The New Dark Lord

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs to JK Rowling, etc.

A/N: Here is a little teaser for my next Harry Potter fic. I’ve got some good ideas (I hope), but I guess you guys will be the true judges of that. I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think, and whether or not you think I should continue. Forgive the lame title – I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what to call the damn fic.

Oh, and this prologue takes place before the epilogue for Year of Discord.

He was being hunted by an animal - a damn animal in human form. His feet pounded against stone, sending up invisible splashes of water in the night, the moon hidden behind dark clouds. He couldn’t escape. He tried to Apparate, but he was trapped in, sealed off from the outside by a powerful magical bubble.

Dammit! He didn’t deserve this. How had it all gone so wrong?

He saw an opening in the wall to the left and ducked inside. The old abandoned building was dark - dark enough to hide him for a while. He crouched in the shadows, back against the damp wall, hearing rainwater dripping in periodic patters through a large hole in the ceiling.

He used the time to get his bearings. He was stuck in this forgotten wizarding village, being hunted by a madman. Oh yes, he knew what followed him. He knew its anger. He’d heard the stories. Many of his brothers had come up against this terrible force, and they had barely survived. The stories told of missing limps, men driven insane by the Cruciatus Curse, and even a few that hadn’t survived at all. He didn’t know what he feared more. Being tortured into insanity, or death at the hands of this monster.

The sound of a can rolling down the deserted street made him tense. He felt his heart thumping. Maybe the monster wouldn’t have to kill him. He very well might have a heart attack. His fear drove him from the building. He had to keep moving. He had to escape somehow.

But a part of him knew, no matter how hard he ran, no matter how much he tried, he wouldn’t escape. No one had. He wanted to cry it was so unfair. But no, he would be strong. Maybe he could escape.

Even as the thought entered his mind, a dark shape appeared before him, and he cried out in terror and fell to the cold wet cobblestones beneath. He tried to run, but he was flung up against a wall. He’d already lost his wand. It blew away down the street like the can earlier. He was powerless.

The shape of the hunter appeared before him, ominous in shade. He begged with his eyes and tongue. ‘Please. I didn’t mean it. I was scared. Please. Mercy.’

The monster shook his head. ‘That’s what they all say,’ Draco Malfoy said, raising his wand.

The former Death Eater’s scream echoed in the derelict village.

‘Hey, Malfoy, wait up.’

Draco slowed to let his partner catch up. She came up behind him, jogging, her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, her cheeks red from exercise. ‘So,’ she said, getting her breath, ‘you bagged another one without me, I hear.’

Draco picked up the pace and she jogged lightly after him. ‘I caught his trail. No time to call for back up.’

‘Convenient,’ she said. Elle was a good girl, but she was too damn nosy for Draco’s tastes.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘You know what I mean,’ she said. ‘You never have time to call for back up. I’m your partner Malfoy. We’re supposed to work together. And don’t get me started on how every single one of the Death Eaters you bring in looks like they’ve gone ten rounds with a fucking Mountain Troll. I wonder how that happened, huh?’

‘They resisted,’ Draco said flatly.

‘I bet.’ Elle glared at him. ‘Do you think they won’t notice a pattern? You’re not above the law Draco. Look, I’m just worried about you, that’s all.’

‘Don’t,’ Draco said, stopping and turning to face her. ‘It’s none of your business what I do. Back off. Got it?’

Elle continued to glare at him. ‘Fine,’ she said angrily, turning to storm away from him. ‘Don’t come crying to me when you get suspended, or worse!’

Draco shook his head. Nosy bitch. He successfully put her out of his mind as he entered the Auror offices locker room. He began to get changed. After months of nagging, he’d finally agreed to go visit Harry and Hermione.

‘This is crazy,’ Armadus Cohan said, slamming a hand on the table before him.

The room fell silent.

The old Death Eater glared at the remaining members of Voldemort’s cult. They were a sorry lot, but they were all that was left. He ran a hand through his greying hair, grown long and unkempt in these trying times. He had to keep control; otherwise they would all die, or end up in Azkaban. ‘I know how you all feel. The Malfoy boy hunts us like dogs. I know you’re all afraid. You think you’re next. Maybe you’re right. But…’

‘Cut the crap Cohan,’ another Death Eater interrupted. His name was Greene, and he was a prick, as far as Armadus was concerned. ‘You think you can motivate this lot.’ Greene gestured at the huddled shapes of the remaining Death Eaters, barely over twenty wizards and witches. ‘You’re not the Dark Lord. He’s gone. Accept it. Move on. I have.’

‘Then why did you answer the summons?’ Armadus snapped. ‘You still believe, as I do.’

‘So?’ Greene scowled. ‘I do believe, you’re right, but these… people… they’re nothing without him. Without our Lord’s protection, they can’t do a thing. They’re just a bunch of cowardly worms, waiting to die. You think you can take his place? You can’t.’

‘At least I’m trying. If you’re happy to sit back and let Potter win, happy to spend the rest of your days licking his ass, then be my guest. Leave.’

Greene narrowed his eyes. ‘What did you say to me?’

‘Must I repeat myself?’ Armadus flipped a hand at him, already dismissing the spineless wizard. Greene could call the rest of them cowards, but he was the real coward. Without the Dark Lord, he was willing to go back to pretending. Armadus and the rest – they weren’t cowards. They would carry on. They would do whatever it took to see their Lord’s vision fulfilled, and to see Potter and the Malfoy boy in the ground. He would see that they did.

Greene raised his wand. ‘Say it again fool.’

Armadus gripped his wand underneath his black robes. ‘Leave, coward.’

Greene’s face twisted in anger. Armadus saw the rage in the other Death Eaters eyes, and reacted before Greene, whipping out his wand and firing a Killing Curse. Greene threw up his arms, raised before his eyes, cringing away in a useless attempt to shield himself from death. However, his death was stayed, as a flung chair intercepted the curse at the last minute.

Greene lowered his trembling arms after a few seconds. He looked over towards the door of the dark cabin with the rest of them. Two figures stood there, one tall, the other small and unassuming.

‘What business do you have here?’ Armadus demanded, attempting to regain his composure.

‘You are in charge of this meeting?’ Armadus couldn’t tell which of the figures spoke these words, but the tone was commanding, so he assumed it was the taller of the two.

‘I am,’ he addressed the man.

The smaller figure stepped into the candlelight and lowered a hood. His hair was nearly white, and his face even paler, eyes a dark black. He looked like he belonged in a colourless world, for he appeared entirely in black and white. He was young, surely still attending school.

‘Wrong,’ the boy said. ‘I am.’

Armadus laughed. The child was clearly confused. ‘How did you get here boy? This location is known only to Death Eaters.’

The kid gestured to his companion. ‘I had a guide.’

Armadus blinked in shock as Antonin Dolohov stepped into the light.

‘Dolohov?’ What was going on here?

Antonin Dolohov didn’t even react to his words. He just continued to stare at him like some hypnotised Inferi.

‘What have you done to him?’

‘Oh,’ the boy smiled, ‘he’s fine. I just needed to locate you all. It was easier this way.’

Armadus pointed a finger at the boy. ‘The nerve of this boy. Someone kill him.’ No one moved. Armadus glanced back in surprise. The boy looked up to meet his eyes. A terrible feeling overcame him - a paralysing fear.

‘Kneel,’ the boy said commandingly.

Armadus felt the jolt as his knees crashed into the floor. He gasped and tried to speak, but found his mouth unable to form words.

The child strolled past him and took his seat.

‘You.’ The boy looked at Greene. ‘Sit.’

Greene sat.

‘You’re all directionless,’ the boy said, speaking quietly, but somehow forcefully. He had completely dismissed Armadus. ‘Without a leader, you flounder. Where are the Death Eaters that struck terror into the wizarding world? Surely they do not sit in this room with me? This will change. You listen to me and I will see you returned to your former glory.’

Armadus desperately tried to speak. Who was this child?

‘Do we have an agreement?’

Armadus was amazed when he saw the rest of the room nod in accord. This couldn’t be happening. He was supposed to lead them! Not some brat!

The boy stood and walked around to stand before him. ‘You do not agree?’

Armadus glared at him.

‘Speak.’

Armadus gasped. ‘Who are you?’

‘You’re new Lord,’ the boy said. He cocked his head, smiling eerily. ‘You wish to challenge my authority?’

Armadus felt himself shaking. He couldn’t stop it. ‘What are… you doing… to me?’

‘I’m proving my authority,’ the boy said calmly. ‘It’s unfortunate for you. Stand.’

Armadus stood.

‘Point your wand at your head.’

Armadus did. He was sweating, his eyes bulging, fear leaking from every pore. He couldn’t control his own body. The boy continued to smile at him.

‘Kill yourself.’

He heard himself say the words. It was the last thing he heard.

‘Avada Kedavra.’

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs to JK Rowling, etc.

After finishing Hogwarts, Harry and Hermione decided to leave the wizarding world (and it’s prying eyes) behind. They moved to a small town named Ambleside, just north of Lake Windermere, and opened an old-fashioned sweets shop with the small fortune Harry’s parents had left him.

The main reason for the move was, of course, Harry’s fame, and his obvious distaste for it. He had never been one to enjoy the spotlight, and he never would be. If it weren’t for his desire to end Voldemort’s reign of terror, and avenge his parent’s deaths, he probably would have left the wizarding world a long time ago.

So after he defeated the Dark Lord, it was only a matter of time before he escaped the spotlight. The only reason he finished Hogwarts was because he knew Hermione wouldn’t want to leave before she graduated. It was a struggle for him, especially considering all of the attention he garnered after the fall of Voldemort. He had reporters from every newspaper seeking interviews, and every single eye in the wizarding world on him, even more so than before. He was only able to manage it for her. He had to admit that she was what kept him sane. He needed her.

As for Hermione, after graduating, she was happy enough to follow Harry into his self-imposed exile. While she loved being a witch, she had to acknowledge the wizarding world had cost her a lot - the death of her own parents, most notably.

Then there was the attention she had received, due to her status as Harry Potter’s girlfriend. The first time she had seen her name printed in the papers, and read the articles concerning her, she had felt sick. How could these people speak about her like that? They questioned her worth, whether she had somehow tricked Harry into dating her, and all sorts of other disgusting things. They spoke like they knew her.

She remembered, in particular, shortly after graduation. She and Harry had gone out for drinks with the rest of their friends, Neville with his girlfriend Seraphina, Ron with Luna, and the increasingly more withdrawn Draco Malfoy. They had been trying to enjoy themselves and celebrate their graduation, but one particular reporter would not leave them alone.

As they tried to leave, he bombarded them with questions, while his photographer friend repeatedly blinded them by taking pictures. Eventually, he went too far, and blatantly questioned Hermione’s worthiness. Harry had sent the wizard flying across the bar.

It was the nail in the proverbial coffin. They left the wizarding world shortly after that incident.

Hermione didn’t miss it. She loved the quiet scenic village of Ambleside, the anonymity, and the simple wonder of living an ordinary life. No one knew who Harry was. He was just that guy who owned the sweets shop, and Hermione was just his partner. Life was good. Normal.

‘Hey Hermione, quiet day today?’

‘As always.’

Hermione smiled welcomingly at one of her regular customers. Grace Bellamy came in almost every day. The nineteen-year-old redhead really had a sweet tooth.

‘Just wait until tourist season starts,’ Grace said, returning the smile, ‘you won’t have a free moment.’

