DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.
Chapter One - Music in the Night
The haunting melody drew Draco slowly down one of the dark halls of the Manor. Each note was full and perfectly rounded, the slow lament beckoning him onward. Two weeks ago his father had left to visit one of the families older estates, returning several days later with a large trunk. Since that night, the same seductive dirge could be heard whispering quietly around Malfoy Manor. His mother had claimed it was his father but she had been lying and he knew it. Lucius Malfoy played the flute clinically, with no feeling or thought to the music. The individual who played at night was a maestro. Every song was played to its fullest, each note ringing perfectly. Tonight was his last night to find the mystery player. Tomorrow he would be on his way to Hogwarts for his sixth year.
Pausing outside a closed door, he pressed his ear to the wood and shut his eyes. His body tensed as the music trailed off, silence settling on the hall only to be broken moments later by a sorrowful tune. His hands tightened on the flute he held, fingers floating over the keys as he kept time with the mystery musician. Sighing, he glanced down the hall before placing his hand on the knob. The door popped open with a faint click, swinging inwards slowly.
Peeking his head around the door, he searched the room but found it devoid of human life. Frowning, he stepped backwards and began to pull the door closed when a note pierced the shadowed room. Glancing back and forth down the halls, he slipped into the room and closed the door lightly. Blue eyes darted around the small room, taking in the Ever-Lasting candles glowing on a high table and the empty portrait hanging in the center of the left wall. The soft whisper of the flute called him onward, forcing his leaden feet to move towards the white sheet draped over the second wall. His fingers clenched on the cloth. Taking a deep breath, he tugged lightly. The fabric slid slowly down the wall, pooling at his feet.
A large portrait hung on the wall, it's gilded frame covered in centuries worth of dust. In the background, a dark sea tossed and churned. Waves rolling forward wearing white caps under a charcoal sky. In the center, a lone figure stood. The wind grabbed and tore at the black cloak she wore, leaving her mass of dark hair in tangles. In her hands she held a flute, the instrument singing sweetly as she played. He realized he'd been holding his breath and dragged air into his burning lungs, panting as the witch played on.
"Who are you?" Draco whispered, one hand smoothing the air above the picture. The raven haired witch continued to play the sorrowful melody, tears running down her cheeks. As if hearing him, she stopped playing, the last note reverberating around the room. Her eyes slid open slowly, ethereal emeralds glimmering as she stared at him. He shuddered when she frowned and tipped her head, flute slowly moving away from her mouth.
Frowning, the witch resumed her posture and played several notes, keen eyes watching him. Draco considered her before raising his own flute, carefully answering the challenge. His blond hair glowed golden in the candlelight as he played each note carefully. Offering him a sweet smile, she raised a hand and directed his attention to the object resting on the table.
Blinking, he swirled around and approached the table cautiously. Glancing over his shoulder, Draco pondered the familiar looking witch. Shaking his head at his confusion over her resemblance to Potter, he turned his attention to the object resting on the shadowed table. His hands slid over the long box. The wood was a bright cherry red traced through with dark lines. Engraved in the top was a dragon, it's twinkling eye crafted of sapphire. He glanced over his shoulder at the dark haired witch, feeling her eyes burning into his back.
Chewing his lip in thought, he flipped the clasps and opened the long box. Resting on a bed of burgundy was a silver flute. Draco set his own flute down on the table and reached inside the case, his fingers gliding lovingly over the cool metal. The silver was traced with small images, dragons rearing and roaring in battle. A tingle ran through the pale digits as they stroked the keys, hand jerking out of the box in response.
Looking again at the witch on the wall, he quirked one eyebrow. The witch remained quiet in her portrait, no longer paying him any attention. Her gaze was focused on the sea behind her, hands clenched in the folds of the gown she wore. The flute she had played was gone, no longer held carefully in her golden hands. Eyebrows drawn down, he lifted the instrument from its bed. Under the candles it glittered and shone, seducing him.
Glancing at the empty portrait on the other wall, he considered the instrument he held. No one would notice if he took it. His own flute was strangely similar. As if it had been copied from the instrument he now held. He narrowed his eyes when something flickered just below the mouthpiece. A twining D intertwined with an M. How utterly perfect he thought as he juggled the instruments, lying his own in the case.
Cradling the dragon flute in his hand, he closed the lid and moved to replace the curtain over the painting of the witch. Draco found his eyes captured and arrested by the startling green gaze once again. The witch watched him approach, a smile playing on her face as he scooped the white fabric up. With his eyes inches from those glowing orbs, he watched her lips move silently. Tensing, he tucked the cloth over the picture and stumbled away. Fleeing the room quietly, he heard the first strains of the flute rise again in the darkness of the manor.
