Unofficial Portkey Archive

Author's Note: Thank-you to all of you who have reviewed! The only thing slowing my posts down is my continued writing of this story and the need to proof read before I post, but thanks for bearing with me Things start picking up a bit in this chapter, I hope you enjoy it!

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CHAPTER 4: Serpent's Tongue

Draco Malfoy was in prison and it didn't suit him well. Granted, he had thus far escaped the dreary walls of Azkaban while the justice system played out, but bars were bars, and he didn't need the dementors to feel hopeless. I have failed he thought miserably, and he sat on the hard slab that constituted a bed. Finally he was able to rest and pulled a thin cotton blanket around him. Had it been less than 24 hours ago that he had been in the lush extravagance of Malfoy Manor, wishing he could just sit by the fire and close his eyes? I have all the time in the world to relax now he thought with a heavy sense of self-loathing. It wasn't true of course. He had no doubt that the he would get the Dementor's Kiss once "justice" had its way with him.

Death was not what he feared. What truly left him with a feeling of unsettling emptiness was the knowledge that his questions would never be answered, that he would never redeem himself. If redemption is even possible he thought once more, curling up against the stonewall of his prison.

There were footsteps then, echoing down the corridor. Harry Fucking Potter he thought with certainty. It was bad enough to be caught, but far worse being trapped by the brat that saved the world. The world… and my life.

Oh how he resented that. Draco knew what a spineless coward he had been in those days, it was what haunted him in the night and kept him going on his mission even when he grew tired and disillusioned. But the fact that he had to be saved by the Boy Who Lived, the boy who beat him every year at Quidditch, who was lavished with adoration worldwide and who defeated the Dark Lord numerous times....that was the worst part of it all. Whenever Draco felt frustrated with himself, it was Harry Potter's condescending voice that would drift through his mind "Excellent work Malfoy, you spineless worm, you worthless Death Eater. Where's Daddy to save you now?"

Draco decided he would refuse to speak with Harry Potter. Sure, Draco was far wittier than Harry, but the jabs about him being an orphan and at his pathetic friends could only go so far. Draco was now also an orphan, and those pathetic friends of Potter's had become war heroes while the Malfoy family and their friends slunk away like kicked dogs. As the footsteps approached he tried to block off everything around him, to think about something happy, something that Harry Potter couldn't break through. Draco had learned about controlling his feelings. Careful control of emotions had always been something the Malfoy family strove for, but truly controlling fear and impulsiveness took more work. Lucius Malfoy could be as cold as ice, but his anger was hot as fire and it would leap out when he was instigated. Draco found himself to be much the same, but also to be haunted by fear all throughout his childhood. He could control both now, and he would do so to keep from giving Potter the pleasure of seeing him wound up.

Seeking a happy thought, Draco recalled the day that his father bought the Slytherin team the Nimbus 2001s. They had arrived in the Common Room and everyone from the Slytherin House gathered to watch as their team unveiled their newest weapon. They all looked at Draco with such awe and admiration as he boasted about the finer points of the beautifully crafted broom. He recalled that swelling feeling of pride in his chest. Pride for his family and his House, for his team as they adorned their practice gear and zoomed up into the sky, each flying with precision and a beauty that the Gryffindors could not even dream of. But now that dream became clouded by a barrage of angry, aggressive thoughts; Harry catching the snitch and Lucius' grave disappointment. No, beyond disappointment; disgust. And then Lucius' face once more, and the blood... all that blood...

"Draco Malfoy, I will be legally representing your before the Council of Magical Law" said a terse voice that he had not expected. He shot up from his bed, the cloudy thoughts erased from his mind and he walked briskly over to the bars of his prison. His emotions were masked, but his curiosity was evident, so the speaker continued. "The charges they are intending to set upon you are not in compliance with the Equality for Magical Beings Code, and it is my duty to ensure that you have a fair trial." There was a pause. "It's my JOB. It doesn't mean I want to help you."

