or thought while under the effects of the spell. A person might act completely contrary to their normal behaviour as a result of the curse."
"But what I did was different?"
"You commanded Ron very much like a professor might. Your magic gave you the authority you would not ordinarily have. Ron responded as he would if someone like…"
"Professor Snape?"
"Yes. How he might react to Professor Snape giving him a command. It is called the Voice of Power, and it can be a very formidable asset when used correctly."
"Commanding the enemy?"
"More like commanding an army. In ages past, the Voice was used to aid morale in a disheartened army, inspiring them to fight better than ever before. It can be used to command people from harm's way, order obedience in someone already inclined to the behaviour, and may aide a commander in keeping the loyalty of his men. You are fortunate, Harry. This is a gift ordinarily seen only in the greatest of military generals throughout time."
"Bloody wonderful. Why me?"
The dark-haired Gypsy chuckled. "Why anyone? We all ask that question at some point, Harry, and unfortunately the only answer I can give you is the same my grandfather gave me. If not you, then who?"
Harry blinked in surprise.
"Tell me, who would you put in your place? That is the question we must ask ourselves. Who do you wish your life on? Ron? Albus Dumbledore? Hermione?"
"NO! I could never wish this on any of them!"
"That, then, is your answer. You have been chosen, Harry, for whatever reason to be who you are, when you are. There is something within you that makes you uniquely suited for a destiny most would flee from." She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "It is not easy, but from what I have seen, you carry your destiny well."
"But why am I developing a new power now? I thought I was over that years ago."
Ryselle smiled brilliantly and shook her head. "I am afraid not. That is a common misconception perpetuated by those who do not truly understand the nature of magic."
"Then what…"
She held up her hand. "Give me a moment and I will explain."
"Sorry."
"Magic is a very complicated thing, Harry. It does not develop in everyone the same way, but there are certain benchmarks of age that seem to be applicable to all wizards. At the age of eleven, or thereabouts, the initial ability to cast and ultimately control magic manifests itself. Many Wizarding children experience bouts of uncontrolled magic before that, but the control mechanism does not mature until shortly before puberty. It is at that point which one's magic experiences its first growth spurt."
Harry listened raptly as she explained something he had always wondered about.
"The next growth spurt typically happens at the age of thirteen, shortly after puberty. It is not as noticeable, however, since most Wizarding children are in school by then, or being educated in some manner. Sixteen, on the other hand, is quite different. It is a very important age both in the Wizarding and Muggle worlds thanks to the changes it brings. Many societies consider young men and women adults at this age and treat them accordingly. Other societies merely recognize the age as a significant step on the road to adulthood. Young women have their 'sweet sixteen' celebrations and young men are often raised into a higher standing in their families. It was not uncommon a century ago for arranged marriages to take place at that age."
"What does that have to do with me, Professor?"
"You, Harry, possess a truly remarkable gift of magic. A gift along the lines of Albus Dumbledore, my master, the Archwizard, and even Merlin himself. These benchmark increases in power are far more significant in you as a result…"
"But why does it matter?"
Ryselle eyed him sternly. "If I may finish, your questions may be answered."
"Sorry."
"The reason wizards are not given the totality of their magic initially has to do with the human mind's capacity of handling such incredible amounts of power. Power corrupts, Harry, unless one is taught to use it in a moral and just manner. It is easier to teach someone that if they are not carrying around this massive ability to do anything they want. Restriction is necessary."
"But what about Voldemort? He had the same training as me."
"Not completely, Harry. Voldemort went off to study and gain power all on his own after graduation. I suspect he was not prepared for such an increase in power, and that is why he was driven a bit…"
"Barmy?"
"Yes. Ambition is not something controlled by age or power. The lust for power is not something one can tame if the desire is not there. Voldemort never had the desire to restrain his ambition. Thus he searched for every means possible to gain enough power to do whatever it was that he wanted."
"Destroy the Muggle-born."
"And the Muggles. Do not forget how much he hates them as well. Muggle-born are merely guilty by association. Even he realizes they are wizards in their own right."
"So you're saying I've had an increase in my magical abilities?"
"Yes."
Harry began to feel panicked. "What do I do, Professor? I mean, I didn't want to force Ron to do what I wanted, he just…"
"Relax, Harry. I can teach you to harness your abilities, but first you must learn to control your mind."