‘Honestly, we can’t wait. It’ll be nice to keep busy. Sometimes I think I might just disappear one day, stood here behind this counter doing nothing.’

‘It’s not that bad.’

‘No, I’m just kidding,’ Hermione replied. ‘What can I get you?’

‘Erm…’ Grace tapped her fingers on the counter thoughtfully. ‘I think I’ll go with a bag of pear drops please.’

Hermione grabbed the tub of pear drops, shaking her head. ‘You must have a good dentist.’

Grace laughed. ‘The best. Where’s Harry?’

‘He went to pick up a friend,’ Hermione said.

‘Oh?’

‘Yeah. An old school friend of ours. He’ll be stopping with us for a few days.’

‘That sounds nice.’

Hermione hoped it would be. She couldn’t help but feel that Draco was slipping. He was so reserved these days, more so than ever, and from what she’d heard, he was obsessively, and destructively, hunting down Death Eaters. She worried about him.

Harry said she was overreacting and that they should just let Draco be. He wasn’t doing anyone (except a few Death Eaters) any harm. Hermione disagreed. It wasn’t in her nature to just sit back and let her friends travel down a road of misery.

Harry might be fine to ignore Draco’s pain, but he’d always been like that. It wasn’t that he didn’t care. He just believed in minding his own business. Hermione, however, just couldn’t live that way.

She handed the bag of sweets over the counter. ‘Will that be all?’

‘Yeah, thanks.’ Grace paid and tucked the sweets away in her purse. She paused, studying Hermione. ‘You okay?’

‘Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?’

‘You just looked… I dunno… concerned for a minute.’

‘It’s nothing,’ Hermione replied dismissively.

‘Did you and Harry have a fight or something?’

Hermione laughed. ‘No. We didn’t. Honestly, I’m fine.’

‘Hermione,’ Grace said, ‘I’ve been coming into your shop every day for the past two years. I’d like to think we’re friends. And I can tell when something is bothering you.’

‘You’re a stubborn girl Grace,’ Hermione replied. ‘I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.’

Grace dismissed the comment with a smile. ‘So are you going to tell me what’s going on, or do I have to camp out here all day?’

Shaking her head, Hermione said, ‘it’s about my friend. Draco. He’s just… going through some things. That’s all I can say. And if you see him, don’t mention this conversation, because he’ll kill me.’

‘Fair enough.’ Grace grinned. ‘His name’s really Draco?’

‘And don’t tease him about his name,’ Hermione cautioned. ‘He comes from old fashioned family.’

‘Okay-okay.’

As if summoned, the bell above the shop door jingled, and in walked Draco Malfoy, followed closely by Harry and the energetic collie Charlie.

‘Ah-ah!’ Hermione called out, waving a finger at Harry. ‘Get that dog out! Round back!’

Harry sighed and began to pull a reluctant Charlie from the store. Finally, with one last heave, the door closed behind them. Draco stood with his hands in his pockets, looking around the store without an expression.

Hermione rounded the counter to embrace him. ‘It’s good to see you.’

‘Yeah,’ he replied, patting her back half-heartedly.

Grace cleared her throat.

‘Oh, sorry.’ Hermione gestured to Grace. ‘Draco, this is Grace. Grace – Draco.’

‘Hey Draco,’ Grace said with a teasing smirk.

Hermione shot her a stern look. Grace just shrugged, watching Draco for his reaction. He didn’t even acknowledge her. Instead, he brushed past her and disappeared into the backroom.

‘Rude,’ Grace said, pouting.

‘I warned you,’ Hermione said.

‘Yeah, I know. Sorry. Hey, I’ve got a client at one, so I better get going. Thanks for the sweets.’

‘Okay. Bye.’

After Grace left, Hermione went to find Draco in the back. He was sitting on the couch, fiddling with his wand.

‘Sorry about Grace,’ Hermione said. ‘She didn’t mean anything by it. She’s just like that.’

Draco nodded. ‘Right.’

Hermione came and sat next to him. She turned to face him. He continued to stare forward. ‘Draco, are you…’

‘I’m going to go help Harry with that dog,’ he said suddenly, standing up and quickly leaving the room.

Hermione slumped back into the couch with a sigh. ‘That went well.’

Amado Kelzer surveyed the cramped cabin and the two-dozen Death Eaters packed into it. The animals squatted in filth, reduced to such a state that even cockroaches wouldn’t go near them. The dead body of the murderous, raping degenerate lay at his feet. He turned to the wizard standing behind him.

‘Remove that one.’

Antonin Dolohov moved to immediately carry the dead Death Eater from the cabin.

Amado faced the rest of the room once again. ‘Anyone else wish to die?’

‘No one spoke up. He smiled. Good. They already feared him, even without him pulling on their emotions. It was only right they should, after all.

‘He walked among them, careful not to let them anywhere near his fine white suit, looking down on them, sizing them up. Completing his circuit, he realised that these made up the very dregs of the Death Eater cult. If he wanted to save the wizarding world, he would need to procure the big guns. The Death Eaters sentenced to life in the wizard prison of Azkaban.

‘Dolohov returned to stand in the doorway, imposing as always. Amado could sense him without even turning around. The wizard was under his power and would remain so for the time being.

Amado once again addressed the remaining Death Eaters. ‘Your first task will be to free your brethren from the depravation that is Azkaban. It shouldn’t be too difficult a task for you. Of course, if you fail, you will join Armadus outside this cabin, as a rotting corpse.’ He smiled, enjoying the taste of fear in the air. ‘But I’m sure that won’t happen. Dolohov here will lead the raid.’

‘M-my Lord?’ One of the quivering mass spoke.

‘Yes?’

‘You will not accompany us?’

‘Need I?’

‘Of course not, my Lord,’ the same voice replied with a tremble. ‘W-we will g-get the job done, my Lord.’

Amado continued to smile pleasantly. ‘See that you do. You,’ he pointed at one of the standout Death Eaters, ‘see that they are ready by tomorrow night. Dolohov will be in contact to formalise the operation.’

‘Yes my Lord.’

‘Let us leave,’ Amado said to Dolohov, ‘before I catch something.’

Dolohov moved to open the door. Amado inhaled the clean air, then disappeared with nary a sound.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs to JK Rowling, etc.

A/N: I know, Neville as Herbology Professor, not exactly new, but it really does fit for him. As always, enjoy and let me know what you think.

It was the start of a new year at Hogwarts. The castle had filled with students the day before, but today would be the first day of classes. Neville waited in the number one greenhouse for the arrival of his first class, a group of Gryffindor first years - his own house.

Things had changed so much these last six years since he’d left school. Professor Dumbledore was gone, gone to a location unknown, and Professor McGonagall had stepped up to take his position. That left an opening for Head of Gryffindor, which he had filled.

It might not seem such a drastic change, a few staff alterations, but the effect they had on the castle was great. Professor McGonagall ran things differently than Headmaster Dumbledore.

Not worse - just different.

For so long Dumbledore had been the heart of Hogwarts, injecting cheer into the place whether you liked it or not.

Now he was gone. Neville still wondered where, but had long since realised he would probably never find out.

The first years began to arrive, trickling in, some looking eager, others a little afraid. He remembered the feeling fondly. Smiling welcomingly, he waited for everyone to arrive, and then stood up to introduce himself. The first time he had ever had to do this, he thought he might fall apart (public speaking had never been something he was comfortable with), but that was a long time ago. He was perfectly confident in his role now.

‘Good morning everyone,’ he said, ‘please, find a stool and sit down.’ He waited a few moments and then continued. ‘I’m Professor Longbottom - ’

‘The Longbottom?’ One of the boys interrupted him loudly.

Neville nodded. ‘Yes, the Longbottom.’ He still wasn’t sure he liked the way the world regarded him these days. It seemed anyone viewed as part of Harry Potter’s inner core was seen as a Hero. He could understand how the world could be grateful towards Harry; he had rid them of Voldemort, but Neville had done nothing besides get thrown around like a rag doll for a while. True, he had distracted Voldemort long enough for Harry to finish him off, but it wasn’t exactly something to be proud of. If Harry hadn’t saved him at the last moment, he would be dead right now.

‘Did you really help to defeat You-Know-Who?’ the boy asked eagerly. Everyone was silent, waiting for his response.

‘I was there,’ Neville admitted, ‘but I wouldn’t say I helped. Harry is the real hero.’

‘What was it like?’

‘Scary,’ Neville said. He was about to change the subject, but a barrage of tiny voices prevented him.

‘What’s he like?’ One girl asked breathlessly. She meant Harry. While retreating from the wizarding world might have let him escape the spotlight, it had only enhanced Harry’s reputation. People spoke about him like he was a God. If only they knew the real Harry Potter, he thought, smiling to himself.

‘My mum said he’s gorgeous!’

‘I heard he’s over ten feet tall!’

‘Don’t be stupid; he’s not a giant.’

‘He might as well be.’

‘He could take a giant, that’s for sure.’

‘They say if you get too close, you’ll fry up in his magical powers.’

‘No, if he looks at you, you fry up.’

‘Then why didn’t he just look at You-Know-Who?’

‘Because You-Know-Who was powerful as well.’

‘I heard they nearly destroyed Azkaban when they fought!’

‘Did they really?’ Everyone looked at Neville again, as if expecting him to answer.

He sighed. I’m not going to get anything done today, am I?

Draco found Harry in the backyard, sat on his haunches and playfully wrestling with the energetic collie Charlie. He stopped to lean against the wall and watch. Harry knew he was there, so after a few more tussles he stood up and turned to face his friend.

‘Sick of Hermione already?’ Harry joked.

‘She really isn’t going to let it go, is she.’ It wasn’t really a question.

‘I did warn you,’ Harry said, shrugging.

Draco let out a huff. ‘A guy takes down a few Death Eaters and everyone thinks he’s self-destructing. What the hell is the world coming to?’

‘I don’t care what you do to those Death Eaters,’ Harry said, laughing, ‘but I don’t think that’s what’s bothering Hermione either.’

‘What then?’

‘You’ll have to ask her,’ Harry replied. Draco frowned, obviously not liking that idea. Harry patted him on the shoulder as he passed. ‘I’d rather not get stuck in the middle, so leave me out of it, will you?’

‘Some friend you are,’ Draco complained jokingly.

Harry called back to him as he entered the building, Charlie bounding along after him. ‘Hey, don’t forget, we Slytherins are selfish creatures.’

Draco stood outside for a moment, pondering, and then decided he’d rather not face Hermione yet. He left through the back gate and started walking.

Neville sat, exhausted, as the first years filed out of the greenhouse one by one. He closed his eyes, shaking his head in exasperation. He’d barely covered half of what he intended in his lesson plan. Being seen as a celebrity, even a minor one, was proving to be, well, annoying. No wonder Harry had run away from it all.

‘Erm, excuse me?’ A soft tiny voice spoke out.

Neville opened his eyes and looked at the small girl standing before him, a book held to her chest. He was reminded strongly of Hermione, the way she’d been during their first years at Hogwarts. Back then they’d only had each other for companionship. He felt old, even though he was only twenty-four.

‘Professor Longbottom?’

‘Yeah, sorry,’ he said, coming back to himself. He recognised the girl, because she’d been the only one who hadn’t spoken a single word during the entire class. ‘Can I help you?’

‘I…’ she glanced down shyly. ‘I just wanted to say… I think you are a Hero, sir. You might not see it, but you are.’ She spoke so softly, it was hard to make out the words, but Neville heard them all the same.

