Many thanks to those who continue to review. ~F

Chapter Fourteen

Clashes of Will

Nobu'tan had known walking into this situation that the Dursley family was going to be incredibly unpleasant, and that Dumbledore had been more than aware of the fact, but even still he had sorely underestimated exactly how unpleasant that they could try to be when they put their collective minds to it.

Despite their stated desire for him to stay out of their way, or his personal wish for the same, when he arose the next morning he found a note on the outside of his door with a ridiculously long list of tasks that these people apparently expected him to complete for them. By no means was he unaware of physical labor or the usual payment for room and board, but still they had made an agreement that had never once brought the mention of chores into it, so he was not about to do a single one of these.

Instead, he ignored the note completely, and after dressing in some of the more nonmagical styled clothing that he had, closed the door and left the house completely, eager to try out his ability to get to Diagon Alley on his own. He most certainly wasn't going to use the method that Dumbledore mentioned, as it was highly likely that it was either a lie or some sort of means to keep an eye on him.

Moving to a secluded area where no one would be able to easily see him, Nobu'tan concentrated, tapping into what Ley Lines were nearby and connected to the ones leading back to Hogwarts. it was significantly more difficult here, the nearest line miles away and thus requiring that he take a great deal of time to get the power for this spell. Nobu'tan focused on his destination, one of the small side alleys near the goblin bank, and carefully moved his hand through the air, drawing out the rune of transportation.

With the sound of rushing wind the scene around him of drab and boring houses dissolved, soon replaced with the magical marketplace in a sudden explosion of light and sound. He landed gently on the cobblestones of Diagon, and looked around, smiling to himself. Teleportation wasn't so bad after all. He had momentarily worried that it would feel just like the wizard's method, which was extremely unpleasant.

Checking on how much withdrawn funds he had with him told Nobu'tan that he did indeed need to visit that bank again and replenish his supplies from the last time he had come, so that was his first destination. To the surprise of some of the other humans entering the bank alongside Nobu'tan, the goblin guards actually turned and nodded at him as he passed, the gesture returned by the orc raised human.

Apparently having the goblin's respect was something significant to these humans; although sarcastically Nobu'tan wondered if it was possible for such a weak race to fully comprehend the warrior traditions of either the orc clans or these goblins. Musing as he waiting in the long line, he wondered if that was part of the reason that the Horde and Alliance had fought so fiercely back in Azeroth. It seemed plausible, if not probably, as the Horde for one had never bothered to understand the humans, but naturally Nobu'tan understood their reasoning, they needed to have the world's land to survive, as their home world, Draenor, was dying.

From what he had gathered from his time in Dalaran however, Nobu'tan guessed that the humans had made no such attempts to understand the Horde either however, so he had little sympathy for his own race in that regard. The wizards of the Violet Citadel had thought the orcs mindless monsters that simply gloried in destruction and death, which while true for a few clans, Nobu'tan thought of the Burning Blade, Twilight Hammer and Warsong Clans as examples, the rest simply wanted to stake out a claim for their people to live, and following the Warchief and Gul'dan's orders were means to that end.

No, the humans were in the wrong, even if it had been their lands that the orcs invaded, as they could easily have tried to reach out the hand of friendship and understand what the orcs wanted, but instead they had reacted with violence, which started the cycle of hatred that had been in full swing when Nobu'tan was ripped from Quel'Thalas and Gul'dan by the unforeseeable circumstances that had happened between the Grand Warlock and Archmage Kel'Thuzad.

The line finally had trimmed down to the point where Nobu'tan was next, and when the teller called for him, the people were surprised when the little goblin hopped down from his lofty chair to speak to Nobu'tan face to face, like an equal instead of towering over him. "How might we of Gringotts help you today, Mr. Potter?" the goblin asked, baring his teeth in what amounted to one warrior greeting another.

Replying in like manner, despite how awkward it was for a human mouth to replicate the gesture, Nobu'tan bowed his head slightly, recognizing the Goblin's older age as a veteran while he himself was still, in their eyes, a green warrior. "I need to withdraw some more funds from my vault for resupply."

