Call of the Circle

by RoBoC

During the summer after his fifth year, Draco Malfoy has an encounter that will forever alter his world.

3. An Offer Made

It was raining. There are many different types of rain. There is the gentle spray of drizzle, the casual, almost boring, plink-plop of what you could call normal rain, and there was the all out cascade of a true downpour. This was a downpour and then some. Draco sat, his head resting on his hand, listening to the raging sound as thousands of rain drops shattered against the window beside him. He could hear them but he could not see them, the windows of this grotty little tavern were far too dirty for that. Grease and filth were smeared in a thick layer over the windows. It almost appeared as though the glass was intentionally opaque. The rain wasn't doing anything to clean them either, not even the heaviest of downpours could hope to even make a dent in that much filth. Draco sighed and checked his watch. It was half past three, and he had been sitting in this disgusting place for over two hours and for what? Apparently, it seemed, for nothing.

Draco sighed again. He had arrived in Paris and come straight here. The cab driver had given him a funny look when he had asked to be taken to this place, and now he knew why. The Chateau de Nuit was located slap in the middle of the less hospitable side of Paris' wizard quarter, a place that made Knocturn Alley look like a school playground. This pub was exactly the kind of establishment you would expect to find in such a place. It was a small, filthy building, in a dark, twisted little cobbled street, squashed between a rather nasty looking apothecary and a shop that seemed to sell nothing but shrunken heads. He had not liked the look of the place when he saw it, and the speed at which the cab had left after he had paid the driver made him feel even worse. Still, he was not one to back away when he had made up his mind, so, gritting his teeth, he had marched into the inn and asked the barman where he might find Robert Etean.

"What? Lord Etean you mean? In here? Not likely young sir."

That was the response he had gotten, the response that a large part of Draco had been expecting.

"What makes you think that a rich and well to do wizard like him would be seen round here?" the barman had said through a chuckle.

Draco was fluent in French, having spent a good few of his summers travelling round France with his parents, but this man's accent was so heavy that Draco could barely keep up with him. Not that he really wanted to. It is a strange and almost universal fact the world over, that the keepers of inns and taverns invariably resemble their establishments in almost every detail. This particular barkeep was short and fat, his face was caked in grime from his filthy collar right up to the few strands of greasy hair that still clung to his scalp. His shirt was covered with countless stains, the cause of which Draco did not want to guess. When he had leaned over the bar to answer Draco's question, the stench of his breath had nearly knocked him out. Not keen to be dragged into any sort of conversation that would require him to remain at the bar, near to this gargoyle, Draco had hastily ordered a butterbeer and retreated to one of the more secluded booths near the windows.

And there he sat, sipping his beer and listening to the rain pound the windows, waiting to see if Robert Etean would show up. He was still not sure exactly why he had come. Etean had made him an interesting offer but he hadn't exactly been forthcoming with any real details of what he was talking about. When it came to it, Draco didn't know this guy at all and his behaviour thus far certainly hadn't been designed to inspire much trust on Draco's part. Unconsciously, Draco rubbed the fading bruise on his chest. It had been an impressive demonstration though, a painful one, but impressive nonetheless. So where was Etean?

If his offer was genuine, Draco supposed he would show up eventually. Etean certainly didn't seem the type to miss engagements. Indeed, he seemed to be exactly what Draco would have expected a person in his position to be, arrogant, polished and very, very rich. That, at least, was what Draco had been able to learn about him in the weeks since their last encounter – he hadn't learned much he had to admit, just what was written about Etean in the newspapers and gossip magazines he had foung. By far the most interesting piece of information that he had discovered was that Robert was now Lord Etean, having succeeded his father earlier that year. The late Robert Senior had died in what was best described as 'unusual circumstances'. His death had not been expected, there was no obvious illness involved. Reading between the lines, Draco had concluded that the succession of the new 15th Lord Etean had not been a simple affair. He could only guess as to the exact details, but it was certainly a very interesting puzzle – one more mystery to be solved.