‘What’s your name?’

She looked at him, blushing. ‘Leah Brighton, sir.’

Neville smiled, trying to put her at ease. ‘Thank you for the kind words Leah. I have a lot of work to do. Is there anything else I can do for you?’

She shook her head, blonde pigtails bobbing, but she didn’t leave.

‘Are you sure?’

She clutched her book closer. ‘My sister was there,’ she said in her small voice, ‘when you fought You-Know-Who. She told me that the only reason Mr. Potter was able to beat him… was because of you. She said you’re the real Hero. She…’ Leah’s small voice finally failed her and she looked away again.

Neville was confused. ‘Why are you telling me these things Leah?’

‘I…’ She suddenly thrust the book at him.

He took it and read the cover. Realisation dawned.

‘You read it?’

‘All of it.’

After the fall of Voldemort, reporters had all tried in vain to secure the truth behind Harry and those instrumental in bringing down the Dark Lord. Most had failed miserably. However, one dogged individual had somehow managed to piece together most of the pieces. The result was this rare book of facts, entitled Potter and Friends, that detailed the lives of Harry Potter, his best friend Draco Malfoy, the Slayer of Nagini Ron Weasley, and of course, the almost Chosen One Neville Longbottom.

The sections of the book regarding him acted as sort of an unofficial autobiography. It told of his early years, the prophecy, how everyone had thought he was a Squib, his ineptitude and lack of confidence, and his sudden increase in power and eventual role in the final fight between Harry and Voldemort.

‘I think you’re amazing, sir,’ Leah said, and for the first time he understood why she was blushing so furiously, and why she was so shy around him. She had a crush on him. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable. Neville tried to give her the book back. ‘Please, sir, will you sign it?’

‘Uh.’

‘Please?’ She looked at him with large blue eyes.

He couldn’t say no. ‘Okay, but on one condition.’

‘Anything.’

‘You have to agree not to show it to anyone… ever.’

‘Deal.’

Neville flipped open to the front page, grabbed his quill, inked up, and signed. He’d never signed anything, but he couldn’t say no to this girl who reminded him so much of Hermione, and, he had to admit, himself. Maybe that was why she seemed so infatuated with him. She saw in him that she wouldn’t always be shackled by her insecurity. If he could conquer it, so could she.

‘Thank you,’ she said, soft words heartfelt.

‘You’re welcome.’

Maybe celebrity wasn’t all bad.

As Draco walked through Ambleside, out among the Muggles, he had to admit the place was beautiful and charming. It had streets with old-fashioned cobbles, homes covered in climbing vines, and colourful gardens all over the place.

Still, Draco couldn’t imagine living here. The wizarding world was where he belonged, hunting down Death Eaters. He couldn’t wait to get back to it – to get back to work. However, he had promised Hermione, and he couldn’t avoid her forever.

He could avoid her for a little longer though.

He found a quiet park and sat on a wooden bench, leaning his head back and closing his eyes, feeling the breeze on his face. In the distance, he heard kids playing and birds chirping in trees - closer, the faint snapping of twigs and crunching of leaves as someone walked along the crude dirt path.

He listened, expecting to hear them walk straight past him, but they stopped by the bench, and he opened his eyes a slit.

‘Hey there Draco, fancy seeing you here.’

Draco groaned inwardly. It was that irritating girl he’d met earlier in Harry’s shop. He couldn’t remember her name, and he didn’t care to either.

‘Still charming, I see,’ the girl said, and then sat next to him. He opened his eyes and looked at her with a dark look, hoping she’d get the message and leave. She just smiled at him. ‘Enjoying the mild weather?’

He tried to ignore her, but his eyes were invariably drawn back. She raised a fine black eyebrow at him behind her slim black spectacles, a quirky smile on her face. He studied her. She was tiny in stature. Her dark red hair (obviously dyed) fell to cup her heart-shaped face. She dressed like no girl he’d ever seen before. A black leather jacket drowned her small frame, baggy combat pants eclipsed her legs, and huge black boots finished the bizarre outfit.

She dresses like a boy, he realised, frowning. Was this some strange Muggle thing?

Despite this, he did find her visually appealing, and he felt guilty because of it. He averted his eyes, trying to ignore her.

‘You do remember me.’ She made it sound more like a demand than a question. ‘Grace. From Hermione’s shop.’

Draco figured, if he ignored her long enough, she’d leave him alone. He was wrong.

‘Well, you’re certainly chatty,’ she said sarcastically, ‘you must have the girls going crazy for you. What? You think you’re too good to have a conversation with me? Why don’t you take that stick out of your butt, huh? Hermione said you were going through something, but damn, you’re priceless.’

That perked his interest. He looked at her sharply. ‘What did you say?’

‘Praise the Lord, he can speak!’ Grace smirked at him.

‘What did Hermione say?’ Draco clarified, unconsciously clenching his fists.

Grace shrugged. ‘Nothing. So now we’ve ascertained you do have a tongue and you can form words, why don’t you tell me something about yourself? You enjoying Ambleside?’

Draco ignored her and stood up. He didn’t believe it had been nothing. Hermione had been blabbing gossip about him. He indented to find out what. This Grace bint wasn’t going to tell him – he’d gathered that much about her, so he’d have to go to the source.

‘Hey, where are you going?’ Draco heard Grace call after him as he strode back towards Harry’s shop, but he once again ignored her.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs to JK Rowling, etc.

The door to Harry’s sweet shop banged shut behind Draco as he strode into the shop. A customer jumped and turned, clutching her heart. Hermione frowned at him from behind the counter.

‘Draco…?’

‘What the hell have you been telling people about me?’ He demanded to know.

‘Uh.’ Hermione appeared baffled for a moment, before getting herself together. She turned to look apologetically at her customer. ‘I’m so sorry.’ She handed the woman a bag of sweets, which she had been in the process of ringing up. ‘Please. Take them. They’re on the house.’

‘Oh. Thank you.’ The woman rushed out of the shop, obviously uncomfortable.

‘Honestly Draco,’ Hermione said once the door had shut, ‘you can’t just come barging in like that, yelling at me. We’re running a business here.’

‘Does it look like I care?’ Draco pointed at her. ‘You’ve been gossiping about me, haven’t you?’

‘I have no idea what you’re going on about,’ Hermione argued. ‘What gave you that idea?’

‘Your irritating friend told me!’

Hermione’s face paled. ‘Grace?’

‘Whatever her name is,’ Draco said roughly. ‘It doesn’t matter. What have you been telling her?’

‘Nothing, I swear,’ Hermione replied, coming around the counter, her anger at Draco vanishing in her guilt. ‘Draco. I promise. I didn’t say anything.’

‘She knew something,’ Draco accused.

‘Nothing specific. I swear. I just told her…’

‘What?’

‘I told her you were going through something. That’s it.’

Draco turned, raking a hand through his hair.

‘Draco,’ Hermione said weakly, placing a hand on his shoulder. ‘Please. I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have said anything at all. It won’t happen again. I promise.’ His shoulder felt tense under her hand. ‘You forgive me, don’t you?’

He stepped away from her, walking to the door and opening it. ‘Stay out of my business,’ he finally said, and then left the shop once more.

Hermione bit her lip, an old nervous habit of hers. She followed Draco to the door, watching him walk away through the glass window, his back rigid. He didn’t look back. He hadn’t even looked at her as he left. She’d messed up, before she’d even had a chance to try and help him.

Draco was slipping, and it seemed only she cared. Harry couldn’t see it. He said she should mind her own business. Maybe she should. But Hermione wasn’t built that way. She couldn’t just ignore her friend and pretend he wasn’t on a downward spiral.

Sure, he was hunting Death Eaters, and that was a good thing. He brought in more than any other Auror. Only… it was the way they came in that troubled her. They had so obviously been tortured. No one cared, as long as he continued to rake them in. They didn’t care what it was doing to Draco.

It was changing him. He’d never been a very well adjusted guy. He was always moody and cynical. Only now he was impossible. You couldn’t talk to him. He wouldn’t listen. He was so withdrawn he might as well have been on another planet.

Hermione closed up the shop and locked the door. She didn’t have time to run the shop right now. She needed to figure something out. Only she cared enough to save Draco, so she would do it.

Ron dropped the paper in disgust. The question is - when will people learn to just leave Potter alone. They could try and rationalise it all they wanted, but the truth was, he left because of them. It was true, however, that the so called higher ups within the ministry had hidden him away.

Ron’s superior, Head Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, was one of those wizards. Ron wasn’t clear on the specifics. All he knew was that Harry, probably with some nudging from Hermione, had approached the new Minister for Magic (a good wizard by the name of Gerwin Trent) and asked to be left alone by the wizarding world. Trent had obliged, granting Potter his escape from the wizarding world, and preventing anyone outside of the loop from ever finding him.

‘You read it as well?’

A gorgeous blonde haired vixen stood in the doorway of his office - Draco Malfoy’s “partner”, Eloise Noxon, known as Elle to her friends. She sauntered into his room and took a seat opposite him, kicking her feet up on his desk.

‘Fuckin’ load of bollocks, right?’

‘Mostly,’ Ron replied, frowning at her bare feet, ‘but what I’m more concerned about is this apparent source within the Ministry. They must be pretty high up to have that kind of information.’

‘True.’ Elle pulled out a lollipop and started sucking on it suggestively. He was tempted to roll his eyes.

‘Did you want something?’

‘I’ve been thinking about our little Draco problem,’ Elle said around a mouthful.

‘I don’t see we have a problem,’ Ron replied. He wasn’t exactly Malfoy’s best friend, and he honestly didn’t care what the guy did to those Death Eaters. ‘He’s bringing in Death Eaters. So what if they’re a little worse for wear. The bastards murdered my dad… and my sister. Forgive me if I turn a blind eye.’

‘I understand how you feel,’ Elle said, ‘but this isn’t about them. It’s about Draco. You haven’t seen him. You don’t know. I do. I was there once. Ron, he enjoyed it. The look on his face as he tortured that guy… it damn near gave me nightmares, and I’m not squeamish.’

Ron had to admit; he was unsettled by Elle’s words. ‘Have you told anyone else this?’

‘Of course not,’ she said, shaking her head, ‘I don’t know what they’d do to him if I did. Suspend him at least. They might even toss him in Azkaban with the monsters he hunts.’

‘Then I suggest you don’t tell anyone else,’ Ron advised.

‘Sure. But what the fuck are we going to do? You’re not suggesting we just sit back and let this continue?’

‘No. We’ll… we’ll think of something.’

‘That’s nice and vague.’

Ron shrugged. ‘Where is he now?’

‘On holiday at the Potter’s,’ Elle said, ‘wherever that is.’ She wasn’t in on that particular piece of information.

‘Good,’ Ron said, ‘at least there he can’t do anymore damage.’

‘And in the meantime?’

‘We pound our heads together until we think of something.’

‘Sounds fun.’ She gave him one of her patented flirtatious smiles.

Ron held up his only good hand. ‘I’m engaged, remember.’

Elle pouted with the lollipop still in her mouth, wiggling her toes at him. ‘All the nice boys are taken.’

‘Like you care about nice boys,’ Ron shot back teasingly.

‘True.’ She stood up and walked over to the door, swaying her hips for him. At the door, she looked over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow. ‘You sure?’

He showed her his ring finger again.

‘So boring,’ she said, and then left.