"No more than I want your help Granger" he snarled in response.

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"You're doing what?!"

"It's my job Harry" Hermione responded to her very flustered friend. "I would think you of all people understand that at times we do things not because we want to, but because they're right." She was still staying at the Burrow ever since the attack at her home, and true to his word Harry had come to speak with her once they had Draco Malfoy in custody and he was done with a day of debriefing and other matters. In the meantime, she had gone into work where she had received Draco Malfoy's file on her desk.

"What is right about this?" he questioned gruffly, running his hands through his hair in a frustrated manner, a gesture she had seen many time before.

"First off, I am the only person with access to the Death Eater files."

"A fact that has nearly gotten you killed" Harry noted. "And you could show the files to any other lawyer you realize."

"I do realize" she responded, trying to stay patient. "But they were entrusted to me for a reason. Many people become...illogical when faced with Death Eaters. I don't want some vigilante trying to kill off the forgiven Death Eaters. Justice has found them innocent, and it is my job to honor that."

"There WAS a vigilante killing off the Death Eaters" Harry reminded her. "It was Draco Malfoy."

"We don't know that for certain! You just aren't listening Harry, it's my responsibility, and it isn't an easy one. Do you think that after what they did to Muggle borns and what Belletrix Lestrange did..." she stopped, unable to finish the thought. "I have more reason than many to hate him. But if I let Death Eaters be hunted and unfairly thrown into Azkaban due to our prejudices and without the proper evidence, why, we are no better than they were."

Harry considered this for a moment, sitting down on the bed beside her. She was staying in a Weasley guest bedroom, and the quilt was so clearly sewn by Molly it nearly made Harry smile. Nearly. He felt so tired, so bone weary. Evil never stopped, and it was one thing when he was chasing it alone, but now Hermione had been dragged back into it, and the Weasleys as well. I'm a death omen he thought. "I respect what you're saying Hermione, but Draco Malfoy is clearly responsible for the killings, and standing up for him court won't change his fate."

"Like I said, we don't know for certain. We have to be certain."

"What more evidence do you need! He was a known Death Eater, he refused to give any information to the auror's after the war, and he recently purchased all the ingredients needed to create a potion that would allow him to see into Fenrir Greyback's memories."

"But WHY?" Hermione exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "Why would he start with his own parents?"

"They were traitors against Voldemort" Harry speculated, unsure of his own words.

"So was he! Why, he would have to kill himself wouldn't he?"

"Maybe it's a twisted sense of justice" Harry argued. "He saw his parents as weakening him when his Dark Lord was most in need, and he couldn't forgive that. We saw him pleading with that Death Eater, telling him how he was one of them..."

"He was scared" Hermione responded, dismissing that theory. "He would have said anything. But he fled into the night with Narcissa and Lucius, and he was forgiven."

"He planned Dumbledore's death!" Harry nearly shouted. "Or have you forgotten?"

"Don't be flippant with me Harry Potter" she scowled, both on their feet now. Not so long ago she had feared him, but in the heat of their debate she had forgotten to care about that. "You know very well Draco didn't want any of that, of how he cried to Moaning Myrtle, of how he hesitated at the end. Just like he hesitated to identify you, or me for that matter, when we were captured. Or have YOU forgotten that?"

"I can't believe you're sticking up for him" Harry responded, disgust so thick in his voice that she flinched. "I shows the stupidity of all mudbloods that they have to find good where there is clearly evil. But then, you don't really know evil, now do you? You've seen it, but you've never felt it. It's powerful, and it's seductive." He was stepping closer towards her now, and she saw the shift in his features once more, like someone else was staring out from behind those green eyes. She began to step back, knowing for the first time with full certainty that this wasn't Harry she was speaking with. She felt trapped, unsure of what to say, and as her back flattened against the wall, she drew her wand.

