Harry Potter gave Draco Malfoy the deadliest glare he could possibly muster. He certainly was not going to listen to anything Malfoy had to say to him; he was especially not going to be a "good boy" as Malfoy had so eloquently expressed. However Harry knew his fate was in the slimy, debauched hand of Draco Malfoy. Harry knew he had two options. One, possibly listen to Malfoy in his pathetic attempt to lure Harry with the "you don't remember anything" card, or two, try his best to intact his pride while he still could.

Looking at this two options, Harry instantly made up his mind and continued to glare.

Malfoy, upon acknowledging Harry's disdain, smirked even further, if that was humanly possibly, but then again Harry always thought Malfoy had some devilish quality about him.

"Potter you've grown dumber than the last time I saw you, and to think I thought your Gryffindor righteousness could not have sank any lower. No matter, change your disgusting muggle clothes and follow me," Malfoy said in a condescending way that further seethed Harry.

Harry hesitantly picked up the wizard robes, black, and eyed it suspiciously for any nasty curse then returned his gaze at Malfoy.

"You want to turn around so I could change?"

Malfoy frowned and angrily stomped out of the room.

What's his problem? Harry thought. I just want him to exhibit common courtesy.

Grumbling, Harry changed into the black robes and stepped out of the commodious room. Malfoy seemed to be fuming on a white leather couch. However Harry paid no attention to him because the scenery was simply unbelievable.

The room was vast and embellished with shiny objects with intricate decorations that would have taken decades to achieve. The walls had huge painting of what Harry perceive to be Malfoy's ancestors, all haughty and majestic. The paintings were quietly whispering among themselves as if sharing a delightful secret that no one but themselves could partake in. Even the frames that merely decorated them had a conceited air to it. Although individually, the paintings, along with their frames, seemed to be burdened with heavy decoration, they all seemed to merge together to create a perfect balance of a room.

There were two stairs that led up to upstairs, structuring the centerpiece of a chandelier, like everything else, was fortified with decoration to the point of sickness. The railing of the stairs matched everything else of the room and, in Harry's opinion, was made in solid gold. The floor to the room seemed just as sacred and untouchable; it seemed to be made of dark brown glass that looked as if it would shatter with the slightest weight.

Overall, though the room was heavily perfumed with details; it fit positively with Malfoy's personality. It was conceited and made others feel miniscule. Of course, Harry hated anything Malfoy, so he stepped heavily on to the glass-like floor (with his mud-filled shoes by the way, seeing as Malfoy didn't provide him with new shoes) in order to reach Malfoy.

Malfoy seemed to have regained his composure and gave Harry a look of disgust.

"Potter, your shoes are ruining the floor," Malfoy said.

With a snap of finger, a feeble-looking house elf appeared and presented expansive boots to Harry. Feeling pity for the house-elf, Harry changed his shoes, which disappeared along with the house-else.

"Potter, I know you're stupid and can't possibly comprehend anything I say. So, I'm just going to put this in the easiest way. What is it going to be for you to understand that I'm on your side?"

Harry was surprised at this question and thought carefully.

"Tell me where Ron and Hermione are. What happened to everybody? What's going on in the Wizarding world?" Harry asked.

"I don't know where your precious friends are Potter. And you have to specify who this 'everybody' is. What part of the Wizarding world are you asking about?"

Annoyed at Malfoy's incessant questioning, because Harry knew Malfoy did it on purpose, Harry gave another glare.

"I mean people at Hogwarts. I'm asking about the Ministry, obviously."

"A lot of people died and a lot of people became rich. Ministry's good right now, couldn't possibly be any better." Malfoy smirked, again.

"Fine! Keep your secrets, I'll find information another way; it's not like I trust anything you say."

"Potter, you're the one who refuses to tell me anything."

"What the hell are you talking about? I don't know anything!"

"Right, and that's precisely why you refuse to mention the Order of the Phoenix."

