Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs to JK Rowling, etc.
A/N: I know you've all been waiting for Harry to take a more active role. Your wait is over soon. Thanks for being patient.
The New Dark Lord
Chapter Eight
The sun was low in the sky when Harry locked the back door behind him. His dog Charlie pulled impatiently on his lead. Harry shook his head, pocketed the key, and allowed the collie to pull him along.
`Good evening Mr. Potter,' a young girl said as he rounded the corner onto the main street. She knelt down to hug Charlie. `Hey boy! Who's a gooood boyyyy!' She giggled as the dog licked her face happily.
`Evening Lucy,' Harry replied, smiling at the sight of little blonde haired girl. `And it's Harry, remember?'
`Right, sorry Mr. P… Harry.' She smiled sheepishly at him.
He laughed. `Don't worry about it.' He met Lucy nearly every day when out taking Charlie for a walk. He wasn't sure how old she was, maybe twelve, thirteen, but the girl always made him smile. She was so cheerful, and always doing something. If he could be sure of getting a kid just like her, he might actually consider having children.
There was a sudden flash of light, making Lucy jump, and a moment later the deep, distant rumble of thunder. Harry looked up at the grey sky. He frowned. There was something in the air…
`That scared me,' Lucy said, standing up, one hand still idly rubbing behind Charlie's ears. `Do you think it's going to rain? I love thunder storms!'
`I don't know,' Harry said. `Lucy, do me a favour?'
`Sure.'
`Go home and stay there.'
Lucy hugged her arms around herself. `Why? Is something wrong?'
`I don't know. Just… please trust me. Do as I say.'
Lucy looked at him long. `Okay. Good night Harry.' And she dashed off home.
Harry watched her go, and then looked back up at the sky. What was this feeling…?
(----)
`So your friend left then,' Grace said, rolling up a sheet of paper.
Hermione looked away from the picture she was studying and over at Grace. `Yeah. He didn't even say goodbye. Just left a note… look, we shouldn't be talking about this. He won't like it.'
They were in the attic of Grace's apartment - her free space, she called it. It was where she worked on her art, mainly designing tattoos, but sometimes painting landscapes, aesthetic pieces, or whatever struck her, depending on her mood. The picture Hermione was staring at was one of the many hillsides overlooking Ambleside, with a beautiful, scenic view of the village below.
`I don't see him,' Grace said cheekily, mockingly looking around. `How's he going to know?'
Hermione shook her head. `You're terrible.'
`Yeah, but you love me.'
`It's just…' Hermione sighed. `I wish I could help him.'
`You never told me what was wrong with him.' Grace came to lean against the wall near Hermione, arms crossed under her breasts. `Drugs? Alcohol?'
Hermione looked down at her shoes. `I wish… I can't say. It's serious. He's… hurting. In so much pain. And I don't know what to say to him. I try, but… he's stubborn. Harry says we can't push him. That it just won't work with Draco. He's right. But sitting around doing nothing isn't working either. He… Draco is changing. He's not the same person he was in school. I look at him and… I don't like what I see. He scares me sometimes… the look in his eyes…' Hermione sucked in a sob.
`He's not so scary,' Grace objected. `Like all bullies, he's weak really.'
Hermione looked up in surprise. `What does that mean? Did you speak to him?'
Grace shrugged dismissively.
`You did. You confronted him!'
`And he ran home with his tail between his legs,' Grace said, a little smugly, `just like I knew he would.' Grace held up her hand like a platter, hand poised as if grasping something. There was nothing there. `See these?'
`What?' Hermione looked confused.
`These are his balls,' Grace said with a chuckle, and dropped her hand.
Hermione stared at her in disbelief. `You have no idea how lucky you are Grace. Honestly… my God… I can't believe you did that. Promise me, if you ever see Draco again, do not antagonise him. Please… promise me.'
`Don't be silly. I told you. He's a fluffy little poodle. All bark, no bite, as they say.'
`I'm serious. You might think he's harmless, but he's not!'
Grace snorted. `Yeah, okay, sure.'
Hermione continued to stare, horrified at her friends blasé attitude. Grace had no idea how dangerous Draco could be and Hermione couldn't tell her. She didn't think Draco would hurt Grace, but what she saw during his last visit left her wondering just how much Draco was left. Losing Ginny had changed him so much; he might as well be a totally different person.
And Hermione didn't know that person at all.
