Ch. 2: The Symbol in the Sky

A heavy silence fell across the tent, the kind that one feels in the hollow of their chest after their heart has sunk. Draco knew this kind of silence well, but that didn't mean that he liked it any better than the others.

A loud pop! sounded outside of the tent. In an instant, all three of them were on their feet with their wands out. Before they could investigate, however, a haggard-looking Kingsley ducked through the tent's entrance and held up a hand, signaling for them to put down their wands. Draco slid his wand back into the pocket on the inside of his robes and straightened his hair.

"Minister?" Potter greeted Shacklebolt, though his greeting was more of a question.

"No doubt you three have heard the news?" Shacklebolt asked solemnly.

"Yes, Sir." Granger was the first to speak. She was still a teacher's pet, even after all these years.

"We just finished listening to the emergency broadcast," Potter added, gesturing to the radio, which had returned to the crooning tunes of Celestina Warbeck.

"All these years of peace and it's broken on the anniversary," Shacklebolt muttered. "In any case, I need all Aurors to report to the Leaky Cauldron. Malfoy, Granger, both of you should come as well. We need every wand we can get. Quickly, there's no time to spare." He ducked back out of the tent and was gone with another pop!

"He's right," Granger said, breaking the tense silence. "We need to leave now. We can't let this happen, not again." Draco could hear the desperation in her voice. She ducked out of the tent, and he heard another pop! as she apparated away. Potter followed her silently. He threw a glance back at Draco, then ducked out of the tent and was gone a second later.

Draco ducked out of the tent, pushing down the tendrils of fear that threatened to engulf him. He turned on the spot, watching the moon-soaked campsite disappear from his view. Moments later, he reappeared into chaos.

Screams pierced the air around him and he could feel the fear permeating the atmosphere, as if it were some great writhing creature slowly squeezing the life from all those present. He had reappeared in an alleyway in Muggle London, not far from the Leaky Cauldron. Potter and Granger were already there, waiting for him. That was smart. As much as he didn't want to spend time with two thirds of the Golden Trio, he knew that sticking together would increase their chances of success. Draco drew his wand and nodded at the two. He was ready for whatever they were about to face.

They stepped out into the street, wands held at the ready. Muggles and wizarding folk alike were scurrying down the street, away from an ever-encroaching mass of black robes. Flashes of bright green and red lights streaked in every direction from the moving mass of wizards in dark robes. It was a familiar sight to Draco, and in that moment, he was no longer an employee of the Ministry of Magic, but a scared little boy who had been blackmailed into committing atrocities.

"Malfoy, come on!" Potter's voice rang out through the din, snapping him out of his thoughts. He had stopped in the middle of the street without realizing it. He broke into a jog to catch up to the two, cursing himself silently. He needed to stay focused. There was no time to dwell on the past.

As they neared the robed wizards, Draco noticed several other Aurors trying to hold them at bay. Robards, the Head of the Aurors, was there, along with Dawlish, Williamson, Proudfoot and Savage. Minister Shacklebolt had rejoined the Aurors and was dueling one of the robed figures, his wand a blur. Even Longbottom and Weasley who had retired from the Aurors for other careers had made an appearance, he noticed.

A flash of green came sailing towards Draco and he instinctively threw up a protego charm. The spell bounced off his shield and soared back at its caster, who dissolved it with a flick of their wand.

A large explosion sounded somewhere down the street, capturing the attention of the robed figure he was dueling. Draco took the opportunity and sent a stupefy spell towards his opponent. The stunning spell caught the figure full in the chest and they crumpled onto the ground, unconscious.

Draco sprinted down the street, quickly making his way to where the explosion had gone off. It was his duty as an employee of the Ministry to not only help civilians, muggle or wizarding, but also to document signs of dark magic, and he was determined to do both.

He didn't have to run far to reach the site of the explosion. When he arrived, a thin layer of smoke blanketed the area, sending him into a coughing fit. With a wave of his wand and a mumbled incantation, a bubble sprang to life around his head, providing him with a fresh supply of oxygen. Now able to breathe clearly, Draco assessed the area around him.

It was chaos. Several buildings were engulfed in flames, which were spreading fast. Draco could feel the searing heat against his skin as he made his way closer. Ministry officials were already at the scene, torrents of water flowing from their wands as they desperately tried to put out the flames. Soot-stained civilians pushed past him as they searched for a safe haven that wasn't there.