Harry stopped in his track and looked at Malfoy in confusion. How did Malfoy know?

He is a Death Eater, Harry rationalized.

"What? You think I didn't know about that? Everyone knows. The Dark Lord decimated them as soon as you 'died.' The Ministry right now is completely ran by Death Eaters."

Harry dreaded this truth. He knew from the bits of information from Slughorn that things were not so bright, but to think, the Order decimated and Death Eaters running rampantly, slaughtering muggles. Harry closed his eyes to calm his beating heart.

"Seems like the perfect world for you. Why would you want to help me?" Harry asked bitterly.

"Of course it's not the perfect world. I don't like Mudbloods, but I never asked to be signed up to be completely ruled by a Half-blood who's on a power-trip. Excuse me, not the Half-Blood himself, but his maniac followers who had one too many Crucio's to count. I never wanted to ruled by crazy people who have no idea how to run a government," Malfoy replied just as bitterly.

"What do you mean his followers?"

"The Dark Lord was very perspicuous and shrewd during the war, a bit cruel I admit, but after you destroyed all of his souls, he seemed to turn senile. He has no interest in the world and only attends social parties to have obsequious followers kiss his ass everyday."

"Then why do they keep him? Why not go ahead without him?"

"Potter, again, how dumb can you be? No, don't answer that, I really don't want to know your pathetic capability of human intelligence. I'll tell you. The Dark Lord is a symbol; a symbol of power that no one dares to question. Everyone is too afraid of what the other will do if he truly is gone. There will be a civil war, no doubt, on which Death Eater will rein supreme. The Dark Lord is just a mediator between Death Eater disputes; he's useless in any other arena of expertise."

Harry's thoughts jumbled at this point. Up to this chapter of his life, his sole goal was to defeat the Dark Lord. He knew, from day one, that once Voldemort was defeated, everything will be right again. He knew that without Voldemort, everything can persevere, no other obstacle other than Voldemort stood in the way of a serene, peaceful society. However, from Malfoy's words, things were completely different. It wasn't Voldemort who was the supreme enemy, but the whole government system itself. These thoughts dampened his mood drastically.

Nothing ever goes right does it? Harry thought.

As if reading Harry's thoughts Malfoy answered his dilemma.

"As long as you kill some important Death Eaters along with the Dark Lord, everything will turn its tide. The majority of the Wizarding population doesn't like this reign too much, even most Death Eaters."

"Why do you think I can succeed? I'm only lucky when it comes to escaping Voldemort," Harry asked sincerely.

"Maybe, but people will listen to you. After your presumed death, the whole Wizarding world seemed have just given up on the fight against Voldemort. Upon seeing this moment of weakness, Death Eaters overtook the Ministry and created this world. Potter, it's not about your magical ability or intelligence, because then there would be really no hope considering-"

"Malfoy just get on with it!"
"Alright, no need to get impatient. My main contention to this argument is that your fame enough will grab the attention of the populace. Whether you like it or not, you're the poster boy for the Light; people will listen to you, and probably only you. Anyone can easily kill these Death Eaters, but it won't do any good. There are hundreds of people ready to fill these positions. However, when you do the killing, no one will dare to question you."

Harry was frustrated. He couldn't possibly understand what was so special about him that people seem to worship. It was all because of his sheer luck that he survived to this day. Luck that he survived Voldemort; luck that the muggles changed his appearance; and luck that enabled him to receive training from Regulus Black.

"Potter, think about it. You died a martyr, a bloody saint that died at such as young age-"

"So did many people, like Cedric and -"

"Potter, you're not listening to me. It doesn't matter what these others did, you're the one who openly oppose the Dark Lord at the worst of times; you're the one that lived through the first time. To everyone else, you're sacred, pristine, and unadulterated. You're the epitome of good. Why don't you get it through that thick head of yours? If you suddenly came back and executed those miscreants that made everyone suffer. You'll achieve a godly status."