He eyed the wand and a strange smile came across his face. "What will you do with that? I don't think you could hurt me even if you wanted to, and let's be honest, you don't want to... look in my eyes. You trust me; we've been through everything together. You love me, possibly you're in love with me." He was so close to her now, his green eyes staring straight into her soul and she felt her hand trembled slightly. He's playing with me she realized somewhere in the back of her panicked mind. Like a mouse with a toy.

"I do love Harry" she said softly, and he grinned, but not the sort of smile she usually received when she made him feel happy. His expression seemed to drip with malice; his straight white teeth gleamed like a predator about to bite. "There's only one problem" she whispered as he pressed in towards her. "You aren't him."

He flew backwards, stunned harder than she intended, and his head collided with the wall so hard there was a loud crack. He lay unmoving on the floor and she rushed to his side, checking for injuries. A moment later the bedroom door swung open and Ginny and Ron were on the other side, gaping at the sight of a flustered Hermione perched over Harry's unmoving body.

"What the HELL happened in here?" Ron sputtered, his freckles looking unusually sharp against his sheer white skin.

"I had to stun him" Hermione said, her voice tight. "He wasn't himself..."

"Bloody hell, did he attack you?" Ron asked, quickly rushing to her side, putting a protective arm around her.

"No, but it seemed like he might. Something is wrong with him, it's like when you had that horocrux Ron, and you stopped acting like yourself."

"No, I was acting like the worst version of myself" Ron admitted, carefully guiding a still shocked Hermione to sit on the bed as Ginny analyzed the scope of Harry's injuries. She was no medi-witch, but her time as a professional Quidditch player had taught her some key tricks when it came to dealing with nasty injuries. "All the things I said and did when that horocrux was around my neck, they were still me, they were my insecurities and fears, just amplified. But this version of Harry... it sounds nothing like him" Ron continued, feeling deeply concerned.

"I know" Hermione nodded, unable to take her eyes from Harry's still unmoving body.

"He's alright, just knocked out" Ginny said, as though reading her thoughts. "Is he dangerous... should we restrain him?"

"He told me that he thought he was going insane" Ron sighed. "I should have done more or I don't know… just listened better! He told me about how he grabbed you that night Hermione, but he was so desperately upset with himself that I was sure he would find a way to keep it from happening again."

"Going insane?" Hermione asked. Her and Harry had still yet to have a discussion about what was causing his mood swings. She had thought maybe the lack of sleep and nightmares were getting to him, but she knew now she had been tricking herself. It wasn't just the things he said, it was the way he looked when he said them. Like somebody else was peering out from those green eyes. Something serious was happening to Harry Potter, and she needed to find out what.

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Draco Malfoy was trying to figure out a plan for escape. He had gotten past the brief phase of self-loathing and decided that if the mangy Sirius Black could escape the perils of Azkaban, Draco Malfoy ought to be able to escape a simple holding cell. Of course, he didn't have his wand, and while he was athletic in build he was far from a muscle man. Think Draco he scolded himself. Not all magic requires a wand.

This was true, but wandless magic was uncontrollable and mostly occurred in an entirely spontaneous manner. Draco prided himself on being well-read, and never in his studies had he come across a case of a witch or wizard who could channel magic without a wand in any productive way. Well that's not entirely true, now is it. Suddenly he was pounded with a barrage of memories, all scattered bits echoing through his mind and then that voice he had heard in his dreams...

Magic is an integral part of beings like you and I, and it can be controlled. A wand is simply a tool to help us, but the mind can be a far more powerful channel. Disgusting creatures like House Elves are able to use magic unaided, think what a wizard with powers such as myself is capable of...

Draco was beginning to have a sense of who the voice belonged to, and the thought of such power made him shudder. But something went wrong with your plan he thought as he came back to his senses. Something didn't quite work out, and oh how it must have upset you. Who was on the other side of your wrath? For certain, they will have the answers I seek... if they're even still alive.