Another robed figure fired a spell at him, and he cast a shield instinctively. He was about to send a spell flying back when he saw it, the familiar gray eyes, and long strands of blonde hair peeking through the figure's mask and hood. He stood there, frozen, as he gazed into the eyes of his assailant, eyes that were so similar to his own…

"Malfoy, snap out of it!" came Potter's voice to his left. He blinked and suddenly the figure was gone. He wondered if it had even been there, and if it had truly been who he had seen. He pushed the thought out of his mind and raced ahead, keeping pace with Potter and Granger.

A small group of robed figures had hung back from the main group to set fire to the surrounding buildings and toy with the frightened muggles. Their laughter haunted Draco in a way he hadn't been for years.

It was supposed to be over. It had been the war to end pureblood supremacy. That's what the Ministry had told them.

Before long, Draco, Harry, Hermione, and the other Ministry employees had managed to push the robed figures back up the street, away from the frightened civilians. Draco thought they were close to cornering them when, suddenly, bang! Sparks shot up into the sky, forming a symbol that looked vaguely familiar to Draco, though he couldn't place why. He looked back down just in time to see the figures that were left turn on the spot, disappearing into thin air.

"Shit, they've apparated out," Harry declared breathlessly. Shacklebolt's angry curses filled the streets.

Draco glanced back up at the symbol that was shining like a twisted constellation in the night sky. There was something so familiar about it. He was sure he had seen it before, but where?

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An hour later, after the Obliviators had erased the muggles' memories and repair charms had been cast on the buildings that were destroyed, Draco, Harry, and Hermione, along with the other aurors and ministry officials who had been present during the attack, stood in the lobby of the Ministry of Magic.

The gilded fountain in the lobby that had been remade into a horrific portrayal of wizarding supremacy during the Second Wizarding War had been returned to its former glory, with a few alterations. The statues of the centaur, goblin, and house-elf were no longer staring up at the wizard and witch in adoration. Instead, the statue had been remade so that all five figures were now standing arm in arm as equals.

Healers swarmed the lobby, tending to the wounded with murmured incantations. Despair blanketed the room and everywhere Draco looked he saw forlorn and frightened faces. He was frightened too, but a long time ago he had learned to push that emotion deep down into the depths of his psyche, and that's exactly what he did now.

The Minister was talking in hushed tones with several of the senior aurors. When he saw the three of them near the fountain, he waved them closer animatedly.

"—couldn't track them further," one of the aurors was saying as they approached. The group fell silent when they reached them.

"Malfoy, Potter, Granger, my office, if you please. I'll be along presently," the Minister said, waving them towards the hallway that led to his office. The three of them obeyed swiftly, their footsteps echoing across the lobby as they walked.

The small empty space sent a tingle of relief through Draco. He collapsed into a chair on the other side of the Minister's desk, not even caring that it was slightly wobbly and uncomfortable. He had been on his feet for entirely too long, so any chance to sit down was welcome. The other two took their seats beside him, both looking as weary as he felt.

The room was silent, save for the creak of their chairs as they shifted in them, but Draco preferred it that way. His mind felt muddled. He tried to convince himself that he hadn't really seen what he had thought he had. It had to have been a trick of the light, or maybe he really was going insane. There was no way it had actually been—

The door to Shacklebolt's office swung open, wrenching him suddenly from his thoughts. The Minister strode in, looking wearier than ever. The door closed behind him with a soft click.

"Tea?" Shacklebolt asked, and the mundanity of his request took all three aback. Still, Granger was the first to answer.

"Um.. Yes, Sir," she squeaked. The Minister nodded and waved his wand, murmuring some indistinguishable incantation. An ornate silver teapot appeared, and four teacups followed, plunking down in front of each of them. The teapot hovered, moving between each of them until all four had a steaming cup of tea in front of them.

"Ah, I almost forgot," the Minister said. He waved his wand once again and a small pitcher of cream and a tray of sugar cubes appeared.

There was silence for a few minutes as each made their tea according to their tastes. Hermione had a dash of cream and three sugars, Harry had only one sugar, but Draco kept his plain, preferring the unmarred taste.

"Right," Shacklebolt began after each had made their tea, "first off, I want to thank each of you for lending your wands to this fight."

"Of course, Sir," Harry answered.