Malfoy's words sank in. Harry had never thought things this way. He had always assumed that people thought he was a orphaned boy who wanted attention, and yet they turn to him at the darkest times for solace. They viewed him as some deity. It didn't matter that he was very mortal and almost died.

"Is that why your helping me? To have someone to hide for your political agendas?"

Harry knew not the trust Malfoy. If Malfoy offered to help, there must be another reason. He would not just readily throw away six years of antagonism so that Harry could "save the world."

"If that's what you want to believe Potter. I know you don't trust me, but I'm possibly your last hope in achieving your goal."

"Why? What makes you think that I couldn't just sneak into the homes of Death Eaters and kill them nice and easy?"

Malfoy's expressions were unreadable, but there was no hatred or hint of a smirk.

"You can't get in that easily. You'll have to get past all the heavy security."

At this reply, Harry said down at the milky colored sofa and let himself simply melt into it. Him work with Malfoy? This thought left a sour taste in his mouth. He would have to depend on Malfoy. He would have to do everything to Malfoy's whim because he needed Malfoy.

"Why do you so readily accept this? I thought you hated me."

"Things aren't good right now. I may be still rich, but to have every laughter sugarcoated with lies and to have every smile burdened with anguish, it starts to take on toll on your after three years."

"That can't be right. You never simply help because it benefits other people," Harry insisted. He had to get the crux of the matter. He was not going to settle for anything less.

"Fine, if you don't believe then come with me."

Malfoy flared his black robes walked pretentiously to a gigantic fireplace with an equally intimidating fire and said "Diagon Alley" while dusting himself with floo-powder in an ornate jar.

Annoyed that Malfoy had to so showy, Harry tried to emanate his vexation through another glare, but Malfoy's body was engulfed by the flare and disappeared. Harry followed Malfoy's example and cried "Diagon Alley" with a handful of floo-powder, glad that he didn't have glasses this time.

Harry's body twirled with an all-too-familiar feeling and fell to the ground of Leaky Cauldron.

Harry heard a snicker and knew instantly that Malfoy was the culprit. He decided not to comment and tried his best to stand out without looking like a fool.

"Potter, follow my lead. Try to look like a servant of mine and don't talk unless I tell you to."

Harry was peeved that he had to play the servant. It must be Malfoy's dream come true to have him to wait on Malfoy. Harry merely huffed and soaked in his surrounding.

Leaky Cauldron was not what it used to be. There was not a huge crowd and the friendly atmosphere was no longer alive. Although it was very nosy, it just felt different than his previous visits.

Malfoy walked just as conceited as before and no one seemed to pay any attention to him, as if having a Harry Potter look alike following the Malfoy heir was a common day occurrence. Harry decided not to questions good things while they lasted.

Malfoy tapped his wand three times at the wall to uncover the vast world of Diagon Alley.

"Where's my wand, Malfoy?" Harry hissed.

"I have it, now shut up and look like a servant," Malfoy snapped.

Diagon Alley mirrored the Leaky Cauldron and the Muggle World. It was deadly quiet compared to what it had previously been. There were still numerous people shopping, though it probably was not as busy because school year had already begun. Yet, even with the comfort of the crowd, the mood still remained bleak. There were no ruddy children running around; they were all held firmly by the hands by mothers who all seemed apprehensive. There were no flashy objects or pleasant conversation occurring; everyone seemed to be suspicious of each other.

Several people exchanged pleasantries with Malfoy, yet they all did not question Harry's presence. Just like Malfoy had explained, every conversation seemed fake as if they were all in a cinema, acting out their respected roles.

Malfoy continued to walked down Diagon Alley and quickly approached Knockturn Alley. Harry intuition told him this did not bode well.

As soon as they walked into the supposed territories of Knockturn Alley, the atmosphere changed drastically. It became noisier, raucously rude to any newcomers who may happened to stumble into this place. The stores looked, if possible, more shoddy and shady looking. The streets, though were impeccable, somehow looked filthy and slimy. The road became narrower; the buildings became taller and darker.