"Of course Mr. Potter, right this way," the teller said, abandoning his post, and the line that started grumbling immediately, and led Nobu'tan to the same row of offices that he had visited on his previous trip, "Manager Badrod will take care of any other needs you have while we bring up a withdrawal from your trust vault for you, Mr. Potter." The teller said, gesturing for Nobu'tan to enter before turning to walk back to the large line of wizards waiting for him.

Badrod the goblin was behind his desk when Nobu'tan entered, but set aside the parchment he was reading and leaned forward excitedly as the warlock entered, "Ah, Mr. Potter, we were hoping for you to arrive back inside our walls soon, and… without entourage…" he added, glancing around Nobu'tan, looking for acknowledgement that he was indeed alone.

"Yes… although throwing off my watchers was rather difficult, so I may be short on time," Nobu'tan lied, hoping that it would get the goblin's straight to the point and avoid needless haggling. If these were anything more like those goblins of Azeroth, he would be mired down in their wheedling for this or that within an hour and never be able to leave the bank.

"Yes, well, then we'll make sure to get to the heart of the matter we wished to discuss with you quickly, then." Badrod said, gesturing for the chair opposite him, which Nobu'tan took cautiously, still awaiting some… something that would prevent him from leaving and going about his business that he originally came to complete.

"It has been far too long, and Gringotts is very pleased to be able to discharge what last wishes of the late Lord and Lady Potter that were documented… or that is what I'd like nothing better to be able to say to you, young Heir Potter…" the goblin started, glowering at the parchment that he had picked up as he began.

"And why ever can you not say that?" Nobu'tan asked, his concern abating slightly. If the goblins were angry at some other circumstance, then it appeared they were on his side of things, and that meant that they were less likely to try and harm or hinder him in his plans. Perhaps he could swing things the right way and gain powerful allies here to help him prepare the way for the Legion.

"Mainly because the vast majority of their preparations centered around who would be named your guardian in the event of their deaths. All assets were part of the Potter estate and thusly would go in full to you upon your seventeenth birthday, so there is nothing that has to be done regarding wealth or property. Until your majority it will stay in stasis, managed by the bank for you."

Well that was no big surprise, considered what species Nobu'tan was speaking to. Naturally the goblins would want to be able to make as much profit off his inheritance as they could before having to give it back, but he really didn't care, "and so, what were the terms regarding guardianship, and why are they unable to be fulfilled?"

"There was a short list of persons that were to take up the role of guardian, but in one shape or another they are incapable or deemed unfit to care for you, in order of priority they were Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Lord and Lady Longbottom, and finally Peter Pettigrew…" Badrod said, glancing once at the parchment again…

"And the reasons none of these people could take me?" Nobu'tan urged, not caring particularly but wanting the goblin to get over with it so he could leave.

"Sirius Black is currently imprisoned in Azkaban for murdering Peter Pettigrew and betraying the secret location of your parents to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Remus Lupin is a registered Werewolf and therefore deemed unfit to be a guardian under Ministry of Magic edicts, and both Lord and Lady Longbottom are confined to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies for an indefinite period due to spell induced insanity." The goblin recited, seeming having waited to dump this massive amount of information on Nobu'tan all at once and watch his reaction.

The young warlock paused for a moment, considering, "Well, I suppose that's most unfortunate, but as I was raised in an undisclosed location, it matters very little as none of these people would have had the opportunity to raise me even if they had been capable. Was that all you had for me, or is there something else?"

The goblin looked pleased, as though not expecting the reaction and finding it favorable to what was originally anticipated. "No, Mr. Potter, that's all we needed to know." Passing over a bag of gold from somewhere unknown, the goblin bid him farewell, and Nobu'tan didn't know whether to curse himself for letting any information, however discreet, slip or just be thankful that he had escape with most of the day intact.

Leaving the bank as fast as he could, Nobu'tan paused at a small bench and relaxed as he planned his shopping route. First and foremost, he would have to get some sort of container to hold all of his items, as he had not brought his trunk, and in any case it would be far too large and cumbersome to drag around. Finding such a shop proved simple, and within twenty minutes Nobu'tan had a messenger bag that had charms woven into the leather to make it feather light and greatly expanded inside, with several compartments for separating things.

