September 20, 1980

"Through the night, my little one, the wind whispers low

Of your father's deeds, to the Dark Lord he goes

Hunting those deemed unworthy, a purging embrace

Yet in my arms, you'll find shelter, a sacred place…"

His mother's voice drifts like a warning to him from up above and he kicks his socked feet in the air banging against the walls of his bassinet in protest. The wind howls fiercely and rain lashes in torrents against the manor windows as if in agreement, yet the manor wards keep them both safe and dry. The curtains do not manage to hold back the pale moonlight from seeping through the inky clouds, casting long, grasping shadows that seem to stretch hungrily toward the bassinet like the hands of the Dark Lord his mother spoke of in her song.

His mother's familiar silhouette moves to pace before the crackling fireplace, her elegant figure taut with worry, as if she too guesses the meaning of those shadows and her inability to stop their progression. Her eyes periodically turn towards the ornate wooden door, as if willing it to open with her glance alone. Thunder booms and lightning lights up the sky, revealing the gauntness of her face and he gives a fierce cry. She rushes towards him, her features softening as she begins another verse of the haunting lullaby.

"Sleep now, my baby, let the shadows conceal

The sins of our kin, that I dare not reveal..."

Her voice is velvet-wrapped steel, simultaneously soothing and laced with melancholy.

"Close your eyes, dear innocent, and dream without fear

For mother's devotion will ever keep you near..."

As the last lyric's refrain fades, there is an explosive splintering of wood. The door flies open with a thunderous bang, admitting a tall, cloaked figure silhouetted by blinding emerald light. Mother gasps, her wand hand raised defensively until she recognises the unmistakable silhouette of Father.

Lucius Malfoy stands framed in the doorway, his robes billowing. The skull-like mask conceals his expression, but he can see his left arm is bared, the vibrant Dark Mark still smouldering upon his pale skin like a haunting brand...

Draco shakes off the images unsettled to think about it after all these years, not sure how he came to relive a memory of when he was a baby.

"You usually give in by now." a sour voice says.

Severus stands in the doorway looking at him with distant curiosity holding Draco's weekly dose of blood. It took him two weeks to succumb to the urge to drink the gruel again, but he came to Severus weak and crawling on his knees. Severus the absolute cock just handed it to him with a sneer. Draco is beginning to suspect that manners are just a veneer for the mudblood.

After the third dose he started calling it blood, feeling like engaging in delusions regarding one's unfortunate life situations was unbecoming for a Malfoy. Or maybe that is just his parents' voice in his head again. It has become impossible to tell the difference between them when they are the only ones talking to him. Even if it is just in endless circles.

He now takes it weekly to avoid becoming so pathetic and vulnerable again. His lip curls in disdain as he gives Severus a cold glare, making it clear how he feels about the sentiment. With a heavy sigh, he reluctantly opens the disgusting muggle book once again, knowing it is the lesser of two evils presented to him. The scent of blood vials fills the air as Severus follows their unsaid procedure and leaves them on the side table.

He wouldn't be reading this muggle book if he didn't believe it to be his only escape from the boredom and loneliness that plague him in this room. The creature inside of him, as he has come to call it, constantly begs for Draco to give in to his animalistic instincts. It wants to run wild through the forest, barefoot and screaming at the moon like a savage beast. It longs to climb trees and rip them from the earth with nothing but its brute strength. These thoughts terrify Draco, yet he feels trapped and hopeless, like a caged animal in this small glass box of a room. And it's all his fault. He failed his parents worse than if he had simply abandoned them to die. At least then Draco would have survived and carried on the family name. But now there was no one left because he didn't know how long he would be trapped here, forced to face the consequences of his actions alone.

Hence the muggle books, the one compromise he needs to make in order to stay sane despite what he knows his father would say.

"A children's book, really Draco?" Severus tries again with a smirk, settling onto the floor due to the lack of furniture, somehow making his relaxing sprawl look elegant.

Draco fights the urge to snort, which he imagines is Severus's goal. Despite the rabbits, who are the central characters, the book is hardly Babbitty Rabbitty and the Cackling Stump. So far most of the characters die due to incompetence of the leadership and it isn't hard for Draco to guess the allusions to muggle society and government the author makes. Even muggles agree that they are inferior and need better leadership. It is palatable for a muggle book, a distraction from Severus's thoughts.

As if reading his mind Severus lowers the shield only seems to be able to keep on his mind. He ignores the tempting buzzing in the back of his head and holds his imaginary occlumency shields higher. He made the mistake of giving into the temptation to follow the odd feeling in the back of his head after his first day coming here and discovered to his horror the creature possessed the ability to read minds. He experienced the unfortunate moment of Zabini climaxing and never wanted to hear anything like that again. He fights against the instinct whenever it rears its ugly head, reminding him too much of the reason why he had such good occlumency shields in the first place. He damned his Aunt Bella to the deepest pits of muggle Hell.

"I find your reading choice interesting, with your desire to have no hand in your fate."

Draco scrunches his face in frustration.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," he says and then curses himself for breaking his vow of silence.

"Based on the way you are acting, I assume then that you would prefer to be one of the dead rabbits in your book," Severus says pouncing.

Draco glares at him in silence as he gets up and grabs one of the glass vials. He takes a drink and represses a shudder at the taste. Squirrel, his least favourite.

"Blaise's hunting scared off all the deer, so we couldn't catch another one for you after he got his bear. We only managed to catch squirrels, but you would have been aware of that if you had joined us." Severus says in a dismissive voice.

Draco scowls as he slams back another vial. While he suspects that the story is true and could check it by taking a trip into Severus's mind, he doesn't think it's the whole truth. He thinks Zabini made more noise on purpose so there would be nothing left, but squirrels. They were trying to freeze him out and it was not going to work. This story would realise soon enough that Draco wasn't willing to participate in it and kick him out of it. He just needed to keep waiting.