Ron shook his head to himself and picked up the paper again. It worried him. He read that line over: Ministry sources indicate…

Draco was angry. He could feel it vibrating through his body, making him shake with rage. Hermione was supposed to be his friend. She was supposed to know him, and respect him, but she clearly didn’t. She had betrayed him. Merlin knows what she had told people about him, and whom she had told it to.

But that wasn’t the worst part.

Draco found a tree and formed a cushion with his arms, leaning forward against it. He took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself.

Back in the shop, he’d wanted to curse her. He had wanted to pull out his wand and strike her. He’d wanted to see her screaming for mercy, pleading for forgiveness. He might have done it as well. He might have actually cursed Hermione. The only thing that had stopped him was the knowledge that he couldn’t. No one besides Harry and Hermione could perform magic in Ambleside. It was part of the wards that kept them safe and hidden from wizardkind.

Draco gave a shuddering breath. There was something very wrong with him. A darkness inside him, eating him up, turning him, and he couldn’t fight it. He tried, but slowly, it was winning. He wasn’t strong enough to keep it at bay. And he knew what it was.

The Dark Arts.

After Ginny had been murdered, he had dabbled in them, and used them to torture Blaise and get his revenge on the wizard responsible for her murder. He thought that would be it. But it wasn’t. They had infested him like a disease. He couldn’t stop using them. Not only that, but he was using them more and more. They were twisting him into something unrecognisable.

He was becoming a monster – just like the Death Eaters he hunted. He recognised this, but, despite his best efforts, he was powerless to stop it. So he tried to keep his friends at a distance, lest he pollute them. His protégée at the Auror Office too. Elle was better off not associating with him. He had tried to get her reassigned, but she always fought it. She said she wanted to be taught by the best.

The girl was a nuisance.

‘Well-well, look who it is.’ Speaking of nuisances. ‘Seems we can’t seem to avoid each other. I guess fate just has other things in mind for us.’

‘Go away,’ Draco said forcefully.

Grace hummed thoughtfully. ‘Nah.’

‘If you don’t leave me alone right now,’ Draco turned his head to glare at her, ‘I’ll make you.’

She crossed her arms, standing with her legs apart, smirking at him. ‘Okay. Make me.’

‘I’m serious. Piss off.’

‘I’m serious too.’ Grace continued to smirk at him with her annoying face. ‘Come on. Make me leave you alone.’

Draco felt his rage building again. He had to get out of here before he did something he’d regret. He went to storm off, but her words stopped him in his tracks.

‘What? Running away again, you coward?’

He didn’t make a conscious decision, but somehow he was acting. He felt his feet propel him forward, his arm raised to smack her, to shut her fat mouth. But his fist never made contact. She blocked it. The next second, he found himself on the floor, the wind knocked out of him. He couldn’t even tell what she had done, but somehow she had countered his attack, and flipped him onto his back. A boot caught him in the face. He tasted blood.

‘Ugh.’ Grace pressed her boot into his neck, not too hard, but hard enough to cause him some discomfort.

‘Listen jackass,’ she said, ‘Hermione is my friend. I don’t know what the hell is going on with you. She refused to tell me. But she is clearly miserable and worried sick about you. I care about my friends. I actually want to help them. So I’m just giving you some advice. Get your act together. Whatever issues you have, deal with them, and stop being such a bastard. Got it?’

‘Get your damn foot off me,’ Draco growled, glaring up at her in embarrassment.

‘You think I’m scared of you?’ Grace laughed derisively. ‘Think again. You don’t impress me. I may not know you that well, but I think I have a pretty good impression of just who you are. You’re an arrogant asshole. I know, I’ve met plenty like you.’

‘You don’t know a thing about me.’

‘Right, because you’re such a mystery. Truth is, I don’t care. My friend is hurting. That’s all I care about.’

Draco scowled at her.

Grace met his look tauntingly. ‘You want to try hitting me again?’

‘Fuck you.’

‘I don’t know what it is that’s bothering you,’ she went on, ignoring his struggles, ‘whether its drugs or alcohol or whatever. It doesn’t matter. Clean yourself up. Whatever it is. And apologise to Hermione. Do I make myself clear?’

Draco grabbed at her boot and tried to move it, but she was a lot stronger than her slight frame indicated. He finally stopped struggling. It was humiliating, being bested so completely by this slight little bitch, but he was beginning to realise she was serious. She wasn’t going to let him up until he capitulated to her demands.

‘Fine,’ he said, giving in.

Grace smiled. It made her look so sweet and innocent. He wouldn’t be fooled by that smile again.

‘Good boy,’ she said, her tone meant to belittle. ‘And one last thing.’ She pressed down with her boot, choking him. ‘If you ever try to hit me again, I’ll kick your ass black and blue.’ She removed her heavy boot and he rolled over, coughing. ‘See you later Draco.’

Bitch, he though, watching her waltz away through watering eyes. If he’d been able to use magic, he would have cursed her into pieces, but his power was blocked. A part of him was grateful for that, but that part was small now, beaten into submission by the darkness inside him.

He struggled to his feet, looking in the direction that the bitch had left in. He wouldn’t let her get away with treating him like that. Before he left, he’d hear her scream and beg for mercy. A smile formed on his face. Mercy. Unfortunately for her, he no longer knew the meaning of the word.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs to JK Rowling, etc.

A/N: Been having issues uploading HTML documents. Please excuse crappy formatting.

The New Dark Lord

Chapter Four

On the harsh island of Azkaban, two insignificant wizards sat playing chess inside their watchtower. The cold was intense, made more so by the presence of Dementors, and so the wizards huddled up in thick jackets and clutched steaming mugs of coffee.

`I hate this place,' Hunter grumbled, moving a pawn.

His colleague Shawn sighed. `I know. You tell me all the time.'

`Can't you feel it?'

`What?' Shawn's voice was reluctant, not eager for another gloomy discussion with his friend. He captured a pawn and stared at the board, already planning his next move.

`Death. It lingers here.' Hunter shuddered. `I can feel it reaching for us. Can't you?'

`No, but I'm sane.'

`Very funny. Man, I swear, I think something bad is going to happen.'

`Something bad has happened,' Shawn argued, `we got assigned Azkaban duty for six months.'

`That wasn't my fault. I'm not the one put a sticking charm on Shacklebolt's toilet seat.'

`It was your idea,' Shawn pointed out.

`Nice defence.'

Shawn cornered his friends King. `Checkmate.'

`Wait, what?' Hunter studied the board, frowning.

`Face it, you suck.'

Hunter looked up at the door suddenly. `Did you hear that?'

`Oh what now? Trying to take attention away from the fact you lost? Again?'

`No, I swear, I heard something.' Hunter got slowly to his feet.

Shawn hung his head, ashamed for his friend. `There's nothing out there except those freaky Dementors.'

`But, I swear…'

Shawn heaved himself to his feet. `Fine. I'll prove it. Look,' he said, reaching for the door, `there's nothing,' he opened it, `out,' found himself staring down the end of a wand, `there,' he finished weakly, and then a flash of green light carried his soul through the Vale.

`Shawn!' Two Death Eaters stepped into the watchtower's small room. `No, you're… he's…' Hunter reached for his wand too late.

Another flash of green, and Azkaban was left unprotected, save by the fickle Dementors, who might already have aligned themselves with this New Dark Lord.

(----)

`What?' Gerwin Trent - the Minister for Magic - roared, leaping to his feet. His aide dropped a glass of water in alarm and it shattered at his feet. He quickly bent down to clean the mess; head low to seemingly hide his embarrassment. Gerwin paid him no mind.

`It happened late last night,' Shacklebolt said, `they're all free. Every single cell in Azkaban that held a Death Eater, and some that didn't, have been emptied. They're free.'

`But how? Why?' Gerwin ran a hand through his dark black hair. `It's been six years since Voldemort died. Since then, the remaining free Death Eaters have been nothing more than scavengers. Why this sudden bold move?'

`I don't know,' Shacklebolt replied, `but it's alarming, to say the least.'

`The Dementor's?' Gerwin didn't really need to ask.

`Deserted,' Shacklebolt admitted with a worried look, `and that alarms me more than anything. Dementor's wouldn't desert for just any rag tag band of Death Eaters. I doubt they'd do it for even the most senior Death Eater. They only did it for him.'

`You don't think?' Gerwin looked terrified at the very prospect Voldemort might be back.

`Who can say? All I can tell you is, after Potter killed him, I saw the body. He was dead. But… really… I don't know. Maybe it's someone else…'

Gerwin sat back, slumped in his chair and rubbing his forehead anxiously. `I never dreamed I'd have to deal with something like this. Assemble your men Shacklebolt. We've a Death Eater Hunt to arrange.'

`Yes Minister.'

Kingsley was at the door when Gerwin called out. `One last thing.'

`Yes?'

`Contact Draco Malfoy. Tell him to cut his holiday short. We need him.'

`And Potter?'

`Leave him be. I don't want to involve him if I don't have to. He deserves his peace. I won't break it if I don't need to.'

`Very well.'

(----)

On a hillside in Ottery St. Catchpole, not too far from the Burrow, there was a muffled crack, and then Ron appeared, his cloak buffeted by wind. He hunched in and ran for cover quickly, arriving at the home of Xenophilius Lovegood with relief. He shut the door of the large tower-home with a sigh and began to make his way up to the top floor - the official “office” of the Quibbler.

He found his fiancée (that always made him smile) hard at work with endearing concentration, one quill held in hand, scribbling away, the other between her teeth. He snuck up behind her and was about to lean down and kiss her cheek when she spoke through the quill: `Hewwo Wonald.'

He laughed. `Can't get anything by you, can I love?'

`Nwope.'

He waited for her to finish whatever she was doing. She scribbled a few more marks on the parchment and then put both quills down. Then he kissed her, passionately and enthusiastically. She returned everything he gave.

`Spare a few minutes?' Ron asked between kisses.

`For?'

`You know...'

`Only a few minutes?' Luna teased, raising an eyebrow.

`You know what I mean.'

`Mmm.' Kiss. `I do.' Kiss. `I think.' Kiss. `I can.' Kiss. `Spare some.' Kiss. `Time.'

Ron smiled. `Come `ere!' He picked her slight body up in his strong arms and sat her on the desk.

`Ooh!' Luna giggled. `Here?'

`Any reason why not?'

Luna mocked thought. `Nope, can't think of one.'

`Then one must not exist.' He gently pushed her back and climbed on top of her, bracing himself either side of her. She smiled up at him flirtatiously. He kissed her hard and mumbled into her mouth: `Love you, soon-to-be-wife.'

`Love you, soon-to-be-husband.'

They made love on the table, lifting up skirt, opening fly, all very practised and precise - like a form of art. Afterwards, Ron sat in Luna's discarded chair, her in his lap. She stroked along his arm, coming to rest at the artificial hand he had gotten to replace his lifeless, useless one. She held it tenderly.

`How long do you have?' Luna whispered.

`Not long enough,' Ron replied. `I have to be back at the office soon.' He looked at the clock on the wall. `Ten minutes.'

She moved to straddle him and looked deeply into his eyes. `Ten minutes. Okay. Let's make them ten minute you won't forget all day. You'll get the rest when you come home.'

`You think...' But Ron didn't get to finish. A squawk alerted them to the presence of an owl, which came flying in through an open window at the top of the tower to land on the desk before them.

