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Chapter 4 - The Nature of Fate
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The door led them into a large chamber filled with potions and herbs and chemicals. Harry suppressed the urge to cringe. This was worse than Snape's classroom.

"What do you want, Pye?" Harry demanded impatiently.

The magic in there was thick, so thick that it made Harry nauseous. He only hoped Goyle would be able to unravel the magic before they made an escape, which he had a feeling they would have to.

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Harry pretended he didn't see Pye grin maliciously and continued speaking, "So what is it?"

Pye's grin widened. "It's rather simple, you see," he said gleefully. "I expect you know about potions."

Harry felt a chill down his neck. "Of course I know," Harry snapped, I'm only the worst potion maker in my year, 'side Neville, is all. "Is that it? Making potion? Is that the grand and brilliant game you've come up with?" Harry sneered, desperately trying to recall all his learning from the seven years in Hogwarts and then the three years afterward helping out with the med-wizards during the war.

"But here's a twist, Mr. Potter," Pye said politely. "I'll give you the ingredients, which when used correctly will result in a certain potion." Pye snapped his fingers. An automatic table rose from under the floor, its surface covered with items necessary for potion making. "But," Pye paused dramatically. Harry had never known controlling his urge to strangle someone was so difficult. "I added a few arbitrary items in this list of ingredients. If you accidentally use a wrong one, your concoction may result in... certain fatalities."

Harry glanced at the table. "The ingredients aren't labeled."

Pye's eyes twinkled viciously. "That's the whole point, isn't it?"

Crabbe growled menacingly. Harry could almost feel his killing intention. Not yet, Harry thought, I haven't made him suffer for what he'd done to Draco.

"And what will you do, Mr. Pye? Surely not stand there and watch?"

Pye shrugged nonchalantly. "You can do the same to me, of course. Pick out anything from this room, and I'll make a potion out of your choosing." Pye smiled sweetly. "Of course, none of them are labeled, so we're on equal standing."

No, we're not, you sly cunt. Harry could see the unfair advantage Pye held. If he had been in any other situation, he would have just killed the other. But this was not just any situation. He did not know what would happen in this thick magical aura if he made a sudden move. Moreover, Draco was here. Harry didn't want him hurt.

"Fine," Harry said finally and nodded to Goyle. The man grunted and moved about the room, picking out bottles and herbs. Finally he set them on the other table, where Pye was standing behind.

Harry glanced at him, then back at his own ingredients. "Let's begin, then."

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Draco gripped the hem of his shirt tightly, eyes falling on Harry. This situation made Draco feel very uneasy. It felt like a déjà vu, but he didn't know why. His mind was screaming in protest at Harry jumping into a risky and unfair game, but at the same time, he didn't dare speak up. There was a million dollars at stake, and he had no right to interfere with Harry's business... whatever that was.

If Harry knew what Draco was thinking, he would probably bang his head against the wall in exasperation. The blond couldn't be any more clueless, if he thought Harry was risking his life for money.

But back then, Draco wasn't clueless. He may have been spoiled, selfish, mean spirit, but he was sharp. He was clever.

The Draco now gave off an air of a lost little puppy, confused and timorous, easily controlled and manipulated.

Like what Pye had done to him for years. Like what Pye was trying to do now.

Harry wouldn't stand for it. He and Draco may have been rivals, but he'd be damned if he let the blond slip away from his fingers this time.

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Time ticked by. The air in the room felt stuffy. Harry pulled at the collar of his shirt and loosened his tie. His hair was messier than before, his face was flushed, his expression intense. Draco watched him work and sweated nervously.

Even Pye, by this point, was looking very strained and flustered. Their potions were beginning to bubble.

Goyle, as expected of him, was quietly unweaving the threads of magic in this room. It was difficult. He hadn't seen security magic this complex since the war.

Crabbe, on the other hand, was standing closely behind Draco. He had a bad feeling. And bad feelings in this sort of circumstances always turned out to be a forewarning for future misfortune. In his case, at least.

Crabbe, as a sensible (or as sensible as a man who thought with his fists could be) person, had no worries that Harry would win. Harry always won. He knew his boss. The years spent covering his back as they climbed through the shady business had taught him that Harry would never do anything unless he was absolutely sure the outcome was favorable to him.

And if the outcome wasn't favorable, Crabbe thought with a quiet smirk, then it was just a bonus that Harry was incredible at using underhand tactics to achieve his end.

Distracted from his thoughts for a second, Crabbe suddenly noticed Draco's flushed face. He frowned. It was true the room was oddly warm and stifling, but the rouge on Draco's cheeks was unnaturally deep red. In fact, it looked more like ...