Two more weeks pass and he's read all of the books in the house. Much of the book's contents are lost on him due to the muggle terms, but they filled the long tireless hours better than staring at the walls seemed to. By the second set of two weeks, he succumbs to his temptation to listen to his former dorm mates' thoughts. Not that they are very interesting. Nott just reads boring textbooks about muggle history and something called science. Zabini thinks about cars, sex, and hunting in that order. Pansy about clothes and a strange longing to be human. Her jealousy surprises Draco because he never sees her haughtiness as a front to hide an inferiority complex in his world. He also doesn't understand a world where Pansy desires to be a muggle.

He stays out of Loony's, the mudblood's head and Severus's for the most part due to most of his thoughts revolving around blood and muggle medicine which still grosses Draco out.

It's in the middle of the third set of two-week intervals that he breaks from the continued silence and boredom after rereading all the books. He blames his lack of perseverance on the squirrel's blood. He figures talking to Pansy, Zabini and Nott couldn't incorporate him into the story too much, since they must be minor characters.

Draco bursts into Severus's office an hour later.

"No one will talk to me! Make them talk to me!"

Severus looks up from his desk for a moment in irritation, his eyes taking in the taunt lines of Draco's body. His eyes dart back to the strange muggle device in front of him as if he longs to ignore Draco and resume whatever he worked on before.

"You must think highly of my position in this family if you think I can 'make them talk to you'." Severus says with a dark raised bow.

Draco cringes away from the word family. He feels no particular attachment to any of them barring Severus, but enough is enough. He can't take the wall of united silence that the three of his former dorm mates surround themselves in whenever he walks into a room. He still can't believe that his old 'friends' were picking Loony over him. Draco Malfoy! His only option proved to be to talk to Loony or the mudblood both of which he refuses to stoop to.

"But you're…father," Draco says failing to convey the heavy meaning that word holds for him.

Power, respect, an almost yielding sort of fear and now disappointment, but he tries to forget about that last one.

"I am just one member of this household, equal to all others," Severus says in an unimpressed voice.

Draco feels stumped. He'd expected to be able to storm in here and state his problem and Severus would…make it disappear. Much like his father did for him in the past. It hurt a bit to realise that the all-encompassing power ceased to exist in both worlds.

"Have you tried the miraculous solution of apologizing?" Severus draws, interrupting his thoughts.

"I can't do that!"

Severus sighs in a put-upon way and looks away from the metal rectangular device again.

"And why ever not?"

"Then they would have power over me."

"And you are completely free of their power right now?"

Draco thinks for a moment. He reflects on the information Severus gave him and even more on his relationship with his dorm siblings. Or lack of one. A year ago, Draco would have laughed at the notion that one of his peers wouldn't overlook his actions, but now he isn't so sure. He no longer runs to his parents every time someone doesn't like him or refuses to acknowledge his superiority. He knows now what it feels like to experience a fall from grace. In his world, he didn't need anyone's help because he possessed magic and a deep understanding of the inner mechanics of his world. He didn't have magic here and didn't know the first thing about this world. Even he knew he needed help to get back to his parents. His only allies in this unknown place were Severus, Nott, Pansy, and Zabini. He would do well not to keep them mad at him if nothing else than to keep him from going insane from the silence.

"What do I usually do, when I mess up and they are mad at me?" Draco says.

Severus' frown deepens.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Draco asks, stunned.

He may be a manipulative person who uses people to his end, but he always makes sure that there is either some benefit to staying with him or some punishment for leaving. The fact that he just expected them to forgive him when he possessed nothing to hold over them seemed short-sighted to him.

"Given enough time they always forgave you. This time is different though. You aren't you anymore. You forgot them on purpose and that hurts them. You are going to need more than a simple apology to get back into their good graces."

"Then why are Lo-Luna and the mu-Mother talking to me then?" Draco demands in a cross voice.

"They are always the first to forgive you. The reason is beyond me, but imagine it has something to do with love."

Draco scowls, really beginning to hate that word.

"I don't want their love. I don't even need Theo, Pansy and Blaise to like me. I just need them to talk to me." he growls.

Severus just grins at him in a satisfied way.

"They are aware," Severus says, pushing the odd buttons on the muggle device in blurry rapid-fire movements.

And they will use this to force his hand, Draco finishes for him. He would almost respect their tactics if he wasn't on the other end of them.

"So what do I do?" he grumbles

"I believe I answered that question for you a week ago."

Draco thinks back to the scraps of paper and pictures that Severus handed him in his room with a frown.

"Where do I purchase those items?" Draco asks.

Severus gives him a strange look as if not remember the full extent of his 'memory loss'.

"You are still so much yourself I forget sometimes," he says almost to himself, "I am busy at the moment reviewing these patient files, but I am sure your mother would be more than willing to take you shopping."

Draco grimaces at the thought of spending time with the mudblood on purpose, much less engaging in muggle shopping. He decides to sink his pride and try to talk to Nott who seems the most pissed at him and hopes the others fall into line. He groans as he gets up, slumping his shoulders in defeat. His mother would have his head if she saw him right now, but Severus just smirks.

"You're welcome," Severus says in a darkly amused voice as Draco slams the door shut.

Draco finds Nott in what must be his room, judging by the way his scent permeates every inch and the massive bookshelf Draco pilfered during his first miserable weeks here. He still can't believe that Nott succumbed to becoming a blood traitor in this world, but Draco always knew he was too soft. Noty reads a muggle book with a blonde girl in a pinfold chasing a white rabbit on the cover while muggle music plays in the background. Draco sneers at its garish sound. Nott shuts the book at the sound and narrows his eyes at him.

"I have come to apologise, I shouldn't have torn up your darling girlfriend's garden. I will replant it," Draco says in a halting voice.

Nott raises an eyebrow at him as if to say that's it and then raises his middle finger at him and continues to read.

"Wife." Nott hisses.

Draco is not sure what the crass muggle gesture means, but he takes a wild guess that it's insulting.

"You can't ignore me forever." Draco insists.

Nott turns a page in his book. Draco feels a burst of desperation in his chest.

"Pl-ease." Draco tries.

The word feels like a thousand stinging hexes on his tongue but he shoves it out.

Nott sighs as he shuts his book.