"What do you mean?"
"Occlumency. You must learn that before I can teach you anything else."
"I thought Headmaster…"
"Harry, Albus Dumbledore has many things on his mind as of late and I do not believe this would be a good time for him to divide his attention. Occlumency requires a great deal of concentration and effort. I assure you I am quite capable of instructing you on this." She looked him in the eyes. "Unless you do not feel you can trust me enough."
"Er… I didn't mean it that way, Professor. I just…"
"He will teach you if you wish it, Harry. I suggest you think it over before making a decision."
Harry nodded. While he trusted Ryselle, especially after spending part of the summer with her, he wasn't completely sure he had enough confidence in her abilities. Not that she did not seem competent. She simply wasn't Albus Dumbledore.
"I'll think about it, Professor. What do I do in the meantime?"
"Meditate, Harry. Try not to get too angry or upset. It will do far more harm than good."
It's a good thing Malfoy's leaving us alone, he thought. "I will try, Professor."
"Good." He turned to leave. "Harry."
"Yes, Professor Spellsinger?"
"You are welcome here at any time."
"Thank you."
"But I would suggest keeping an eye out for Professor Snape. I do not think he was pleased with you this evening."
Harry snorted. "It's not just this evening, Professor. Professor Snape makes special effort to be displeased with my very existence. I'm surprised he only gave me a week of detention." Leaving his Defense Against the Dark Arts professor gazing after him, Harry headed back to Gryffindor. There were no doubt several hard questions awaiting him and he figured now would be a good time to explain while things were fresh in his mind. Boy, did he owe Ron an apology.
Ron and Hermione were still studying in the common room when he returned to Gryffindor. A slight gesture toward the fire indicated his desire to speak with them. No one else was paying attention to them. It was not uncommon for the Trio to take over the couches by the fires and talk quietly about things few in Gryffindor really wanted to think about. Neville, Seamus, and Dean moved to take their places at the table after the three students moved.
"What is it, Harry?" Hermione took a seat next to Harry on the couch, unconsciously taking his hand. Ron frowned at the familiar gesture.
"Er… it's about this evening." He looked Ron in the eyes. "Uh… I owe you an apology, Ron."
"What for?"
"Uh… well… I kinda was responsible for forcing you to sit down."
"WHAT?"
Hermione gestured frantically at the angry redhead. "Shhhh! Do you want everyone to hear, Ron?"
"Fine. What happened, Harry?"
"Well, I talked with Professor Spellsinger…" Harry proceeded to give his two best friends the same lecture he'd received from the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Both listened raptly until he was finished and then Ron unexpectedly sprang to his feet.
"That's not fair!"
Harry looked at him in confusion. "What?"
"You've got everything. Fame, money, now you get to inherit the bloody powers of Merlin? Bugger it all, Harry! When am I going to get something like that?"
"Ronald! Sit down!" Hermione hissed.
"You've even got Hermione! The only thing I have is a bloody insane owl that can barely deliver letters."
"Ron, I haven't 'got' Hermione. She belongs to herself. And as for what do you have that I don't – maybe you should take a look at your sister sometime. And your brothers. And your bloody parents! You have a life I would willingly give up all the fame, money, and power for! It's too bad you don't appreciate it!"
"And 'Mione? Would you give her up too?"
"Never!" Harry glared fiercely at his best friend.
"Ronald, how could you ask that?" Hermione exclaimed indignantly.
"What? It's a fair question."
"No, it's not! Harry wants a family, Ron, and friends. I don't think he'd give you up either. Would you, Harry?"
Harry shook his head. "You're both my best friends."
"Some of us more than others," said Ron, glaring at Hermione.
"That's not fair!"
"Don't take this conversation where you don't want it to go, Ron," warned Harry.
"Oh yeah? What if I want it to go there? What if I want to know who you would choose. Me or her. What would it be?"
SMACK! Ron winced as his sister smacked him on the back of his head. "Don't you dare ask that ever again, Ronald Weasley. You know that's not a fair question. And it's certainly not a question you should be asking your best friend!"
Ron glared at his sister, and then raked Harry and Hermione with his eyes. "Yeah, well, I don't need an answer to that anyway. I already know." With a final glare at Julian, he stalked off.
"What the bloody hell was that all about?"