Draco tipped backward, his legs giving out underneath him. Crabbe quickly caught him, mildly surprised at how light Draco was.

That fact was quickly pushed away by a more pressing matter, as Crabbe was now convinced that Draco was burning up with a fever.

Shit, he cursed silently. He couldn't disturb Harry now, as his potion was going into its last stages. Crabbe knew nothing about potion, having failed it every single year at Hogwarts, but he knew that with that many ingredients, this must be one of those advanced potions, indeed.

It appeared that the others hadn't noticed the state Draco was in, as Harry and Pye were intent in their ministrations and Goyle was still focusing on taking apart the magic in the room.

Crabbe admitted he had been in many disconcerting situations in the past, but this one definitely fell under the worst of all.

Because he had no fucking clue of what to do.

"Harry," Draco murmured, his voice barely heard.

Crabbe stared down at him, and awkwardly wiped his damped hair out of his eyes. "What?"

"The potion," Draco breathed. "I know it."

Crabbe's heart slammed against his chest. What does Draco mean?

"Tell Harry," Draco said feebly, grasping onto Crabbe's suit. "The ingredients..."

"What about them?" Crabbe urged, noticing out the corner of his eye that Harry had just poured a whole vial of some sort of red liquid into the smoking cauldron. The potion gave a small explosive sound.

Draco shook his head, trying to push himself up. "It's a trap. Harry..."

There were five different items that Harry hadn't used yet. Crabbe narrowed his eyes. Newt's eyes, probably, a bowl of blue powder, salamander's scales (Or is it fish's?Crabbe wondered), a vial of clear liquid, and the last ingredient, looked like a mandrake's root.

"He's missing one important element to the potion," Draco rasped out. "It wasn't given to him."

Crabbe's eyes widened. He could see Pye from where he was, smirking triumphantly as Harry picked up another item and was ready to drop it into his concoction.

"Stop... him, Vincent." The words fell out of Draco's mouth softly before the boy closed his eyes.

Crabbe stared at him, bewildered. Did Draco just call him...?

Pye grinned, eyes bright with victory and gleefulness as Harry let go of the mandrake's root. Crabbe, at this moment, noticed and knew that it was too late.

Shit!

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Hogwarts... the dungeon...

Snape's hands trembled as he held the frayed paper in his hand, his own desk scattered with documents of similar content.

The information was incredible. Snape knew he was one of the best potion masters in Europe, a man who understood Muggle's derivations of chemistry just as well as he understood the magical properties of it, but to think, Pye, a boy who barely reached his mid-twenties, could be able to come up with this.

It was revolutionary. Or at least, to the Muggle world it was. In magic, there wasn't much that couldn't be accomplished.

Snape quickly gathered all the papers into a neat pile and slid them into a large envelop. He must report this to the Minister of Magic immediately. Pye's institute was, apparently, a partially government funded organization, which meant nothing good when it came to this kind of research. If they succeeded, and from the look of things Snape suspected they would, then the world was going to be changed, drastically.

Robes swishing as he moved toward the fireplace, Snape was halted in his haste when a piece of paper fell to the ground. Frowning Snape bent to pick it up, faintly noticing that it was part of the documents he'd found.

Quickly skimming over the page, Snape's curiosity quickly turned into one of shock.

"Oh hell," he muttered. "Why the fuck does everything have to do with Harry bloody Potter?"

With one swift motion Snape threw the powder into the fireplace, watching as the flames burst forth, spitting green sparks.

After stepping into the fire, Snape said, his voice clear and loud, "Godric's Hollow, Harry Potter's Residence!"

And in just barely a moment, he was gone.

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The room was eerily silent.

It was getting very hard to breathe. Everyone was standing very still, all eyes fixed on Harry's cauldron.

"No," Pye murmured, eyes dilated as if in shocked. "It can't be..."

Harry's eyes were cold. "What do you mean, it can't be? It seems perfectly clear to me, Pye."

Pye raised his head, and met Harry's eyes. "What?"

"You set this up, knowing that I'd lose," Harry sneered. "This was no fair game. The potion you got me to make was an actually an antidote, except you took out one important ingredient, didn't you?"

Pye turned angry, all his composure from before lost to raw shock. "You, you cheated!"

Harry smirked. "A dog's whining now that he's lost?" he mocked, before giving him a nasty look. "You know as well as I do that without the last ingredient, the antidote would induce a poisonous aroma that would automatically kill the maker, didn't you?"