Thinking of the list he had mentally prepared, Nobu'tan figured he'd need to get food first of all, as per his arrangement with the Dursley's he had to feed himself. There were long lines and many other shoppers around the grocers of Diagon, but Nobu'tan pushed his way between the large women that were getting food for their families and found quite a few easy to prepare ingredients. He wasn't the best at cooking, but it was close enough in process to alchemy or potionmaking back in Hogwarts that the skills should transfer over without too many dissimilarities.

After gathering enough food for three weeks, Nobu'tan slipped out of the madhouse that was the grocer, and returned to the more interesting parts of his shopping excursion. Parchment, quills, and basic ink were purchased, along with resupplying his potion's kit, just in case he was indeed forced back to the school for another year, and Nobu'tan bought a great deal of herbs that he could use for basic Alchemy and Inscription inks, smiling as he found even some of the more difficult to harvest specimens that he recognized.

He was even luck enough to find a copper rod and several high magical trinkets at low prices that he might be able to begin touching on enchanting with, breaking down the baubles into magical dust and pure magic essence to reimbue other benefits onto items in his possession.

A visit to Madam Malkin's also garnered him several outfits of both muggle and wizarding design, so that he had more than just a simple school uniform to wear, which would probably help make the Dursleys leave him alone just a touch more, not that he would have to endure their presence for much longer.

Strolling up the length of the Alley after his necessities were all purchased, Nobu'tan was distracted by a strange tingle in the magic of the marketplace, emanating from one of the shadier side alleys. The sign above it read Knockturn Alley, and the young warlock could definitely feel the presence of demonic magic somewhere deep in the cramped cluster of buildings. Unable to resist the pull of familiar magic, Nobu'tan started down the strange and decrepit street, ignoring those who stared at him as he passed.

This was clearly a place ill suited for children, but Nobu'tan was unafraid of anything these fools could attempt to do to him. even when one of the rougher looking people moved to get in his way, the orc raised human merely raised a hand and let fel magic flow freely, conjuring a orb of shadows that sent the burly man scurrying backward in fear.

After that none dared to challenge his presence in the alley, and Nobu'tan was able to pinpoint the sources of demon magic. Sources, as it turned out that there were multiple small places around the alley that bore signs of demonic magic, although the majority were sadly nothing more than useless trinkets that held the taint of some dark wizard that had touched Void-based magic at one time or another, and were therefore useless to the warlock.

Disappointed, Nobu'tan went to the final location that held any sign of fel magic, not expecting to find anything of worth, until he realized that he had walked into a dusty book shop, filled to the brim with tomes and scrolls in various stages of age. In the midst of the mess somewhere, glowed a small portion of fel magic, and Nobu'tan felt his excitement grow slightly as he hoped that there might be some useful item buried in the store.

"Are you lost, little boy?" murmured the old crone the came out of the back, looking down her hooked nose at him as he started to shift through the cluttered piles of parchment.

Ignoring the unimportant shopkeeper, Nobu'tan continued his search, shifting aside large piles of parchment at a time, knowing that he was getting closer to his goal, before the old crone tried to stop him physically, "There's nothing in here for you, now…" she stopped when he turned to glare at her, the dark power of the Void welling up inside him, transforming his eye color to a deep crimson state. The candles in the shop flickered madly, causing the shadows in the room to dance. Dust was thrown into the air, and the ancient floorboards creaked and groaned as magic started to fill the room.

The woman released him, and Nobu'tan dispelled the building magic in him, saying nothing as he returned to perusing the various scrolls before him. The crone seemed to know what he was after, and flicked her wand, summoning a decrepit and yellowed scroll from the bottom of a pile. Nobu'tan took it instantly, unrolling it and making certain if it was of any use to him. The demonic writing glowed with sinister green and red light, and the warlock smiled as he realized what he held. Digging through a pocket, he dropped a small handful of silver on the floor as he turned to leave.