"Ron's jealous, Ginny. He doesn't like the fact that Hermione and I are obviously getting along as more than friends."
Ginny shrugged. "He'll get over it. Come on, Julian. Let's leave the love birds to themselves."
Harry and Hermione smiled in amusement as Ginny dragged the proper Gryffindor over to one of the other couches and pushed him into it. Who knew Ginny was so assertive?
Hermione chuckled. "I hope Ron doesn't come back while her tongue is down Julian's throat like that."
"No kidding. When did they get so serious?"
"It's been building. He's quite the gentleman and she's really taken with that. Merlin knows she's been trying to get him to snog her for several weeks now."
"It looks like he lost some of his shyness."
"Ginny can do that to a guy." Hermione sighed. "I wish I could do that."
Harry grinned at her. "Oh really, Miss Granger? Who's to say you can't?"
Hermione's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Well, I can… But would I…?"
In a heartbeat Harry's arms were wrapped around her and his lips glued to hers. Ordinarily she would be incredibly shy about doing something like this in a room full of their housemates, but everyone had been so supportive of their relationship that she almost felt like they were alone. She decided to ignore their location and threw herself into the kiss, her heart full of Harry.
She never saw his eyes glow or the Disillusionment Charm that covered them.
The next day, things were not going well for Draco Malfoy. It had been slightly under a month since the start of the term and he found himself sitting in the Slytherin great room contemplating some of the rumours he'd been hearing. The fact that Granger and Potter finally got together meant very little to him, but apparently it was what passed for Big News these days in Slytherin house. Bloody hell. How the mighty have fallen.
The lethargy that permeated his house these days could be directly attributed to the fiasco at the Ministry of Magic last year. Thanks to his father and those bloody idiots he called friends, Voldemort and his Death Eaters were now a terrible reality to the rest of the Wizarding world and Slytherin house was under close scrutiny by all sides. He'd hate to think what Snape was going through. It was fortunate the dark wizard had absented himself from the activities of that night. Otherwise there'd be no support for pure-bloods at this school.
It was fortunate the headmaster refused to allow his father's actions to affect his standing this year. Draco was a Prefect again and with it came a great deal of influence that he did not really need to work for. Truth be told, he was tired of it. Every bloody year since he got to this school he'd been under pressure to find a way to humiliate Potter and beat Granger at academics. Every bloody year he failed and was forced to listen to his father lecture him on his duties as a Malfoy and the expectations of being a pure-blood.
Bugger.
The best thing about last year's fiasco was that it landed his father in Azkaban. He honestly figured his father would get out of it soon, but until then he was free of the evil bastard's influence. Over the summer, Draco had found himself increasingly indifferent to what was happening in the Wizarding world. Voldemort was obsessed with destroying Harry Potter, and because of his arrogance, Draco's father and several other Death Eaters were in Azkaban. He really could care less. Draco was never really loyal to his father. Loyalty was not something rewarded in his family. The past summer wound up being an exercise in consolidating power. His mother, Narcissa Malfoy, had moved immediately to gain control of all Malfoy assets upon his father's imprisonment. Her actions began a fight with her son that lasted all summer. At the end of it, Draco still had total control over his assets and those of his father. Narcissa was forced to step away and make due with her own considerable Black assets. She was in a fight to keep those, however, because a little known clause in the Black family will stated that the estate could not be inherited by someone involved with the death of a family member. Since Narcissa had been instrumental in setting up the events leading to Sirius' death, it was unlikely she would get anything. Draco found it very entertaining.
Meanwhile, the silver-eyed Slytherin had spent a great deal of time thinking about his future and what he wanted out of life. What he found surprised him. Last year he had been willing to do anything to stay on the good side of his father and the Dark Lord. His greatest ambition was to serve the cause of pure-blood domination at the side of his father and his Lord. To that end he did everything in his power to support that crazy bint Umbridge. The influence he garnered as one of her lackey's was very satisfying, and being the head of the Inquisitorial Squad was well worth the fawning he forced Crabbe and Goyle to do.
Unfortunately it did not last.
He fully expected Potter to find a way to wriggle out of Umbridge's clutches, but the manner in which he went about it surprised him. He never knew the Mudblood could be so convincingly dishonest. He was impressed. Later he found out what happened and it was all he could do not to laugh. Only someone as stupid as Delores Umbridge would go on a tirade to the Centaurs in their own forest. It was mere hours after that which found his father and several other Death Eaters being carted away to Azkaban.
