After he had escorted Goyle off the premises, he felt a need to stop by to see Scorpius. The boy was anxious for news, and Harry tried to be positive.

He sat with the boy while Mr. Keller pottered about in the kitchen. Scorpius was doing his homework, history, at the dining room table. The place smelled of old people, and was decorated to match. Harry thought of how out-of-place Scorpius must feel, despite the old man's friendly demeanour.

'When will I get to see him again?' Scorpius asked.

'Soon, I hope,' Harry said, knowing Draco wouldn't want him to promise anything. He sighed, glancing towards the kitchen, wondering if Mr. Keller could hear them. 'The Ministry is being cautious, after the mushroom incident.' A half-lie at best, and it made Harry feel bad.

'They all want them to just go away, don't they?'

'People are afraid of what they remind them of,' Harry said. 'They were dark times.'

'I wish they'd get over it,' Scorpius mumbled, for once sounding like the petulant ten-year-old he was suppose to. 'Dad needs to get back to work, or everything will be ruined.'

'You mean the building project,' Harry said, feeling even worse now. 'I tried to speak with someone about that, at the Ministry, but I didn't get very far. I'm sorry.'

'Dad says this is the most precious thing that's going to be lost since he started working for the Trust,' Scorpius continued. 'He told me people would gather to those places all the time. For weddings, funerals, even births. Now muggles will live on top, without ever knowing.'

Harry didn't know how to comfort a child worried about the fate of a historical site, so he just nodded and grumbled appropriately. Eventually, he had to make his excuses. He thanked Mr. Keller on Draco's behalf.

He headed back to the Ministry. As he was walking through the Atrium, Jenkins came running out from the lifts.

'Headmistress McGonagall firecalled the office,' he said, out of breath. 'They need you at Hogwarts.' Harry turned on his heel and stormed off.

Hermione and Ron had been in the pensive all day. Harry arrived while they were still inside, and McGonagall offered him tea, saying that Hermione had something to tell him and that she had sounded very worried. Harry barely managed to sit still. Finally, the pair emerged.

Hermione was scribbling furiously on a bit of parchment, while Ron looked a bit green.

'Did you find anything?' Harry asked, jumping up from his chair. McGonagall rose at a more leisurely pace. Hermione looked up, and for a moment she had a deer caught in the headlights look about her. She glanced down at her notes, then she and Ron exchanged glances. 'What?' Harry prompted.

'You tell him, I need tea,' Ron said. He took Harry's seat, and his half-drunken tea.

'Hermione?'

'Please, Harry, this is going to sound horrible, and I might be wrong. I haven't confirmed anything. Until we run the tests-'

'Hermione,' Harry said sharply. 'Don't start that, just tell me.'

'It's the marking.' Her face fell, as if she accepted some sort of defeat. She gestured to the pensieve. 'Draco wasn't aware of it at the time, none of them were, due to the pain. I should have realised the pain was unnecessary, but I just thought Voldemort was being his usual sadistic self… He stole some of their magic, Harry.'

'Stole-?' Harry was speechless, and McGonagall covered her open mouth in shock.

'Are you very sure Healer Weasley?' she asked.

'I-... I am, yes,' Hermione said very reluctantly. 'In Snape's notes, he said he felt tired for days after. The same with Draco. Their bodies acclimatized to the new magic levels. Voldemort didn't take enough to impact their spellwork in a meaningful way, but once you start adding up all the Death Eaters...'

'Sweet Merlin,' McGonagall whispered. 'We never thought that was now he did it.'

'Wait- you said Snape's notes? So, that's inot/i what changed with the new marking?' Harry asked.

'No, I'm positive that aspect is the same,' Hermione said. Harry swore. McGonagall rebuked him, but she was too shocked to care. She went back to her tea, drinking with shaking hands. Harry went to the pensive, staring down into its depth as if the answer would leap out at him. 'Harry-'

'We're running out of time.'

'I know,' Hermione said. 'But this is a very important discovery.'

'And a horrifying one,' Ron grumbled.

'But it's not the answer.'

'Mate, how can you be so calm about this?' Ron asked. 'Voldemort stole power, without them knowing.'

'He's dead, so I don't really care about making sure his list of sins is up to date.'

'Tell him about the connection,' Ron told Hermione. Harry looked up, frowning, catching the look of censure Ron got.