`It's from the Ministry,' Ron said, reaching for it. Luna batted his hand down and got the latter attached to the owl's leg for him. He read it in silence, his eyes widening. Then he was moving, picking Luna up as if she weighed as much as a feather.

`Ronald, what is it?'

`Azkaban. Death Eaters. They're all free. I've got to go. Emergency meeting.'

Luna's eyes held worry, but her voice was understanding. `Go. Be safe.'

Ron stopped at the door. He rushed back to give her a long, reassuring kiss. `I'll be fine. We all will. Love you.'

Luna nodded. `Love you.'

Then he was gone.

(----)

The New Dark Lord, Amado Kelzer, looked down upon his subjects impassively. He was pleased. The raid had gone perfectly. No one had been expecting it. After six years of relative peace, the wizarding world had become lax. Breaking Azkaban had been too easy. Only now would it become more difficult.

Now he would have to rid the world of Harry Potter - perhaps the only person alive powerful enough to stop him - and the wizards and witches gathered before him would help him do that.

`I trust I do not have to prove myself to any of you,' Amado said calmly. `The very fact you are here, because of me, should tell you exactly who I am. I am your new Lord.' He stared the crowd down, daring anyone to question him.

`Who are you?' One so dared to ask.

Amado scrutinized the man. He was tall and balding, but his silver blonde hair still declared him a Malfoy. `Lucius Malfoy. Once a powerful wizard - now the shamed father of the Death Eaters greatest threat. Your son has made quite a name for himself. Are you proud?'

`My son is a coward and a weakling,' Lucius snapped.

`A coward and a weakling indeed,' Amado replied, a slightly mocking smile on his lips. `One who has maimed and tortured and imprisoned many Death Eaters. I hear he is even closing in on the record set by the legendary Mad Eye Moody - and in only a few short years.'

`You speak as if you admire him.'

`I admire anyone strong enough to perform such a feat, whether he be enemy or ally. Would I spare him if he were ever on the end of my wand? No. But that is beside the point. I think you would rather have that honour, no? And that is my point exactly. I have freed you. Now is your chance to strike back at those that have wronged you.'

Amado gazed into the back of the crowd, eyes searching for a particular figure. `Severus Snape,' he called, and the greasy head of the old Potion's Master rose to reveal a withered, sorry looking face. `Would you like that chance? All know how you lost your hand. Would you care for revenge? Do you hunger for the Weasley's blood?'

Snape clutched at his stump with his good hand, eyes lowering in anger and shame. That night still burned within him - every night he saw it and it tortured him.

`I give you all this chance. I am not your Lord Voldemort. I am better. I will not fall.'

There was a murmur in the crowd.

Amado pointed at Snape. `Come on up here Severus,' he said, `and I shall give you back what you have lost. I shall give you the means to exact your revenge. As I will all of you.'

`You're just a boy,' Lucius said viciously. `How dare you speak to us as if you're our better!'

`I am your better,' Amado said simply, `would you care for me to prove it? Sit down Lucius, or I shall have you cut of your own testicles and eat them.' Amado gave him a push, flooding Lucius with fear.

The elder Malfoy crumpled to the floor, gasping with eyes wide and terrified.

Severus Snape claimed the stage, walking hunched over like a beaten old man. Amado turned to face him. `Do you thirst for revenge?'

Snape nodded weakly.

`Then I will give you what you need to enact it.' Amado raised his wand and pointed it at the stub of Snape's hand. Snape cried out, staring at his stump, as it grew and morphed and twisted itself into a hand - a hand made entirely of metal. Snape flexed his fingers. A smirk twisted his beaten face into an evil mask.

`Are you satisfied?'

`Yes…' Snape looked up at Amado. `My Lord.' And then bowed his head.

`One more thing you will need.' And Amado presented him with a new wand - his old one lost over six years ago.

Snape took it reverently. `Yes… thank you…'

`All of you,' Amado addressed the crowd of hungry Death Eaters, `can have this. Whatever you need for your vengeance, you will have it. I am going to succeed where your Lord Voldemort failed. Do you believe me?' Amado turned to Snape. `Do you believe me?' Snape met his eyes. `Yes, my Lord. I believe you.'

And while the Death Eaters enacted their revenge, he would use them for his own gains. He would become Ruler of the wizarding world. He would bring the world down under a blanket of fear - and make it safe.

-->

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs to JK Rowling, etc.

The New Dark Lord

Chapter Five

It rained the night Draco left Ambleside. Harry was caught in the downpour, out walking his faithful companion, and thus spent a good fifteen minutes cleaning and drying both Charlie and himself when he arrived home. The shop was dark, the downstairs empty and quiet. He thought nothing of it, but when he went upstairs, he found Hermione sitting forlornly on the end of their bed.

`What's wrong?' Harry asked, moving to sit next to her. Charlie followed him in and sneakily jumped on the bed. Hermione was so distracted and upset she didn't even bother to shoo him off.

`He's gone,' Hermione said, handing Harry the note Draco had hastily scribbled.

Harry read it:

Can't stay. Ministry business. Later.

Harry smiled at the note. `Succinct.'

`It's not funny,' Hermione snapped, grabbing the note and reading it again with pensive eyes.

Harry held up his hands in surrender. `Geez, Hermione.'

`Sorry,' she mumbled in response. `It's just - and I know I sound like a broken record - but he's not coping. I know it. He needs our help Harry. Please, for once just believe me, and care, please.'

`Hey, I care,' Harry defended himself. `I..'

`I know. You believe in minding your own business. That's okay. It's good. But not in this case. Draco needs you. You're his best friend. He'll listen to you.'

Harry scoffed. `Yeah, I am his best friend, but like shit he'll listen to me. He won't listen to anyone but himself. Arguing with Draco is pointless. It'll only make him act worse. I've told you before... Draco has to help himself. It's just who he is. He doesn't want anyone else's help. Especially after what happened to Ginny.'

`He's lonely.'

`And it's self inflicted.'

`You think that's it?' Hermione looked at Harry with pain filled tears in her eyes. `He wants to punish himself? He lives with his mother casting hateful glances at him every day and he avoids us like we have some horrible disease. He doesn't want to feel better. He's wallowing in misery because he feels guilty?'

`Who knows?' Harry shrugged. `It could be anything...' Harry hadn't told Hermione that Draco had used the Dark Arts to torture and kill Blaise Zabini and he wouldn't. Could that be the problem? The Dark Arts?

`And then there's the Death Eaters. Harry - Draco tortures them. Ron told me some of the stories he's heard, about the Death Eaters Draco brings in, and it's obvious to everyone. I'm surprised the Ministry hasn't said anything, but I guess, as long as he's bringing them in, they don't care how...'

Harry had heard the stories as well. He was pretty sure Draco was torturing them - the Dark Arts had gotten hold of him and that much was obvious. But was it as serious as Hermione seemed to think? Draco wasn't torturing anyone else - just Death Eaters. They deserved it, as far as Harry was concerned.

`Harry, I'm afraid something bad is going to happen. Is happening.'

Harry put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. She surrendered to him gratefully. `Nothing bad is going to happen. We're passed all that.' He was silent a moment. `Okay. We'll find a way to help Draco. Somehow.'

`Really?'

`'Course.' Harry leaned down to kiss her. He stopped before pressing his lips to hers and murmured to her. `I'd do anything for you - you know that.'

Hermione smiled into his lips. `I do.'

They sealed the deal with a passionate kiss... and then some.

(----)

Simultaniously, two figures in crimson robes appeared on a sleepy seaside village lane. No one was around to witness their sudden apeparance, and who would be, at this late an hour? One of the figures moved purposefully, striding over to a nearby door and banging with his fist. The other sighed and followed.

`Shit Draco,' Elle said, `do you have to be so violent? The door ain't no Death Eater, is it?' Draco ignored her and kept up his furious knocking. `And yeah, while we're at it, what the fuck are we doing here? Mind filling me in?'

`What do you think we're doing?' Draco didn't look at her.

`With you, who knows? Draco, come on. We're supposed to be partners. It'd be nice if you gave me something…'

Draco shook his head. `The wizard who lives here used to know my father.' He paused, thought for a moment. `Father would bring me here sometimes… they'd shut me in the other room and talk quietly about who knows what. If Death Eaters are free… and my father… I think this guy might know something, and I'm going to find out. Satisfied?'

`Yes, thank you!'

Draco stepped back, his fist falling to his side, a scowl on his face. `This isn't working,' he said, and brandished his wand.

`Draco, what-wait!'

`Reducto!'

The door blew apart, wood splintering into the house and boucing off the walls of the corridor. Elle stared at Draco with incredulity.

`You're fuckin' nuts! You can't just go around blowing peoples doors in!'

`Shut up and follow,' Draco growled, waving an arm to clear the dust as he entered the house. He cupped a hand to his mouth and shouted, `Mallory! You hear me you slimy bastard? Run and you'll be sorry!'

`Fuck,' Elle spoke softly, following her “mentor”. `This is crazy. We're so fired.'

`Mallory!' Draco called out again.

They searched the house from head to toe, but found no sign of life. Elle was in the bedroom, looking under the bed, when Draco caught up with her. He stopped in the doorway, face a mask of undisguised rage.

`The bastard's left,' he said. `He was here yesterday, I'm sure, but only for about half an hour. He came in here, used magic, and then left.'

Elle arched an eyebrow at him. `You can tell all that?'

`Can't you?' Draco waved a hand lazily around in the air. `The magic lingers here… started in the kitchen, he probably came in through the back, and then he came upstairs, into the bathroom, and then here… the bedroom…' Draco paused - looked at the wardrobe, which was ajar. `Packed a bag and left.'

`He's running?'

Draco nodded.

`From who? Us? Or…'

`We'll ask him when we find him. Come on. I think I know where he went.'

`Don't tell me you can read his apparition signiture that well after a day.'

`No, obviously I can't.'

`So where are we going?'

`Follow and find out.' Crack!

Elle growled. `Fucking son of a -` Crack!

(---)

`I'm home!'

Serephina was in the basement, weaving a complicated thread of beautiful fabric, when she heard the shout ring through the house. A smile wiped out any sign of concentrated frowning and her wand moved with complex movements, tying a knot in the frabric and safetly storing it back upon one of the many maniquins dotted around her work space in moments. She was upstairs not five seconds later, and wrapping her tiny arms around her much larger husband.

Neville pulled her close and smelled her hair. `I missed you,' he murmured into her hair.

`Me too.' Sera pulled away, but took his hand at the same time. `Coffee?'

`Please.'

She led him over to the kitchen and pushed him into a chair gently. He sat and watched her work with a grin. She moved so gracefully, waving her wand with one hand, moving the kettle to boil with the other. The coffee pot and sugar slid along the counter and stopped before her. She was ready with a spoon to fill the cups her wand summoned seconds later. It was like watching a professional at work. She was amazing, and she did it all with a look of pure contentment on her pretty face.

`How's Hogwarts?' Seraphina asked as she worked.

`The usual,' Neville replied. `Got questioned by the new students first thing. It's becoming a tradition these days.'

`They're just excited to be in the presence of a real Hero.'

`Sera,' Neville said with exasperation.

`I know.' She gave him a fond look.

He shook his head and smiled. `There was this one kid… a young girl. She reminds me of Hermione… and myself, in a way.'

`Oh?' Sera handed him his coffee and pulled a chair over to sit closer to him.