There was the sound of footsteps approaching once more. It had been several hours since Draco had been visited by Hermione Granger, a visit which had only steeled his resolve that he must escape, and quickly. The footsteps were light, and he deduced it was a female. "Is my incompetent lawyer here to explain my rights again?" he drawled, but the footsteps did not cease, and the woman who passed his cage was not the brown haired mudblood he had known from school, but a tall and elegant auror with red hair, leading a suspended, and very unconscious Harry Potter.

Draco jumped to his feet, pushing his face against the bars as far as possible to see what was transpiring. The auror swung open the door to the adjoining cell, deposited the body of Harry Potter, and then locked the door with a resounding CLANG. "Whatever could this be about?" he pondered out loud, but the auror didn't answer. She stopped in front of his cell for just a moment, eyeing Draco thoughtfully, and then walked off without another word.

"Wait, you're not really going to leave Potter this close to my proximity are you?!" he shouted, but she was long gone. Once more Draco was left in silence, and more than ever escape was critical.

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"It doesn't feel right locking him up like this" O'Rourke commented sharply. Unsure what else to do, Hermione, Ron and Ginny had decided it was best to contact Kingsley Shacklebolt who was still the head of the auror department. There had been much effort to install him as Minister of Magic, but the Ministry was still a horrific mess in the aftermath of the war, and the political construct was shaky to say the least.

Hermione had been an avid supporter of Shacklebolt for Minister of Magic as they often collaborated on issues of social justice. She trusted his judgment, but despite her disdain for O'Rourke, she had to agree that locking Harry up in a holding cell felt awfully wrong. Since his graduation from Hogwarts he had quickly risen in ranks as one of the greatest aurors since Mad Eye Moody, and treating him like a criminal was just...

"Insane!" Ron blurted out, finishing her thought. "This is utter bollocks. We called to get him some help, not to have him arrested!" Ginny looked equally displeased, but she had grown to be a bit more controlled than her brother when it came to emotional outbursts. She gently touched his arm, calming him, and suggested that they allow Kingsley to speak.

"Thank-you Ginny" Kingsley said with a kind nod. "I understand your dismay, but based on what Hermione has told me, it sounds like Harry is under some very dark enchantment. As you all know, Harry Potter is no ordinary wizard. If he is showing signs of becoming dangerous, we must take every possible precaution to keep him from harming others."

Hermione wanted to say that he would never, that he was incapable, but his behavior over the past few days suggested otherwise. "You think he's under some sort of a spell?" she asked slowly.

Kingsley looked surprised. "What else could it be?"

There was an awkward pause as they all just looked at each other. Finally Ron spoke, his face clouded with unease. "Harry thought he might be going insane."

Kingsley didn't look taken aback, merely as though he was considering this option. "It isn't uncommon for one to lose their mind in this line of work. But Harry does not strike me as the sort who would go mad. He has experienced a lot, and his marking trait has always been resilience."

Hermione wanted to take comfort in Kingsley's words. Spells could be reversed, enchantments broken, curses could be stopped and there were antidotes to potions. But the only cure for insanity would to be to lock him up in St. Mungo's. She feared that even that would be more than Harry could hope for if he was truly mad. There was malice in him, and that combined with his power would make him quite dangerous. She tried not to think of what else could be done; sending him to Azkaban was unthinkable. She had been working with Kingsley in an effort to close Azkaban. It was inhuman, and being subjected to dementors was worse than she could wish upon even her enemies.

"I just think it's cruel to lock him up alongside Draco Malfoy" Ron said, his voice breaking through Hermione's reverie.

"The auror holding cells are the only place with enough wards that we can be certain he won't break free" Kingsley explained. "It will only be temporary, while we sort things out."

"Malfoy won't be there for long I'm sure" Ginny chimed in, trying to assure her brother.

Hermione did not share Ginny's optimism. As much as she would like to pin the slaying of the Death Eaters on Draco, she had her own doubts, and as his lawyer, she would need to fairly represent those doubts.

As though sensing Hermione's hesitation, Ron spoke once more. "Draco IS guilty right Hermione?"

"I'm not really sure" she admitted truthfully.