'What?' he asked. 'And spare me the "this is just a theory" bit.'

'Fine,' Hermione said, turning to Harry with a motherly look, which usually didn't bode well. 'When Voldemort was defeated, you felt a surge of power, right?'

'Yes… No, wait, you can't be serious.' Harry understood what she was getting at, and he shook his head, backing away. They had always explained his magical ability with the fact that he hadn't reached his full potential until he was seventeen. As the truth sank in, he felt sick. 'How would that even happen!'

'The marking ritual makes a wizard a servant. All the Death Eaters were in Voldemort's service, basically. He...'

'Owned them,' Ron said from his tea.

'Right, sort of,' Hermione said. 'I mean, this whole thing is one of a kind, literally, so we have to use different terms, but because of your connection, whenever a new Death Eater was sworn in, the power was divided between you.'

'Oh,' McGonagall said softly. She was deathly pale, and she looked up to Dumbledore's portrait, which for once was completely serious. 'Albus,' she whispered. This had never occurred to either of them. They had never realised the damage the Mark had done.

Harry turned away from the scene, leaning against one of the cabinets. He tried to just breathe, but it was difficult. Voldemort had been dead a long time, and Harry usually didn't spare him many thoughts, but this was almost as if he had never died.

Harry had carried his legacy in him, all this time.

'They swore their service- their magic, to me. All the new Death Eaters,' he half-asked.

'Every new Death Eater after your connection to Voldemort had been established,' Hermione confirmed. 'It explains why your powers kept rising, but then you had that surge after Voldemort's death, because now you are the sole- um, owner- and now... well, you're-'

'I'm the Lord now.'

'No, Harry, you are not him,' Hermione interrupted his line of thought. 'Whatever happens, you aren't going to use this power for evil. You know that, we all do.'

'None of them could have known,' Harry said instead. He gave a mirthless laugh suddenly. 'Merlin, could you imagine? If they knew they were swearing to me as well?'

Oaths, he thought, and the image of the dead wizard in Romania came to him. He had been ready to swear iagain/i. He felt his heart stop a beat. iNo/i, he prayed, let it not be the answer, but like Hermione had said, it explained so much.

'Voldemort perfected it,' he said, mostly to himself. 'The first time round, he just used the ritual as a cover to take a little, build up his power brick by brick, but then he found a way to really use it.'

'What do you mean?'

'I- I have to go.' Harry didn't listen to them calling for him. He took the steps down two at a time, and every shortcut he knew to the gates of Hogwarts. The second his foot was over the threshold, he apparated back to St. Mungo's lobby.

The ward was quiet, just like he had left it, so his beating heart sounded like it would wake everyone.

Draco was asleep, and Harry had to shake him awake due to the effect of the pain potions.

'What is it?' Draco grumbled, half asleep. He blinked up at Harry. 'What's happened?' He was awake in an instant. 'Is Scorpius all right?'

'He's fine,' Harry said. He had no idea how to say it, so he just blurted it out. 'I need you to swear the oath again.'

'What? I already gave you the memory.'

'I think I know what can stop this,' Harry gestured to Draco's arm. 'You just have to swear again… To me.'

'What on earth are you talking about?' Draco pushed himself up. 'Have you lost your mind?'

'Please, just do it,' Harry said. 'Call it a hunch.'

'No,' Draco said. 'I will never say those words again.'

'Draco, please just-'

'No, get out, you're insane.'

'Draco-'

'Get out!' Harry almost continued to argue, but Draco grabbed one of the empty potion bottles on the side table and threw it at him. He ducked. 'Get out!' Harry ran.

He looked up and down the corridor and picked a direction at random, walking down, glancing inside every room he passed. His heart was beating a hundred miles a minute, but he had to try. He had to know. His focus reminded him of a battle. He found the room of a Death Eater he knew was near the end. Hermione feared he only had days left. He was maybe five years older than them. Due to the pain, he was awake, incoherent and mumbling. There was a half-empty pain potion by his bed. Harry managed to get him to drink some. He had no idea if he was giving him too much, but the man settled down at least, and focused blearily on Harry.

'Do you know who I am?'