He'd been angry at first. It was a knee-jerk reaction prompted by years of condition by his father. Then he thought about it. With the senior Malfoy out of the way, Draco was the head of one of the most powerful families in the Wizarding world. Excellent. The next day he moved to consolidate that power, thinking he could figure out a way to help in the fight against those dirty blood traitors and Mudbloods.
He never expected to find out it was all a lie.
Several of the Death Eaters that had been in the Ministry last year had brought up some questions about Voldemort. The most significant being Harry Potter's assertion that Tom Riddle was a half-blood. Draco knew no one was supposed to know about what Potter said, but Bellatrix Lestrange couldn't help but brag about her actions that night. A week after the term ended, Draco was on an information-gathering mission at his house when he overheard his mother and her sister talking. Interested, he settled down in preparation for some surprising revelations. What he heard shocked him.
According to his mother, Tom Riddle had been the child of a witch descendant of Salazar Slytherin and a Muggle. He grew up with an incredible hatred of his heritage, and went so far as to create an alternate identity to remove himself from the taint of his father's non-magical nature. Upon graduation, he killed the rest of his family and disappeared to learn magic from the most evil and depraved wizards in existence. When he returned, he was truly Lord Voldemort – the most powerful dark wizard living. In his quest for power, he gathered together a group of followers known as Death Eaters. Some were truly loyal to him, but most served him through fear and the desire for power. Voldemort spoke of the days when Mudbloods would cease to exist and the Wizarding world would be returned to the control of those deserving it. His followers assumed he meant them.
Bellatrix Lestrange was floored. Harry Potter had told her Voldemort was a half-breed, but she refused to believe him. She had grown up with the Black family's opinion of Mudbloods and had joined Voldemort to eliminate them. She couldn't comprehend the fact that the most powerful wizard alive was the child of a witch and a Muggle. Even Harry Potter was closer to being a pure-blood. His mother was a Mudblood, and his father was a wizard. Narcissa made her sister swear to keep the information secret. Voldemort would kill them if he thought they might undermine his cause. They had chosen their course, and were stuck with it.
Draco, on the other hand, was not. Over the years he had studied the rise and fall of the world's greatest dictators. He had always wanted power, and chose to learn from the mistakes of others. One of the reasons he had been so loyal to Voldemort and his cause was because of the promise of power. Draco's father sat at Voldemort's right hand, and promised Draco he would have a similar position should he prove himself. For five years he did everything in his power to support the cause. It was only after his fourth year at Hogwarts that he had experienced a moment of doubt. After Cedric Diggory's death, he found out that Voldemort and his father lied about the circumstances. It was one thing to kill someone because they opposed the cause. But Cedric had been killed for the simple reason he was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Voldemort hadn't even seen the boy as worthy of his time. Draco was surprised. The Diggorys were one of the oldest pureblood families around. He would have at least expected Voldemort to offer Cedric the opportunity to join him. But the Dark Lord had acknowledged his presence only long enough to order his death.
That, combined with a number of disturbing things he had heard during the year resulted in Draco seriously reconsidering his allegiance. He came to the realization that the power Voldemort offered was an illusion. Like many great overlords in history, he had no intentions of sharing with his faithful followers. After his cause was won, his followers would be cast aside to be ruled along with everyone else. That might be okay with Draco's father, but he never wanted to be someone's lackey. Draco finally came to the decision that he needed to find a way to disassociate himself.
He refused to shout his defiance from the rooftops as someone like Potter would probably do. He valued his life and had no desire for his father to come back and kill him for being a traitor. Instead he realized he needed to start small. Get his parents thinking he was just a normal teenager going through the process of growing up. Lucius had told him stories of his days at Hogwarts and the wild things he'd done along with his young protégé, Severus Snape. Surely neither of them would find it odd that he decided to shake things up a bit.
The first thing he did was change his wardrobe. He was tired of dressing like a miniature version of Lucius Malfoy. With his newfound wealth, he went on a shopping spree he knew would send his father into convulsions if he saw the bill. He purchased dragonskin jackets, boots, and pants for the base of his new look. He was well aware that he was lithe and athletic as a result of playing Quiddich all summer, and had finally grown in to a nice set of broad shoulders. His shirt selection consisted of dark open-collared shirts, designed to show off his broad chest and narrow waist, a few collarless button up shirts, and some basic casual shirts. He also purchased several skin-tight shirts after he tried one on and saw how it brought out his muscles. He was pleased with the results, as were several women he saw later that day.