Neville sipped. `Mm. Thanks. It's good. And yeah, she…' He laughed. `She approahced me after my first class… told me I was her… Hero.' He laughed again. `I didn't know what to say, you know. I don't want to encourage hero worship, but then… maybe it's not always a bad thing… that's what I've been thinking anyway…'

`Yeah?'

`I think she wanted to believe in me because it helped her see herself differently. If I could be a… Hero… then maybe she could be more as well…' He looked her in the eye. `You've always been so self aware. You know who you are. What you can do. You're so confident and sure of yourself, I don't think you can understand what it's like to be so insecure. To doubt yourself all the time. It's hard. But in me, she sees a brighter future for herself. Does that make sense?'

Sera nodded. `It does. And I think you're right. I always have. Being a “hero” is more than just saving people. It's inspiring them. Helping them be better. Whether you like it or not sweetie, you're a role model for her, and probably many others.'

Neville scratched his head and shrugged. `I guess that's not so bad.'

Sera kissed his nose. `Just don't let it go to your head and you'll be fine.'

Neville laughed. `Fat chance of that.'

Sera pushed her coffee away, took Neville's and did the same, and then sat herself in his lap. `I'll make sure of it.' She leaned down to kiss him.

(----)

Draco and Elle made their way down Diagon Alley with determination and focus. It was later now and all down the street shops were closing. The few civilians around made way for the red robed Aurors.

`Knockturn Alley? You think he went there?' Elle questioned as they walked.

`You'd be surprised what goes on down there,' Draco said.

`But you know?'

Draco nodded slightly.

`And yet you've never tried to clean it up? If you know so much, why not?'

`It's not worth it,' Draco replied. `The whole place is a front and everyone knows it. You think the Ministry hasen't tried to shut them down before? Sure, sometimes it works, but mostly it's a waste of resources. Someone else just comes in and takes over. It's like trying to stamp out evil altogether. Impossible. No, Knockturn Alley is better left as it is. And this way…' Draco gave her a sidelong look - smirking. `I can use them.'

`You can use them?'

`They all have secrets,' Draco explained, `and I know most of them.' He continued, voice now laced with sardonic venom, `being the son of a Death Eater does have perks.'

`So where are we headed, exactly?'

Draco's face took on a sour look. `Mallory has few friends in the world. My father hates the wizard… not that that's exactly surprising, as my father hates most people… but in this case he's not alone. The only reason Mallory still breathes is because he's useful. Talented, in his own way, and completely dedicated to his job.'

`Which is?'

`He's a conduit,' Draco said. `Information passes through him. You want to know something, he's your guy. It makes it easy for… for those wizards of a darker bent… to relay information. Mallory can be trusted as a source where most others can't.'

`Why?'

`Because he can't lie.'

`He can't fuckin' lie?' Elle grabbed Draco's shoulder and turned him to face her. `What the fuck Draco?'

`He was cursed to be that way. No one can remove it. So that's his job. He's the only reliable source in the dark underground of wizardry. That's why no one likes him, by the way. Honest people tend to piss people off. Still, it's an effective method for a secret society full of serpents to keep an honest basis for information.'

`The Ministry doesn't know about this?'

`Not to my knowledge,' Draco said. `Mallory was kept hidden. He doesn `t live in that Muggle village for nothing. Who would think to find a dark informant there? Mallory hasn't stepped foot in the wizarding world for years. But when he did… this is where he came. And it's where we'll find him.'

`Where?'

Draco pointed. `Borgin and Burkes.'

-->

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs to JK Rowling, etc.

The New Dark Lord

Chapter Six

The bell above the door of Borgin and Burkes glanged loudly when Draco and Elle entered. Dressed in full Auror garb, the two clearly meant business. Behind the counter, Burke looked up over a large dusty tome, and smiled widely. He put the book down and pushed it aside.

`Ah, young Mr. Malfoy, how long has it been?' He didn't wait for a response, but continued and answered his own question. `Too long, I have to say. What can I do for you?'

Draco walked smoothly into the shop, Elle following more cautiously behind, her eyes flickering around the room. Borgin and Burkes was as cluttered as always, filled with an assortment of clearly dark paraphinilia. Tall bookshelves seperated the room in two halves. In between those, tables stood out, decoreated with multiple objects. An impressive large crystal cauldron drew the eye, the contents bubbling and steaming. Elle susected the potion inside would burn through anything, but it was seemingly incapable of eating its way through the cauldron it resided within. What was an object like that worth, she had to wonder.

`You know why I'm here Burke,' Draco said.

Burke pressed his hands together and gave Draco a curious expression. `Do I? Come now, let's sit down and have a chat, for old times sakes. How is your father? Have you seen him lately?'

`Have you?'

`Now, how could I do that, him being in Azkaban and all…'

Draco placed his hands on the counter and leaned in close. `Cut the bullshit Burke. We both know my father is no longer confined to Azkaban, and we both know I'm not here to chat, “for old times sakes”.'

Burke winced. `Now, now, boy, I'd mind what you say…'

Behind Draco, Elle glanced over her shoulder. A large, ugly looking bookshelf loomed ominously, filled with clearly dark materials. She frowned at it and fingered her wand nervously.

`And why would I do that?' Draco asked in reply to Burke, at the same time placing his own wand on the table, a clear threat, and demonstration of his power.

`I'd just hate for you to get… hurt.'

Suddenly, Elle grabbed Draco by the back of his robes and pulled him down, just in time for a curse to miss him by the narrowest of inches. Both Aurors rose moments later, wands firing spells in return. Death Eaters, hiding behind the various magical objects in the room, peppered them with an array of dark magic. Elle overturned a table and used it for cover, while Draco withstood the onslaught, deflecting the more harmless spells and avoiding the dangerous ones. His wand was a blur as he whipped it around and flung back counter curses.

`Fuck!' Elle cursed. `Draco, take cover you crazy bastard!'

Draco ignored her.

Elle glanced over at the counter, where Burke had previously stood. He was gone. Shit, she thought, and scanned the room for the slimy proprietor. Her eyes found him running for the back door, and she quickly took him down with a petrification curse. He wasn't going anywhere. They still needed to question him.

(----)

Meanwhile, Draco was still throwing caution to the wind. He stood amidst the fire and returned what he got with furious, smouldering anger. A Death Eater cast a burning jet of flame at him, which Draco shielded himself from. With a quick flick of his wand, Draco retaliated, shattering the large crystal cauldron the wizard hid behind, showering him in flying shards and the contents of the cauldron, which burned right through his clothes and into his skin. The scream of pain was sickening in it's intensity. Elle had to avert her eyes, but Draco watched and smiled. Even the other Death Eaters froze, horror-struck by the sight of their brother burning to ashes.

Draco didn't have time to enjoy the Death Eaters agonized death, however, as the other Death Eaters wouldn't let him. While they still existed, he had work to do. He aimed his wand at the Death Eater hiding behind the bookshelf closest to the door, the one Elle had sensed earlier, and performed his most powerful confringo curse. The resulting explosion of wood and paper buried and ultimately crushed the Death Eater beneath the debris.

The final Death Eater tried to run, but Draco cut him down, literally, severing the wizard's legs just below the knee with a non-verbal severing charm. The Death Eater fell face first into the wood panelled floor; crying out in agony, blood spurting copiously and spreading out beneath him.

Draco strolled casually over to the downed Death Eater, a smile on his face, the world around him blank. All he could see was the wizard writhing before him. He kicked him onto his back and aimed his wand at the sobbing Death Eater.

`P-p-please, I suh-surrender…

Draco simply shook his head.

`Draco!' Elle shouted, finally snapping out of her shock and horror. `Step away.'

`Leave Elle,' Draco replied, not looking at her, his eyes focused solely on his prey.

`No,' she said firmly, and aimed her wand at his back. `Don't make me stop you.'

Draco felt an overwhelmed desire to turn and silence her forever… but he wasn't that far-gone. He somehow managed to quell it, and lowered his wand to his side. He turned his head away from the Death Eater and slowly walked away.

(----)

Elle walked quickly up to the suffering Death Eater and put him out of his misery with a verbal, `Stupefy.' She took a deep breath, trying to wrap her head around the situation. She needed to call a med team for their captives. She glanced at the remains of the burned Death Eater, then over at the pile of broken wood, and finally to the Death Eater at her feet. How had things got so fuckin' out of control? She looked at Draco's back. Shit - was he mad? How would she explain all this?

`Call it in,' Draco spoke abruptly. `I'm going to have a word with Burke here.' That said, Draco flipped his wand, levitated said wizard into the air, and disappeared, carrying the petrified prisoner behind him into the back room.

`What? You've got to be fuckin' kiddin' me?' Elle called out, but her words fell on deaf ears. `What the hell am I supposed to say!?'

(----)

In the back room of Borgin and Burke's, Draco removed the petrification spell with a simple wave of his wand. Burke tried to scramble away, but before he got even two steps, he found himself lifted into the air and flung to the wall, trapped like prey by Draco's superior magic.

`I don't know anything, I swear!' Burke pleaded, staring fearfully into the eyes of his captor.

Draco gave him a grim smile and shrug. He asked no questions, only raised his wand. `Crucio!'

Burke screamed, his shrill shriek breaking towards the end into a soundless contortion.

Draco finally lowered his wand, and Burke sagged slightly, panting, sweat dripping from his nose, eyes bloodshot.

`Puh-p-p…'

`Please?' Draco offered helpfully, a mocking tone to his normally sour voice.

Burke sobbed, knowing he was going to die horribly, but only if he was lucky. He'd heard the stories and knew what Draco was capable of. Torture so vile even Death Eaters cringed away in disgust. Dismemberment. Common spells used in such a way as to make them truly terrifying.

`Let's chat, Burke,' Draco said, eyes shinning with malevolence. `For “old times sake”.'

(----)

Crack!

`Where is he?' Ron demanded to know, the words out of his mouth as soon as he spotted Elle kneeling by the unconscious, slowly dying Death Eater. She was intent, her wand moving over severed flesh, stopping blood flow and attempting to cauterise the wound.

Elle pointed towards the back room, and Ron didn't waste time. He was half way towards the back door when Draco emerged, calmly slipping his wand up his sleeve. Ron grabbed him by his robes. `What the bloody hell have you done?'

Draco scowled and shoved Ron away. `My job. Touch me again and you'll regret it.'

Ron ground his teeth, narrowed eyes staring unflinchingly into Draco's. They glared at each other, two strong willed, stubborn forces refusing to back down. Finally, with a sigh, Ron shook his head. `Ginny would not like what I see in you.' He didn't wait for Draco to reply, just stormed past him and into the back room.

Ron searched the room, fearful of what he might discover. He glimpsed a body propped against the wall, slumped over, and quickly knelt to examine it. It was Burke. The wizard was alive, at least, but unconscious. Ron was relieved to discover no outward sign of harm.

Taking a deep breath, he levitated Burke and brought him back into the front of the store. Draco was gone. Elle still tended to the wounded Death Eater lying amidst his own congealing blood.

`Draco left?' Ron asked, as he moved Burke over to lay him down on the counter.

Elle nodded, mouth a tight line.

Ron rubbed at his stubble while he thought. `You did good calling me.'

Elle gave him a sour look. `What fuckin' choice did I have? He's mad Ron. I don't know what to fuckin' do anymore.'

`I know, but it's out of our hands now. We don't have a choice. Draco's made his bed. There's nothing we can do. I'm not going to cover for him. Let the higher ups decide.'

`Is that really what you want?'