Exiting the side alley swiftly, Nobu'tan checked the time in one of the store windows, and recognized that he probably should start heading back to the disgustingly bland muggle household for the approaching evening. Finding a small nook that was hard to observe, he thought of the muggle backyard, allowing himself to slip through space once again and return to the drab boringness of his relative's house.

Landing between the shed and the back fence, Nobu'tan made sure he was unobserved as he crossed the lawn and reentered the house, removing and stowing his cloak in his expanded bag before entering so his clothing looked rather mundane.

His Aunt was in the kitchen, and called for the robust form of Vernon Dursley the moment that Nobu'tan entered. "So…" the man said angrily, stomping toward him, "So... You think that you can just ignore the chores that we ask of you in return you putting a roof over your ungrateful head, do you?" he said angrily, but the warlock was not having any of it.

"I'm sorry, but that was not part of the original deal," Nobu'tan replied sharply, "No mention of extended lists of chores were ever mentioned in our bargain, merely that we leave each other alone for the short duration of my stay, and thus far I am held my end of that deal. I have been gone all day, and purchased my own food to cook and prepare for myself. Attempting to force me to do labor for you is, as I see it, violating your part of the bargain to simply leave me alone until I leave at the end of the month."

The man started turning various shades of purple in his rage. Clearly the man was of the opinion that he could order anyone around as he pleased, without any thought or care to their own free will. "I suppose that you could just write to Dumbledore and tell him that I will not be staying here," Nobu'tan offered, "but meanwhile I will be leaving of my own accord, as I refuse for that man to try and imprison me somewhere else instead. Feel free to try and explain how I 'slipped' away while under your care…"

"Fine… fine!" the man said, throwing up his hands irritably, turning to storm out of the room.

"Two more things…" Nobu'tan said pleasantly, forcing the man to face him again. "First, when will you be finished with your evening meal, as I would like to use your cooking station to prepare my food for the week, I will naturally clean and replace anything that I use," the man nodded, seeing it as acceptable, "and second, do I look normal enough dressed like this for you?" Nobu'tan raised his arms and turned in a slow circle, letting them all see his new clothing from the magical marketplace.

"It will do…" the man said angrily, clearly wanting nothing more to do with the warlock. His wife though seemed to have a more critical eye for such things, and hesitantly took a step forward, "You got those in the magical market didn't you," she said hotly, "they're a decade old in style, but you could be ignored in some circles…"

"I see… where could I go to find some clothing that is more modern then?" Nobu'tan asked, honestly seeking their opinion about how to blend in to their standards.

"Well, as you clearly don't expect us to clothe you, I know a few places…" Petunia said, glancing once at her husband's retreating form as the whale of a man returned to the living room. "If you could show me a map or picture of the place I can get there myself, although any assistance at all would be acceptable…" Nobu'tan said, bowing slightly at the waist.

The woman sniffed once, then returned to her work, "We'll be done eating in about an hour, you may use the kitchen after that." she said.

"Thank you…" Nobu'tan replied, turning to return to his room and organize the purchases he had made.

If things were going to be this tense for the time he had to dwell here, Nobu'tan thought, it would probably be far easier if he just left for the Malfoy's far earlier than expected.

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Albus had wasted no time from the moment Harry had been left at his Aunt and Uncle's home in Little Whinging, but had immediately apparated back to the quiet village of Godric's Hollow. He had precious little time to really get up to his elbows in investigating what had exactly happened to Harry to keep him out of the Wizarding World for so long, and where he might have been whisked off to.

As this was the first location that he had seen the boy when he had reappeared, Albus figured that a thorough search of the abandoned and ruined house might yield some small clue, but it was a desperate hope that he clung to. Nevertheless, Albus dutifully strode to the spacious cottage turned war memorial, and pushed past the gate and entered the front room.