The people in this place did not help this impression. They were all dressed in various, strange looking clothing that did not look, in any way, ethnic or respectable. The people were similar to the men at Mirage except worse.

The farther Malfoy went, the worse it became. Pretty soon, there were many scantily clad people talking loudly. At this Harry looked at Malfoy questioningly. But Malfoy did not return his gaze and simply walked further.

Then it hit Harry. This was the red-light district. They were all prostitutes selling their bodies. Why the hell would Malfoy take him here?

Harry pretended to be servant and kept his mouth shut. The situation became simply from bad to worse. Several of the prostitutes looked emaciated, like they hadn't eaten for days, and yet they continue to flirt outrageously with an apathetic Malfoy, who did not even bat his eyes at their direction.

Soon, Malfoy's steps stopped in front of a starving-looking sandy haired boy, whose outfits were offensively conspicuous.

"Draco, nice to see you," the boy purred.

"Thomas," Malfoy nodded.

Dean Thomas? Harry could not help but gape at the image before. Dean looked like a shadow of his former self. Gone with his enthusiasm for muggle football and unrequited love of Ginny Weasley, he was filled with despair and yet continued to smile in what Harry surmise as seductive.

"You want some action?" Dean said casually, but those words pierced Harry. They were a reminder of how he, the Hero, had failed. Failed to kill Voldemort, failed to stop this madness.

"No, not really," Malfoy responded. Harry was glad that Malfoy was not going to get it on with Dean.

"Then why are you here?" Dean's smile faltered a bit.

"Can't I visit an old classmate?"

Something in Dean's demeanor changed, but it was gone as quickly as it came. The saccharine smile returned.

"So what can I do for you?"

"Just reminiscing about the good old days," Malfoy answered with a smirk.

Dean's body trembled, in either humiliation or anger, Harry was not sure.

"Do keep up the good job Thomas, you're improving the society." Malfoy's hands traced Dean's chest and all the way down to his hips.

Harry could tell Dean did not want Malfoy touching him from the flinches, but Dean did nothing to hinder Malfoy's wondering hands. Surreptitiously, Malfoy placed something gold and shiny into Dean's pocket next to his hip.

Dean gave Malfoy a look of surprise.

"See you around Thomas."

Malfoy quickly turned around and walked back to Leaky Cauldron, and Harry promptly followed.

When Harry stepped a foot inside the polished floor of Malfoy Manor (without tripping onto the floor), Malfoy opened the doors to a mahogany cabinet and threw a wand at Harry. Normally, Harry would be touched by this action and perhaps change his views of Malfoy, but this situation paralleled to that of Slughorn's pretend offer of assistance.

"Potter, I just gave you your wand, do you still have to look at me like I ate your pet?" Malfoy sneered.

"I still don't trust your motive," Harry replied equally vehemently.

Malfoy used his left hand to massage his temple.

"Did you not see Thomas whoring himself for food? Or perhaps you didn't see utter desolation of the Wizarding world?"

Harry thought about Malfoy's response. At first Harry was willing to believe that Malfoy's altruism had some veracity, however the way Malfoy had easily offered Harry's wand actually increased Harry's suspicion than the intended effect Malfoy wished to achieve. Harry knew that even if Malfoy was willing to help Harry in changing the Wizarding world, Malfoy would not allow Harry to access a wand; it was simply tactless. However, Harry realized that like his previous situations, he had absolutely no other choice but to simply follow what Fate had thrown at him.

"I saw, but it's just hard to see you in a different light Malfoy," Harry said cautiously. He knew offending Malfoy would be stupid, so he purposely played into Malfoy's hands and put up his guard. Harry knew he had to play Malfoy's game to bring himself closer to his goal. He had to do it to at least free Dean.

Malfoy seemed to believe Harry and nodded.

"So what plan do you have in mind to kill Death Eaters?" Harry asked.