Mysteries, Draco sighed, he was surrounded by mysteries. He had read that damned book, starting with the passage Etean had suggested, and then, finding no clue as to what the hell this was all about, the whole thing – all ten volumes of it, detailing the rise and fall of the Great Magical Empire. He had fallen asleep more than once. Like most historical literature it was extremely boring, full of names and dates that didn't really mean anything. To make it worse, it had been completely useless, he was still none the wiser as to this power Etean had offered him.

He sighed and tried to calm himself down. His mind was racing in circles and there was no point in getting angry – it could do no good. Idly he stared at the darkened surface of the window beside him, the noise of the rain outside continued unabated. He started to strum his fingers on the table in boredom. When, after a while, he reached out for his beer to take a sip, he saw that the mug was nearly empty. He was about to call the barman for another when someone plonked a full mug down on the table in front of him. Draco nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise. He looked up as the newcomer casually sat down opposite him and lowered his hood. He was not surprised by who it was.

"Do you know how long I've been sitting here in this…this filthy place waiting for you?" he struggled to keep his voice from sounding angry.

Etean didn't look the least bit apologetic for keeping him waiting, "Well hello to you too," he replied, "You know, you really need to work on your manners, Malfoy."

Draco scoffed, "You're a fine one to talk about manners, keeping me waiting all this time. I've been here for hours!" now Draco voice sounded angry. He could feel his face flush red as his temper boiled over.

Etean looked puzzled. He picked up his own mug of butterbeer and sniffed it, "Hmmm, smells normal to me," he tasted it. "Tastes normal too. Maybe I should have a word with Eric, maybe he has been tinkering with the beer again. He must have made this stuff stronger than it tastes for you to be this drunk on three of them."

"I am not dr…" Draco started, then paused, "Hang on, how do you know how many I've had?"

Etean raised an eyebrow, "You'd be surprised how much I know about you. And if you're not drunk, then how else do you explain the fact that you are no longer the snivelling wimp I met before?"

"I…" again Draco was derailed, "What do you mean wimp?"

Etean chuckled, he took another swig of his beer, "When last we met Draco," he said, "You were so terrified at the mere sight of me, that you damn near passed out on the spot. Now look at you. You are actually being hostile," he smiled, "I find this Draco Malfoy far more interesting, can we keep him?" Etean's tone had turned into pure sarcasm.

Draco had had enough. He had not come all this way to be made fun of. He stood up and picked up his cloak from the seat beside him.

"Where are you going?" Etean asked, he seemed puzzled by Draco's behaviour.

Draco planted both fists on the table and leaned down till his eyes were level with Etean's, "I'm going home," he hissed, "I did not come here to wait in this hellhole for hours, only to have you show up and start insulting me," he stood up straight, "If you want to play games, find someone else to play with."

"Sit down," Etean said, picking up his beer again. It wasn't delivered as a command, not an order. Draco barely even heard the words, but he found himself sitting down again.

Etean leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table, "Now then," he said quietly, "I know that you didn't come here to be insulted. I think it's good that you are angry with me. It shows that somewhere under those layers of bravado lies some real character," he paused for a moment and looked at Draco, "Maybe this will work after all. So let us start this conversation again. Why did you come here?"

Draco sniffed, "I came here because this is where you said I'd find you. I came here for answers."

"Do you know the questions?"

Draco swore under his breath, more riddles, "Do you ever make any sense? What the hell do you mean, 'Do I know the questions?'"

Etean took up his mug, "I always make sense, just not to everyone else all the time. As for the questions…well that's simple. To have answers, you need questions. You cannot have one without the other. So," he took a drink, "What questions do you want me to answer, Draco?"

"Alright then," Draco leaned forward, "Here's one. Why did you want me to come to Paris? Why this place? It doesn't strike me as somewhere I'd expect to find Lord Etean," he jabbed a finger at the bar, "Even the bartender agrees with me. So why are we here? And," he moved his finger to Etean, "I want a straight answer, not some convoluted jumble of hints and clues."

Etean sat back, "A straight answer?" he smiled, "Oh that's going to be a tough one. But OK. First, did you read that book I showed you?"