It always pained the old Headmaster, seeing Lily and James' happy home in this state. The memories of entering this same door not ten years ago, filled with warmth and happiness of the young couple and their one year old baby boy, full of joy and a steak of mischievousness that put smiles on everyone's faces flashed through his mind. All the ruined furniture had some delightful memory to it, and Albus lovingly stroked the arm of a charred and partially obliterated chair that had been his personal favorite to sit in when he was invited to visit.

"I promise you both," Albus said, his thoughts drifting to the two Potters who were currently buried in the same village, "I will do everything in my power to make this right." And turning from the front room, he continued his search.

With wand held high to cast light throughout the house, Albus inspected everything, noting the places that seemed the most disturbed. There were shifts in the layers of dust where someone had been walking, nearly a year ago, and the Headmaster could only assume that Harry had been exploring the house as well when Albus had first found the boy.

The kitchen was untouched, although it seemed that Harry had stood in the doorway and looked at it before heading upstairs, a second time apparently by the path of the footprints. The boy had then gone into the bathroom, and either used the facilities or merely examined them, Albus wasn't certain which.

But there was something that caught his attention; on the floor near the sink was a small, white stone that seemed to have been dropped as the boy bolted from the room in haste. Albus could only guess that it had been when he himself had arrived to find Harry. The stone only had a thin layer of dust, compared to the rest of the floor, which lent much to Albus' suspicions that Harry had indeed dropped it.

There was also a rune inscribed onto the stone in a bluish color, and the aged wizard found that it was the same style of writing that the boy had first used when they had met in this house. It took a few moments of study to grasp that the word was something akin to 'Home' in meaning. There was also a trace level of ambient magic about the item, although after a year of disuse it was extremely faint.

Pocketing the strange clue, Albus turned to explore the rest of the upstairs. The guestroom was untouched, its door still closed, while the Master Bedroom had only the single path of footprints where the boy had run to where Albus had originally found him, and it seemed that they boy had not had time to do much before he had arrived, which left only the nursery.

The footsteps from this room seemed to indicate that this was where Harry had first arrived, a large patch of dust having been blown away where the boy had apparently landed quite heavily, just in front of the crib that bore him as a baby.

What was most curious was that there was no means of explanation as to how Harry had come to appear there, although the faint magical aura remained in the room from the transportation. It seemed somewhat familiar to Albus, but he couldn't place it until he casually put his hands into his robe pockets to think, brushing against the stone he had picked up. Pulling it out, he was struck with the similarities of the two magical signatures, and realized that whatever magic the stone had or possessed still, was the means of travel that Harry had taken, somewhat like a Portkey.

At least one question was answered now, even if it spawned a slew of questions in its wake. The stone did not feel like any Portkey that Albus had created or handled, but nevertheless he was convinced that it was indeed how Harry had been transported here, to his first home…

Looking up through the blasted ceiling of the nursery, Albus wondered what had gone through the poor boy's mind when he arrived in the dilapidated cottage. No doubt he was afraid, angry perhaps, and very confused. But just where had the boy come from, there were so many unknowns to this mystery that it made Albus' head hurt just to think of it.

Sadly, he turned and left the room, making his way carefully back outside. There seemed to be nothing left for the old building to tell him regarding Harry's arrival, but the clue he had indeed helped.

Apparating to Hogsmeade, Albus sought out the cool reflective taste of one of his brother's ales in the Hog's Head, and even though Aberforth wanted little to do with his older brother, the man was still willing to take his gold in exchange for a large firewhiskey to help smooth out the headache that had come from too much deep and strenuous thought.

Even as he drank, Albus couldn't shake the thought that something was missing, either from his investigation or any of the explanations that Harry had grudgingly given him regarding his unique abilities, his background, or just about anything he had spoken to the boy about. If only there was a way for Albus to get the boy to trust him, then perhaps he'd willingly confess where he had been, and confirm whether Merlin himself had been teaching him powerful ancient magic or not.

Albus felt that this was the most reasonable probability, and even still it was stretching for something that highly likely was nowhere near the truth. He truly hated puzzles sometimes.

