The door opened, light flooded into the bedroom, Draco shut his eyes and tried to feign sleep. He didn't move as he heard someone enter the room. He heard the door close, followed by footsteps as they walked across to stand at the end of the bed. For a long minute, Etean just stood there, watching as Draco pretended to sleep.

"I'll make you a deal Draco," he said at last, "I won't patronise you by pretending that you didn't just hear what you just heard and you don't patronise me by pretending to be asleep." Draco opened his eyes, with some difficulty and not a little pain, he sat up and looked at Etean. Etean stared at him for a few minutes. Reading his expression, Draco thought he looked sad.

"How do you feel?" He said at last.

Draco tried to think of something, some stinging remark to hurl at him. But nothing came, "Like someone just tried to kill me." It was the truth.

Etean snorted, "I suppose that's good considering that is what just happened. Seriously though, how do you feel?"

"The pain is almost gone," Draco lied, he still hurt all over. He looked down at his arm. It was bandaged from the elbow right down to his fingertips. "I think these bandages are too tight. I can't feel my hand."

Etean paused, then shook his head, "No the bandages are fine, they aren't why you can't feel your hand."

Something in his tone worried Draco, "What do you mean?" he asked nervously.

"You were hit with the killing curse Draco," Etean shook his head slightly. "It wasn't a full hit. You managed to dodge the worst of it. Your cloak took most of the rest…but some got through. Your hand is dead Draco."

"What do you mean dead?"

"I mean dead," Etean repeated the words as calmly as he had first said them, "Dead, as in no longer alive. The spell killed the nerves and muscles in your arm. Everything from the forearm down is dead." Draco looked at his hand again. He tried to move his fingers but he couldn't even manage to make them twitch. He started to pull at the bandages, trying to free his fingers. Etean moved around the bed and grabbed his left hand. "Don't. Leave them on."

Draco looked up at him, "Can you fix it?"

"No," there was a hint of sadness in Etean's voice, "We can't bring it back to life, nothing can. Lord Poliakov is preparing a treatment that will return the use of it to you. But it will never be as it was." Draco looked back to his arm, it was completely numb, like it wasn't even there. Etean released him and moved over to the window. "Tell me, did your father's actions surprise you tonight?"

Draco thought hard before answering, "No…not really. He has always been too obsessed with Voldemort to give a damn about me."

"A fair assessment," Etean nodded without turning round, "One that we also made before we contacted you. So…are you going to ask me or not?"

"Ask you what?"

"You heard what we were discussing out there, you must be curious. We were discussing you after all."

"Arguing about me is more what I heard. You don't get on with Lord Menai do you?"

Etean laughed aloud, "That is about the largest understatement that I have ever heard you say Draco. Menai loathes me and I feel exactly the same about him, the reasons are personal and private. But that isn't the question you want to ask me now is it?"

"No…I guess it isn't. What was did he mean when he said that you wanted Voldemort to capture me?"

"We spoke about that before. You know that our plan involved you defeating Voldemort."

"No," Draco turned on the bed to face Etean, "There's more to it than that. Lord Menai mentioned a ritual, what was he talking about?"

Etean closed his eyes and pressed his head against the glass. He sighed loudly and turned round, "Alright then, I'll tell you. I had hoped that we could leave this conversation until later, until you were stronger. But time it appears is set against us.

"The ritual that…Lord Menai spoke of is called The Ascension. But 'ritual' isn't really an accurate description. Really it is a series of complicated rites and rituals culminating in a sacrifice – a human sacrifice." Etean paused, the sound of his words faded away as a lump of ice formed in Draco's gut. "For the one who successfully completes it, The Ascension is the gateway to unbelievable power – the power to control life and death itself. If Voldemort succeeds, if he Ascends then he will be unstoppable."

Etean left the window and started to walk slowly around the room as he continued, "The Circle first learned that Voldemort was trying to perform The Ascension seventeen years ago. We don't know where or how he learned about it but we do know that he was close. By the time we became aware of it, he had already figured out all the pieces of the puzzle but one thing eluded him…the sacrifice. Voldemort learned, and so did we that he could not perform the Ascension then because the soul he needed to sacrifice was beyond his reach."