The final touches to his wardrobe were a silver and jade choker with an oriental dragon pendant, and a small jade earring in his left ear. He decided to stop slicking back his hair and wore it long, sometimes tied back with a leather thong. The Draco Malfoy that returned home to his mansion little resembled the one that had left. His mother was shocked.
"Draco?"
"Yeah?"
"Draco, what on earth are you wearing?"
"They typically call them clothes, mother," he drawled coldly.
"Don't you be pert with me, young man. I mean why are you wearing those clothes?"
"Because I like them."
"Draco Malfoy, I command you to go to your room and change into something more appropriate to your station. You're a disgrace! You look like a hoodlum."
Draco's eyes lazily shifted to his mother. "No."
Her eyes flew open in shock. "What did you say!"
He smirked. "I said no. Really, mother, you might want to get your hearing checked. They say it's one of the first things to go."
In a few quick steps she was over to her son. "How dare you talk back with me! That was not a request, Draco; that was an order."
He shrugged.
In the blink of an eye her hand flew up to slap his face. It never got there, however, since he caught it inches from his cheek. His eyes went flat. "Really, mother, one would think that you would understand that slapping me is an exercise in futility. Your hand is nowhere near as challenging to catch as the Snitch." His grip tightened. "I suggest you leave me alone. My choice of wardrobe is exactly that: my choice. If you don't like it…" He shrugged. "I honestly don't care." Dropping his mother's hand, Draco sauntered past her to his rooms smirking the whole way there.
The next several weeks were a trial for Draco and his mother. She had serious problems with the new Draco Malfoy, and did everything in her power to convince him to change back. He stubbornly ignored her. She even went so far as to mention it to Draco's father in Azkaban. To her surprise, he simply laughed. He did not care what his son wore, as long as he continued to serve Voldemort faithfully. Lucius even suggested that a little rebellion might be good for the boy.
Draco was pleased with the results of his little rebellion. He had always done what his father wanted him to do. Now his father was in prison, and his mother was fighting for her inheritance. This summer had been unlike any he'd ever experienced. Thanks to his parents' absences, he was given an unprecedented amount of freedom. He discovered he liked it. Freedom was the greatest power he could imagine. Things suddenly changed. He had no desire to turn his life over to some old snake-faced half-breed, but he also knew his life was forfeit if Voldemort found out. But they would do nothing until he graduated. He knew his father already had his initiation into the Death Eaters planned for the night of his graduation. Thanks to Severus Snape, Lucius had been convinced to allow Draco to complete school before joining the ranks of Voldemort's followers.
That would never happen if he had anything to say about it.
Draco returned to school a changed man. On the surface, he still appeared fairly normal; the Hogwarts school uniforms left very little in the way of personal expression, but his entire attitude was different. Before this year he had always taken over one of the compartments for himself and a few faithful followers. This year, he kept to himself. He did not even bother to taunt Potter. His enthusiasm for that faded with his desire to please his father. Crabbe and Goyle had left him alone, which relieved him, and the rest of Slytherin was apparently flocking around a new boy from Durmstrang. The old Draco would have immediately seized control of the situation and ground the new boy into dust. The new one simply did not care. He still possessed enough arrogance to know that no one could take his place.
Draco was a prefect again this year and reveled in the power it afforded him. No one in Slytherin could do anything to hurt him, and being Snape's favorite, they knew he could pretty much get away with anything. He wondered who Pansy's new bed-toy was. She'd broken up with him shortly before school started, but he was honestly completely unconcerned. Now he had a pretty good idea why. During the opening feast he had examined all the new students to identify which ones might be a threat. Only one of them came to mind. Pansy would never ally herself with someone that couldn't give her the life of leisure she expected, or the social influence she craved. He noticed her and Eric Hadenthor fawning all over one of the new Slytherins and speculated that he was Pansy's new interest.