`No. Ginny would want me to help him, but bloody… I don't know how.' He shrugged.

Elle hung her head. `So that's it? We're out of fuckin' time?'

`Who knows? The Ministry let him get away with stuff before, maybe this too…'

`Do you really believe that?'

Ron simply shrugged again. He honestly had no idea.

-->

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs to JK Rowling, etc.

The New Dark Lord

Chapter Seven

Fabric moved gracefully through the air, a delicate feminine shape posing as if before a mirror, admiring herself and the dress she wore. Seraphina pursed her lips, soft eyes scrutinising her work, before humming in satisfaction, and with a flick of her wand, storing the dress safely away upon her rack with her other projects. It had taken her longer than expected, but she was proud of the finished product, and couldn't wait to show it to her client. She sincerely hoped Miss Mayer would be pleased.

Neville was working late at Hogwarts, already engrossed in his greenhouse, taking care of his plants. Sera didn't mind, as long as he was happy. He would be home soon enough, and then he was all hers. She would take a shower, make herself pretty for him, and then wait for him to come home. The thought still made her blush like a schoolgirl as she ascended the stairs into the house proper.

Their bedroom was located up a flight of stairs, and included an on suite bathroom that Sera found very useful. Ignoring the bathroom for now, she opened up her dresser and began to peruse her options while undressing and slipping into a soft white bathrobe. She didn't have a lot of suggestive underwear (she wasn't that kind of woman). In fact, she hardly had any, and certainly none she had bought for herself.

However, nestled at the very bottom of the drawer, still wrapped in purple paper, was a gift given to her by Luna soon-to-be-Weasley Lovegood. There was a woman that didn't care what people thought about her. The gift had been given on the sly, one afternoon when Luna had been visiting, with a wink, a smile, and a few whispered words of encouragement.

`Don't be afraid to try something new. You might like it. And Neville certainly will.'

Now Sera paused for only a moment before taking the purple wrapped package and slowly opening it. The underwear inside made her face turn a bright shade of red, but she didn't allow her nerves to stop her. She laid the flimsy garments out on the bed, ready for when was done showering.

In the bathroom, she made sure the shower was hot before disrobing and stepping into the cubicle, closing the glass door behind herself. The sound of the shower drove away everything else, and steam slowly fogged up the windows.

(----)

Neville arrived home a little later than expected, appearing just outside their house - located in a small wizarding village not far from Hogwarts - with a muffled thump. He shut the front door with a flick of his heel and called out, `Honey, I'm home,' with a big grin on his round face. Making his way into the kitchen, he waited for her response.

And waited.

In the kitchen, he helped himself to a swig from a carton of orange juice, glancing up at the ceiling with a small frown. `Sera?'

There was still no reply. Had she fallen asleep? He took the steps up to the bedroom two at a time, only to find it empty, and unruffled. He could hear the shower running.

He smiled, realization dawning. She couldn't hear him over the shower. He began to tug off his clothes, throwing his robe onto the bed and unbuttoning his shirt. Maybe he would surprise her. He opened the door…

…and the grin on his face transformed into a mask of horror. Shards of bloody glass littered the floor around and inside the shower stall. His hand clenched on the handle as his face paled. Written in blood on the wall was a message:

She's mine this time Longbottom.

Luv Mandy B.

Neville fell to his knees and vomited.

(----)

`Neville,' Ron said, some indeterminable time later. All Neville could see was her face. Sera - gone - kidnapped by… oh Merlin help her. `Neville. I'm sorry. I know how horrible this must be. If this happened to Luna… but we need to know what time you got back.'

`Shit Ron, does it really matter?' Elle asked. `We know when it happened. You said so yourself, her magical signature is all over that room. Fresh as a fuckin' corpse.'

Ron sighed. `I'm just trying to get a clear picture. Follow procedure.'

`We know what happened. Sera was showering. Miss B for bitch came in, blasted the shower door in with a powerful curse, cutting Sera to shreds it seems, and kidnapped her, leaving a grisly message with what can only be Sera's blood. What I'd like to know is why. This Brocklehurst bitch obviously has a grudge against Neville. The message makes that clear enough, so this isn't just a random Death Eater attack. There's motive.'

`Yeah, but it's not what you think.' Ron looked deeply disturbed by this.

`Then what the fuck is it?'

`It's not about Neville. It's about Sera. Brocklehurst has some kind of weird obsession with her. The last time they met, she almost raped Sera.'

Elle's eyes went wide. `Shit!'

`Yeah.'

Neville heard all this peripherally, like he was underwater, or wearing headphones. Everything was distant, so far away, and all he could hear was Sera pleading for help. All he could see was her face…

(----)

`What are we doing wasting time here? We have to find her!' Elle was frantic by the mention of rape, already imagining being in Sera's shoes, and hating the feel of them.

`And what would you have me do?' Ron demanded harshly. `I can't follow her trail, and unless you have some power I don't know of, neither can you. So? What do we do? Well?'

Elle glared at him. `Fuck you,' she spat, and then turned her back on him.

Ron sighed. `I'm sorry,' he said. `I don't like it either. We just need to focus on our job. The more we learn, the better chance we have to save Sera.'

Elle scowled angrily at the wall, knowing he was right, hating the whole situation. She could feel harsh hands groping at her flesh and it made her want to throw up.

`The time Neville?' Ron asked.

Elle's eyes slid along the wall and caught the sight of something reflected in the mirror. She did a double take. What was that? Elle turned around, scanning the room for the object in the mirror. There it was, lying in a crumbled ball by the bed. She knelt beside it and picked up the purple wrapping paper.

`What's this?'

Ron looked at the object in her hands and shrugged. `Neville?' The shell-shocked Herbology Professor looked dazedly at the wrapping paper. `Do you recognise it?'

Neville shook his head.

`What does it mean?' Ron posed the question, not sure if the paper meant anything at all.

`I don't know,' Elle replied with a frown.

(----)

The room Seraphina woke up in was cold, dark, and entirely stone, probably a cellar in some house out in the middle of the woods. She huddled in the corner, naked, arms wrapped around herself in a vain attempt to keep even a modicum of warmth in her body.

She had awoken here some time earlier, unsure what was happening. Then it all came back to her. Brocklehurst. The shower. Blood. She'd felt tears well up and her body going into shock, but had denied them. She fought them roughly down and forced herself to take stock of her situation.

She was still as naked as she'd been in the shower, but where she expected to find cuts and scars from the broken shower glass was only smooth skin. Brocklehurst must have healed her. The thought of that woman repulsed her and she shuddered. The very idea of Brocklehurst's magic being worked upon her made her want to cut her skin open to spite the foul harpy.

Thankfully there was not a single object in the room that would allow her to do that. Nothing. And that included her wand. She was defenceless, trapped, a prisoner of her worst nightmare. Despite herself, she trembled, and a tear slipped down her cheek.

And so here she huddled, in the corner of the dank cell.

There came occasional noises from upstairs; the slam of a door; feet upon the ceiling, heels clicking on wood; and malevolent laughter. The laughter of a demonic witch about to get what she'd always wanted.

Sera sobbed every time she heard it. She had no desire to hide her terror, here alone in her cell, and why should she? There was no escape without her wand. All she could do was hope for rescue, and that wasn't likely to happen. Brocklehurst was a Ravenclaw. She wouldn't have left any traces to be followed. Sera knew her fate and acting tough would not make her feel better.

It was inevitable, but Sera still flinched as the door to her prison opened and the witch herself, Mandy Brocklehurst, entered. Azkaban had not agreed with her. She was gaunt, with dark hollows under her eyes, and her once fabulous red hair was dull and scraggly. Yet, behind her deprivation, she exhumed satisfaction, sauntering into the room with her hands behind her back, and head held high.

Sera remained in the corner with her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms wrapped protectively around them. She knew her modesty would not be kept for long, but she would hold onto it for as long as she could.

Brocklehurst looked at her through half lidded eyes. `Stand up.'

Sera shook her head and tightened her hold on her legs.

The Death Eater witch brought out her left hand from behind her back. In it was her wand. `Stand up.'

Sera looked fearfully at the other witches wand. She could resist, but what good would it do? Brocklehurst would torture her and she'd eventually give in. Why bother? And so, shamefully, she rose to her feet, but kept one arm across her breasts and one hand covering her nether region.

Brocklehurst licked her lips. `Hands at your sides,' she ordered, waving her wand threateningly.

Sera bit her lip, cast eyes down at her feet, and moved her hands as commanded. Humilition washed through her. She could feel the harpy's eyes on her. This time she fought the tears and sobs. She would not give the… the… bitch… the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

Brocklehurst raked her eyes over every inch of exposed flesh, smiling with sick pleasure. `Look at me.' Sera was forced to raise her eyes. She hoped they weren't as teary as they felt. Brocklehurst gazed at he with lust. `Put this on.' She produced her right hand. In it was the lingerie Luna had bought for her. The lingerie she was going to wear for Neville.

Sera couldn't help it. She let out a little sob. This bitch was going to make her wear the lingerie for her.

No! Suddenly, defiantly, Sera glared at Brocklehurst. `Never!'

Pain flashed through her body as the Cruciatus Curse worked its evil magic. Sera fell to her knees and cried out. Her tormentor strolled over to her as she knelt on hands and knees, panting out painful breath after painful breath. The Death Eater crouched before her, lingerie held out before her.

`Put it on and the pain will stop,' Brocklehurst said, moving a strand of Sera's hair back behind her ear in what could have been a tender gesture, but was in fact disturbing and creepy.

Sera shuddered and sobbed and shook her head no.

Brocklehurst grabbed her by the hair roughly. She forced Sera to look into her gaunt face. `Don't be stupid. I will torture you until you're nearly dead. I know what I'm doing. I can bring you to the brink every day for the rest of your life, but I will never push you over. Death will be something you dream and long for if you don't do as I say. But if you do as you're told, then I won't hurt you. Truly. I don't want to hurt you. I love you baby. It breaks my heart to see you suffer, but I will make you scream until you learn if I have to.'

Sera closed her eyes. Her whole body convulsed in fear and pain. `P-please,' she weeped, `please stop.'

`Will you be a good girl and put this lovely lingerie on for me?'

Tears dripped from Sera's quivering chin. She had to force the words out. `Y-y-yes.'

Suddenly the pain was gone. Brocklehurst stood up with lingerie held out still. Sera collapsed onto the floor in relief and cried.

`Come on. Get up. Be a good girl for me and put on your lingerie.'

Sera wiped the tears and drool from her face as she climbed up on shaky legs. She took the lingerie and stared at it in her hands for a moment, before finally slipping it over her head.

Brocklehurst smiled widely. `Goooood girl.'

-->

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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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs to JK Rowling, etc.

A/N: Alright, I'm back. Yup. I'm not dead. I should be bvack full time now. I'm going to try and get a chapter out a week with this and also with Potter: A History. Maybe even a few of those a week. Don't take my word for it though, depends on my mood. Alright, on with the story. You might want to go back a chapter or so to refresh yourself. Here we go.

The New Dark Lord

Chapter Nine

The thunderstorm heralded the arrival of the Death Eaters to Ambleside. They descended on the village in force, cracking into existence like physical embodiments of the storm raging above. Their powerful curses blew apart the town, setting fire to houses, exploding cars, turning trees to ash, and sending the townsfolk running in all directions. Whatever protective measures the Ministry had erected around town, they were clearly no longer in effect.