"Yes I read it," Draco said, "And its brothers: All ten fucking volumes."

"Read them all did you?" Etean chuckled heartlessly, "Ouch! I'll bet that was pleasant."

Draco made to stand up to leave again, but Etean raised his hand and waved him down. "Alright, so you want to know why I brought you here. It's simple really," he shrugged, "I needed to know if my offer had really interested you. The fact that you're here is proof that it did. Making you come to Paris made sense…you'll see why soon enough," he paused to look around, "This place isn't important, it's just somewhere I come from time to time. As good a meeting point as any."

"Come here from time to time do you?" Draco sneered, "That thing behind the bar said you'd never been in here before."

"Eric you mean?" Etean pointed at the bar over his shoulder. "Well of course he would say that. You think he actually knows who I am?" Etean shook his head, "Come on Draco, Lord Etean would never been seen dead in a place like this."

"I don't follow you."

"Eric knows me," Etean shrugged again, "he just thinks I'm someone else that's all. Well actually he has bugger all idea who the hell I am," he cast his gaze around the room, "I daresay he doesn't know five people in here. Anonymity is about the only attractive feature of this establishment."

Draco's sneer deepened, "Come here to blend in do you?"

"Something like that, yes," Etean's face twisted into a grin, "This place can be fun though."

"You have a strange idea of fun," Draco sighed.

"Oh I do, do I? I don't think so," Etean casually drew up his sleeve, "Let me show you." He raised his arm and pointed across the pub to a table near the fireplace. A single dishevelled wizard sat at the table, nursing a mug of something that steamed. "You see him?"

"Yeah," Draco frowned, "Who is he?"

"No one really," Etean shook his head, "Just a patron of this establishment, with a strange view on personal hygiene. Watch him."

Draco complied. Etean gestured with his hand and the wizard sat bolt upright in his chair, as though someone had grabbed him at the shoulders and pulled him up. Etean flexed his fingers slightly. Slowly the man raised his hand and held it above the single candle on the table. Draco looked back to Etean, whose attention was still focused on the wizard.

"What are you doing?"

"Just watch," Etean said without breaking his concentration. Slowly, Etean moved his hand down. As he did so, the wizard lowered his hand into the flame of the candle. His expression changed into a grimace of pain. Etean continued to lower his hand and the wizard, despite his obvious discomfort, lowered his closer to the flame. His expression continued to show how much pain he was feeling, but he didn't move his hand. Instead, he lowered it still further, until the pain got so much that he started to scream and howl, but he didn't move his hand from the flame. Draco could barely stand to watch. Eric and the other patrons simply ignored the noise. This kind of behaviour was apparently not something unusual in this establishment. Etean kept his little game up for a full minute before he finally relented. He lowered his arm and the wizard was free. The man swore loudly and ran out of the bar, holding his scorched hand.

Etean turned to look at Draco, his expression was blank, "Is that what you consider fun?"

"No," he answered, "Not exactly. How did you do that?"

Etean smiled, "Want to learn eh? We'll get to that, its easier than you might think." He drained his mug, "Come on," he said, "let's go."

"Go? Where?" Draco asked, but then thought better of it, "Wait, I don't care, let's go somewhere else, anywhere else. This place stinks!"

"Sensitive aren't you? OK then."

Etean reached into his robes and drew out a small silver ball. He squeezed it in his hand and it started to glow, then he extended his hand towards Draco. "Touch it," he said.

Draco hesitated before reaching out and placing his hand on the orb. The world winked out, followed briefly by the familiar, unpleasant tug behind his navel as the portkey pulled him out of the inn. When the world came back, he was blinded by a sudden, bright light.

Draco blinked and looked around to see that he was standing in the lobby of a museum. He recognised it as the Louvre instantly, having been here many times before. It was the middle of the afternoon and, beneath the glass pyramid of the lobby, the place was packed. Dozens of muggles were milling about, chatting, or taking pictures of the sculptures that stood, dotted throughout the lobby. Not one of them seemed to have even noticed that two adolescent wizards had just appeared out of nowhere.