The man shook his head, moaning and trying to scratch his arm, but both his wrists were tied to the bed. Harry grimaced at the sight of the bandages. When was the last time anyone had changed them? He almost went to get a nurse to do it, wondering what Hermione would think if she knew her patients weren't being taken cared of. He didn't blame her, of course. He put all the blame where he knew it belonged: the Ministry and Shacklebolt.

'I am...' Harry hesitated. The man looked up at him again, waiting as though for salvation, or anything to distract him from the pain. 'I am the Dark Lord.' The information seeped in, and when the man finally recognised the words, his eyes widened and he gasped, struggling in his bonds. He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut, tears falling. Harry felt sick to his stomach, but pushed forward. 'I can make the pain go away. All you have to do is swear.'

'I swear,' the man gasped at once. 'Please, My Lord, I swear!'

'Auctoro probare,' Harry said, placing the tip of his wand on the man's arm. 'Do you-'

'I swear, I swear,' the man babbled. It was doubtful he was still listening. His head was flopping left and right, his eyes shut. 'I swear.'

'Auctoro medeis,' Harry finished. The man stilled at once. For a moment, Harry thought he had finally died. Before he could check, there was a sensation in the fingers on his wand hand. It shot up his arm and into him. It wasn't very strong at all, but it was unmistakable. Pure magic. Harry shuddered, then pushed it from his mind to check the man's condition.

When he leaned forward, he could see the man was breathing, thank Merlin. 'Um, Mr? Can you hear me?' He glanced down at the bandage, then up again at the seemingly sleeping man. Putting away his wand, he slowly removed the bloody rags by hand. Eventually, he could see the Mark, once he cleaned off the blood. It looked perfectly ordinary. Apart from all the scratch marks, it was no longer red or inflamed. Harry let out a breath, wondering what he should do now.

It worked, didn't it?

He leaned over the man again, and he did appear to be sleeping. His chest rose and fell steadily. Perhaps he had simply fallen asleep now that the pain was finally gone? Harry felt all the fear and stress leave him in a whoosh, just as quickly as it had seized upon him. He felt like he was intruding, so he left the room, leaning against the hallway wall, staring out into space. He should be horrified, and delighted, at the same time. He had found a cure, but it held terrifying implications. Instead of feeling either emotion, they seemed to cancel each other out.

'Harry!' Ron and Hermione were hurrying towards him, stopping short when they noticed his vacant expression. 'Harry?' Hermione repeated uncertainly. 'What did you do?'

'I healed him,' Harry said, jerking a thumb behind himself at the door. Hermione glanced between it and him, before running inside. Ron stayed, eyeing Harry up and down, probably wondering if he should offer comfort or warnings. After a few minutes Hermione emerged with a similar vacant look.

'He's sleeping,' she said. 'His Mark is dormant.'

'How did you do it?' Ron asked.

'I repeated the oath,' Harry shrugged.

'Harry!' Hermione admonished. 'How could you just-! I can't believe you-' She struggled with the words, mostly because they all knew that the results spoke for themselves, and she had just been telling Harry how he was not the Dark Lord. 'Did you feel anything?' Harry looked away and nodded stiffly. 'What did it feel like?'

'A bit of his magic shot into me,' Harry said. 'It was tiny, insignificant almost. It lasted maybe a second.'

They all fell silent. Harry tried not to imagine the public's reaction when word got out.

'We can't tell anyone about this,' Hermione said. Harry and Ron both looked at her surprised. 'This is not something they will understand.'

'I'm not sure I understand,' Ron muttered. Hermione shot him a reproachful look. 'Don't look at me like that. I trust Harry, but if he's suppose to do this to all the Death Eaters still alive, that's a lot of power, for anyone. And what happens ten years from now?'

'I suspect it will all repeat itself,' Hermione said quietly. 'It's quite brilliant, magically speaking. Voldemort slowly steals a person's magic, a tiny bit every ten years under the pretext of renewing their loyalties. They would die before they felt drained enough to notice anything amiss. And Voldemort, effectively immortal with the horcruxes, could recruit new Death Eaters indefinitely until he became all powerful. He did plan on ruling the world. This was how.'

Harry did not think that sounded the least bit brilliant.

Ron reached out to steady him. Harry hadn't even realised he had been swaying. 'Look, mate, we've got ten years to figure out how to break the Oath, right? Besides, you're not immortal. You're not him.'

