A/N: I am sorry for the gargantuan delay in writing this. Unfortunately, my work schedule got crazy toward the end of the summer and I had personal stuff to deal with afterward. That said, I am back and I promise you will NEVER see a gap in publishing like that again. Anyway, here's the second half to the super-long fifth chapter here. As I said, by the end of this chapter, business was going to pick up. And here it is. This plot is really going to get going from here!

Harry was sitting in the auror department at the Ministry of Magic and was finishing the last of his day's paperwork. He had worked through lunch in order to finish early as he planned to pay a visit to the Malfoys before his normal shift time ended. It would be his first chance to personally check on their status since returning from his mission in Wales.

"Harry, do you have a moment?"

It was Kingsley Shacklebolt, the new Minister of Magic. He had taken over as leader after the war ended. The two knew each other well from their time in the Order of the Phoenix, where Kingsley had been one of the people responsible for protecting him after Voldemort regained his body.

"Of course. Please come in."

Kingsley made a gesture toward the chair. Harry nodded, and the minister took a seat.

"If I'm not mistaken, you were planning on visiting the Malfoy family today. Am I correct?"

"Yes, I was. I'm actually about to leave. Why do you ask?"

"Well, while you've been gone I have tried seeing if they knew anything else regarding the disappearances. I haven't been able to get anywhere. I even had legilimency used once to see if they might be hiding something. There probably isn't anything else, but I'd like you to try talking to Draco one more time. You spent seven years with him and I think you may be able to draw out something we're not thinking of."

"I don't think I'll do any better than you. I really don't know Draco all that well," Harry said. It really wasn't a lie. In spite of their history, Harry had really only scratched the surface of who Draco, or any of the Malfoys for that matter, was.

"In any case, you offer a unique perspective as someone who went to school at the same time as him. You have shared experiences that you may be able to make inferences that we wouldn't think of."

"There isn't much I can think of, but I'll try."

And with that, Harry apparated to the shack where the Malfoys were hidden.


The Malfoy shack was covered in so many charms from the Ministry of Magic that it was all but impossible to reach them without the help of the Secret Keeper. The family's wands had been confiscated and they were so far out that no one would think to search for them in this area.

This allowed the family occasional supervised trips to the muggle village down the road, but even so, the accommodations the Malfoys currently held were a far cry from the mansion they one lived in. What's more, having to resort to muggle supplies and dealing with the non-magical community may as well have been a slap to the face of such notable blood purists.

As Harry walked in, he couldn't help but remember the charmed tent that he, Ron and Hermione shared during what would have been his seventh year. While this one had rooms and some semblance of bedroom separation, it only really looked slightly better than where he had stayed.

"Hello, Mrs. Malfoy. Mr. Malfoy. How are things here?"

"How do you think it's going Potter. These arrangements are far beneath the standards befitting such a long-standing pureblood family," Narcissa Malfoy said.

"Well it's the best we can do under the circumstances. Any word come to you about the Death Eater's movements since I've been gone?"

"Nothing, though I'm sure someone of your stature would have been told immediately if there was," Lucius said, well aware of the irony of this situation and how the tables have turned so much in his life.

It was clear the Malfoy family still hadn't warmed up to him. Harry could feel the tension every time he entered the shack.

"Have you noticed anything that would indicate that the enchantments aren't working on the house?"

"No."

"And your rations are sufficient?"

"Sufficient enough for a common muggle."

"You are aware that making statements like that are a major reason why you're here, right?"

"We are here because we ay be targeted after I so kindly let the Dark Lord think you had died," Narcissa cut in.

"Look, let's not waste time on this. I'd like to speak with Draco while I'm here as well."

"He's in his room, or what constitutes a room here. What do you need him for?" Lucius asked.

"Ministry business," and with that Harry walked to Draco's room before any more exchanges could be had.

"Draco?" he called as he peered through the area where a door should be. The only thing present was a thin plastic sheet that could be pinned up or dropped down in case they needed to block out the sound and allow Draco some semblance of privacy. Unfortunately, the building was very old and the doors were long gone before the Ministry commandeered the place.

"I'm here."

Draco was lying face-up on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The room had a light green paint job and a bed just long and wide enough for him to fit on. There was also a wooden desk that didn't look like it had been used much in the corner of the room. It looked like all of Draco's possessions that he had with him were in the closet, so the room itself felt very empty. These factors made the feeling of tension inside the house amplify dramatically, as Draco started to speak again.

"The door wasn't closed all the way, as you could probably tell. I heard your questions from here so I'll save you time. No, none of us have heard anything from the Death Eaters."

"I figured, but Kingsley wanted –"

"Oh, so you're taking requests now!" Draco's voice was raised and Harry could hear the venom in his tone. After a step back, he waved his wand and cast a 'muffliato' incantation on the room.

"Just because I helped keep you three out of Azkaban does not mean I will tolerate you giving me hell every time I'm here," Harry said.

"Oh yes, you are SO noble for helping us. You felt bad that the people who saved your arse might have had to have a go in Azkaban. I didn't ask for your pity."