"Oh come on!" O'Rourke spat. "The guy was running about in a black cloak in the middle of the night shortly after buying every odd ingredient one needs to create a werewolf fang pensieve, and howling at the moon! He's one of very few who could have known where Dolohov lived, and a known Death Eater himself!"

"Yes, but none of that proves he killed them" Hermione patiently maintained. "It's almost certain he took the fangs from Greyback before he was killed. But it's not certain that Malfoy did the killing."

"So, you're suggesting that he snuck into Azkaban, stole Greyback's fangs so he could enjoy the gruesome memories later for kicks, and then just left the werewolf in excruciating pain until someone else finished him off?"

"I'm not suggesting anything except for the fact that it could be possible. Furthermore, there are many other troubling questions. Why did he kill his parents? Why did he want Fenrir's memories in the first place? And most importantly, how has he been concealing his identity all along, and using such rare and unheard of spells?"

"I can't believe you're defending him!" Ron blurted out. "Don't you see, it was him who sent you that death threat!"

"Whoever did the killing most certainly did send me the death threat, I agree. According to Kinglsey they used the exact same curse to kill that poor auror stationed on watch as they used on the Death Eaters. But we do not have any proof that any of this was done by Malfoy. I am not saying Draco Malfoy is guilty or innocent. Just that he deserves a fair trial, without biased presumptions based on his history."

"What if you get him off and he comes back and kills you?" Ron asked, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"I am not looking to get him out of any charges he is deserving of. Besides, there will be one very tell tale sign of his guilt, if he is in fact guilty."

"What's that?" Ginny asked calmly, trying to soothe her flustered brother by placing a gentle hand on his arm.

"If the murders of past Death Eaters stop."

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When Harry awoke, it was with a loud groan. His head felt like it was in a vice being clamped down on very hard. He was lying on a hard bed and when he tried to sit up and adjust to his surroundings he instantly became quite dizzy. He closed his eyes tightly and allowed himself a few moments of calm breathing.

"Finally awake then Potter?" asked a voice with an all too familiar drawl.

This is a nightmare Harry thought to himself. That is the only explanation as to why I would be waking up to Draco Malfoy.

He opened his eyes once more, and slowly they focused. He sat up very cautiously, and when it dawned on him where he was he nearly fell back over. I've been locked up he ascertained. He knew instantly where he was from the cobalt blue painted cement walls. He had locked a number of criminals up in these very cells in the past few years. One of them had been only hours before... Draco Malfoy.

"What did you do Potter? Did you finally out live your usefulness? I mean, in my opinion you ought to have bit it years ago along with your Muggle loving parents. But I suppose we're all entitled to our own opinions in this glorious new democracy we live in."

Harry clenched his teeth. He replayed the past twelve hours. Finding Draco Malfoy, locking him up, filing paperwork, hearing Hermione would be defending Malfoy before the Council, going to discuss the matter with her...

Hermione he thought, pain welling up in him. He remembered what he had said to her, all those cruel words and the feeling fear coming from her in warm waves. It had felt so inviting, almost seductive. He could have reached out and broken her neck and it felt so empowering, almost arousing...

He rushed to the small metal toilet in the corner of the cell and wretched out the little food he had consumed over the past 24 hours. He was quite sure that the last full meal he had eaten was the breakfast Hermione had cooked three days ago. He sat in the corner, burying his face in his arms and thinking intensely about all that had happened.

"Silent treatment then eh Potter?" Malfoy's voice said after some time had passed. "Or maybe this is all a really transparent tactic in order to get me to confess to my crimes."

"Well, did you do it?" Harry asked, for no other reason than to stop the flood of guilt that was threatening to drown him. A conversation with Draco Malfoy was the furthest thing from fun in Harry's mind, but it was a distraction and he needed that now.

"No wonder they say you're the greatest auror of our times!" Malfoy scoffed sarcastically. "With such clever methods of inquiry, I'm sure the Dark Lord himself would have professed his darkest secrets."