Pye didn't even bat an eye. "Of course I knew!" he hissed. "I was the one who sorted the ingredients. But our contract is over, Potter, you've cheated your way to victory!"

Harry laughed. A bitter, harsh laugh. "You can't break a contract between wizards. But that's not what you're supposed to be worrying about now, is it?"

"What are you talking about?"

"When you set me up like that, it's only fair that I did the same to you," Harry replied, eyes glinting viciously.

Pye looked as if Harry had physically slapped him across the face. "Bullocks! I made the elixir to induce euphoria perfectly!"

Harry grinned. "Elixir to induce euphoria? What you were supposed to make was a Felix Felicis."

Pye stumbled backward, looking as Harry as if he'd just seen him for the first time. No, it's not possible. To make a Felix Felicis, I'll need six months before adding the final...

Horrified, Pye now stared down at his cauldron, with the brown liquid bubbling and threatening to spill over.

"Considering what an amazing potion maker you are, Pye, I'm sure there's no need for me to explain what'll happen if you fail to make a Felix Felicis correctly," Harry said triumphantly, before turning to Draco.

All the colors drained from his face.

"Draco!"

Crabbe was pushed violently aside as Harry rushed over and pulled Draco into his arms. The blond felt like he was burning up. Oh fuck, how on earth could I not notice it? Harry thought, feeling stupid.

"What the hell happened?" Harry snapped at Crabbe, who was still surprised at what Draco had said before he passed out.

"I don't know. He suddenly fainted," Crabbe stammered.

"Boss!" Goyle said sharply, noticing that Pye was subtly trying to escape through a door that had been hidden by a sliding bookshelf.

Harry turned around. Pye was smiling. "Good luck, Potter. I'll give Draco to you, and the hundred million as promised, but rest assured, this is not over yet."

And he disappeared, his laugher ringing high in the room.

"The potion is spreading, boss," Goyle said urgently, eyes on the messed up Felix Felicis, which was quickly spilling and consuming the floor. It gave off a foul, sharp odor that made them feel dizzy.

"Let's get out of here," Harry said, cradling Draco in his arms. "Goyle, did you finish taking apart the magic here?"

Goyle nodded.

"Good, then let's go," Harry said, and with a grim look, Disapparated.

Crabbe and Goyle, after giving one another a knowing look, followed.

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They were very lucky to find Snape already at Harry's house by the time they returned. Harry didn't bother to ask how he got inside. He was just glad the potion master was there to help Draco.

Two hours later, after Harry had sent Crabbe and Goyle out on some urgent business concerning the firm, he was sitting in the living room, head in his hands.

And that was how Snape found him, after he'd finished tending to Draco.

"Potter," Snape said, sitting down on the opposite side of Harry.

"Augustus Pye," Harry said, his voice barely contained. "I'm going to fuck him up and kill him."

When Harry looked at Snape, the man had no trouble believing him.

"What happened?"

Harry leaned back against the couch, sighing in frustration. After a moment, Harry told Severus everything that had happened, from Draco's reactions to Pye's confession, and the challenge that he'd won, and how they'd all escaped death in the nick of time.

Snape was slightly impressed. "Well, at least you got yourself one million dollars."

Harry glared at him. "Are you trying to make a joke?"

Snape shrugged. "You got out alive, if anything. Messing up the Felix Felicis like that, you're lucky you escaped with your sanity intact."

"I know." Harry gave a small, humorless grin. Snape could tell he was pissed off. "Bugger, this is so fucked up. How could Pye have done that? Draco was only sixteen, for god's sake."

Snape looked at his hands. "There are things in life that'll make people do crazy things."

Harry glanced at him. "Speaking from experience?"

Snape looked at him wryly. "You have no tact, do you?" Harry shrugged. "No matter. What I'm most curious about is, how did you know there was one ingredient missing, and then proceeded to make it perfectly, to boot?"

"What, do you doubt in my ability to overcome obstacles?" Harry feigned hurt.

"I doubt in your ability to recognize a potion and cleverly fix it to save your life," Snape replied honestly. Harry gave him a sullen look. "Don't look at me like that, Potter. I was your teacher for seven years and one of the medics in your faction during the war."

"You really know how to boost a person's self-esteem, don't you?" Harry commented sulkily before falling back into his memory of the challenge. "I'm not quite sure how I knew. It was all sort of strange. I thought the ingredients looked familiar, since I brewed a lot of antidotes during the war, so I figured, what the hell. Half way through the potion, I suddenly felt odd, like someone was performing a Legilimency spell on me, but different." Harry added hastily, seeing the look on Snape's face.