Harry nodded jerkily, taking a deep breath through his nostrils. He could do this. It was just words - the tiny amounts of magic wouldn't make a significant impact, surely? Besides, he was saving lives, not enslaving them.

'There's just one problem,' Ron said, interrupted the silence. 'Keeping this a secret while saving these people is going to be impossible.'

'Then we try for as long as we can, starting right now,' Hermione said determinedly.

'Draco,' Harry said, setting off running to his room, not even waiting to see if the others followed. Draco was sitting up in bed, eyes closed, one hand over the bandaged Mark. It looked like he was willing himself not to scratch at it. He opened his eyes when Harry entered, and his face contorted in anger.

'Get out-'

'It worked. I cured one of the others.'

Draco blinked several times. Hermione and Ron burst into the room.

'Draco,' Hermione said, probably desperate to explain things in a more scientific manner before Harry said anything. 'We believe Harry and Voldemort's connection means Harry can put the Mark to sleep again.'

'Explain,' Draco demanded. Hermione did so as quickly as she could. Draco's eyes widened as he realised the implications, staring at Harry with an unreadable expression. Harry stared back pleadingly. He couldn't make Draco say the words, but he had to, for Scorpius if no one else.

When Hermione ended with the warning that they had to keep it secret, Harry jumped in before Draco could say no.

'It won't really mean anything,' he said. 'It's just a cure, and a tiny amount of magic, and we'll find a way to remove the Mark after, I swear. Please, Draco-'

'Do it.' Draco held out his arm. 'Go on,' he urged when Harry just stared at him. Harry quickly fumbled out his wand and placed the tip on Draco's bandage, clearing his throat awkwardly in the silence.

'Auctoro probare.'

'Should I just-?'

'Just swear,' Harry said.

'Right,' Draco cleared his throat, staring at his arm. 'I swear allegiance to Harry Potter.' That hadn't been exactly what Harry had had in mind, and it sounded all kinds of wrong, but he supposed it had to work just as well.

'Auctoro medeis,' he finished, and this time the little surge of magic was accompanied with a gasp of pain from Draco. He withdrew his arm sharply, cradling it. Hermione stepped forward, pushing in past Harry to examine her patient.

'That didn't happen last time,' Harry said, worried he had done something wrong this time. 'The first one just fell asleep.'

'He was probably in too much pain to feel it,' Hermione said as he unwrapped Draco's arm. 'It's logical the extraction would cause some pain.'

'How much magic do you think it was?' Draco asked, but before Hermione could speculate, his arm was revealed. The Mark was its old dark green self. Draco gasped and covered his mouth with his free hand, swallowing back a sob.

'Do you feel any pain?' Hermione asked.

'No,' he said, shaking his head. 'But I'm on a lot of potion right now.'

'I'll bring you an antidote, and some ointment.' Hermione hurried from the room. Ron muttered something about helping her, and left the two alone quickly.

Draco continued to stare at his arm. Harry shuffled his feet a bit. He opened his mouth to say something, perhaps offer comfort, or an apology, but Draco spoke first, this tone clipped.

'I did it for Scorpius,' he said.

'Of course-'

'I know you won't-... iabuse/i the fact that I am, magically speaking, your servant.'

'You are not my servant,' Harry said, disgusted by the idea. Draco wouldn't look at him, he realised. 'This was just a cure.'

'I know, but it feels like a punishment, or a penance.'

'What do you mean?'

'All this time, living in the muggle world,' Draco spoke haltingly. 'I thought, at least I have Scorpius, and at least I'm free.'

'Draco-'

'I know you're not him.'

Harry wished he could believe him. Hermione returned just then with the potions, and soon Draco was pain free and his arm was completely healed. He stroked over the old tattoo with a sigh of relief.

'I have to get home,' he said.

'You should rest until tomorrow, at least,' Hermione urged, but Draco was already pushing himself out of bed.

'No, I have to see Scorpius.'

'I can take you home,' Harry offered. 'I'll make sure he's resting before I leave,' he promised. Hermione nodded her consent, despite her reservations. She would handle the paperwork. Draco was weak from his time in the hospital, and didn't hesitate to take Harry's arm, though he still did not look him in the eye.

Harry was acutely aware of every point of contact for some reason. Words escaped him. The situation felt suffocating.