"You know, I deal with this every time I come by, and after nearly a year of it, I'm done waiting for you to grow up. WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?"

"What's MY problem? My problem is where I am in life. Where my family is! Do you know what it's like to live like this?

"ARE YOU SERIOUS?! I lived like this for a bloody YEAR! I spend my childhood in a terrible household and spent a few years in a closet! I know what terrible living arrangements are and –"

"THAT'S NOT WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!" Draco was standing now with a vein popping out the side of his head. He was staring Harry dead in the face.

There was a long pause between the two before Draco spoke again.

"For nearly 16 years of my life, my life was full of high expectations. I was in a high-class pureblood family with connections to give me a great life. Call Slytherin what you want, but it is a house of ambition! And my house respected me.

"And then, in the last two years of my time at Hogwarts, I thought I had a calling doing work for You-Know-Who, but he used me. He used my family! But at least we were alive and had each other. But then you saved me, and my mum saved you.

"Do you know what it's like… to have nothing? No one in my old house would show me respect anymore. The Death Eaters probably want us dead. And the only reason we're not wandering aimlessly or in another country is because you felt sorry for us and convinced the ministry that we could be important."

"That's not why I …"

"YES IT IS!" Draco was letting years of frustration out all at once and he was starting to become overcome by emotion. His eyes were welling up with tears, but he was clearly fighting them back at this point.

"Whatever you want to call it, pity or payback or whatever, the point is that I've been left with nothing. I won't be allowed anywhere near high positions in the Ministry and I don't even have a wand now. I'm stuck in a muggle village and have been forced to live without magic!"

Harry looked at him with a small grain of understanding now. Draco had spent his whole life pressured to do great things and now everything he ever wanted out of life seemed out of reach.

"I know it's been a big change, and things weren't great toward the end of the war, but the Ministry won't hold you all without magic forever and we'll get the Death Eaters soon. Just be glad you have your family."

"I am glad! But it took you all four years to finish the Dark Lord and you had Dumbledore and a bunch of powerful wizards alive at the time. You don't even know who is leading them. So don't try to promise me anything. Just get out now."

By this point, Draco had his back turned to Harry. What little control of his emotions he had was about to be lost and he did not want to face him anymore. Harry sensed that this conversation had gone about as far as it was going to go, and began to make a move to leave.

As he walked to the door to leave the shack, he took one last look around the place. From this angle, the portion of Draco's room with the furniture was not able to be seen, so he couldn't see if Draco's emotions had finally gotten the better of him. To his left, he could see the kitchenette. Lucius and Narcissa seemed to be actively pretending that they didn't see him so that they wouldn't have to talk any further. One thing was for sure, and that was that the loss of everything had done two things. It had reunited the Malfoys as a family, but it mostly did so in mourning over what they had now lost.

Harry understood people frustrated that they had nothing, but Harry had never been in a position where he ever lost so much about what made him who he was. There wasn't anything left to say, and so he exited the house and disapparated to a place where he could be alone and think.


After he sent a patronus to Kingsley, informing him of his progress, or lack thereof, with the Malfoys, Harry entered the grave sites at Godric's Hollow. He was once again staring down the graves of his parents.

Harry wanted a chance to think, and being in front of the graves of James and Lily Potter always put things in perspective for him. He thought of Sirius, his godfather, who died fighting the Death Eaters and protecting him.

He thought of Remus and Tonks, who died in the final battle at Hogwarts and left behind a his godson, Teddy. He thought of Fred, who left behind the entire Weasley family and left them grieving. He thought of Dumbledore, whose plans were cold and cryptic, but nonetheless worked and gave him a chance to live.

And he thought of Severus Snape, a man he spent years hating and thinking was evil. It wasn't until his dying day that he knew how much Snape had helped him. At times, Harry wondered what he would have said had Snape survived. Was he helping simply because he was in love with his mother, or did he ever gain a moral desire to defeat Voldemort? Could the two look upon each other with respect?

Unfortunately, that was not a possibility. Though he had fought to get Snape's headmaster portrait posted in Hogwarts, the portrait only spoke once, and that was to assure everyone that the portrait was working properly and more charms weren't necessary. It was true to Snape in every way, and he had no desire to talk to Harry or anyone.

"Hey mum, hey dad. It's been a rough few weeks. The Death Eaters have continued to hide and I have no idea what their plan is. Weeks in Wales didn't turn up anything and the Malfoys… well, they're not exactly happy with me or anything right now.

"Visiting them was helpful, though. Draco said I don't even know who is leading the Death Eaters this time, and that scares me. I could always tell where Voldemort was, but I have no idea how far or close they are anymore."

"Oh, I think you can safely say they're closer than you realized, Harry Potter," a hissing voice said.

Harry's spine shook and his blood ran cold. There was no way he heard what he heard correctly. No, my scar would have sensed him. He can't be alive.

But as he looked up ever so slowly, sure enough, he saw him. A mere 20 feet away were a pair of piercing red eyes. He knew immediately who he was facing, and he knew that he was about to be in for the fight of his life.

Even though there was no way it should be possible, Harry was about to match up again with Lord Voldemort.