(----)
It was dark, wet, and smelly in the cave. Draco wrinkled his nose and cast a silent lumos. His shoes squelched with every sodden step and his red Auror robe dragged through mud. He could hear the waves crashing against the coast behind him and ahead the steady echoing drip of water.
Mallory must be scared if he's willing to live like this in this hellhole, Draco thought. His cold eyes scanned the illuminated darkness, every nook and cranny, in search of his new prey. The truth teller he sought would not elude him.
Burke had quickly confessed the location of Mallory after only a few minor Crucio curses - much to Draco's disappointment. He was hoping he'd at least have the chance to cut off a few body parts. A shame, but what can a wizard do when ones subject is a snivelling, spineless coward? It was probably for the best anyway. Elle had been in the next room and he couldn't afford to let the Ministry find out how far he was willing to go in search of justice. He was sure they wouldn't agree with his more extreme measures. It was one thing to cut off a leg or two in self-defence, but against a powerless wizard… no, it was better this way.
Draco paused as the cave opened out a little into more of a cavern. He shone his wand around the area before stepping cautiously out into the open. Lumos revealed a rolled up sleeping bag, an empty lamp, and several discarded wrappers. Mallory was definitely here. Hiding.
`Nice place you have here Mallory,' Draco said loudly. `Really. It's lovely. Why don't you come out and give me a tour?'
There was no reply, except the steady drip, drip, drip that defined time in this cave.
`Come on. I know you're here. Do you want me to come looking for you? I'm sure you've heard what happens to people I hunt…'
`Alright,' came a weak voice from the darkness. There was a scrape of boot against stone, a pause, and then out stepped the truth teller. He was pale and balding and moved with jerky motions as if one aggressive motion would send him scurrying away like a startled rabbit. `Alright. I'm here. I'll tell you what you want to know, but you must promise not to hurt me, and to leave me here when you leave, and tell no one of my location. I want no part of any of this.'
`I'm not here for you Mallory,' Draco replied. `I couldn't care less what you do. All I want is your information. The truth.'
`As all who seek me do. Sit then.' The old wizard gestured to the floor around his camp as he slowly lowered himself down onto his rolled up sleeping bag.
Draco turned his nose up at the floor. `I'll stand.'
`As you wish. Ask me your questions and I will answer. I want this over and done with and you gone.'
`You know of the mass break out from Azkaban?'
`I do.'
`Who is behind it?'
`A boy.'
`A boy?' Draco rubbed at his stubbly chin, surprise in his eyes. `And the Death Eaters follow him?'
`They do.'
`Why? Tell me everything you know of the boy.'
`Very well, but I know little. His name is Amado Kelzer. He has powers I thought impossible and they are terrible to behold. I was there when he first made himself known. I have seen nothing like it. Even You-Know-Who could not do what this boy did.'
`What did he do?'
`He can somehow assert his will on people without eye contact. It is no Imperious Curse, or at least, it is like none I have ever seen. He made a wizard kill himself.'
`One of the Death Eaters?'
`Yes.'
`Who?'
`Armadus Cohan.'
If Draco didn't know better, he would say Mallory was lying. It didn't make any sense. Why would this Kelzer boy kill a Death Eater?
`Why did he kill him?'
`I do not know.'
`What does he want?'
`That is a difficult question,' Mallory said, closing his eyes.
`Explain.'
`He says he wants pureblood supremacy, but… he is lying.'
`So what does he want?'
Mallory shrugged. `I don't know.'
`What else can you tell me?'
`The biggest truth of all. The boy scares me. No one should have power like he does.'
Draco sighed. `Right. One last thing.'
`Ask away.'
`Where can I find him?'
Mallory regarded Draco as if he were insane, but had no choice but to answer. `Last I knew, he was staying with Antonin Dolohov. You might find him there.'
`Thanks for the help,' Draco said wryly, knowing Mallory had no choice in the matter. He turned to leave, robes swishing, but halted when the truth teller spoke his name.
With his back turned, Draco asked, `What?'
`There is one more thing you should know.'
Draco hesitated. Mallory never offered information. You had to ask for it. For him to do so, it must be important. `Then tell me.'
`The Death Eaters make a move tonight. They will attack and kill Harry Potter.'
Draco whipped around, eyes blazing. `That's not possible!'
`I cannot lie,' Mallory reminded him. `The boy knows Potter's location. I do not know how, but he does. Ambleside will burn tonight.'
Draco clenched his jaw. `No, it won't.'
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