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Lucius had been only mildly surprised when less than a week into the summer holiday; Draco had received a reply from Mr. Potter requesting the lad to come and stay at the manor far earlier than they had originally expected. According to the boy, there were several complicated issues regarding his currently household that were best discussed in person, if at all, and Lucius wondered what madness that Dumbledore had placed Potter into.

Normally he would have refused, prioritizing his and Narcissa's precious time with their son alone, but with the combination of the thoughts and suspicions he had regarding young Potter, and the urgent and pleading tone that the decently written note implied, as well as approval from his wife, Lucius agreed to forward the Portkey with Draco's next letter, scheduling Potter's arrival for the middle of the second week of summer, just in case the owl was delayed.

That was why, a few days later, he and his family were waiting in the main hall as the clock ticked down the last few minutes before the Portkey was to activate, to welcome the boy into their home for the second time. Lucius was interested to see what the boy's supposed magic was like, as Draco had been all but silent regarding what it was or how it was performed, citing that he had no authority to share Potter's secrets.

When the appointed time arrived, a vortex of blue energy appeared in the center of the hall, over the large crest of the Malfoy family, carrying the young wizard until he touched down surprisingly gracefully for what Lucius had guessed might be his first experience of travel by Portkey.

Wearing robes of a deep royal blue, with black satin trim and onyx stones embroidering the collar, Potter turned to them and bowed respectfully as the three Malfoy's approached. "Thank you for allowing me to come so much earlier than planned," he said immediately, "and I apologize for any inconveniences my selfishness caused."

Pleased by the lad's manners, Narcissa was the first to address him, "It was no trouble for us, dear boy, and please feel at home here." As his wife summoned a house elf to take care of Potter belongings, Lucius approached, and shook the boy's hand cautiously. He was surprised to note the deep calluses that covered the palm and fingers, as well as the sheer strength that was in the young boy's grip. It spoke of a life of hard manual labor, which for a wizard was strange, if not normally looked down upon.

"It is a pleasure to have one of Draco's close friends with us during the holidays," Lucius said coolly, choosing to look past some of the outward signs that the boy might be less than he anticipated, and postponed his judgment for the time being.

"The pleasure is all mine, Lord Malfoy, I assure you." Potter replied, eyes glinting with magical power as he spoke.

"Come, I'm sure that the elves have a meal prepared for us already, and there must be much for us all to discuss," Lucius said, escorting Potter toward the smaller, intimate dining room rather than the massive hall that was used for banquets. Knowing what little he did from Draco, intimidation was not the route that would be effective in getting Potter to open up, but rather mutual openness and even a small amount of trust would go much farther.

"You mentioned in your letter that the other family set by Dumbledore to watch you for the summer were being somewhat difficult…" Lucius started after they sat and were served the midday meal by the elves.

The boy frowned slightly at some recent memory, "I was placed with my own muggle relatives…" he said, which spread the frown around the table, "from my mother's side of my family, but it just wouldn't work out. They were already set in their ways of closing their eyes to magic and apparently had to be threatened by Dumbledore to take me in the first place. Three solid arguments in as many days over them trying to change their own rules so they could make me do whatever they wanted was too much, which is why I wrote to you so quickly."

"What were these rules you spoke of?" Narcissa asked, and Lucius mutually agreed that he wanted to know the exact reasons that Potter had elected to leave.

"Well, when I first set foot in their house, we together set up a working agreement," the boy started, "I would stay out of their way and vice versus. I was to take care of my own food in exchange for using their extra bedroom, and I would leave as soon as possible, that being the original time that we had agreed upon. However not one day later they tried to change the rules by giving me a list of chores that would have had me working the entire day to complete, doing what amounted to household servant work: washing, cleaning, cooking, etc. Naturally I wasn't about to do any of that, as it was not part of the original agreement, so I went out to Diagon as I had originally planned for that day, to get all the things I knew I would need for coming here and the next year."

Lucius nodded, agreeing silently. That was the correct action that he would have taken himself. If these relatives had not mentioned chores up front, then it was expected that they did not want Potter to do any of them, to suddenly change their mind was disrespectful to the intelligent, albeit young, man that had taken up residence with them.