"You could plant a thousand new gardens and it wouldn't make a difference because I can tell you aren't sorry for destroying it. It's not even about the garden, not really. Luna would forgive you in a heartbeat, in fact, she already has because she's Luna and she's more than you've ever deserved in a sister. It's that you thought it was your right to let your misery drown you and then leave us the mess to clean up. You never think of anyone but yourself, since the day I met you and I'm sick of it." Nott says in a world-weary voice.

He wants to scream at Nott that he thinks of his parents. That he would kill and die for them, even if it destroyed his soul to keep them safe. It is the entire reason that he is here. But he buries the anger deep down and forces a pleasant smile on his face.

"What can I do to make it up to you then?"

Nott looks like he thinks for a moment, then he says,

"Spend time with mom, she misses you, why I don't know."

Draco clenches his teeth against the desire to say he doesn't know why he spends time with the crazy blood traitor, unless he is brain dead too, but resists.

"Then will you talk to me again?"

"It will be a start," Nott says, opening his book back up and falling silent.

Draco's steps echoed through the glass and wood house as his nose scrunched up in disgust, tracking the scent of the mudblood through the halls. He hates using the creature's instincts; it feels like a violation of nature. Finally, he reaches a door that swings open to reveal a room that reeks of paint and creativity. Vibrant pictures line every inch of the walls, each depicting a different subject with an array of colours that make Draco's eyes ache. His gaze falls upon one in particular - a scene of tall trees surrounding a meadow carpeted in a sea of delicate flowers. In the centre lies Draco, his usually pale form reclined back on his arms with a peaceful expression on his face, contrasting sharply against his usual scowl.

"That's one of my favorites." the mudblood says, and Draco feels himself stiffen.

"It's very beautiful Mrs-mother," Draco says in a clipped voice.

The mudblood gives him a wry smile, "I know you don't remember me Draco, you don't have to pretend for my sake, no matter what my husband may have told you. I can tell it makes you uncomfortable and you aren't as good an actor as you think you are."

Draco grinds his teeth at the insult. He knows for a fact that he is an excellent actor. He just isn't giving his best performance for the benefit of a lesser individual.

"Should I call you then?" Draco spits out.

His hostility doesn't seem to faze the mudblood as she just grins at him and gives him a wink.

"No need to be so formal, Lily works just fine."

Draco gives her a curt nod, his skin tingling with disgust the longer he spends in her dirty presence.

"What can I do for you?" she asks, giving him a determined look.

"I need to buy plants for a new garden," Draco says in a grudging voice.

"I'd be happy to take you, Draco." She says with a beaming smile.

She washes the brush in a cup of water next to her and screws the tops on her paint bottles, humming as she works.

"Do you still remember how to resist the temptation to snack on a succulent mortal morsel?" the mudblood asks in a casual voice.

Draco sputters at her word choice.

The mudblood's face twitches before breaking into a huge grin, a giggle bursting out of her mouth.

"I'm joking, of course, your control is second only to your f- to Severus's. He told me even when you were younger you always managed to resist temptation."

"That's good to know," Draco says, uncomfortable with her friendly personality.

He doesn't know what to make of her joking about their condition or the fact that she seems so calm about him forgetting her. He follows her out of the room and through the window-lined hallways watching as rays of sunlight peeked through the trees and glittered on her skin. She notices his eyes and smiles at him holding her hand up further to the light. She twists it, watching the light refract across the surface. his eyes and smiles at him holding her hand up further to the light. She twists it, watching the light refract across the surface.

"I imagine this is where the myth that vampires avoid the sunlight came from," she says in a mischievous voice as they descend a staircase that takes them to a cavernous space filled with muggle transportation devices.

Rars he thinks they are called, so named for the sound they make when they are turned on. They were like carriages without horses if he remembers correctly. He thinks he remembers Potter crashing a flying one of these into the Whomping Willow in Third Year and barely getting slapped on the wrist for it. Severus was livid and claimed he was just like his arrogant father.

"Yes, I imagine a mu-human would notice that something is off if your skin started glittering like a diamond," Draco says in a snide voice.

The mudblood just laughs the sound echoing off the ceiling.

"This is why places like Forks are amazing places to live. There is almost no sunlight here, so we blend in with ease."

Draco can't help but feel like the mudblood is trying to tell him more than just the wonders of Forks but to appeal to him not to leave. He brushes this thought aside, as impossible. She couldn't possibly care for him, not after the way he treated her. Not for the things he thinks of her. Or maybe Granger is an exception among mudbloods and she is more stupid than he assumed. Either way, she is nothing more than an inconsequential means to an end. They all are. His real parents are the only thing that matters.

The mudblood opens the door to the rar and slides in looking at Draco with confusion when he still stands watching her.

"Are you coming?" She asks with a wicked smile.

Draco's phantom heart races as he fights down the fear bubbling in his throat determined not to show any signs of weakness. The thought of being trapped and killed inside that chaotic contraption sends shivers down his spine. But he forces himself to follow the mudblood's lead, pushing open the door and collapsing into the plush leather seats. As he sinks back, he can't help but be impressed by the luxurious quality of the muggle invention - a fact he would never admit to his father. Suddenly, the mudblood inserts a key into a slot and turns it, unleashing a soft purr that vibrates through the car. Draco's body tenses involuntarily as Mrs. Potter watches him with an amused look. He scowls and clenches his fists, refusing to let this muggle machine intimidate him. After all, he is Draco Abraxas Malfoy - he will not be cowed by anything or anyone.

"You don't remember, cars do you?"

He growls thinking he is close enough.

"No." he bites out.

"That's nothing to be embarrassed about, Draco. They are perfectly safe, don't worry and I'm an excellent driver. Anyways there's not much that can kill us."

The mudblood's voice drones on as the car speeds through the streets, his hand gripping a notch in the door for stability. His ears hear the words but his mind is elsewhere, storing away the information with his quick vampire brain.

Suddenly, the car screeches to a halt in front of a muggle building overflowing with plants. The mudblood confidently exits the vehicle and strides into the building without a care. Draco's hand instinctively reaches for his wand, only to find it missing. It's been six weeks since he was stripped of his magical abilities, and it still feels like a punch to the gut every time he realises it. Reluctantly, he steps out of the car and follows the mudblood inside, dreading what awaits him but knowing he must see this through if he ever wants to regain his powers and get out of this story.