Hermione was on her way home when the attack began. Her mind was elsewhere, wrapped up in trying to figure out a way to get through to Draco, when suddenly the car to her left exploded. The blast sent her flying to land hard on her side, head ringing. She groaned as she sat up, the world spinning around her. Her eyes blurrily took in the flaming wreckage before her. At first she thought it must have just been an accident, a fault in the car, or something, but then she saw the black robes, and the pale white skull mask of the Death Eater. He looked down at her as she scrambled backwards.

Her thoughts came quick and frantically. This can't be happening! I'm dreaming. No, not a dream. Why is this happening? I thought we had left this all behind us? Focus Hermione. You need to Focus. Wand. Where is your wand? My purse. Purse.

Her purse had flown out of her hand and lay over by a bench. It was too far away. She'd never reach it in time. The Death Eater bore down on her, his wand rising to point at her. Hermione continued to push herself backwards with her hands. It was then she felt it. A stone. No - rock. Her hand grasped it like a lifeline. She had only one chance. She prayed it would be enough, and then hurled the rock at the Death Eater. He reacted as she'd hoped, ducking and dodging the projectile, giving her enough time to make a run for her wand. His angry roar came from behind as her legs propelled her body forward. She practically dived for her purse, snatched it up, and reached in for her weapon. Her head craned to look back, just in time to see his Killing Curse come hurtling at her. She dropped her body flat to the floor. The cruse missed by inches, and disintegrated the bench behind her. She pulled out her wand.

`Stupefy!'

The Death Eater wasn't fast enough. Maybe he hadn't been expecting it. Whatever the reason, he fell under the force of her spell. His body hit the floor with a thump.

Hermione felt like her heart was going to explode as she climbed shakily to her feet, clutching her wand tight to her chest. The Death Eater didn't move as she slowly approached him. She kicked his wand away and knelt to remove his mask. He was young, too young to have been a Death Eater during Voldemort's time. He was newly initiated then.

What is going on?

Hermione didn't have time to follow that train of thought, as much as she wanted to. An explosion in the distance told her all she needed to know. The night had only just begun. She had to protect the town. Her neighbours. Grace.

(----)

On the other side of Ambleside, Harry was in the thick of things. His instincts had warned him that something was coming, but he hadn't expected this. The protections surrounding Ambleside had been disabled just before the attack began. He had felt the change in the air as soon as it happened, and had been ready. Death Eaters popped into existence all over the village. Harry met them as they came.

Two Death Eaters were torturing a civilian when Harry came up behind them. A wave of his hand sent them both flying in different directions. Harry caught the villager before he hit the ground and lowered him gently to the floor. One of the Death Eaters had hit the side of a building and was probably dead, but the other rose on wobbly legs. Harry waved his hand as he passed and the wizard fell unconscious.

Harry recognised the villager as his neighbour Michael. He knelt by the man and woke him with a touch. `Where's your family?'

Michael looked around in confusion.

`Mick!' Harry shook the man. `Your family?'

`Uh... inside. The house. What's going on?'

`Get inside. Don't come out. Okay? Keep your family safe.'

`Yeah... okay… Harry, I don't know what happened… they made me float. And there was so much pain… but it's gone now. Did I hit my head?'

`No time to explain,' Harry said impatiently. `Just trust me. Can you do that?'

`I… yes… I suppose. You will explain later?'

`Promise,' Harry lied, offering Michael a hand.

The old man locked his door behind him, but Harry knew that wouldn't help. He pulled out his wand and cast a few quick protection charms on the house. Nothing would be able to penetrate them.

It was time to move on.

(----)

When Hermione arrived at Grace's flat, she was horrified to see the smoke pouring out of the windows, flames licking the glass. The door had been blasted in, creating a gigantic hole where it had once stood, and out of which thick black smoke billowed as if from the mouth on a terrible dragon.

`Grace!' Hermione screamed at the top of her lungs, fearful for her friend's life. `GRACE!'

There was no answer. Hermione stared in numb shock at the burning building.

`I have to do something,' she whispered, stirring herself from her stupor. Too many people she loved had died, and she wasn't about to let it happen again. Grace would be in her free space, working on her art, so hopefully the fire hadn't reached her yet. She was a bright girl, she would have blocked under the door with towels as soon as the fire alarm had set off.

Hermione knew there was a window in the roof of Grace's attic. She could use that to get in, but how would she get up there? Harry would just levitate himself up there, but she doubted her own ability to do that. It took a lot of willpower and concentration to levitate ones self. She looked hard at the building for thirty seconds before an idea occurred to her. She upended the contents of her purse, then grabbed a brick from where the Death Eaters had blasted the door in and stuffed it in. There was enough weight there to help her focus on. She took out her wand and aimed it at her purse, which she clutched tight in her right hand. This was going to be tricky, but she thought she could do it.

`No, I know I can,' Hermione told herself. She took a breath, and then cast her levitation charm. It worked. The bag jerked upwards as Hermione guided it up. When her feet left the ground, she gasped and almost lost her focus. Almost, but not quite. She recovered well and focused on her task, her eyes never leaving her brick laden purse. Up and up she went, dragged along by the brick, until with a sigh of relief, she dropped to the roof. She rested a moment, taking deep breaths, then scrambled over to the window. She saw a little smoke through the window, but not nearly as much as she had feared.

`Grace!' Hermione banged on the window. `Grace!'

When her friend failed to appear, Hermione stood up shakily, heart in her mouth, and aimed her wand at the window. `Reducto!' The glass shattered in on itself. Hermione cast a quick bubblehead charm over her mouth, and then, again, used the brick in her purse to levitate herself into the burning building. Her eyes scanned the smoky mist and found Grace sitting slumped and unconscious against the far wall, as far from the door as she could get. Hermione wasted no time in levitating her friend free of the burning building.

Back down on the ground, Hermione used what little medical spells she knew to revive her friend. Grace coughed and spluttered as she regained consciousness, turning onto her side and raising a hand to her head with a groan.

`Grace,' Hermione said happily.

`Hermione? Oh… what happened?'

`I'll explain soon. I have to get you out of here.'

Grace sat up and looked over Hermione's shoulder. Her eyes narrowed in confusion. Hermione saw and gripped her wand.

`Hermione, is it Halloween?' Grace asked, still foggy.

That was all she needed to say. Hermione wheeled around and raised her wand. The Death Eater saw and did the same. Hermione was faster.

`Stupefy!'

Hermione grabbed the Death Eaters wand and snapped it while a very confused Grace looked on. When she looked under the mask, this time Hermione saw a face she recognised. He was a Slytherin a few years her junior. She didn't know his name.

When Hermione turned to face her friend, Grace had regained her feet. `Hermione, please, explain to me, what the hell is going on here?'

(----)

Harry moved through the village, his home, like a vengeful tornado, tossing Death Eaters aside like they where nothing more than harmless objects standing in his way. His feet carried him with a purpose. A few minutes ago he had sensed a raw, untrained power coming from the other side of the village. If his magical senses were true, he knew where his feet would lead him.

Harry rounded the latest bend to find three Death Eaters blocking his way. They stood evenly across the street, their robes billowing dramatically in the wind, death skull masks in place, wands held up, aimed at him.

Harry slowed to a stop. The three Death Eaters looked confident. They mustn't have been very old. They had the arrogance of children unaware of the danger he posed to them. Harry's wand was still concealed, strapped to his forearm in its customary place. A wand in hand was far more powerful, but Harry didn't really need that. Simple wood to flesh contact was enough for him to take down most opponents. So far he hadn't needed to use it.

The Death Eaters acted swiftly with a concentrated attack, showing they weren't as arrogant as first believed. Not quite, anyway. The Killing Curses flew at him with great speed. Harry brought his hands together, and two cars uprooted and moved to block the path of the curses. The cars exploded. Harry jumped backwards and ducked as the last curse blew a hole though the explosion. When he came back up out of his duck Harry raised his hands and seemed to mould the flaming eruption before him, twisting it around, and then sending it back at the Death Eaters as a raging inferno. Harry couldn't see through the flames, but he heard them cry out in surprise and horror, and felt them running away. Just to amuse himself, he moulded the flames into the form of a giant skull, and chased the young Death Eaters for a good few minutes. After having his fun, he released the flames and let them dwindle, then quickly Apparated.

He appeared again, now in front of the Death Eaters, who stood around, panting and coughing. One was even batting at the end of his cloak, which had seemingly caught on fire. They hadn't noticed him yet. He gave a little polite cough, and they jumped and scrambled backwards. Harry waved his hand and they crumpled to the floor, unconscious. He summoned their wands and snapped them, then turned to get his bearings.

Harry was close to his destination. He ran down the street, jumped a small fence, and cut through the park just in time to see a gathering of five Death Eaters blasting away at a small house. The curses hit an invisible barrier and bounced back. One came dangerously close to hitting a Death Eater, who gave a startled yelp and jumped to the side.

Harry's fears were confirmed. The house was Lucy's, the little girl that always had a kind smile for him, and a cuddle for his dog.

Rage filled him, and he let the power out. His wand fell into his hand and became a blur as he charged the Death Eaters. They fell before they even knew he was there. He aimed at the house and tore the shield apart easily, then crashed through the door and into the living room. A cricket bat swung at his head, but before it could hit the bat collided some kind of force and sent it flying away, along with the body holding it.

Harry held up his hands in a peaceful gesture.

`Woah, hold on, I won't hurt you,' he said quickly, and then let his eyes scan the room to take in the scene. Lucy was unconscious on the floor, idly twitching.

`Who are you?' A woman cradling Lucy's head in her lap asked. Harry figured she was Lucy's mother. The man holding the bat got up shakily, looking frightened and confused. He must have been the girl's father.

`I'm a friend,' Harry said.

`H-harry?' Lucy's tiny voice said. She blinked her eyes, waking from her state of unconsciousness slowly.

`I'm here,' Harry replied, kneeling a careful distance away, aware that his sudden arrival was probably unsettling the girl's family.

`Oh, my babygirl, you're okay,' Lucy's mother said, leaning down to kiss her daughters head. She glanced up at Harry. `Honey, who is this man?' The mother gave him a suspicious look. `Who are you?'

`He's Harry,' Lucy said, sitting up, waving her mother away and rubbing at her head. `He owns the sweet shop. I see him and Charlie all the time.'

`Charlie?'

`My dog,' Harry said, then shook himself to focus. `Look, we don't have time for this. The village is under attack. I have to get you out of here.'

`Under attack? What? By who?' This was the father, who clutched his bat like a lifeline.

`Bad people,' Harry said.

`What happened to me?' Lucy asked.

`You feinted dear.'

`I wish that's all you did,' Harry said.

`What do you mean?'

`No time. I'm getting you out of here.'

`Now wait one second,' Lucy's father began, but Harry cut him off.

`I don't have time to coddle you people. The whole village is in danger. So you either do what I say, or I'll have to make you.'

The father bristled at that and raised the bat. Lucy cried out. Harry cursed and raised a hand. `Sleep.' The man fell unconscious and dropped the bat. Lucy stared at Harry with wide eyes. Her mother spluttered and backed away in fear.

`Do I have to put you to sleep?' Harry asked calmly. The mother shook her head in fear. `Good. It'll be much easier this way. Do as I say and I won't have to. Understand?' She nodded.

`Harry?' Lucy asked timidly.

`Yes?'

`Who are you? What are you?'

`I'm a wizard Lucy,' Harry replied, `like you.'

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