"When I returned in the evening, having stayed out of their way the entire day, they had the audacity to call me ungrateful and rant and rave that I ought to have done all the things on their list. I calmly refused, reciting that it was not part of the agreement for me to become, in effect, their servant, and went to my room, only returning when they had finished their evening meal to prepare and eat my own, cleaning everything that I used as I promised them at the time. The next day, the same thing happened, a new list of chores with the added threats of a punishment if they were not completed."

Lucius furrowed his brow; these relatives must have been dense, even by muggle standards to think the same tactic would work after it had not once already. "Naturally I can assume that you rightly refused to be their maid a second time," he said, to which the boy nodded.

"That evening my Uncle thought he was within his right to try and deny me food or even send me to my room, which I calmly reminded him that I was not a child under their roof, but a temporary guest, and if they had had anything they wished me to do, they ought to have requested it like one would a guest, and not demanded it like one would to a child. As I was already preparing my own food, he had no right to try and steal what was mine, nor had he the right to force me from his presence, although I willingly departed from it soon afterward." He explained further.

Lucius was starting to feel a headache appearing on his brow, the disgust of muggles deepening as he listened. "That was when I sent the letter to you, requesting to be allowed an escape from that house as soon as possible, as the next day my Uncle stayed at their home, and actually tried to prevent me from leaving, demanding that I do the chores a third time before I was allowed to leave for the day. Well, I most certainly had had enough." Potter replied, trailing off as he remembered something with a smirk.

Lucius had some inclination as to what may have happened afterward, "Should we expect a Ministry owl to appear sometime, reprimanding you for use of magic?" he asked, but the boy shook his head.

"No, no, I merely threatened the man with great violence and unleashing my magic if he continued to harass me, but I think the knife that I planted halfway through their dining room table was the lynchpin that finally silenced him." Potter replied with a wicked grin.

Draco laughed, and even Lucius smirked a bit at the mental image of some great filthy muggle gaping as the small wizard slammed a bladed weapon through the thick wooden table, most likely amid the shuddering of various objects that would normally precede accidental magic. "Well, I understand your position entirely then," Narcissa said, rising from her finished plate, "and you are more than welcome to come straight here in future for all your holiday vacations. I cannot bear to think of anyone being so mistreated, especially by muggles…"

"Thank you," Potter replied, bowing his head slightly as he too rose alongside Draco and Lucius to see the lady of the house from the room. Once she had gone the men retook their seats, and the conversation drifted around a few subjects such as Hogwarts and Quidditch, mainly between the two boys while Lucius looked at a few letters and the paper that was brought by a House elf.

After a short time however, Lucius' curiosity finally won the battle within him, and he decided it was time to breach the subject he so desperately wanted answers for. "So," he started slowly, in the lull between the boy's conversations, "Draco has grown quite a bit since he first left for Hogwarts last year, and from what I can gather, it is in large part due to something you showed him Mr. Potter…"

The reaction was almost instant. The boy froze, watching Lucius' every movement, only once flickering to Draco with a cold look that almost screamed betrayal. Lucius shifted slightly to draw the boy's attention back instead, "Naturally Draco has told me nothing, but it is plain to see, as his parent, that he has changed since meeting you, and I would be greatly interested to see what skills you have shared with my son that have brought him so much closer to the man that I always wanted him to become…"

Draco beamed at the praise, but Lucius kept his eyes on Potter, knowing that the boy was probably somewhere between wanting to attack Lucius and attempt to escape, or trying to puzzle how similar he was going to be to Dumbledore. "And if I said there was no real secret that I shared with Draco?" he responded slowly, calculating.

"I would know that you are lying," Lucius responded carefully, "As it is clear from Dumbledore's treatment of you that there is something about you that he fears. And if it's something that the great Headmaster of Hogwart's fears, then I deeply desire to know all about it, to see whether the man is justified or just as out of his mind as normal…"

The boy seemed quite unconvinced, so Lucius tried another tactic, "How much do you know about my family, Mr. Potter?" he asked, turning back to his meal for a moment or two.

"Aside from what little Draco has told me, next to nothing," the boy replied honestly.