Each step he takes inside fills him with a sense of dread and discomfort. The harsh, fluorescent lights above illuminate every inch of the room, leaving no shadow in which to hide. The walls and floor are an unrelenting white, almost blinding in their sterility. As he inhales deeply, an overpowering mixture of scents assaults his senses - the earthy smell of freshly upturned soil, the sharp tang of various plants and vegetation, and a metallic note that can only be blood. He can feel his primal instincts stirring at the thought of consuming such an alluring fragrance. No thought of human food has crossed his mind since he arrived here, consumed by this desire for blood.

"Draco, keep it together." the mudblood says giving him a shove and he realises he is still as a stone statue.

He tries to get his breathing under control, but every intake fills his lungs with the delectable flavour that hangs in the air.

"Stop breathing, it helps," the mudblood whispers in his ear.

He does, it's not comfortable, but it helps a little.

"Let's see that list of yours." the mudblood says, holding out a pale hand.

Draco digs into his pocket for the crumbled piece of paper and hands it to her, watching her face break out into adoring nostalgia.

"I remember when she wrote this. She was so excited to bring some color to our green-saturated world." the mudblood says with a fond smile.

"She worked so hard on it too. There were so many months when Theo had to remind her to eat because she was so taken with figuring out the perfect formula to get them to grow."

Draco wonders if this tactic of the mudblood is supposed to make him feel guilty. If so, it fails. He feels nothing for Loony's ridiculous garden. It falls short of his mother's masterpiece at the Manor, though most do. He remains silent during this speech either way, following her around as she places plants in an odd metal cart with wheels, marking them off the list as she goes.

"I know you will make it even more beautiful Draco, you are a very talented artist," the mudblood says, laying a hand on Draco's arm.

Draco flinches back at the foul touch of her skin against his and scowls. The mudblood looks embarrassed as if remembering herself, though she looks a little sad.

"I am not an artist." Draco spits out.

Father always sneered at the notion of creating art, claiming it was beneath the Malfoy's status to do anything but collect and consume. To him, the lower class must entertain and amuse their betters like dancing hippogriffs. And as for that Loony girl, it is no surprise that she has sunk to such depths - her dirt-stained hands reflect her lowly place in this world.

"But you play the piano so beautifully, if that's not art I don't know what is."

Draco feels a headache forming if that is even possible for a vampire. In his world, he indeed wrote music and on a rare day when he stayed home while his parents attended a gala without him, he played it, for himself. He never played for anyone else's enjoyment, keeping it well out of the realm of the paupers who slaved away for mere coins.

"I don't play the piano." Draco sneers.

The mudblood gives him another sad look but drops the conversation going back to the list. She seems to force a smile on her face as she says with conviction,

"There are plenty of other hobbies you can pick up."

"I don't want a hobby, I just want to go home," Draco growls under his breath, though he guesses with her superior senses she hears him.

Once they acquire all of the plants the mudblood pays a muggle in front of a peculiar device with flashing lights, not with galleons or even muggle money, but a thin hard rectangular object. The mudblood explains in a voice too low for the muggle to understand that it is a credit card and is connected to the Cullens' bank account. The more she explains about credit cards the more it sounds like magic. How does the card know how much money to draw and how does it know which account to draw it from? Draco leaves the store mystified despite himself and is quick to slap a scowl on his face lest the mudblood mistakes it for fascination. His father would be so disappointed.

Harry reclines on a love-worn couch in Albus Black's living room, sipping from a can of Sprite, debating whether or not to ask Albus to borrow the books he needs for his AP. Lit. class from his extensive library or just break down and buy it. Ginny sits next to him, his legs lying over her lap, playing a game of chess against her father. A 60-Minutes rerun about childhood obesity plays in the background on the television that Harry pretends to watch, but his eyes flick back to the game every few seconds. Ginny moves her black werewolf knight two squares forward and Albus frowns. She looks pretty like this: her red-dyed streaked black hair pulled up in a messy bun, pieces of hair falling into her face, her lip bit in concentration between her lips. Harry sometimes fantasizes about kissing her, but then he risks losing this:

Lazy Saturday afternoons at the Burrow, away from the Dursleys. Plus it would break the no-dating rule he set a month before he moved here.

Albus counters his white vampire rook, cutting off her next move. The board is a Halloween chess addition, playing on the rivalry between vampire and werewolf fans. Ginny always plays as the werewolves no matter who she plays against. Harry stopped trying to beat either of them, sick of losing to their strategic minds.

Ginny groans as Albus captures her bishop, adding it to a growing pile of black that far outweighs Ginny's meagre pile of white. Albus always wins. A few minutes later the game is over. Ginny scowls as they set the board to rights, she is always a sore loser.

"I hear you will be starting your Senior year at Hogwarts High, Harry," Albus says leaning forward in his wheelchair and looking at Harry with interest.

"Daaaaddd, don't drag Harry into a conversation about work,"

With unwavering determination, Albus weaves his way through the bureaucratic maze of the Bureau of Indian Education. As the leader of The Order of the Phoenix homeschool organization, he is relentless in his pursuit to provide top-notch supplies and curriculum for the children of the Balsam Tribe. He pulls strings and calls in favors from local and corporate businesses, as well as works with other tribes in the area, using his natural charm to secure deals and partnerships that rival even the most prestigious public schools in the area. While battling with the unyielding Dolorous Umbridge for resources, Albus also utilizes his connections to rally support from the community and government officials. His efforts are often bolstered by the appearance of his friend Harry Swan, whose celebrity status draws even more attention to their cause at rallies organized by Albus himself.

"Yeah," Harry says, not looking forward to starting school and losing time with Ginny, his only real friend in Forks.

"It is hardly spying on the enemy to ask questions," Albus says, his black eyes twinkling.

Ginny groans, "But school is so boring, especially since he has to read all those dusty old classics by those dead old white dudes. I don't know how anyone could enjoy reading them, but it's an absolute disgrace that Harry does when he could be reading books by Sherman Alexie or Angeline Boulley. Though I'd much rather be in the garage either way."