The Burrow was a busy place at seven o'clock in the morning. Far to busy as far as Harry was concerned. Groaning, he settled his head onto his folded arms and closed his eyes. Around him, the bustle and chaos of the Weasleys kitchen carried on. Molly was cooking furiously as she asked her children question after question, ignoring the rolling eyes and flippant remarks.
Popping one eye open as the smell of bacon reached his nose, he considered the loaded plate resting just beyond his head. Moaning as his stomach growled, he sat up and rubbed a hand over his eyes. A fork appeared in his hand and he obligingly shoved it into the mountain of scrambled eggs.
"How is it, Harry?" Molly asked, wiping her hands on her apron as she glanced at the crowded table. With everyone contentedly eating, there was finally some peace in the little house.
Nodding, he finished his mouthful and reached for his glass of apple juice. "As good as always, Mrs. Weasley." He replied, grinning as Ron and Ginny both rolled their eyes at his polite response. Hermione smiled in agreement, bobbing her head as she nibbled delicately on a piece of bacon.
"Good. Now Arthur will be taking you all to King's Cross as soon as you're finished so I hope you all finished packing last night." The red haired woman reminded them, turning around and waving her wand to begin cleaning the kitchen. Humming under her breath, she swept from the room.
Seeing his mother leave, Ron snagged several more sausages from the dish in the center of the table and drenched them in syrup. "I can't believe it's time to go back already." He grumbled, practically drooling as he stabbed one of the dripping sausages.
"You finished packing, right Ron?" Hermione asked, lifting her napkin from her lap and setting it next to the plate as she rose. She raised an eyebrow at the redhead as his face flushed and he jerked his gaze away from hers. "I can't believe you didn't finish packing." She huffed, shaking her head in exasperation.
Harry sniggered at Ron's embarrassment, ignoring the sideways glare and the elbow digging into his side. Standing, he carried his plate to the sink and rinsed it off before turning and leaning against the counter. "Why does that surprise you, Hermione? You know you watched both of us unpack when we first arrived at Hogwarts last year." Harry reminded the bushy haired girl with a grin, winking at Ron.
Laughing, Hermione reached out and ruffled his already mussed hair. "Neither of you unpacked. You lived out of your trunks for the first three weeks. The only reason your trunk ever got emptied was because Dobby kept hanging all of your clean clothes up in the wardrobe."
Ron grinned and puffed his chest out. "We man," he grunted, slapping himself on the chest. Harry and him both dissolved into laughter at the disgusted looks on Hermione and Ginny's faces. Still shaking with laughter, Harry turned at the light clatter against the window above the sink. A brown owl sat on the sill, wings folded and letter clutched in its beak. Reaching up, he unhooked the window latch and let the bird flutter into the kitchen. Depositing the creamy envelope atop the stack of pancakes, the owl hooted and flew gracefully out the window in a whisper of wings.
"It's for you, Harry." Ginny said loudly, offering the letter to the raven-haired wizard. Nodding his thanks, Harry tucked the paper under his arm as he carefully fastened the window latch, assuring it was well locked before finally glancing at it.
Hermione peeked over his shoulder as he sat back down at the table, resting one hand on the back of the chair. "Gringotts." She murmured, stabbing the seal with a nail painted pale blue. Frowning in confusion, he slid a finger under the seal and popped it open. Shaking the folded paper out, he flipped it open and scanned its contents. Seeing the curious looks Ron and Ginny were wearing, he reconsidered and read it out loud.
Dear Mr. Potter,
Earlier this week while cleaning and remodeling an older section of the underground vaults, a discovery was made. Several vaults previously believed destroyed due to tunnel collapse several centuries ago were uncovered. Among them was a vault belonging to someone of Potter lineage. While the records of the vault's original owner have been lost, a quick check has shown that the contents remain relatively unharmed. As the last member of the Potter family, the contents fall into your ownership. The vault has been secured for now but we kindly ask that you advise us on what you would like done with the contents. We await your decision and have included a list of the vaults contents so you may better determine what you would like done.
Sincerely,
Gristle Gundrage,
Secretary of Gringotts
Harry handed the letter off to Hermione, knowing she'd want to reread it just for verification. Laying the other piece of parchment on the table, he allowed his eyes to travel down the short list.
Contents of Vault 235
One Cherry wood long bow strung with Griffin tendon
Two Dozen Arrows crafted of Ash, feathered by Ravens (all bearing the symbol of a dragon)
One Blood -Sealed trunk
One Blood-Sealed journal
Five daggers crafted of Cold Iron
Fourteen Portraits of Dragons
One black leather saddle and matching bridle
The Deed to Shirestra Castle
2400 Galleons
"Fourteen portraits of dragons?" Ron repeated with a raised eyebrow, leaning across the table and reading the list upside down. "Someone has a dangerous obsession."
Hermione cuffed the redhead lightly on the back of the head, folding the first letter and setting it next to the discarded envelope. "Imagine the history contained within that vault." She breathed, eyes glowing brightly in thought. "Lost for centuries and only just recovered."