"It's simple. I get you close enough to the Dark Lord. You kill him, then quickly kill his dogs, who, I assure you, will be standing close to him."

"When I kill Voldemort, wouldn't the Death Eater easily react and kill me instead?"

"Not if you poison them," Malfoy smirked.

Malfoy's smirks were starting to take a toll on Harry's sanity. It's simply annoying the hell out of him and Malfoy's answers were making no sense.

"Why don't we just kill them with poison in the first place?" Harry asked logically.

"Potter, stop being dumb. Firstly, you want to make the most extravagant killing spree so that nobody will oppose you. Second, you think they don't have detectors for poison? But, a simple Impediment Potion, which is quite harmless under normal circumstances, will pass the detectors easily. After you kill the Dark Lord, this potion will delay the reactions of Death Eaters, thus giving you easy access to kill them all." Malfoy had a gleeful look that gave Harry shudders.

"You obviously thought this through."

"I've been thinking about doing it myself, but I'll just get lynched afterwards," Malfoy said if he was reporting the weather. "Potter, before you set yourself up for this task, there are many things you have to get to. For one, you need to integrate yourself in pureblood society, via me. Then you have to better your dueling skills, you're horrid."

"I'm perfectly fine!"

"I remember dueling you in Second Year, if you didn't talk to snakes, I would have kicked your ass so hard that you couldn't walk straight for weeks, so I say you need to work on it." Malfoy was cleaning his fingernails of nonexistent dirt and refused to look Harry in the eye.

"Well, I remember dueling you in Sixth Year, and…" Harry faltered. He didn't really want to be reminded of that memory because the results were faults at Harry's part. He never intended to use a Dark Curse to hurt Malfoy. If Snape had not been conveniently passing by, then Malfoy may not be standing in front of him today.

At the thought of Snape, Harry clinched his fist. Harry sure hoped that Snape was one of the Death Eaters Harry had to kill.

Malfoy looked at him with a peculiar look. "What the hell's wrong with you Potter?"

"What happened to Snape?"

"Probably dead," Malfoy answered. The effect was instantaneous, Malfoy's face turned stoic and his reply was phlegmatic. It was Harry's turn for concern.

"He turned out to be a spy for Dumbledore."

"He killed Dumbledore!"

"Only upon Dumbledore's order. Don't ask me why Dumbledore wanted to off himself, but after the Dark Lord found out about Snape's loyalty, Snape has been on the top of the wanted list."

"If he's still on the wanted list, then that means no one has killed him yet," Harry reasoned. Snape, Harry knew, was in no way royal to Dumbledore. Why would anyone want to kill himself? Even if Dumbledore had been noble and self-sacrificing, Harry did not see the benefit of his death.

"I don't know. You can't survive long in the muggle world without an identity. Even if you find a suitable hiding place, it can't protect you. Snape probably altered his appearance and was killed by the muggles. After couple of months, spells and potions eventually ebb away so that any hiding wizards are found. That's why Mudbloods live in the Wizarding world or else they'd be killed if they disobey the rules."

"Which is?"

"All magical personnel has to stay within the jurisdiction of the Ministry or else they will be executed immediately."

Harry fused his eyebrows. This law made no sense whatsoever. How did Slughorn and Regulus Black remain in hiding? How was he able to stay so long hidden from the magical world? What about the Order members? Did this mean they are all subjected to this harsh world?

"What about Slughorn?" Harry asked, deliberately leaving the first name.

"Which one? Horace Slughorn gets his mouth dirtied everyday by kissing the feet of the Dark Lord. Hubert Slughorn is an outcast that hides in a pathetic muggle facility." Malfoy's attitude remained apathetic and Harry had no indication of what Malfoy felt toward this issue.

"Why is Hubert Slughorn allowed to live with muggles?"