"You mean me?" Draco swallowed hard, "Voldemort wants to sacrifice…me?"

"Yes…you. The soul that is sacrificed must be of equal merit to the soul that Ascends, exactly equal, no more, no less. In other words, for Voldemort to Ascend he must sacrifice his heir – you. That is why he couldn't do it seventeen years ago, you weren't even born then." Etean turned, pacing back and forth by the end of the bed. "Do you know what happened when Voldemort attacked Harry Potter?"

The question came out of nowhere. Draco was puzzled for several moments before he remembered to answer, "No, nobody knows. He tried to kill Potter but ended up destroying himself," he shrugged, "Or so everyone thought anyway."

Etean nodded, "Yes everyone did, including The Circle. As far as we knew at the time, Voldemort was still searching for his heir. He hadn't learned of the tablet at the time so he was essentially searching blind. That little fact didn't deter him though, he searched and searched. Originally The Council assumed that he believed that Potter was his heir. They believed that Voldemort was attempting to use Harry Potter to Ascend and that he had botched the ritual. It was believed that it was that failure that destroyed him."

"Something tells me it wasn't that simple," said Draco.

"No," Etean sighed, "We know now that Voldemort never believed that Potter was his heir. He tried to kill the boy outright," Etean shrugged, "He must have had his reasons to do it but thus far, they have eluded us," he sighed, "So, for what ever reason Voldemort was gone. The Council actually believed they were off the hook. But then…"

"Then he came back."

"Yes…he came back and by all accounts, worse than ever. We saw evidence of his return almost within days of his…rebirth," Etean shook his head, a visible shudder ran through him, "For the most part, the details of his return have largely escaped us. We have theories and speculations but nothing more. But the how he came back really doesn't matter in the end. He was back and the Council knew that one of his goals would be to find his heir, to find you, and finish what he started. We also realised that Voldemort was now at a disadvantage. He didn't know who you were, but we did. We had figured that out a long time ago. The Circle has been…watching you rather closely for many years. To see if you showed any signs of following in his footsteps – you hadn't by the way. So our question then became what to do with you?"

"Oh," said Draco, there didn't appear to be anything else to say.

"Yes," said Etean quietly, "Oh! The simplest course of action would have been to kill you. I must admit, when I first learned the truth of the situation that that was the course of action I favoured. It was the safer course."

"So…why didn't you…" Draco hesitated, "I mean what changed your mind?"

"Voldemort!"

"Voldemort?"

"Yes, he is evil Draco, and powerful. The simple truth of the matter is that he is too powerful and getting stronger all the time. Killing you would prevent him from becoming all powerful but at the rate he is going, soon that won't matter. We have to stop him and like it or not, this may be our only chance."

"But how can allowing Voldemort to capture me and perform this ritual that will make him all powerful be our only chance to stop him?"

"Because he is strong, too strong for us to take him out with a frontal assault but, in order for him to complete the ritual and Ascend, he will have to let his guard down. I won't go into the details now but, during the final stages of the ritual, he will be vulnerable. When he is you will be in a position to strike, and destroy him. He will be gone forever."

"And what happens to me?"

Etean hesitated, "We aren't sure. If you are strong enough you might survive." Something in his voice made it clear just how unlikely that last part was.

Draco laughed, "Try to sound a little less confident why don't you?"

"I'm not confident," Etean turned and looked Draco in the eye, "You can survive this, but at best I give you have one chance in twenty. This is not a good situation, not what I wanted to happen but here we are. We have no choice now. We…"

Draco raised his left hand and cut him off. The thoughts were buzzing round and round in his head. He looked down at his bandaged right hand, his dead right hand. Dead! Just like the rest of him would be soon. The finality of that thought rocked him. He had been fighting to avoid that thought for the last few days. He was as good as dead. He couldn't run, he had nowhere to hide from it. So he was dead, the end of Draco Malfoy, but what did that matter? Who would miss him? Certainly not his father, probably not even his mother would be that upset. His friends? What friends? Not one of them really gave a damn about him. They might mention him from time to time but not often. Was that all he was? Was that what his life amounted to? He was dead and that was it. But could it be more? Could his death mean something more than his life had? Could he take Voldemort with him? He looked Etean in the eye.