"You'd be surprised" Harry retorted dully. "Voldemort did love to share his plans with me. Oh how he'd elucidate on every detail of his morbid existence."

On the other side of the prison wall Draco pondered this, unsure if Harry was being sarcastic. He decided ultimately, that Harry was probably being truthful. Draco himself had many less than fond memories of Voldemort pacing about the meeting table, his long black robes swishing dramatically as he discussed his plans for domination in grim specificities. The man sure liked to talk about himself.

"I don't know if I did it" Draco said then, anger suddenly rousing up in him. "I still haven't been informed of what I'm being held for."

"Then I doubt it's for me to tell you."

"But we're prison buddies now, aren't we Potter?" he asked, his voice clearly indicating that he would never, ever, consider Harry James Potter to be his "buddy".

Silence returned to the prison cells for several hours.

When Harry spoke again, his tone was different somehow. Draco Malfoy had learned to carefully sense shifts in emotions, he had learned to gauge his enemy and weigh his sense of trust. He walked through life like he was perpetually treading on thin ice. "Tell me Malfoy, how did it feel to kill your own parents? I saw their corpses you know. All that blood, did it disgust you or thrill you?"

Draco felt cold suddenly. He rushed to the bars of his prison, as though he could break their iron with his slender frame. "I will get out of here Potter, and when I do, I will kill you" he said through gritted teeth, unable to contain his blind rage for a moment. But slowly, he gained calmness again, and over the sound of his blood pounding in his ears, he heard laughter. Cruel, slow... familiar laughter.

Draco Malfoy had hated Harry Potter for many reasons. As a child, he hated the fact that Potter had chosen to associate himself with such a mixed bag of people. The Weasley's poverty disgusted him, and he knew mudbloods to be a stain on the history of wizardry. He had given Potter a chance to be embraced by the Malfoys, a noble and prestigious family that could have shaped Harry's raw powers and skill into something of real worth. Potter had turned him down, and that was the first in a long series of slights.

Later in life, Draco had grown to increasingly hate Potter for his fame. Everyone worshiped the ground he walked on. Potter as a natural at Quidditch, a favorite of most professors, a passionate leader, a beloved hero, a triwizard champion, and eventually, a romantic obsession of girls throughout the wizarding world. It was sickening. It ought to have been Draco's birthright to be most popular boy at Hogwarts. He had money, power, a rich family history, intellect, cunning and natural good looks. But Potter robbed him of it all.

There were many reasons he could list why he hated Harry Potter. But there was one very powerful reason that stood out the most, a reason that he would never admit to others and could barely confess to himself. He envied the love that Harry clearly experienced. Unlike Draco, Harry was an orphan, but the love he shared with his friends was far more tangible than what Draco got from his own parents. Even as an outsider Draco envied Harry's genuine smile, the glow in his eyes when he was with his friends, and the way they looked at him in return. He envied the closeness of Harry's friendships- he was hardly ever alone, even when things became dangerous. There was such loyalty between Harry and his friends, and a sense of love that Draco was so far from understanding. Harry, Ron and Hermione- the golden trio. Always seen whispering conspiratorially in the Great Hall, or walking side by side along the lake, or filling the halls with easy laughter...

Yes, Draco Malfoy knew Harry Potter's laugh, and it sounded nothing like this cold cackle that now echoed through the holding cells. Still, it was so familiar for some reason. A cold, slow laugh that was devoid of actual happiness but ripe with cruel satisfaction. Draco stepped back from the bars, his head spinning suddenly as the barrage of memories that were not his own flooded up into his mind's eye. And then he knew exactly who the laugh belonged to.

"Tom Riddle?" Draco asked quietly. The laughter stopped.

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Hermione tried to sleep that night, but as she lay in her small bed at the Burrow, all she could think of was Harry locked up. Finally, she abandoned hopes of rest and headed down to the kitchen where she found she wasn't the only one awake.