Albus gives Ginny an exasperated look. While he is supportive of Ginny's all-girl motorcycle gang the Holyhead Harpies and her work to refurbish and sell old cars and motorcycles, he wants her to go to college. Ginny wants to go into the mechanic trade. It's been a point of contention between them for years.

"There's nothing wrong with liking reading Ginny," Albus replies with a tense laugh.

"I have read both of those books in my free time outside of class and I agree they are great reads. Some of the classics aren't too bad. I read Paradise Lost over the summer it's about-" Harry starts to say.

"Harry let's try out your new bike on the track, I bet she can make it even higher on that one jump than your Nimbus 2000." Ginny interrupts with an eager look on her face.

Harry checks his watch, one of his few reminders of his dad and frowns.

"I should probably be back to the Dursleys', I need to make dinner."

"Can't they make dinner for themselves for once?"

They go through this conversation every time he comes over, Ginny saying that the Dursleys mistreated Harry during the summers he stayed with them and Harry insisting that he was fine. He made sure not to allow details of his life there to slip out after the first time. From the knowing look in Albus's eyes, Harry suspects that he knows there is more than Harry lets on about the situation, but he never pushes Harry for details. A fact Harry always feels grateful for.

"You know my aunt; she would probably burn the kitchen down if left to her own devices." He says with a forced laugh.

"Right," Ginny says in a doubtful voice.

Ginny's eyes light up a second later and she jumps up from the couch and runs to her room, knocking Harry's legs off her lap.

"I'll be right back," she calls over her shoulder.

Albus gives her an indulgent smile as he watches her disappear for a few minutes, the sounds of shifting clothes and boxes floating from the open door.

"She's been excited about this surprise for a while," he says.

Harry opens his mouth to reply, but Ginny reappears holding up a black leather jacket, the name Harry printed in a green stylized script in front of the shoulder. Ginny blushes and she tosses it at him as she says,

"I thought maybe you would want your own jacket now that you are here full time, so you could help me advertise,"

Harry catches the jacket, still maintaining his reflexes despite his lack of practice. He turns the jacket over and smiles despite himself as he sees the yellow bird claw surrounded by green stitched into the back, the words Honorary Member of the Holyhead Harpies around the emblem.

"You can't be an official member due to the unfortunate status of your sex, but you'll make a nice walking billboard."

Harry snorts as he shrugs the jacket on.

"Thanks, Gin," he says standing up and giving her and then Albus a hug, "But as great as this has been though I need to go."

He walks down the steps when runs into Sybil who works at the the city council and often visits Albus to give him a heads up on Dolores's moves, somehow always seeming to guess her actions before even Dolores does. Sybil startles her eyes focusing on Harry and clouding over.

"Sybil I'm so sorry I didn't see you there-"

"When the moon and the sun align, and spare is killed. The hunter will pierce the snake that wears the skin of the lion and the fox shall decide who lives and dies." she intones in a haunting voice.

Sybil blinks and her eyes return to normal,

"Oh, Harry didn't see you there," she says with a tittering laugh, patting his shoulder as she steps around him.

He stares at the spot where she stands with wide eyes and shakes his head. It's probably nothing he thinks as he gets on his Firebolt, and its engine starts with a rumbling purr. It's probably nothing.

Draco holds his upturned palm out to Loony, and she pours more seeds into his hand. He dumps the seeds into the hole he just dug and holds the dropper filled with his blood over it. He squeezes out three drops and then shoves the dirt back over it.

"I think that this is the last one," Loony says as she dusts off her snow-white knees.

Draco stands back, his chest still as he surveys their handiwork. The once beautiful garden is still a mere shadow of its former glory, broken by his own destructive hands. But with each step in the restoration process, a small sense of satisfaction blossoms within him, surprising even himself. His mother's gentle voice echoes in his mind, urging him to take pride in the garden and carry on her legacy. He can almost feel her disappointment at his current actions. But it is his father's cruel sneer that haunts him the most, a constant reminder of his failure as both a son and a Malfoy heir. A sickening knot forms in Draco's stomach as he imagines facing his father's disapproving gaze once again.

"Draco, this looks amazing!" the mudblood exclaims walking out into the garden.

"Thanks…Lily." Draco says and tries not to shudder at her name falling out of his lips.

Draco put up with her company because he knew he needed to make an effort with her to not completely isolate his 'siblings' but he didn't enjoy it. The mudblood was too…sweet. It threw him off and made him feel wrong-footed. Somehow, he suspects that the mudblood knew this; and it only encourages her to try even harder to be nice to him. He misses Potter, he is so easy to hate and to make him explode in fiery anger.

"Luna, can you take a little more off my nose? It looks a little…"

"Pug like."

"Blaise."

"But that's just the way it looks dearest."

"Ow!" Zabini exclaims.

"I'm married to a brute," Pansy mutters as she stands by her statue frowning at the nose with distaste.

"And I'm married to a harpy." Blaise shoots back.

"Where's my statue, Lo-una?" Draco interrupts long since used to their bickering even before he found himself trapped in this book.

Loony looks up from where she twined herself around Nott with a small frown.

"Your's isn't ready yet," she says.

"Why?" Draco demands, feeling overlooked when he sees all of his siblings' statues scattered around the new garden.

"She probably couldn't get your pointy nose right without it breaking off," Pansy says with a cackle.

Draco growls at her, but it's all for show. Secretly he is thrilled that they are reluctantly talking to him again. He never realised how much he enjoyed their company until they withheld it. They still claim to not have forgiven him for the garden, but Draco thinks they are on their way to it. Loony shakes her head and frowns.

"I'm waiting for something, but I'm not sure yet what it is. Just a feeling that something is missing and I won't be able to complete it until it shows up."

"Ugh, I'm hungry." Pansy groans as she lays back in the sun.

It is a rare day of sunlight and the beams bounce off her skin in dazzling rays of light. She looks like a sculpture made from diamonds.