He knew the young man had transferred to Hogwarts from Durmstrang on his father's orders. Apparently the old man wanted his son to attend the same school that had produced Voldemort and some of the greatest Death Eaters of all time. His name was Thanos Acheron – probably the single most melodramatic name Draco had ever heard. He was six feet tall and possessed the strong, athletic visage of a Greek gladiator. He had black hair, dark eyes, and an infectious smile calculated to bring the women to their knees in adoration. He was incredibly good-looking, even Draco had to admit that, and had caught the eyes of a number of ladies from all the houses, including Pansy. He moved like a giant cat, with the arrogance of someone who knew he was the king of all he surveyed. Draco immediately realized he would eventually have to put a stop to that.
The first week back was an amusing exercise in watching the new boy do his best to consolidate his power amongst Slytherin House. The boy spent inordinate amounts of time fawning all over Snape, who gazed at him with greater amounts of loathing each day. Thanos and Pansy were inseparable which apparently seemed to indicate to him that he was something special. Obviously the bloody fool knew nothing of his new girlfriend.
Draco almost laughed out loud at the shameless bragging and posturing the boy did any time he found himself in the common area. Just for his amusement, he'd snuck in one night under his Invisibility Cloak to see what the boy acted like when Draco wasn't watching. There was little change, but the dark-haired Slytherin did seem to deflate a bit. Hmm. Too bad he was such a bloody moron.
Ten days after the start of the term, Draco decided to make the formal acquaintance of the new boy. The statement of his value had been made to the rest of the House and prolonging his silence further would only be construed as immature and rude.
Draco strolled into the room and glanced disinterestedly around. The new boy was there with Pansy and several other younger girls drooling all over him. It was pathetic. He carefully schooled his expression into neutrality and approached the group.
As expected, the boy rose to greet him, dislodging several of his fawning groupies. Despite the fact that Pansy and him were no longer together, it still irritated Draco that she was all over the bloody prat. He frowned. While he may not like Pansy, she was still his. Despite what she might want to think.
"Draco Malfoy?" Even his voice was calculated to entrance.
"Yes?" Draco gazed uninterestedly at the new boy.
Thanos came over to Draco and held out his hand. "It's an honor to meet you." Malfoy reluctantly took it. "I have always wanted to meet the infamous Draco Malfoy. Son of Lucius, one of the greatest Death Eaters that has ever lived!"
Draco narrowly avoided rolling his eyes. Extracting his hand, he smirked at the new Slytherin. Now it was time to put the new boy in his place.
"I'm glad I could help you achieve one of your life goals, Thanos. Now if you will excuse me, I have a Prefect meeting to attend." Without a glance back, he sauntered past Thanos, smirking.
Thanos Acheron glared at Draco as he walked away. That little bastard. How dare he ignore him like that? Fine. If that's the way he wants it, he thought menacingly, then that's the way we'll play it. As a concession to his father's respect for the elder Malfoy, Thanos had been willing to offer Draco a place in the new order of things. A place almost as high as his. But the bloody prat's attitude guaranteed to be an issue and he decided then and there that something needed to be done. Smirking at Pansy, Thanos began to formulate a plan. He had stolen the fair-haired Slytherin's girl with very little problem. The rest should be easy.
A few short days later, he found himself regretting those thoughts.
Thanos was determined to win over the loyalty of his fellow Slytherins. He underestimated the amount of influence the Malfoy boy had over them, and had yet to make any significant headway. Even after getting the Parkinson girl. That bothered him. When he was at Durmstrang, he was the top dog. He never had to climb his way up the food chain, and discovered he did not like it very much. It was already obvious that most of the school thought Slytherin House was simply a haven for Death Eaters in training. Laboring against that reputation, combined with the incredible influence Draco Malfoy commanded made his campaign to control Slytherin and win over the other Houses almost impossible. He decided that he needed help. More importantly, he needed some way to discredit Malfoy.
He originally thought Pansy Parkinson would be his best resource for finding out about Draco Malfoy. So he agreed to start dating her shortly before the term began. Unfortunately he was mistaken. Pansy was very elemental in her desires and very simple in her knowledge. She could tell him in great detail everything Draco was capable of doing in bed, but when asked what motivated him, she would shrug and say, "Who cares?" He couldn't believe the girl had dated Malfoy for several years and still knew nothing about him. Still, he decided to keep dating her in hopes that it would at least bother the Slytherin prefect. He was limited on the things he could do to the boy because of his position, so Thanos tried small things at first.