"Erm Etean," Draco said quietly, "Should we be here?"

Etean frowned, "What do you mean? This is a public museum you know."

"I know that, I meant we…well we shouldn't be here like this," he tugged on the front of his robes.

Etean didn't seem to get the point, "What are you talking about, Malfoy?"

"Wizards are not supposed to be seen by muggles in public," he spoke, not really believing that he was having this conversation, "We are supposed to blend in around muggles. This isn't exactly the way to dress in front of them."

"Muggles?" Etean's frown deepened, "Them?" he shook his head, "Don't worry about them Malfoy. It may have escaped your notice but they don't seem to be too worried about it, do they?"

Draco looked around. Less than five feet away, a muggle couple were posing for a picture next to a small orange statue. Draco looked over his shoulder and realised that he was standing between the couple and the person taking the picture. Neither the photographer nor the couple seemed to be aware of him. Draco walked up to the couple and waved in their face, no reaction. There was a flash from behind him as the picture was taken, and the couple moved from their pose. Draco had to jump aside to stop the man from colliding with him.

He turned back to Etean, confused, "They…they can't see us can they?"

"Ten points to you," Etean said sarcastically, "No, they can't see us," he turned on his heel, "You had better stay close," he called over his shoulder, "The charm has a very limited range."

Etean headed off, picking his way through the crowd. Draco had to hurry to keep up with him. He joined in at the back of a large crowd of muggles as they bustled off through a large set of doors into the main museum complex.

"Where are we going?" he asked as he ducked between an elderly couple.

"I would have thought that was pretty obvious even to you," said Etean without turning round, "They," he pointed to the people around them, "are a bunch of muggles and they are going on a tour of the finer works in the museum. We are going to tag along."

"Why?"

Etean shrugged as he looked with apparent interest at a large, bronze statue, "No reason really, it will kill time for us while we have a little chat. Plus, they are headed in the direction that we need to go so we may as well follow them."

"Oh," Draco shook his head, "OK then."

The crowd moved as the tour guide called them to follow her. Etean strolled along after them. They started down a long corridor, pausing every few minutes as the guide explained the details about some painting or other. Etean seemed to be genuinely interested in what she was saying, Draco couldn't care less.

"Do you really find this nonsense interesting?"

Etean waited for the guide to finish and move on before he answered, "Interesting?" he looked at Draco, "Yes, it's very interesting, Draco. Some of these muggle artists were quite talented, you know?"

"Yes but," Draco sighed, "What does being here have to do with…anything?"

"Nothing," Etean said simply, "I just like art, that's all. But," he said, almost reluctantly, "I suppose, we should get to business. Have you heard from your father?"

"What does Lucius have to do with this?"

"More than you know," Etean answered, then waved the question off, "but he is out of it for the moment, I was really only asking out of curiosity. In any case, I don't expect Azkaban to hold him for long, and I suspect he that will try to contact you fairly soon after he is free."

"Is that a fact?" Draco blinked. Etean certainly did seem to know a lot about him, and his family, a lot more than Draco was really comfortable with. He pushed that thought aside for the moment, Etean's statement, from wherever it had come, made a lot of sense. The thought of helping his father, who would almost certainly be a fugitive from the law, made his heart race. Getting dragged into Lucius' little games…or worse was not something he was looking forward to. If Lucius got out of Azkaban, that would be all well and good for him, but Draco knew one thing, he wanted no part of it. Whether he would be offered a choice on the other hand…he sighed, "My father has been scheming and plotting and interfering in my life for as long as I can remember. It's the way it's always been. I try not to think about him if I can avoid it."

"Is that so? Interesting…" Etean stopped beside a small stone statue of an eagle. The tour had stopped to admire a large landscape on the opposite wall. Etean turned to Draco, "We're here."

Draco frowned, "We're where?"