Nott pulls out what Draco learned is a phone, which is a muggle communication device that mixes patronus and Firecalls as far as he can tell. He refuses to use his, much to his siblings' annoyance, Draco doesn't need to see his father's face to know how he would feel about him using a muggle device no matter its supposed practical uses. It made him ache for his magic back, almost as much as he ached for his parents and their ancestral home.

"I'll text the group chat and tell them we want dinner," Nott says, and a few seconds later the chunk of metal in his pocket buzzes.

"Can you believe we all lived in a world without phones?" Pansy says.

"And television," Zabini says.

"And computers," Loony says.

"And radio," Severus says in a wry voice as he steps into the garden.

"Yes we get it Dad you are the ultimate old fart," Pansy says, and Draco tenses waiting for Severus's response, Severus the bitter old coot never knew how to take a joke.

To Draco's surprise, he chuckles.

"Jokes on all of you. I was around for all of those things." the mudblood says, appearing out of nowhere to stand beside Severus.

"Wait Mom, does that make you dad's trophy wife since you are so much younger than him?" Zabini asks with a smirk.

The mudblood pretends to look offended.

"The only way I'm like a trophy is all the cases I won this week in court." the mudblood replies.

Draco also learned in the last few weeks that like Severus, the mudblood works in the muggle version of the Wizengot to save people from 'domestic abuse' with evidence and fancy speeches. He is still not sure why either of them works when they seem to have as much money as his family. Neither one of his parents ever sunk so low as to hold a profession or work long hours to improve someone else's life. Draco thankfully is not expected to seek out one of these professions, though he is expected to go to something called high school which according to Zabini is little better.

"Race you," Pansy says, jumping to her feet and running into the woods.

Draco realises he missed the rest of the conversation due to his daydreaming. His siblings do not seem to notice or mind, so he assumes it seems part of his usual behaviour. Not that he is sure he wants to imitate his old vampire self anyway since he seems such a bore, always moping and drinking.

"No fair, Pansy!" Zabini yells, taking off after her.

Nott, Loony and Severus follow quickly on the heels of Zabini. Draco watches them with trepidation unsure about his vampire powers. He assumes they will come naturally to him if he only uses them, but it still feels like a betrayal to everything he is as a Malfoy and Pureblood to use the power of an inferior dirty creature. As if he is embracing it and his situation. He doesn't want to tempt the storyline to lock him in. But the Slytherin in him knows that he needs every advantage he can get. He is sure his father would agree.

"Are you coming, Draco?" the mudblood asks with a worried expression on her face.

"Yes," Draco says, hoping that running comes instinctually or he is going to make a fool of himself and in front of a mudblood no less.

The mudblood, her hand outstretched, waits patiently for Draco to grasp it. With a resigned sigh, he reaches out and takes it. She takes off in a blur, her lithe movements fluid and graceful compared to his clumsy ones. He stumbles after her, trying to keep up as she leads him swiftly through the forest.

Draco's limbs feel ungainly and awkward in his new body, but the mudblood doesn't seem to notice. Suddenly, he slams into a tree with a loud crack. In horror, he watches as a domino effect occurs - one tree knocking into another until five trees come crashing down with a resounding thud. The mudblood stops and turns around, regarding him with a serious expression and a twitch of her lip.

Fear swirls through Draco, images of the mudblood and Severus's disapproving faces flashing before his eyes. His mouth hangs open in shock as she snorts and bursts into laughter.

For a moment, all Draco does is stare at her in disbelief. But then, despite himself, he starts to laugh too. Their mirth fills the forest, momentarily drowning out all other sounds. Amidst their chuckles and gasps for air, Draco realises that he missed the sound.

"That's a new record," she says between helpless giggles.

Draco makes an unintelligible noise.

"Your last record was three I think," she says with a shake of her head, "Come on let's catch up to the others before Blaise steals your mountain lion."

The mudblood takes off again and Draco follows her, his movements now more graceful and coordinated as he navigates around the trees with ease. As he ran, a sense of freedom and exhilaration washed over him, bringing a rare smile to his usually stoic face. It's like flying, but without a broomstick, and it's invigorating. He laughs at the adrenaline rush coursing through his veins, temporarily forgetting about the war and all its chaos. With a swift kick of his leg, he effortlessly turns a tree stump into splinters, feeling a surge of strength and power course through him. Flowers appear to bloom in slow motion around him and insects fly at a snail's pace. He can see every dirt particle in the air and taste the rain that is about to fall. It's like being in sync with the world around him.

But then, an unfamiliar scent catches his attention - not mouthwatering, but edible. An innate impulse kicks in and Draco knows he must follow this scent to find sustenance and quell the burning sensation in the back of his throat. He picks up speed, hunger intensifying with each breath filled with the irresistible aroma.

The overpowering smell leads him to the base of a towering mountain, its jagged rocks looming above him. With unwavering balance and strength, he grapples his way up the treacherous terrain, his movements fluid and precise. A savage smile curls at his lips as he imagines the power he holds now - one touch from him and every bone in Potter's pathetic Chosen One body will shatter.

Finally reaching the summit, he sees Zabini stalking towards a large dusty brown cat with rippling muscles, backed into a corner on an outcropping ledge. The creature hisses at them in warning, its sharp teeth bared. In his wizard form, Draco would have been cowering in fear, but the powerful thrum in his muscles assures him that he is no longer human. The alluring scent that had led him here surrounds the beast like a misty mirage, beckoning him forward in a drunken stumble.

Zabini lunges for the cat at the same time as Draco, but Draco's sheer force knocks him off course, reminiscent of their days playing Quidditch. They tumble off the side of the mountain and crash onto the ground below with a loud thud. Quickly recovering, Draco pushes off of Zabini and begins climbing back up, his eyes fixed on the elusive cat like it's a golden snitch. Frustration bubbles within him as the creature scurries into a crevice between rocks, evading capture once again

"Oh no you don't," Zabini growls, "I saw it first."

He grabs onto Draco's ankle and tries to yank him down, but Draco escapes from his grasp shoving the back of his heel into Zabini's jaw with a hard bang.

"Damn you," Zabini mutters, as Draco blurs his way back up.

