A/N: All right, I know there's been a lot of confusion since I sort of killed Draco in the first chapter, but all will be explained in this one. And yes, of course this is a Harry/Draco fic. I think I'm physically incapable of writing anything else, lol. Adios!

-CatJetRat

Chapter 2

Recovery

Pre-HBP

Normal POV

The girl woke up again, having fallen asleep after laughing at Voldemort. She felt absolutely no further desire to stay in that room. She needed to see Harry. He probably thought she was dead, and she did not want him to think that for much longer. Calling upon all her strength, she magically summoned an object from her robes. She wasn't sure what had happened to her wand, but it didn't matter. Even being, literally, half-dead, she could still use wandless magic just as well as wand magic. The object she had brought out was a crystal. It was a beautiful thing really, and it was sort of cone-shaped. It hung off of a silver chain. It also happened to carry all of her magical energy. She had gotten it when she was eight, when her "parents" had finally seen fit to tell her who she really was. They had given her the crystal, telling her that her mother had wanted her to have it. She had already known who she was though, for the most part, but it had been nice of them to fill in some of the blanks for her.

Since she had gotten the crystal, she had begun filling it with all the energy she could. Every day she gave a bit of her magical energy to it. Not enough to make her weak, or anything, but a good amount. Over the years she had built up so much that she had enough energy to wake the dead and make them ten times as powerful as they had been before, at least. And that was just her own energy. She had gained energy from all the forces of the world. To get great wind power, she had let the crystal go in a tornado, and in ten seconds, it had drained all the power from the twister. She had done that several times. To get water power, she dropped it into the most magically powerful abyss in the world, which had willingly given the crystal all the energy it could hold. For earth power, she had buried it deeply in the most magical place on earth: Stonehenge. She left it there for three days, and when she came back it was almost bursting with earth energy.

Fire power, however, had been difficult. She could have either dropped it into a volcano, or sent it to the sun. Both of these had problems though. If she sent it to the sun, it would almost completely drain her of her magical energy, and it would take weeks in Stonehenge and the sea to completely restore it to her. However, if she put it in a volcano, she wasn't sure what would happen. The earth might suck the crystal up, and she wouldn't be able to find it, or it might make the volcano erupt, and the crystal could get stuck in the lava. However, she finally found a proper medium. She sent it to the sun, after spending several days saving up her energy.

While this was a great amount of energy, and most people couldn't take more than an eighth of its energy, she would need all of it to revive her. She was not like most people. Her original power had been unbelievably great, and she would need it all back for what she knew was ahead. Now that she had survived, she had passed one of her major tests, and it was coming down, all to the huge battle. She needed to be prepared.

The crystal glowed softly, lighting up her faded, tired eyes. She reached out and gently grasped it with her left hand. Energy began pouring into her, and she gasped, almost stopping. But she held on tightly. As she did so, and the magical energy flowed into her, something strange happened. Her skin became slightly tanned, fullness returned to her sunken cheeks, and they turned rosy. Her pale hair, graying even though she was only nineteen, changed to its original colour, light brown, but shining with hints of red and gold. It was rather thin, but extremely soft, and became full and luscious again. Her dull eyes began glowing, and colors started swirling in them. When the glowing finally stopped, her eyes were back to their original, shining color. The crystal was almost empty now, and she absorbed the last of its energy. It dropped from her fingers, a normal crystal now. She crouched there for a few minutes, letting all that magical force settle inside of her. Then her eyes shot open, and she picked the crystal back up and tied it around her neck. She stood up and looked around at her little prison. A smile crept over her face. Now she was ready. The door opened behind her, and she whipped around.

DH

Thud.

Draco's eyes flew open, and he stared anxiously up at the ceiling of his coffin. Dirt was being shoveled away from the top, and, a moment later, the coffin opened, and a hand was pulling him out. Draco took a couple of deep breaths, and turned to his savior.

"Took you long enough," he groused, stretching.

Minerva McGonagall glared at him. "I had to dig you out manually, or else the Ministry would have sensed the magic."

"Oh yeah," Draco mumbled despondently, memories coming back to him. Faking his own death had been one of the most difficult tasks in the world. He had to appear dead, to both the Ministry and Voldemort's forces. He and Professor McGonagall had spent most of the summer planning his death, preparing all the necessary spells in order to fool the Healers and Voldemort.