"Where we're supposed to be of course," Etean raised his hand and touched the statue. A large silver ring on his middle finger glowed briefly. Draco heard a strange gurgling sound coming from all around him. He looked around to identify a source for the noise, and was surprised to see the archway beside him filling with water. The level rose rapidly and, in seconds, the entire arch was full. The muggle tour continued on, first the guide, and then the rest of the tour passed through the water, apparently not even noticing that it was there. Draco saw them continue on past the archway unheeded, to the next interesting painting. Etean clasped Draco's shoulder and gestured at the standing sheet of water, inviting Draco to step through.

"Well?" he said when Draco hesitated, "Go on then, it won't bite you." The sarcastic tone in his voice angered Draco. He shut his eyes, gritted his teeth, and stepped through the arch. A wave of ice washed over him for a moment, and then he felt warm air again. Draco opened his eyes. He was still standing in the corridor, but something wasn't right. The muggles were gone for one thing, hadn't they just been there? The paintings were gone too, and in their place stood a series of darkened recesses. Draco couldn't make out what they contained. Bewildered, he turned around and looked back through the arch. He could see muggles continue to walk into the water and vanish. Draco jumped aside as Etean emerged beside him.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"We're still in the museum," Etean answered calmly, "Still in the same corridor in fact."

Draco stared at the water, the muggles were still passing into the far side and vanishing, "Where are they going?"

"They are here in the corridor, continuing their tour."

Draco turned back to Etean, "You're talking in riddles again."

"Yes I am, sorry," Etean smiled, "Think of it like this. This corridor is both a secret place and a public place. For most people, even most wizards, that come here, this corridor is as the muggles see it, as you first saw it, full of fine art and museum patrons. For others though, a very select few others, it is much more. I think I should give you the tour, and then maybe you will understand." Etean turned and walked towards the nearest darkened alcove. As he approached, torches ignited on either side of the darkness to reveal a large portrait on the wall. Etean stood next to the painting and turned to face Draco again, "You know him?" he gestured at the painting.

Draco looked at the image. Unlike most paintings he was used to, this one didn't move, it was as still and unchanging as the rest of the muggle art in the museum. The painting was a portrait of an old man, a wizard by the look of him. He wore plain silver robes, matching his long, arrow straight, silver hair. His face was stern and set. It was a face Draco had seen before, he recognised him instantly. There wasn't a witch or wizard who wouldn't have.

"Merlin!" he exclaimed, surprised at how much pride he felt at getting the question right, "That's a portrait of Merlin."

"Very good," Etean nodded, "You're scoring high today. Yes," he turned briefly to the portrait, "this is Merlin, who, as you remember from your reading, was the first of the wizard Emperors of Europe. He lived and died over two thousand years ago and, yet, he is still remembered today," Etean turned to Draco, "Do you know why he is remembered?"

Draco nodded, "He was the most powerful wizard of his time, maybe even of all time. Single-handedly, he managed to unite the warring magical tribes of Europe under one banner, and he kept them together for almost a century. He invented most of the spells we take for granted today and…" Draco's voice trailed off when he saw the smirk on Etean's face. "What?"

"Oh nothing, nothing at all, I was just wondering when you were going to stop quoting that damned book."

"You asked!" said Draco indignantly.

"I know, I know," Etean waved him off, "Well yes, everything you said is true, but the important point here is, do you know how he became the most powerful wizard of all time?"

"Well he…erm" Draco foundered, he should know this, shouldn't he? "Well… wasn't he just born that way?"

"No," Etean shook his head, "Not quite. Merlin was skilled from birth, of that there is no question. Unassisted, he managed to do something that no one before him had done, something that no one has been able to duplicate since."

"What?" Draco interrupted.

Etean paused and took a deep breath before he answered, "Here goes," he said, "When the universe was created, right back at the very beginning, there was magic. Not magic as we know it today, not even as Merlin knew it two thousand years ago, but it was magic nonetheless. That magic was infinitely powerful, too powerful to be described in words. There are some believe that it was that magic that created the universe itself, but that doesn't really matter," Etean moved closer to the painting, "What does matter is that, after the universe was born, the magic shattered. Infinite power divided into an infinite number of fragments, that scattered themselves throughout the whole of space and time. The vast majority of them merged into the world, infusing it with their power and creating magic as we know it today. Some vanished, lost forever in limbo, while a small few, the interesting ones as far as this story goes, survived, they were scattered with the rest through time, but they remained intact. Merlin," Etean pointed to the portrait again, "was the first wizard to figure this out. He devoted his life to studying these lost fragments, and, in the end, he came up with a way to find them, and harness their power. It wasn't easy, it took him years but he did it, he trapped one."