"Then allow me to inform you of some of the truth of our recent history, The Dark Lord, the same that killed your family, came to many of the pureblood households in the early stages of the war, back when my father Abraxas Malfoy was head of the family, and demanded their loyalty to his cause. He promised many things, power, wealth, a retaking of our heritage from the encroaching muggleborns and their supporters, among other things. My father was enthralled with the Dark Lord, and eagerly took the man's mark, becoming his servant. And when I was old enough, I too took the mark, although at the time I had little idea what I was truly joining myself to."

Pausing to brush his lips with a napkin, Lucius continued, "The Dark Lord was powerful, yes, but as I soon found out he was quite insane, ready to slaughter purebloods along with muggleborns, or whoever else stood in his way. To say that it was an enjoyable time of my life would indeed be lying. At the end of the war, when Draco was only a year old, I truly lived in fear of the man myself, knowing that in time he would demand my only child to serve him."

Potter was listening, and Lucius sighed once as he continued, "But then the business in Godric's Hollow occurred, and you banished the man from the world, indeed freeing myself and many such forced servants to his madness. Many of those would even now renounce the Dark Lord, but we still fear he may rise again, as he was fond of telling his followers how he had even surpassed death itself. A decade of fear, wherein you had disappeared and so had he. But now," and Lucius paused to look directly into the emerald green eyes, "We might have found our new leader who can protect us from even the Dark Lord."

Potter waited a few moments, internalizing the information, while Draco sat there, struggling to keep his mouth from hanging open. "You mean to say," Potter started slowly, "that you wish to follow me, in exchange for defense if you old master returns…"

"That would be the start of it, I believe," Lucius confirmed, nodding slowly, "We'd have to have a formal discussion with the others who would enter into this alliance, but as a groundwork that would be the primary connection."

Potter thought for a long moment, before nodding, "I would be agreeable to meeting with the others, and hearing out what their conditions are."

"Excellent," Lucius said, mentally checking off one of his objectives for the boy, "I will gladly make the necessary arrangements, however I can assure you that the others would also want a demonstration of your powers upfront, to know whether our trust is well placed in you. It would be easier if I can vouch for your abilities beforehand, which should pacify some of the more volatile ones to meeting with you."

"What they say is true then…" Potter said, smirking, "if you want someone cunning and poisonous as a viper, ask a Malfoy." Sighing to himself as he pushed away an empty plate, Potter stood, "I agree to your conditions, show me where I can utilize my magic without causing any unwanted damage."

"This way," Lucius said, standing and willingly guiding Potter and his son out of the dining room and toward a ground floor dueling chamber, normally reserved for petty offenses or other old fashioned infractions that demanded trial by combat. The room was mostly disused these days as the practice had fallen out of favor during Lucius' father's days, and had thus been merely standing by idly for someone to use the room.

Once inside, and after bolting and magically locking the door, Lucius gestured for Potter to proceed whenever ready. Taking a deep breath, the boy settled onto the floor for several moments, seeming to meditate before anything. "The wards here are strong, Mr. Malfoy, stronger than I had anticipated, your Ley Lines are perfectly positioned for my use…" the boy said cryptically, which surprised the Malfoy Patriarch. Very few, if any, wizards were able to sense wards, let alone the Ley Lines that powered his manors.

Inhaling sharply, Potter launched to his feet, throwing an arm forward to gesture at a target on the far side of the room, and Lucius gasped as a blast of some dark, shadow-like magic was expelled from the boy's outstretched hand, striking the metal target with the sound of a gong, and cracking the enchanted metal with the force of its impact.

"Magnificent…" Lucius breathed, tasting the Dark Magic that the spell had been comprised of, raw and pure. Potter continued, switching to a fire-based attack that seemed similar in construction to fiendfyre, although far more controlled and reeking of a slightly different brand of dark magic than the former. As the boy continued to demonstrate his abilities, Lucius had already made his decision. Potter was indeed powerful, and with the right assistance could easily overcome the Dark Lord again if the madman returned. House Malfoy could easily fill that need.