Draco pounds with waves of sudo adrenaline as he stalks towards the dark cave, his eyes adjusting to the shadows and allowing him to see every detail around him. The scent of the lion fills his nostrils, fueling his primal instinct to hunt and conquer. He sees a shift of fur in and shadows and stiffens. He pounces on the creature, feeling its fur, muscle, and bones crunch beneath his weight as they crash to the hard cave floor. Draco's skin feels impenetrable, as it tries to strike back with razor-sharp claws, and he relishes in the thrill of invincibility as they bounce harmlessly off him. He loosens his grip, savouring the fight for a moment longer before allowing the lion to rise and push him back with pathetic bites that barely graze his throat. In a moment of pure animalistic pleasure, Draco sinks his teeth into the lion's foot, tasting its hot blood and moaning in ecstasy. He lets it escape briefly before pouncing on it again, pinning it down as he straddles its stomach.

In this moment, he imagines it is not a lion beneath him, but Potter himself - struggling against him in a pitiful attempt to break free. He envisions running his hands through a mane of silky dark hair instead of coarse fur, pulling him close as he kisses and nips at Potter's neck. He teases the pulse point with his teeth, driving them both wild with desire as he listens for that final gasp of defeat, of surrender before tearing into the flesh. Draco wraps a vice-like grip around Potter's neck drawing his body closer and grinding into it as he guzzles pint after pint of liquid until the body slumps, falling still under him.

Leaving the corpse behind, he walks out to find his dorm mates watching Zabini battle a bear on a rock outcropping. Pansy, Nott, and Severus sit off to the side with cool analytical gazes, while Pansy scowls up at Draco with disdain.

"You couldn't have lasted one more minute?" she complains.

Draco shrugs his shoulders in a careless gesture but in reality, he pictures his father lording over him after Slytherin lost a Quidditch match to Hufflepuff because he caught the snitch too early. The punishment for that left him without a box of chocolate from his mother for a month. He shoves the flashback away and instead analyses what happened in his mind in that cave a few seconds ago. The startling vivid image he conjured of Potter under him. The only thing he ever wanted from Potter was his pain and suffering, or so he always believed. He feels strangely scared like he crossed some uncrossable line when he pictured Potter under him in such a vulnerable position. Nott breaks him away from his thoughts by giving him a rare smile.

"You were perfect Draco," Nott says, his voice oddly soothing, washing his fears away.

Nott turns to Pansy with a wicked smile.

"I'll take your Amazon stock please."

Pansy sighs, "Why am I not surprised that the nerd wants the book stock."

Nott exchanges a secretive wink with Luna, "I don't know I have a good feeling about that company."

Pansy wears an infuriated expression, "That's cheating you bastard. Father tell him he's not allowed to use his wife's insider knowledge to interfere with our bets."

"I didn't use it to win the bet, I used it to take advantage of winning the bet," Nott says in an aggrieved voice.

A death knell of a roar rips through the clearing, and a small smile spreads on Severus's face.

Pansy groans down at the stopwatch.

"So what do you want, father?" she asks in a put-out voice.

"For you to help your mother with the Pulaski case. You know she's stuck on that one and will refuse to take a break until she figures it out."

"Ugh…fine. But this is hardly fair, that's practically a reward for him, all that boring research in dusty law libraries."

"Theo won't be helping you, he will be working with me in my lab, improving his tolerance," Snape says in a matter-of-fact voice.

Nott blaunches, "Can't we switch?"

"Growth is at the edge of your comfort zone." mudblood calls back in a cheery voice.

If you say so, Draco hears Pansy mutter under her breath. Zabini vaults up the side of the mountain and zooms over to Pansy, depositing a kiss on her lips. Draco relaxes back on his hands, content to listen to their bickering.

That night Draco runs through the forest near the Cullen's house, testing the limits of his powers. He comes upon a clearing and pauses, to watch the strange show. Loony twirls barefoot through the tall grass, her arms flung out wide as if conducting an invisible orchestra, strange lights flashing around her. She looks utterly at peace, like a wood sprite dancing among the wildflowers.

"You seem awfully cheerful for a vampire," Draco remarks, finally announcing his presence.

Loony ceases her spinning and smiles serenely at him.

"And you seem rather glum for one. Did the fireflies steal your sense of wonder?"

Draco scoffs at her nonsensical ramblings as usual. Fireflies were a made-up thing.

"I'm not meant for this life, Lo-Luna. Surely you can understand that?"

He tilts his head up at the stars avoiding her no doubt judgmental gaze. They shine bright above them laughing at the situation he got himself in.

"On the contrary," Luna replies in that infuriatingly calm tone, "I feel more attuned to my destiny than ever before as an immortal child of the night."

She drifts closer, her eyes looking like stars in the moonlight.

"Don't you realize the extraordinary freedom our condition allows? We're unburdened by the limitations and prejudices that shackled us before."

Draco opens his mouth to protest, but Luna keeps musing.

"In my life before my visions were blurry and uncompleted. My parents thought that I was crazy, and locked me away for it. When I awoke in my new life, I'd never felt such clarity. The mysteries of the universe were finally laid bare before my awakened eyes."

"Is that so?" Draco can't resist playing along, an edge of sarcasm in his tone. "And what great truths did you uncover, Oh Enlightened One?"

Luna doesn't rise to the bait, her gaze seeming to bore straight through his sneering mask.

"That all lives are precious and interconnected, from the faun to the shark to the deathly wolf. We're all exposed threads in the inescapable tapestry of existence."

She cocks her head, studying Draco intently.

"You could unravel yourself from the tangled knots of your past. Allow your spirit to be rewoven into a new, vibrant pattern embracing all of nature's glorious oddities, Draco Malfoy."

Draco's mocking retort dies on his lips as Luna's words somehow say what he asked the stars for, albeit using more flowery language.

She extends her hand invitingly.

"Will you dance amidst the fireflies with me? It's ever so lonely twirling alone, you know..."

Draco stares at Luna's outstretched hand, every fibre of his upbringing screaming at him to reject this bizarre girl's invitation. And yet, he feels an undeniable pull towards her - a craving to understand the effortless peace she seems to have found amid their circumstances.