"That being said, I think it's important for you to know why that was necessary." The Minister took a sip of his tea, then began again. "You see, for several months, other locations in Europe have been experiencing similar terror attacks as this one on both muggles and wizarding folk who are sympathetic to muggles." A shocked silence followed his declaration, then Granger spoke.

"But, Sir, if this had been happening for several months, wouldn't we have seen it in the Daily Prophet, or other news?" she asked, looking pale.

"Ah, but that's exactly it, Miss Granger. You see, we've been working very hard at the Ministry to make sure this doesn't get out into the public. More terror attacks only ten years after the war? It would be a PR nightmare for the Ministry. That's why your department, the Obliviators, have been working overtime lately. You've been erasing all memories of the terror attacks, along with the ancient ruins. You just don't remember it because we've been erasing the Obliviators' memories as well. However, these attacks are becoming more and more frequent, I'm afraid our method of covering this up is becoming unsustainable. Sooner or later wind of these attacks will leak to the press, and that's why I need you three."

"Sir?" Harry asked.

"You three were there during the last war. Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, both of you played an important role when it came to our victory during the war. The public looks up to both of you. Mr. Malfoy, though your family sided with Voldemort during the war, you have proved yourself to be a highly proficient curse breaker with a vast knowledge of the dark arts, and a loyal employee of the Ministry." Draco gave a curt nod to the Minister.

He had proven himself loyal, there was no doubt about it. His family had abandoned Voldemort during the final battle when it became clear they had chosen the losing side. Still, despite that and despite years of him working tirelessly to prove himself, there would always be wizarding families who distrusted him.

"This terror group," Harry began after a short pause, "you said this isn't the first time they've attacked? What else do we know about them?"

"They call themselves Purum Sanguinem," the Minister answered. The word sent shivers down Draco's spine. He was sure he had heard it somewhere before. "It means—"

"Pure blood," Granger finished. Her eyes were wide, and she was clutching at her arm so tightly her knuckles were white.

"Yes," Shacklebolt answered solemnly. "As far as we can tell, they harbor the same feeling towards muggles and muggleborns as You-Know-Who. We have reason to believe there may be some former Death Eaters among their ranks, those who managed to weasel their way out of time in Azkaban, or who have served their sentences and have been released, though we don't have any hard evidence to prove that."

Draco's mind flickered back to the figure he saw earlier in London. Once again, he tried to convince himself that what he had seen had just been a trick of the light, but the more he played the memory back in his mind, the more he knew it wasn't.

"One last thing. I'm sure you all saw this image in the sky earlier," Shacklebolt continued, suddenly pulling him from his thoughts. The Minister drew his wand and traced a shape into the air. Tendrils of light streamed from his wand and wove themselves into a familiar symbol that shimmered overhead.

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"This symbol is left at the sight of every terror attack, in a similar fashion to how the Dark Mark was used. Does this mean anything to any of you?" The Minister asked. For a moment, all was quiet as they studied the symbol, then Granger broke the silence.

"Oh! I'm so thick! Where is it?" She pulled a small notebook from the pocket of her robes and rifled through it, turning pages with a mad fervor until finally, she seemed to reach the page she was looking for.

"There!" she thrust the notebook at a surprised-looking Shacklebolt. "This symbol was on the altar of the Forest of Bowland's ancient ruins site. It shows up all over the site, not just on the altar, though. Whatever it means, it's important and it seems to be connected in some way to this group, Purum Sanguinem."

Shacklebolt studied her notebook closely for a moment, his eyebrows furrowed, then handed it back.

"Good work, Miss Granger. It seems like the ancient ruins sites are connected to this group in some way. In that case, I'll need all three of you to be even more focused on studying these sites. They may provide the answers we need about this group and their motivations."

"Yes, Sir," Granger answered.

"You can count on us, Minister," Harry said reassuringly. Draco felt Shacklebolt's gaze slide towards him. It was no secret that the Minister still distrusted him. That was fine. Draco was used to people distrusting him.

"Consider it done, Minister," Draco answered curtly.

"Excellent. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to the lobby. I need to check in on the other aurors." With that, Shacklebolt stood and began to make his way over to the door.

"Minister, wait," Draco called after him, standing up so suddenly that his chair fell backwards. "There's something you should know."

Shacklebolt stopped, his hand on the door, and looked back at him. "Yes?"

"Sir, my—" his voice broke, and he took a moment to compose himself. "I saw my father with them."