"One chance in twenty?" he strained to make himself sound confident, "Sounds like good odds to me. I'll take the bet. Put me in for a galleon, no a hundred galleons."

Etean looked puzzled, "Are you certain you understood me Draco? You seem to be taking this rather better than I had imagined."

Draco shrugged, "Well considering I have no other choice, I may as well get on with it." He moved to stand up. "What happens now?" Etean moved over and pushed him back onto the bed.

"Now, you rest, we'll finish this conversation later." He put his hand over Draco's eyes and he fell fast asleep.

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Draco awoke to blinding pain. Something was burning his right arm. He screamed and tried to pull away but he couldn't. He opened his eyes to see Lord Poliakov standing over him. His right arm was submerged in a cauldron, it hurt like hell. Again he tried to pull it out but the old man held him in a surprisingly strong grip.

"Shh, I know it hurts. Believe me that is a good thing." He said, still holding onto Draco's arm. He stared intently into the cauldron, watching whatever was in there, burning Draco's hand off, for several minutes before he released him. Draco pulled his had free and looked at it, as soon as it was out of the cauldron, the pain vanished. His hand was covered with gold. The metal covered his fingertips and wound its way in a spider web pattern across his skin right up to the middle of his forearm. His skin beneath the metal was darker, it had a bluish tint. It felt cold and clammy to the touch but it was still numb, now that the pain was gone he couldn't feel it at all.

"What did you do to me?" Draco asked.

"Robert explained to you what happened to your hand?" said Poliakov.

"Yes," Draco swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat, "he said it was dead."

"Yes, and it is. This will allow you to use it however."

"How?"

"The metal is bonded to your skin, it will take the place of your nerves and muscles, allowing you to feel and use your hand." Draco looked at his hand. He still couldn't move it, or feel it.

"But…I can't move my fingers. It doesn't work."

"I haven't activated it yet. It is better if you are awake when I do." Poliakov reached over and touched his hand. There was the briefest of flashes as a spark jumped from his fingers to touch the metal. Draco's hand came alive, he could feel it again. But it felt strange, like it was asleep. He touched it, but could barely feel the contact. He tried to move his fingers. At first they wouldn't budge, he tried as hard as he could and eventually he could get them to flinch, just the merest twitch. "Very good." Poliakov seemed genuinely pleased.

"Good?" said Draco in disbelief, "I can barely move it. It feels weird."

"Of course it does, it will take time for the metal to learn to take the place of your old nerves. Have patience, it will get better."

"How long will I be like this?"

"It is hard to say, it all depends on you I'm afraid." Draco tried to move his fingers again, it didn't seem to be getting any easier. He grimaced and turned his hand around, examining how the metal was wound around his fingers. Then he noticed the scar! It started just beside his thumb and stretched across the back of his hand. The metal seemed to avoid it, framing it perfectly on his skin. He had seen that scar before.

"Ah yes" said Poliakov, "the scar. Curious that. It would appear that the killing curse leaves a mark on those it fails to destroy. It is strange that we never realised it before but then testing it would have been a messy prospect."

The tone of Poliakov's voice was light, suggesting that he was joking but Draco was in no mood to laugh. In fact he was nearly ready to cry, "Why…" he began, but his voice failed him.

Poliakov put his hand on his shoulder, "I know this is hard Draco. It is more of a burden than anyone should have to bear. But you are not alone. You are part of the Circle and we are with you. More importantly, Robert will be with you, he has vowed to be with you till the end."

"The end. But it's not his end, its my end."

"Maybe," Lord Poliakov shrugged, "I don't know what will happen. But I can tell you this." He sat on the bed beside Draco. "I am an old man. I have been doing…well doing this for a long time. I think I have learned to get the measure of a person when I look them in the eye. And I can see that you are strong Draco, even if you can't. You have the strength to get through this, and you have us, The Circle and most importantly, you have Robert."

"Etean?"

"Yes, Etean. In all my years I have seen many truly exceptional wizards come and go. But not one of them was ever even close to Robert Etean. He is the best The Circle has ever seen, maybe the best it will ever see. If he says he can get you through this, then he can do it or no one can. Trust me on this. Trust in him Draco."