Ginny nodded in agreement, wrapping her fingers around her glass of orange juice. "And the fact that you don't know who the original vault owner was. Witch or wizard? A scholar or a joker?" She murmured in thought, blushing when Harry raised an eyebrow and looked at her curiously.
"Ginny is right, Harry." Hermione said, straightening and walking around the table to stand behind Ron. "This could be the chance for you to learn something about your father's family."
Harry sighed and settled back into his chair, carefully sliding the list and the letter back into the envelope. Fiddling with the butter knife resting near his fingers, he ran his other hand across his scar in thought. "What does 'blood-sealed' mean?" He questioned softly, raising his gaze and glancing at Ron for an explanation.
"Blood, mate. It's like a password but better." Ron responded, folding his arms on the table. The sudden chiming of a clock had all four holding their breath as they counted each resonating dong. Exchanging horrified looks, they all pushed away from the table and raced to their rooms to do last minute packing. The letter was jammed carelessly into Harry's pocket as he grabbed drank the rest of his juice before racing up the stairs.
XxXxX
The Hogwarts Express rumbled down the tracks as rain plinked softly against the compartment windows. Yawning, Harry glanced across the small room at Ron and smiled. The redhead was sleeping with his face resting against the window, snoring quietly and mumbling under his breath every now and then. Pulling the crumpled parchment from his pocket, he sighed and tried to smooth it out.
"You're afraid, aren't you?" Hermione whispered, lying her book in her lap and staring unblinkingly at him. At his miserable nod, she shook her head and frowned. "Just because it was placed under blood-seal doesn't mean it's bad or evil. It just means that someone valued their privacy."
"I can't help but remember second year." Harry whispered, shooting the slumbering Ron a quick look. "What if I get this journal and it turns out to be a terrible repeat of Tom?"
Hermione offered him a wistful smile. Standing, she pulled her Hogwarts cloak on and ran a finger over the shining P glinting on the lapel. "You have just been given the chance to learn something about at least one member of your extended family. Who knows what mysteries that book holds. Just think about it, Harry." Smiling, she gave Ron quick peck on the cheek and patted Harry's knee as she left the private compartment.
Harry chewed his lip as he considered her words. He was truly curious and the chance to learn something about the Potter side of his family was a dream come true. Sighing, he shot a quick prayer up at the ceiling and rifled through his bag for a quill and some parchment. Writing quickly, he folded the letter and woke Hedwig. Hooting softly, the white owl accepted the letter and allowed him to toss her out the window.
Watching the bird climb into the sky bearing his decision, he smiled and rose. Straightening his clothes, he stretched before sliding the thin door open and stepping into the hall. Closing it softly, he looked back in and made sure Ron was still sleeping peacefully. Shaking his head in amusement, he walked down the small corridor in the direction of the bathroom.
The sudden tremble of the train had him stumbling and falling into someone emerging from one of the compartments. Apologizing profusely, he grabbed the individual's shoulders to help them regain balance and found himself staring into a pair of seething eyes.
"Watch it, Potter." Draco snarled, shoving recklessly past the Gryffindor. Harry winced as something sharp slammed into his hip as the blond trucked past. Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he rubbed the injured area and stared at the long wooden box the blond was bearing.
"Mind yourself, Malfoy!" He bellowed, curling a lip as the Slytherin waved a hand over his shoulder in disregard. Muttering under his breath, Harry continued his trip and went to the bathroom. On his way back he stumbled into Dean and Seamus and joined them and several others in a game of Exploding Snap.
The sudden roar of the train's whistle had everyone scrambling to pack up their stuff as they neared the station. Calling goodbyes, Harry had to push against the flow to get back to his own compartment where a sulking Ron greeted him. Collecting their stuff and Hermione's, the pair climbed off the train and looked in the direction of the glowing castle. Their sixth year had just begun.
A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read review. Everyone's thoughts and opinions are highly valued as I begin this fic with some trepidation.
NinjaoftheDarkess - Yes, it will eventually be slash, Draco/Harry as always.
Moonlit Eyes - lol, I had to use oc's to establish the history or this fic would have been too confusing. You won't see any other new characters, except a DADA prof and the dragons.
fourth-face-of-the-goddess - lol, Reginald's actions will be explained over the length of this fic, right now just remember Harry and Draco don't know anything about either Raveana or Reginald.
Queen Caira - Friends and allies always
Iredesent - The green eyes shall eventually be explained. lol, I'm always writing, right now I'm juggling three fics - not including Dying Flames.
Lady Silverhawk - Right Now! This fic will be updated hopefully every Friday following my normal posting schedule.
Sapphirephoenix - Raveana Potter, as I'll call her for now, was Harry's anscestor. She was protecting the dragons from Reginald Malfoy.