For his part, Draco was amused. Thanos had nothing on his father for intrigue. Draco had learned from the best. He was well aware of what Thanos was doing, and really did not care very much. However, humiliating Thanos Acheron was something Draco could really get in to, so he decided to set up a little lesson for the arrogant new Slytherin.
Voldemort was very careful to tell his Death Eaters that his failure to destroy Harry Potter was all part of his overall plan. Most of them were not stupid enough to believe him, but none would gainsay him. Draco figured Thanos for the stupid type. He felt it was time the boy was introduced to the joy that was involved with coming to the attention of Harry Potter. As much as Draco hated to admit it, he knew Harry was very skilled when it came to magic. Draco was not too far behind, but he had seen enough of Thanos' skills to know the boy was nowhere near Harry's level in proficiency. Draco made sure Thanos was told that the only way to gain the adoration of all Slytherin, including Professor Snape, was to challenge and defeat Harry Potter in a wizards' duel. A small bit of stung pride was all it would take for the arrogant git to set himself up for an ass-kicking. Draco figured that if Potter lost to Thanos, then he deserved the humiliation.
It wasn't long before Draco was ready to implement his plan. During the past month, Professor Spellsinger had spent a great deal of time getting them caught up on everything they had missed last year. High Inquisitor Umbridge had done serious damage to the teachers' lesson plans, so everyone was pushing hard to get current. Draco did not mind. He preferred to stay busy learning than participating in the joke his House called intrigue. Draco had just spent the previous week dropping comments around other students about Thanos' ability to stand up to Harry. He made sure none of the innuendo could be traced back to him, then sat back to watch the sparks fly. It was Eric Hadenthor that pushed Thanos over the edge. Exactly as Draco had expected him to.
Thanos bristled belligerently at the young man in front of him. "What do you mean, prove myself?"
"Thanos, the only way you are going to be able to get the loyalty of our House is to prove that you are better than Malfoy."
Thanos turned up his nose. "I am better than Malfoy."
"Then you need to show people."
"How?"
Eric pointed down the hallway to where Ron, Harry, and Hermione were conversing with three other Gryffindors. "Malfoy has never been able to defeat Potter in a duel…"
A slow smile spread across the Greek boy's face. "But if I beat him, then all of Slytherin will worship me!"
Draco smirked evilly. This really was too good to be true. Time for part two of his plan. Draco stepped out from around the corner, narrowly missing a collision with Thanos. "Hey! Watch where you're going!"
Draco looked at him with contempt. "You should instead stay out of my way, Thanos. Step aside for your superior!"
Thanos stepped forward, threateningly. "You are not my superior, Malfoy," he snarled.
Draco shrugged indifferently. "Think whatever you want. Reality does not change because of your insignificant desires." The silver-haired Slytherin walked past the two boys without a glance back.
"Oh yeah?" yelled Thanos from behind him. "Watch this!" Thanos stalked over to where the Gryffindors had gathered to talk about their lesson for today. Harry had obviously learned it well and was giving pointers to the other students. His sentence trailed off as the attention of his housemates was diverted by the approach of a very angry Slytherin. He looked up curiously.
"You! Potter! We have something to settle!"
Harry frowned. "Not that I'm aware of…" he searched for the name.
Thanos was infuriated more by the Gryffindor's ignorance. "Thanos. Thanos Acheron."
Harry nodded. "Ah, right. Sorry. So what can I do for you, Thanos?"
Thanos pulled out his wand. "You can start by preparing yourself!"
Six Gryffindors' wands appeared in their hands. It was all Draco could do not to laugh.
"What is the meaning of this?" demanded a musical voice.
Uh oh, smirked Draco, this can't be good for Thanos.
"None of your business!" he snarled, turning to face the owner of the voice.
Professor Spellsinger raised an eyebrow, ignoring the fact that the angry student towered over her by nearly a foot. "Really? And here I thought it was my job to make sure students obeyed the rules." Her glare pierced him. "25 points from Slytherin."
"But…"
"You wish to argue Mr. Acheron? I assure you, I am well aware of the situation as it occurred right outside my office. If you wish to tell me a story, you can do it in detention tonight."
"Uh, no, uh that's quite all right."
She nodded, turning to leave. "Good."
Eric Hadenthor stepped forward. "Ma'am?" he started hesitantly.
"Yes, Mr. Hadenthor?"