Draco didn't answer, he just sat there staring at his hand. In the end, Poliakov stood up and left Draco alone. Draco just sat there, lost in thought. He wasn't alone for long however before Etean came back in, carrying a large pile of books. Draco stood as he dropped them onto the bed.

"What are all those for?"

"Hogwarts," Etean adjusted his robes, "These are your…correction, our books for next year." Draco walked over and looked at the scattered volumes. There seemed to be two of everything. A question occurred to him.

"Hang on," he said, "You're going to be in sixth year?"

"You didn't expect me to join first year did you?"

"Well no but…you're older than me, you should be in seventh year at least." Etean frowned.

"Actually I should have graduated last year. Dumbledore almost didn't let me enrol," he smiled, "But I have convinced him that, seeing as how I was home schooled all my life, I lack any proper academic qualifications. He has agreed for me to join the N.E.W.T. programme from the start – sixth year."

Draco looked at the books again, he noticed how many of them there were, "How many N.E.W.T.s are you planning on taking?" he asked.

"I don't know," Etean frowned at the books, "I just got two of every book on the list Dumbledore gave me. How many do people normally take?"

"Well, it varies. Most only do a couple. Some do lots, but only if they are after some top job or something."

Etean ran his fingers through his hair, "How many are you taking?"

"I…" Draco paused as it occurred to him that he had no idea how many he was going to take. It was one of those decisions he was planning on making over the summer but he hadn't even given it a second's thought. "I don't know. I'll do Potions anyway, probably Charms too, and Transfiguration. Maybe Defence Against the Dark Arts..."

Etean seemed pensive, he interrupted him, "That might come in handy, but I don't remember seeing any Defence class on the list."

"What?" Draco exclaimed, "It has to be!"

Etean dug around in his pocket and produced a piece of parchment. "See for yourself," He handed it to Draco.

Draco read it and then re-read it. There was no mention of Defence Against the Dark Arts at all.

"What is Dumbledore playing at? He has to run Defence, especially now."

"I'm not sure, but it isn't there. He must have his reasons I suppose. It doesn't matter really."

"Doesn't matter? Are you mad? It's the whole point of my going there at all remember?"

"I know why you're going there Draco," Etean's tone oozed calm. Draco found his breath slowing despite himself. "What you need to learn won't be taught in any class Hogwarts is running. I am going to teach you, quietly, in secret."

"How do you plan on doing that? It's not exactly easy to keep a secret in that place you know."

"Relax," Etean laughed, "Secrets are my job, remember?"

"Oh, that makes me feel much better."

"I thought it would. Now we'd better get ready. I've had some people go to your house and collect your things. They're in the other room. You want to go through them and see if there is anything else you need me to get for you before we leave."

"OK oh," Draco sighed, "I need a new wand…I lost mine in the woods the other night."

"Oh, shit yeah," Etean dug again inside his robes and produced Draco's wand, "I found this before I found you." He held it out to Draco, "In all the confusion, I forgot I still had it." Draco raised his hand, his right hand to take it. Etean's expression changed to one of pity as after an awkward moment, Draco took it with his left hand. "How is it?"

"I can barely even feel it," Draco smiled weakly, "Look's like I'll be left handed from here on in. Still I suppose it's no worse than I deserve."

"How do you figure that?"

"I shouldn't have left the room, it was stupid of me. I just…"

Etean stopped him, "It doesn't matter, what's done is done and we can't change it. There's no point shooting blame around or feeling sorry for ourselves. You'll get used to the hand. But in the meantime…learn to use the other one yeah?"

"I don't have a choice do I?"

"No, I guess you don't." They didn't speak about the hand again for the rest of the morning, neither wanted to. They went through all of Draco's school things and made a list of what needed to be bought. In the afternoon, Etean left Draco with Poliakov, working on his hand and collected everything they needed. When it was all packed, Draco went to bed but he couldn't sleep. He was going back to Hogwarts in the morning, probably for the last time. He found himself actually afraid of getting on the train. That had always been the start of the Hogwarts year for him, now it would be the beginning of the end.