Draco's mouth hung open, "How?"

Etean laughed, "I knew that you'd jump to that part right off," he shrugged, "The answer is we don't know. Merlin never told anyone how he did it. I guess he didn't want anyone else to have that kind of power," Etean looked back at the painting, "What we do know is what he did with it. Merlin fashioned a gem to hold the fragment and to channel and focus its power to do whatever he wanted. That is why we remember him and speak his name with reverence. That is how he forged the Empire. While he had the fragment, he could do almost anything. There were none that could oppose him." Etean paused and pointed at the painting. "Take a look," he said, "the proof is right there." Draco looked at the painting again, this time his eyes were drawn downward. Merlin was holding golden sceptre in his hand, cradling it like a baby. The sceptre was studded with jewels, but, at its end was a gem that made the rest fade to insignificance. Draco was mesmerised by it, it sparkled even from within the painting.

Etean continued talking, "The Qui-del Zahar," he said slowly, "The Essence of Purity. That's what it was called. Merlin bore that sceptre, and that stone all his days."

Draco continued to stare at the gem. Etean stepped closer to the painting and reached into a darkened recess below it. When he took his hand, he was holding a sceptre, the same sceptre that Merlin was holding in the portrait. "Look familiar?" he said, turning to hand the sceptre to Draco. Draco took it and looked at it. It was stunning. He couldn't even guess as to its value. The gold was polished to a dazzling shine and engraved with a delicate, almost organic pattern of lines and curves. The collective shimmer of the many jewels was so bright that Draco almost had to squint just looking at them. Draco's eyes roved over the piece, and were drawn to the top, to the focus of the sceptre, but something was missing. The central jewel mounting was empty, the gem had been removed.

"What happened to the stone?"

"What happens to all powerful things," Etean replied, "It was passed on. For all his power, Merlin was not immortal." Etean took the sceptre back and replaced it in its alcove. "He lived and died in the normal way, and when he was gone he passed the stone and its power to…" he stepped away and walked to the next alcove. As the last one had, this one lit up as he approached. Another painting hung here, of a woman. Again she didn't move, she was as still as Merlin beside her.

"Genusia!" Etean declared, "Daughter of Merlin, Empress of Europe, Queen of the World," he paused, "I'm paraphrasing of course but that is the jist of what the title she fashioned for herself translates to." Draco looked up at her. She wore robes of deep royal blue, her face surrounded by her silver hair resembled her father's. She wore the same stern expression he had. On her head she wore a silver crown, studded with jewels and in the centre…

"There it is, the Qui…whatever you called it."

"The Qui-del Zahar," Etean repeated, "Yes that's it. Genusia chose to wear it in her crown. She was the youngest of Merlin's seven children, and she inherited her father's mantle, though not his quite, peace loving disposition." Etean again reached into the alcove, this time he withdrew a crown, Genusia's silver crown, again, minus the central jewel. Draco examined it briefly before returning it to Etean so they could move on.

They continued down the length of the corridor. Each story was similar, each emperor or empress had born the Qui-del Zahar in a different manner. Some on sceptres, some in crowns, one, Alterix the second, had even worn it in place of his right eye! In each case, the mounting upon which each of them had carried the stone in remained by their image, all without the jewel. The pattern continued until, at last, they came to the final alcove, the one that held Charon's picture, and the golden chest plate on which he had born the gem. As before, the stone was missing, but this was different, this time, after the introduction, Etean paused.

"Now," he said, replacing Charon's breastplate in its alcove, "You read the book, so tell me, what happened after Charon?"