At the beginning of the summer, Draco had escaped from Severus Snape and Voldemort as well, and approached McGonagall with the hope that she would offer sanctuary. Fortunately for him, she, while furious that he had assisted in Dumbledore's death, was willing to provide him with a safe place to stay, provided that he gave her all the information he had, along with an Unbreakable Vow of loyalty to the Order of the Phoenix. He had agreed, and they planned his death, as Dumbledore had originally intended. His funeral was the same day they found him, as McGonagall wanted to get him buried and out as quickly as possible.

McGonagall had kept him a secret mostly from the Order, though she had told a few people, such as Alastor Moody, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, and Kingsley Shacklebolt. Their trust in him was almost nonexistent, considering what had recently happened with Snape, and Draco knew that it would take a great deal to gain even a minute amount of their trust.

Draco joined McGonagall in shoveling dirt back over his now closed coffin. An odd thing had happened to Draco over the summer. He began to see the world in a new light. Being terrified that he could be killed all last year had changed him, and the world seemed grimmer, scarier. Before, he'd had it so easy. The world might as well be his oyster. Now…Draco sighed and shoveled more dirt into his grave. Now he was dead to the world as well as his parents and Voldemort. Now he would be lucky to not end up as such.

Light drifted across his face and Draco looked up at the sky. The moon was rising, full and beautiful. Somewhere in the distance, a Muggle siren sounded.

"That's it." McGonagall was patting the earth with her shovel. She shifted it in her hand and gestured for Draco to follow her. "Come on, Mr. Malfoy. Let's go." She tapped his head with her wand, placing the Disillusionment Charm on him, and then walked towards her recently purchased Muggle car.

Draco followed her into the car, and she switched on the headlights. Draco stared blankly out the window as the dark streets whizzed by, and watched the moon climb steadily higher in the sky. A half hour later they reached London, and about ten minutes after that they parked in front of a driveway between house numbers 11 and 13. Draco got out of the car and McGonagall waved her wand, shrinking the car and sticking it in her pocket. As they walked closer to the house, a door appeared, number 12, Grimmauld Place. McGonagall opened the door and they slipped inside.

Draco murmured his thanks to the new headmistress and made to go up the stairs to his room. The house was entirely silent, as the Order members had figured out a way to destroy the screaming portrait of Mrs. Black, by containing a magical fire around her. Everything Dark in the house had been destroyed, and now, Light objects were beginning to clutter it up. Slowly but surely, the house was becoming warm and inviting. Draco entered his own room, which had a portrait of an often sneering, bodiless voice in it. He ignored the portrait as it clucked at his appearance and he pulled his formal robes off of his body. He wrapped a towel around his waist and walked into the bathroom. Though it was nearly two o'clock at night, he wasn't worried about waking anybody up. The house was deserted. McGonagall had been a bit concerned about leaving him alone, but Draco had assured her that he would be fine. As a matter of fact, he preferred it this way. Being an only child, he had spent most of his childhood alone. His parents had spoiled him rotten, but then had mostly let him be alone. His father spent most of his time wrapped up in politics, while his mother went to parties and enjoyed the more social side of politics. Not that he didn't love his parents, but he wasn't exactly close to them, and, by the time he was five, knew how to take care of himself. He could tolerate being around others, but, when it came right down to it, would prefer to be left alone.

Pre HBP

It was him. Of course it was him. She began calling up a spell in her mind, absently searching his mind before realizing that he had absolutely no plan to hurt her. She stopped trying to form the spell, but stayed quite wary of him. "Relax," he said smoothly. "I have no intention of hurting you. I just wanted to see how you're doing. I see you gained your magical strength back."

She nodded quickly. "Yes, I did. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go find Harry. He probably thinks I'm dead."

A strange smile began playing its way across Voldemort's face. "No, he doesn't."

She looked at him with faint interest now. "Oh really? Why not?"

"Because he doesn't think about you at all."

She felt slightly hurt by this, but was determined not to let it show. "Really? Why not?"

He smirked. "For the reason that he doesn't remember you at all."

She felt the blood in her veins freeze. In a flash she was in front of Lord Voldemort, her hands around his neck. "What did you do?" she snarled.