Ginny and Ron sat before the warm glow of the fire, each clutching a steaming mug of some unknown substance. They were talking quietly, and Hermione thought to announce her presence, but then somehow thought better of it. She simply studied them for a while, hiding in the dark shadow of the doorway, her blanket still draped around her shoulders.

Ron was sitting hunched forward in his chair, his elbows rested on his knees, the flames creating a silhouette of his figure. Ginny was turned towards him, settled neatly in a rocking chair with a knit blanket over her knees. She swayed slowly back and forth, the orange flames of the fire lighting her features and casting a spectacular glow in her red locks.

"I feel really unsettled about the whole thing" Ron was saying, his voice miserable.

"Well, it is unsettling" Ginny agreed.

"It's more than that though... I don't think he's cursed or anything like that. I mean, he could resist the imperius curse right? And it's not like he's in a sort of daze. Hermione and O'Rourke both said it's like he's a whole other person, like someone else is looking out from behind his eyes... what if he isn't even really Harry? What if it's someone polyjuiced as him?"

"They can tell that sort of thing easily Ron" Ginny said, her tone logical. The youngest Weasley had changed in many ways since her teenage years. She had gained confidence and poise, and while her Quidditch career kept her away for long periods of time, these absences only seemed to improve her development as an individual. "They ran some initial tests on him before they even locked him up. He isn't a polyjuice copy, and he isn't under any usual curse."

"So if he is cursed, it's something very rare and unheard of" Ron deduced. "Or he's possessed."

"I couldn't even speculate on that. I've never heard of it happening in reality, I'm not even sure it's possible" Ginny frowned, pulling the blanket on her lap up over her shoulders.

"It's not possible" Hermione finally said, causing them both to jump.

"Blimey Hermione, way to scare the bloody hell out of me!" Ron scowled. Then his expression softened as she stepped into the light. "Can't sleep either? We're trying some warm milk, care for a cup?"

She nodded and pulled a chair up to the warm heath, instantly becoming lost gazing into its light. She remembered many long nights sitting around fires like this with Ron and Harry as they searched for the horocruxes. Often the silence of these evenings was terribly pervasive as they all retreated deep into their personal fears, letting the pop and crackle of the flames fill the night. Most often, the thought that kept her going was that eventually they would prevail, and things would go back to normal. But they never really had, and she felt naive for ever thinking it possible. Now that she had grown up, she sensed the absurdity in believing that deep emotional scars could easily heal; that she could go on and marry Ron and that Harry and Ginny would finally work out.

She snapped awake from her thoughts as she realized Ginny had been repeating her name. "What do you mean it's not possible?" Ginny asked.

"I should clarify" Hermione quickly responded. "You might say that Voldemort possessed Professor Quirell, but Quirell was a willing host. There has been no actual record of possession in which a witch or wizard is unknowingly taken over by another being. There's the imperious curse of course, but that's not a possession in which two consciousnesses share a body."

"Well, if there's anyone who could experience a never before recorded phenomenon, it would be Harry" Ron sighed. Nobody could argue.

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After Draco had called out Tom Riddle's name there had been hours of complete silence, which was quite eerie. Draco pondered calling out for help, asking to be moved, but he knew it would be futile. Clearly, there were very strong wards on these cells because there were no guards in sight, and none had come by since dinnertime.

Draco tried to sleep, curling up on the uncomfortable bed, but it was impossible to close his eyes in the dark without hearing that laughter in his mind once more. He resorted to sitting upright, the thin blanket draped over his shoulders, his knees pulled in closely to his chest. He tried to clear his mind of fear by going through the same old exercises he had taught himself. He focused on even breathing.

It was sometime close to dawn when Harry spoke this time, and this time his voice sounded normal. "Why did you call me Tom Riddle?"

Draco sat, unmoving. He couldn't decide whether to answer. If he was going insane, it may not be wise to provoke him. Presumably the thick concrete wall between them would keep him safe, but insanity could drive wizards and witches to elevated levels of power. There was also the fact that Draco had no desire to help Harry Potter in any way. Still, curiosity got the best of him.