"It was more like, putting thoughts into my mind. At first I was reluctant to listen, but then, those thoughts became images that showed me what to do next with the potion. And you can pretty much guess, I followed its advice."

"But what about the missing ingredient?" Snape interjected.

"Oh yeah, that was strange, too. In the last stage, I heard a voice in my head." Harry frowned when Snape snorted. "It was odd. I could've sworn it was Draco's." They both looked at each other in silence.

Then Harry shook his head. "It said that there was something wrong with the items on the table. And I freaked because the voice disappeared, and the last clue I got was this image with a hand throwing a mandrake's root into the cauldron."

Snape took an intake of breath. "Mandrake's root is the most effective plant to neutralize any potion."

"Yeah, so basically, I didn't make an antidote."

"What you did was turning the whole potion into distilled water," Snape finished, very impressed. "Now don't you wish that voice was in your head when you took the N.E.W.T.s for Potions?"

"Shut up, Snape, your jokes are so lame."

Snape grudgingly fell quiet.

"Now all I want to know is what to do with Draco," Harry said with a sigh.

"What do you mean?"

"You heard what I've told you. The fucking experiment really messed up his body and ability to grow like a normal person. Fuck, this definitely explains why he looks like a sixteen years old boy."

"I guess we have to find a way to reverse the effects," Snape said casually. Harry stared at him. "What?"

"And how do you propose we do that?"

Snape tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I think I can ease some of the side effects you've told me about Draco's condition. I'm not sure; I have to check first and I'll come by tomorrow to let you know."

Harry nodded. Snape was suddenly struck by how tired he looked. It was startling for a twenty-two years old to look like that. Unexpectedly Snape felt a hint of worry for the young man.

"There's something I want to speak to you about, Potter," Snape said, reluctantly. He had thought of not telling Harry, but considering the man's past and the problems he'd dealt with, Snape figured it'd be best to be blunt with him.

"How come I have the feeling that I won't like what you're about to tell me?" Harry said cautiously.

Snape couldn't help but smirked. "Because you won't." On a more serious note, he continued, "After you left I went to the Ministry of Magic, and checked with Kingsley. We managed to dig up some old files on Pye, like his background, which I explained to you earlier, and then, more recent things."

"Recent things?"

Snape nodded, producing from his cloak a thick envelope. "You mentioned to me earlier that Draco was part of a research to stop human's aging process. Well, it turns out, their research is not only focusing on that."

Harry opened the file and went through the documents, eyes wide as he flipped through them. By the time he finished, Harry was sitting up straight in his seat. "Impossible," he said incredulously.

"Very possible, actually, if you think about it on a level of chemistry and magic," Snape corrected. "It appears that Pye and a secret organization in the Muggle government are experimenting on human cloning."

"But that's..."

"Illegal, yes, but what' more illegal, is that Pye is secretly using magic to correct the problems in the process. And if this leaks out, the wizarding world will be in grave danger."

Harry stared at him. Snape, now completely solemn, continued, "They're making clones that won't age, Potter, and they're selling them to the underground businesses, in industries that are quite illegal and unethical."

"You don't mean...?"

"Exactly. The sex industry, and everything that's involved with it."

Harry was stumped. The words sounded oddly surreal in his ears. It wasn't that Harry was unfamiliar with the idea of prostitution and such, owning a somewhat shady business himself, but there was magic involved! Not to mention, the Muggle government was a part of it. This was all just too much information to process all at once...

"But how did you," Harry said blankly, "How did you get this sort of information?"

"Apparently the Ministry of Magic got lead on some suspicious activity around London a while ago, and sent Kingsley and his men to investigate. When Pye's name came up on a Muggle's case file, they looked into it, and got a spy inside the institute."

"A spy?"

"He's dead, though," Snape said grimly. "Although, he did manage to send some valuable information to the Ministry of Magic before he was caught. But the thing is, we don't have any concrete proof." Now Snape was leaning toward Harry, his expression deadly serious. "This is why I'm worried about Draco."

"Draco?" Harry asked. "What's he got -" And then it hit him. "Draco... Draco was one of the guinea pigs... he must know something!"

Snape nodded, pleased Harry had caught on. "And I think that's why Pye wants to get Draco back so desperately. He must know something.

"Something that will put their organization in jeopardy."

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To Be Continued...
Chapter 5 - Breaking Point
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A/N: Many, many thanks and flowers to CuriousDreamWeaver, who is, for lack of better words, Just Simply Amazing.

And thanks to everyone who have been patient with this story and its slow updates. You truly make my day.