He grinned. "I didn't do anything. It was Dumbledore."

She released him, shock evident on her face. "What?" she asked weakly. "Dumbledore? Why on earth would he erase Harry's memory of me?"

"Not just Harry. Everyone. At least in London. I think everyone in America still remembers you."

"But why would he do that?"

Voldemort shrugged. "From what I gathered from my death eaters, it was because he did not want Harry to have to deal with your death. He thought it might make him go insane."

"So I die and he erases me?" She said quietly, still shocked, hurt, and confused. Then that all turned to anger. "How dare he?" she hissed. Though it might not have seemed like it, her behavior right then was quite strange. She was usually a very happy, cheerful being. Nonviolent, mostly. But almost dying had had a peculiar effect on her. She was now very violent, and the slightest thing could set her off. It was probably because she knew that now it was on, and she needed to be willing to be violent, and strong.

"I'll kill him," she hissed, sweeping past Voldemort.

"You are not going to get very far like that," Voldemort remarked lightly. She stiffened, and turned around.

"What do you mean, pray tell?" she said through gritted teeth.

"I mean that you are barely standing as it is."

She frowned, glancing down at her legs. Sure enough, they were quivering, and she strongly suspected that the only thing keeping her standing was magic, and that wouldn't last long. "I don't understand," she muttered, now examining her flimsy muscles, and flabby, fat stomach. "I'm now fully magical again. Why am I so fat and weak?"

"Two reasons," Voldemort said, coming up and standing behind her. She stood very tensely. "One, because you've spent the last two months in a comatose state, and all you did was consume food and not exercise. Two," he said, leaning down and whispering in her ear, "Because almost dying at the hands of the most powerful wizard in the word will also take a toll on your body as well as your magical abilities." With that, he licked her ear, and plunged his tongue into her ear, then trailed his tongue down to her neck and began sucking and biting at it, and was about to slip his arms around her waist, before her fist made contact with his face. She quickly cleaned all his saliva off of her ear and neck, and, after delivering a well-placed kick to his ribs, said, "The third most powerful. You wonder why I didn't actually die." She then turned around and walked out of the room, leaving Voldemort curled up on the floor behind her, clutching his stomach. She smiled coldly. Voldemort may have been right about her being in no shape to deal with Dumbledore now, but the second she was as powerful as she used to be, he would regret ever messing with Harry's memories. She smiled at this thought, and her cold emerald eyes flashed.

DH

Harry tugged his trunk down the stairs on August 30th, feeling rather disgruntled. Professor McGonagall had showed up at the Burrow early in the morning and had insisted that he come to Grimmauld place. There was something she needed to discuss with him. She told him she'd take him to King's Cross, but he needed to come before the holidays were up. Harry had fought with her bitterly about this; he had vowed to never come back to the place if he could help it, but she refused to listen to him. Ron and Hermione had insisted on coming with him, but McGonagall told them no, that she needed to talk to Harry alone.

It was almost noon and Harry's stomach was growling, but McGonagall told him he could eat when he got to the house. Downstairs, all the Weasleys were waiting for him. He had the pleasure of enduring a long, rib-cracking hug from Mrs. Weasley before he could say good bye to the rest of them. Charlie and Bill shook his hand, and the twins attempted to offer him some cheese, which he steadfastly refused. He hugged Ginny and she hugged back, and he felt a kind of warmth in his heart, glad that they could be just friends.

When he got to Ron and Hermione, both were looking rather rebellious. "We'll come with you if you want, Harry," Hermione said in a low voice.

"Yeah," Ron said quickly. "I'm sure we could hide under your invisibility cloak."

"No…it's fine," Harry said reluctantly, for he would have quite liked for them to come with him. "I don't want the two of you getting in trouble. And I'll tell you all about it afterwards."

They nodded and hugged him, and he walked out the door to the car McGonagall was waiting at. They got in and began the long drive to London.

A/N: I liked this chapter, though I noticed that the girl came off a bit cold. But don't worry. She's not really like that. She's just a little bit pissed, because she almost died, and found out Dumbledore erased everyone's memory of her, so she's not too happy. She'll be a bit happier later. She just needs some time. Next chapter: Harry sees that Draco isn't dead. Read and review, y'all! Adios!

-CatJetRat