"Slughorn's useless. He thinks he's hiding from the Ministry because of his relationship with Albus Dumbledore. But everyone knows that he's too much of a paranoid coward with no ambition and won't even kill an ant without thinking it could kill him."

Harry had to hold back a snicker at Malfoy's analysis of Slughorn. Though this thought amused Harry, he wondered if the Ministry knew of Harry's existence.

"Is the ministry in touch with Slughorn's activities?" Harry asked.

"Not anymore. He's not interesting anyways. He's friends with some old geezer Regulus Black. Since this Regulus Black is a direct descendant, Grimmauld Place belongs to him, so the Ministry really can't do anything to remove."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, but continued to question Malfoy so he could continue to blab on to sway Harry's specific questions.

"I thought Sirius Black was the direct descendant," Harry said absentmindedly. Harry didn't really care what happened to Grimmauld Place, as long as nobody knew about his existence other than Malfoy.

"What? So you can inherit Grimmauld Place," Malfoy asked with a look of annoyance. "Hate to break it to you Potter, but you don't own the world."

"It's a legitimate question, and I don't think I own the world." Harry decided to use their still existing enmity to make it look as if he was asking questions unrelated to his knowledge of the two elderly, eccentric people.

"Everyone thought Regulus Black died after the fall of Grindelwald, but he still lived. He's useless anyways. He's an invalid that could hardly make it out the doors of Grimmauld Place. He's worse off than Slughorn."

Harry found this bit of information particularly interesting. Slughorn was under the impression he was hiding from the Ministry, yet Regulus Black was somehow aware of the surveillance and feigned old-age.

Even though this information was intriguing, Harry had more pressing matter to ask.

"What about the Order?" He could not hide his anticipation of the answer and stood up from the couch and gave Malfoy his undivided attention.

Something in Malfoy's face soften, mellowing Malfoy's tone.

"Many of them killed. Those who are alive is probably working their asses off at some crap job, shouldn't you know this Potter?"

"What..what do you mean?" Harry asked.

"I mean, it's understandable that you don't know about the outside world, but you should at least know about the whereabouts of your buddies. Wait, don't tell me they're not the ones resurrected you!" Malfoy's face was completely engulfed by curiosity. Harry hesitated in answering Malfoy's question; he didn't want to reveal any information that could bring danger to him.

"I-uh"

Very articulate Potter, a little voice in Harry's head taunted.

"I thought you were just trying to act dumb the first time, pretending that you don't know anything about the Order when really you're the crucial part of it. I thought you were asking questions that the Order wanted to know about the current Ministry without revealing your relationship with them."

"If I am, why would I be at a muggle bar?" Harry asked, but soon realized that might evoke unwanted questions from Malfoy.

"I thought maybe the Order got captured and you escaped, like you always do. If this isn't the case, that means the precious Order thinks you're dead too." The gleeful look on Malfoy's face returned; Harry's guts twisted at the implication of those words.

"Well, well, Potter, looks like I got you all to myself. No matter, we'll succeed together. By the way, what exactly have you been doing the last three and half years?"

"I was in a coma."

"With amnesia as a result?"

Harry nodded unwillingly.

If possible, Malfoy looked even more ecstatic. Harry was really dreading what Malfoy was going to say. Harry knew Malfoy was going to take advantage of his vulnerability and attack him until he couldn't possibly tell the difference between left and right. He'd better be reincarnated into a king or something in the next life, because Buddha owed him one.

"It doesn't really matter, because we don't need the Order to implement our plans." Harry wanted to object that it wasn't really their plan, just Malfoy's stupid plan, but held his tongue.

"Potter, I have just the thing to get into the pureblood society undetected."

The happy air that Malfoy exuded was slowly stifling Harry to death. Harry wanted to close his eyes and run away (but he'd probably run into a wall on the way, so he didn't do this). Although Harry really did not want to know what was going on in the demented head of Draco Malfoy, Harry pressed the matter because it could determine the fate of the Wizarding world.

"Yes?"

"You're going to my whore."