Draco cast his mind back to dredge up the answer, "Charon died without an heir," he said, "He had no one pass his throne to. After he was gone, there was a dispute over the succession of the throne. Some of the more powerful wizards governing the outer provinces tried to break away from the empire. Other governors declared themselves Emperor unilaterally. Fifty years of civil war and revolution followed, as the empire tore itself asunder, leading to a dark age of sorts. If it hadn't been for the likes of Slytherin and Gryffindor, the magical world may have self destructed entirely."

Etean listened as Draco spoke, and nodded when he finished, "Good," he said, "That pretty much summarises what the history books recorded, but," he held up a finger, "they didn't record everything," Etean walked away from the alcove and started to pace, "Charon was no fool. He knew that after he was gone war would follow. Even if he had of chosen someone to take his place it would have done no good, he knew it would only delay the inevitable. The fact is that the world was tired of the Empire. It was only by the sheer might of the Emperors that it had lasted as long as it did, and Charon knew it. At the same time, he knew that he couldn't allow the power of the Qui-del Zahar to fall into the wrong hands. So, Charon, in his last official act as Emperor, made and carried out a decision that would affect the lives of every wizard for the rest of history."

"What did he do?"

"He shattered the stone! The day he died he broke the Qui-del Zahar into twelve equal fragments. These pieces were entrusted to the twelve members of the Council of Avignon."

"Who?"

"You know," Etean shook his head, "If you insist on continually interrupting me, this is going to take a long time."

"Sorry."

"That's better. The Council of Avignon had existed for as long as the Empire had. Its members were advisors to the Emperors on all matters of state. They were the ones the Emperors trusted above all others.

"Charon gave each of the council members a single fragment, to use as they would. He knew that they could not hope to keep the Empire together, but he tasked the council with preserving the ideals and knowledge that the Empire represented. It was to be their job to ensure that the world didn't self destruct completely as it fell into chaos and war," Etean jabbed a finger at Draco, "You say that it was Slytherin, Gryffindor and their allies that held the world together, and you're right to an extent, but they didn't do it alone. They could not have done it without the help of the Council. Without them, your world would not exist today."

"Is that so? So how come I have never heard of them?"

Etean scoffed, "Because that is how they wanted it to be. After Charon died, the members of the council knew that they were in danger. They were the last public symbol of a government that was falling apart fast. They knew that, in order for them to survive, they would have to disappear. They made no attempt to hold onto the power of the emperor, choosing instead to gauge the strengths and weaknesses of the various factions. When the wars inevitably started, they simply slipped away, fashioned new, quieter identities for themselves and got to work."

"But how could they just vanish? If they were as important as you say, surely they would have been recognised."

"They vanished because they chose to," Etean's voice became suddenly stern. "They were trained in magical arts that you have never even dreamed of, better trained than any other wizards of their time, and they had at their disposal a power that none could match. Who is to say that they couldn't just vanish?"

"So where did they go?" Draco asked sarcastically.

"Nowhere," was the answer, "The just became people. In public they acted as ordinary wizards, had jobs, got married, had kids the works. In private however it was a different story, they each had a lifetimes experience in the real way that politics worked. They knew all the cracks, every back door. Silently they moved into the shadows and positioned themselves so that they could influence the outcome of the wars. They chose who won and who lost. They decided what new powers would rise to fill the vacuum left by the Empire's demise. I suppose it wasn't even that tough, a nudge here, a quiet shove there and the world danced to their tune."

"I don't believe it. It can't be that simple for to manipulate history."

"Really? Are you sure? Who am I Draco?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's a simple question, who am I?"

"Great, more mind games. OK I'll play. You're Robert Etean."

"That's right now, what am I?"

"You mean other than a colossal pain in the neck?"

"Apart from that yes. I have a title, what is it?"

"Lord Etean...though I could suggest a few others if you'd like."

"Correct again," Etean raised his eyebrow, but ignored the comment, "Do you know what it means to be Lord Etean?"

Draco folded his arms and sighed, "No, what?"

"It means that people listen to me. I told you when we first met that my birthday party was really about was self important people wanting to be my friend. You must know why…"

"Politics?"