"Oh, what the hell," he mutters under his breath.

Draco reaches out and grasps Luna's hand.

Surprised delight crosses her face as she pulls him firmly into the moonlit clearing. Without warning, Luna begins twirling and swaying in a series of eccentric, freeform dance moves. Draco watches, dumbfounded, as she mimes lassoing falling stars and chasing the yellow glowing lights.

"You're mad, Luna!" he sputters, unable to stifle an incredulous chuckle.

Luna doesn't miss a beat, her bare feet whisking up clouds of pollen.

"Madness is just another word for unbridled imagination, my friend. An undervalued trait in this modern world of ours."

She extends her arms and arches backwards in a dramatic spiral.

"We're creatures of the night now, Draco! Don't you feel it thrumming in your veins - that electric hum of the universe?"

Before he could protest, Luna grabs his hands and spins them both in a dizzying circle.

"Let your feral spirit run wild and untamed under the moon's elegant gaze!"

The words are utterly barmy, and yet Draco is breathless from the ebullient energy coursing through Luna's lithe form. Despite himself, he feels his lips quirking into a grudging smirk as they whirl and cavort through the tall grass.

Maybe something is intoxicating about surrendering to the present moment instead of agonizing over the past and future. As Luna's peals of delighted laughter wash over him, Draco can almost taste the exhilarating freedom she embodies.

When at last they collapse in a boneless heap amid the wildflowers, Draco finds himself grinning at the girl he'd once derided as a raving lunatic.

"You're absolutely cracked, you know that?" he says, not unkindly.

Luna's eyes dance with mirth.

"And you're still fighting against the glorious, untamed force that's awakening within your soul. But I'll help coax it into the light."

In that moment, Draco feels a glimmer of what could be - an existence unchained from a stifling heritage of expectation. He is tentatively intrigued to explore where this bizarre new path with Loony can lead.

Loony's breath catches in her throat, her eyes wide with shock as the colour drains from her face. Her features contort into a blank mask, her body going limp as if in a trance. In a split second, Draco is by her side wondering if he needs to get Nott. But she doesn't faint - instead, her eyelids flutter shut and her lips move in a silent chant, the only audible word being a desperate whisper of "Harry,"

Draco's heart skips a beat as he watches Loony's strange reaction. He had seen her in moments like this before.

He hesitates for a minute, then decides it is his right to understand what is going on and dives into her mind.

He feels the tension in the vision, like an electric current that seems to emanate from the very core of her being. A realisation washes over him as he sees himself standing next to Potter, a dreamy look in his eyes. His world is flipped upside down, and he no longer can ignore the feeling that Potter has somehow become a vital piece to his story. As the scene further unfolds in his mind, Draco can't help but feel a sense of unease, a gnawing feeling that the universe is conspiring against them all. It is impossible to see him fail his parents.

He glances over at Nott who appears at the edge of the clearing seeming to sense Loony's visions as they happen. In that instant, Draco sees that Theo like him can feel how vitally linked they all are by this moment.

Only Draco knows he needs to seduce and kill Harry Potter to set things right.

"Are you settling in okay, cub?"

"Yeah, I've mostly been hanging on the Rez, with Ginny," Harry says, folding his arm back behind his head as a pillow.

"How is she then?" Sirius asks and Harry can practically hear his excited tapping on the table over the phone.

"She's beautiful Sirius. I love her," he says shifting himself on the hard bed, trying to get comfortable.

"I always knew you had a crush on Ginny, but you two are moving fast," Sirius says and Harry can hear the smile in her voice.

"Sirius!" Harry hisses and hears Sirius cracking up on the other end of the line.

"I know. I know you meant the bike. You have to let me have my fun,"

Harry groans but lets it go.

"We've been riding the tracks, testing her limits,"

"Well don't go getting into too much trouble now," Sirius chuckles,

"Though I reckon you could use a bit of fun after being cooped up with your aunt and uncle all summer."

Harry smiles wryly.

"You don't know the half of it. But hey, I actually called because...well, I had another one of those dreams last night."

There is a concerned pause on the other end.

"The ones about that unopenable doors again?"

The ones where you woke up screaming bloody murder, he doesn't say.

He nods even though Sirius can't see.

Harry explains, "Yeah…but I got it open this time and was walking through all these strange rooms. There was one with an aquarium filled with green liquid and brains, a room with a fountain that smelled like apples and mint and another with all these strange talking glass spheres filled with swirling clouds."

He describes the details of the bizarre dream, wondering if Sirius has any insight. As his godfather, Sirius has become someone Harry confides his strange visions in because knowing it makes Sirius feel important.

"Where do you come up with these things, kid," Sirius says with a laugh once Harry finishes. "Could be nothing, but could be your mind trying to tell you something too..."

"To eat more apples?" Harry jokes as he hears Padfoot bark in the background and Remus, telling him he is a good boy.

"Probably. Mooney would say they keep the doctor away," Sirius says with a put-upon sigh.

"Not as well as wearing a helmet would," Remus grouses in the background.

"But I like to feel the wind in my hair when I ride," Sirius whines.

"You are such a dog," Remus jokes.

"Woof,"

Harry grimaces, while he suspects things about Sirius and Remus's bedroom activities he never wanted to know more about their sex lives than he had to.

There is silence on the other side of the phone connection and for a minute wonders if Sirius hung up. Then he hears the wet sound of kissing and creaking of furniture mixed with the rough sound of pants. Harry grimaces as he hangs up. This is why he came to Forks in the first place. To give them some space. Sirius deserved it after having Harry thrust on him after he got out of prison, for a crime he didn't even commit. He pulls out his portable CD player and slides the headphones over his head, pushing play. The Linkin Park CD, that Remus gave him for his birthday plays over the speakers blurring out his thoughts and emotions. A loud knocking jars him out of his peaceful state a few minutes later and Dudley screams through the door,

"Mom says you better start on dinner, or else!"

Harry sighs as he climbs out of the bed, reminding himself again that he is doing this for Sirius.