"Uh, well, uh, Thanos did challenge Harry to a duel, ma'am. Uh, shouldn't that be taken care of?"
"Yes, it should." Professor Snape marched up, glaring at the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
She nodded reluctantly. "Very well, if Harry accepts, then it will be done tonight in the dueling hall." She eyed the Slytherin head of house. "Under the rules."
Snape looked irritated.
The Gypsy teacher looked over to Harry. "Do you accept Mr. Acheron's challenge, Harry?"
He gazed thoughtfully at Thanos for a moment, and then shrugged. "Sure. It will be good practice."
Draco could barely keep the glee off his face. This evening promised to be very interesting.
The day passed quickly, anticipation of this evening's duel kept everyone excited and on edge. All of Gryffindor was looking forward to seeing Harry defeat Thanos Acheron. In just a few short weeks, the boy had done a great deal to alienate a number of the students with his superiour attitude.
Ron, Harry, and Hermione arrived at the Dueling Hall early, but it was already packed. Harry could have sworn that all of Gryffindor and Slytherin had turned out for tonight's duel, not to mention large portions of the other houses. He had no idea what had prompted the new boy's hostility, but Hermione theorized it was his way of establishing himself in his new House. She was probably right. He was curious, however, as to why the boy had not challenged Draco Malfoy. He was the one that led Slytherin. One would think he would rather fight with Malfoy than him.
Must be some Death Eater thing, he mused.
Looking around the room, he spotted Malfoy in one of the room's corners, chatting with Professor Snape. Harry had been surprised this year by the change in him. Every year since he started going to Hogwarts, Malfoy had done everything in his power to make his life hell. Now the silvery-haired Slytherin seemed completely indifferent. The only time they competed now was in class and on the Quiddich field. There were other changes as well. Several of the girls in Gryffindor had noticed Malfoy's change in wardrobe. He still wore his Hogwarts robes, but underneath was a completely different story.
Draco Malfoy's new clothing appeared to be calculated to make any girl looking at him swoon. Even Harry had to admit the Slytherin Prefect looked good. Ron was incensed. His little sister Ginny had been overheard talking with some other girls about how dreamy he had gotten. Ron himself had bulked up a bit, but was still very tall and gangly. Harry had also developed in musculature, and while not as tall as Ron, still had a respectable height and an athletic form. He almost wished he could have the type of clothing Malfoy had. Harry had to admit it showed the young man off to good effect.
Thanos Acheron entered the room as a king before his subjects. Harry rolled his eyes. The boy really needed an attitude adjustment. He almost hoped Malfoy would take an interest and knock him down a peg. I guess it's up to me, he observed.
Professor Spellsinger stepped forward and ordered everyone out of the dueling area. Thanos and Harry stepped up, and she quickly ran down the rules. She emphasized to Thanos that an Unforgivable Curse was forbidden and would be met with harsh punishment.
The two boys stepped into the dueling arena, and assumed dueling positions. Professors Spellsinger and Snape sent up the signal to start, and Thanos immediately pointed his wand at Harry. "Expelliarmus!"
"Incipicoeos!" Harry still held his wand.
"Stupefy!"
Thanos dodged to the side, and flung another curse. "Expulsum!"
"Speculum!"
Thanos was flung back as his curse rebounded.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Harry stood over the Slytherin as his body stiffened and became immobile. He lowered his wand, and gave a slight bow to the two teachers. Snape looked extremely disappointed. Draco, however, was impressed. Obviously Harry had learned a thing or two since last year.
"Well, I believe that settles that, does it not, Professor?" inquired Ryselle.
Snape nodded reluctantly.
"Good. Ten points to Gryffindor for a brilliant showing in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Well done, Harry."
The Gryffindor beamed.
Ryselle pointed her wand at Thanos. "Ennervate."
He got up, eyes burning with hatred for his opponent. Draco smirked. Now Thanos would put all his energies toward humiliating Harry Potter. No matter how it turned out, it would provide lots of amusement for the Slytherin prefect.
Ryselle offered her hand to the dark-haired Slytherin. "If you would like, Thanos. I could arrange for you to have more tutoring if your performance was not to your satisfaction."
Ignoring her hand, he got up. "No, thank you," he muttered. Thanos stalked off to the dungeons, angry at being defeated. He swore Harry Potter would pay.