Once in the lobby, he apparated them directly to Draco's garden. He got Draco on the couch, with a blanket and a glass of water. He was just making sure Draco's feet were wrapped up good, in case he got cold.

'I'll go get Scorpius.'

'Thank you.'

'Don't mention it.'

'I don't intend to.' Harry looked up sharply from his task and caught Draco's stare. He nodded.

'Thanks.'

He went to the door.

'See you in ten years, then?' Draco called after him. Harry stopped short, hand on the door knob. He came round the sofa again to look at him. Draco's tone wasn't as cold as before. He sounded almost sad.

'We'll find a proper cure before then.'

'Right, but if you don't, I suppose I won't see you until next time, assuming Granger's theory is correct.'

When Harry didn't say anything, and continued to stare at him in confusion. Draco prompted him by raising his eyebrows in question. Harry's shook his head.

'Sorry, I just thought you'd be more angry about all this. I did take some of your magic.'

'I think I'm still in shock,' Draco mused. 'But it's not like I'm going to need it.'

Harry frowned at that. Draco, for some reason, smiled in response.

'See you in a decade then.'

'I'll probably come by, check up on you, on Hermione's behalf and stuff.'

'Good. I mean, that's fine.'

Harry nodded slowly, then when Draco didn't say anything more, he hurried out to get Scorpius from next door, feeling more confused than ever about Draco's mood swings, but still somehow hopeful.

He didn't stay for the reunion. That was too personal. Besides, he had a whole ward of people to cure.

Cure was perhaps not the best word, and it wasn't going to be as easy as the first two. Draco might have been calm about it once he realised Harry wasn't insane, but the other Death Eaters were not as enthusiastic about a possible cure. Many of them refused to believe it, or thought Harry was putting them under a new vow. By the next morning, they had managed to cure only a dozen of them. The nurses knew something was up, and Harry knew they had to get the word out that they had a cure, so other sufferers could come in. That did not mean he wanted to tell the world how he was doing it.

After a few hours rest, Harry ignored Hermione's insistence on more sleep, and headed for Azkaban. That proved even more futile. He had never considered those still loyal to Voldemort would rather die than swear to him.

He gave up around lunch, feeling useless and drained, despite having technically gained magic, but he couldn't think about that.

He decided it was time to go home and sleep for eight hours straight. No one was likely to die before morning. They could work on convincing the others tomorrow. Despite fearing he would have nightmares about this whole thing, he slept like the dead.

He only got six hours, however, as he was awoken at an ungodly hour by hard knocking on the door. Had Mrs. Black still hung on the wall, she would have been screeching.

Since the knock sounded a bit ominous, Harry got dressed quickly before coming down. Shacklebolt himself was outside, along with four top Aurors, who all had their wands drawn.

'Minister?'

'Mr. Potter, please relinquish your wand and come with us.'

'What? Why?'

'I think you know why. You're not being charged yet, but you need to come in for questioning about this "cure" of yours.'

Harry didn't know what to say. The full impact of what he had done had yet to really hit him, but he had never imagined this reaction.

'Minister-'

'Don't say anything more, Harry, please, just come with us.'

They were interrupted by the apparition pop of Ron. 'Weasley, I told you to stay at the office,' Shacklebolt barked. Ron ignored him.

'Hermione said to just go with him and we'll figure it out later, but don't say anything.'

'One more word, Weasley, and I will have your badge!'

'I'll come quietly,' Harry said, holding up his hands. 'Take my wand.' He allowed Shacklebolt to summon it. He was led away, thankfully not handcuffed, to a holding cell in the Ministry sub-levels.

The walls were stone, being one of the first levels to have been built back when the Ministry mostly dealt with criminal cases. There was a fairly comfortable bed, a sink, and a loo. Harry had escorted many a criminal awaiting trial into one of the cells.

It wasn't until he was alone with his thoughts that it occurred to him Shacklebolt might decide to keep him in here until all the other Death Eaters were dead.

XXX

Draco was shaken awake by Scorpius.

'Father, there's an owl for you,' he said. Draco opened his eyes blearily. He hadn't gotten a good night's rest since before this whole ordeal began. He almost snapped at Scorpius for waking him. 'It's from Healer Weasley. She says Auror Potter's been arrested!' That certainly did the trick.