"Yes, politics," Etean spat the word, "For three centuries, no decision has been made by the French Administrative Committee without the support of the Lord Etean. I am the fifteenth person to hold that title, all those who came before me played a large role in the way the French government operated. Every vote cast, every debate argued, every decision that was made. If someone on the Committee sneezed, Lord Etean received a detailed report."

"But even so," Draco frowned, "Its not like you're all powerful or anything, is it?"

"No," Etean shook his head, "I'm not. In fact, in legal terms, I have very little power indeed, but that doesn't matter…politicians are people, Draco. People listen to me. All I need to do is whisper a polite suggestion in the right ear at the right time…who is to say what I can't achieve?"

Draco paused, he had been a 'guest' at enough stuffy parties to know just how much of what appeared to be idle chitchat turned out to be big business. He'd seen Lucius conduct million galleon deals over a punchbowl or two. Lucius had always had an agenda, it was true, and it was true that attending those parties and having those little chats had often times been his means of carrying that agenda out. Suppose this was no different. Suppose this was merely the same process at a larger scale…

He turned to Etean, wondering just how grand the scale really was, "And you're a member of this Council of Avignon?"

"No," Etean shook his head, "that name died with the Empire. We are The Circle."

"The Circle?"

"Yes, time passed and the council changed. The reality of our situation forced us to adapt and grow. New members were brought in to replace those that died while other were trained to aid our work, filling needs as they were identified. We chose to become The Circle, the secret hand behind civilisation. We are in every shadow, every dark corner watching, waiting for the right time to make our move. No important choice is made that the Circle doesn't know about, or approve of."

Draco's mouth was dry, the secret hand of civilisation? Something told him that that wasn't meant as a euphemism, Etean didn't strike him as the poetic type. He couldn't believe what Etean had just told him. The sheer scale of it baffled him. A thought forced its way into his mind. He remembered what had brought him here.

"What…what does all this have to do with me?"

"I'd have though you could have guessed that by now. Out of each generation, a few worthy candidates are chosen to be brought within the circle and given a chance to be a part of something truly important. We have chosen to offer that privilege to you."

"Me?"

"Yes," Etean looked him in the eye, "You," he stepped forward, "I want you to understand what we are talking about here, Draco. Within the circle, anything is possible. Within the Circle, you will have the chance to learn things you can't even imagine now. You could learn more about magic in a day than Hogwarts could teach in a lifetime. You asked how I made that man in the inn hurt himself. This is your chance to learn how, and learn more besides, much more."

Draco took a breath, "Why me?"

Etean hesitated for a moment, "That is something I cannot tell you," he said, "Not all of it anyway, not yet. What I can tell you is that the selection was not made lightly. Many factors contributed to this, some you would understand, some you wouldn't." He reached out and grasped Draco's shoulder. "It won't be easy, you will be tested and you may fail before the end, but we didn't make a mistake in this, Draco. Whatever else you believe, believe that. You are the one to whom this was to be offered."

Draco raised his head and looked Etean in the eye, "I don't believe this."

"I know you don't," Etean smiled, "Believe me that is the best way to start. For now, think about this. I told you when we first met that you were free to choose and I meant it. Now you have been told what is on offer. You know what you could gain, and I think you are smart enough to know what it will cost. I leave it to you, this time I can only give you one day to consider your response. At this time tomorrow I will find you, and you will give me your answer, and note, it will be your final answer, 'Yes' or 'No', once and for all. If you accept, then we shall progress to the next stage, if you decline, then that will very likely be the last time we meet. You will be allowed to return to your life as it was."

Etean released Draco and stepped back, "It's about time I left you," he said, checking his watch, "Two things. First, you may remain here as long as you like. You leave the way you entered – do I need to tell you not to try to steal anything?" Draco shook his head. "Good enough," Etean nodded, "Second, the Circle is not to be exposed. If you speak of any of this to a living soul…" his eyes flashed with silver fire.

"I understand," Draco said.

"OK then, good night Draco Malfoy."

Pop!

He was gone leaving Draco alone.