"You sounded like him, when he was young. Before he became... more monster than man."

"I sound like him when he was still Tom Riddle." Harry stated more than asked.

"You don't sound surprised."

"I feel like him too, when I go off like that. Or, what I'd imagine he must have felt like."

"So you're bat shit insane."

Harry chose not to respond. He had no way of realizing, but he was sitting in the exact same position as Draco Malfoy, only the concrete wall blocking them from being back to back. He took in a long breath to keep from getting angry. He didn't want to change again. "How do you know what Tom Riddle sounded like? You served him when he was much older."

"Served him" Draco wretched at the use of words.

"Well didn't you?" Harry half shouted. "You led to Albus Dumbledore's death under the orders of your so-called Dark Lord."

"And what would you know of it Potter?" Draco hissed. "He had my entire family under his control, he..." Draco thought of saying more, of explaining how Voldemort was making an example of them, of how Draco barely slept for a year having to choose between doing something horrible or the death of himself and his family. He thought about telling Harry about the fear that hung over his head like an inescapable storm, and the even worse guilt that came when the storm cleared. But it was none of Harry-Fucking-Potter's business.

"If you don't consider yourself his servant, then why were you killing the other Death Eaters off? It had to have been revenge, it's the only thing that makes sense."

When Draco heard these words he was struck speechless. So that's what they think I did Draco realized, feeling like a fool. They think I was killing all those Death Eaters... my own parents... there was a sort of sense to it he realized once he pushed aside the initial rush of rage. "I was trying to track down who is doing the killings" Draco finally said, his voice sounding small as it left his lips and echoed through the dark prison. "I wasn't killing anybody, I was trying to find out who killed my parents."

"But, you took Greyback's teeth just before he was killed."

"Yes, good deduction Potter. And had I stayed another hour or so I could have caught the culprit that offed him. How it would have irked you for Draco Malfoy to be the one who solved the puzzle for once. I needed his teeth to see into his memories... I doubt you had any clue that werewolf fangs can be used to see into their memories."

"How do you think we found you?" Harry sighed.

"Ah, of course" Draco said flatly. There was some grey light coming through the bars of his cell now, and he knew the sun was slowly rising. "But you didn't figure it out did you? Just like you didn't figure out what I was planning at Hogwarts until it was too late. Your mudblood girlfriend told you I bet. `Oh Harry, you're truly hopeless. Didn't you know that werewolf fangs have only one purpose?'" His imitation of Hermione Granger was so spot-on that it set Harry's nerves on edge, and he felt a slowly rising rage he could only just push down. "She may be a detestable know-it-all bitch but she was always clever. And even fairly shaggable I suppose. Even I can settle for a mudblood slut from time to time."

Harry's anger exploded from him with such force that he lost vision and in his blindness he felt a surge of energy escape his body, and it was unlike anything he'd ever felt. The floor beneath his shook violently, and there was a loud BANG and when he could see again he realized that the bed he had been resting on was torn from the wall and had been launched against the prison bars so hard it had splintered into pieces. The bars remained unmoving however, and now there was a wailing so loud he clamped his hands tightly over his ears.

"Well, now you've done it Potter!" Draco's voice shouted, his voice barely audible above the roar. "You've set off the wards!"

` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` `

Hermione had barely fallen asleep when an owl from the ministry was tapping on the guest bedroom window. She was being summoned to the auror headquarters, and when she arrived downstairs to access the floo network she realized she wasn't the only one. Ron stood, looking dreadfully sleepy, his hair sticking up oddly on one side. He waved a similar envelope at her and they were urgently off to see what new developments could have possible emerged in less than 24 hours.

When they arrived, they found Kingsely sitting in his office. He had always been a modest man and his office was quite small and impossibly tidy. The only decorations were a few tasteful items of art, and there were no papers scattered on his polished wooden desk. He urged them to take a seat, his face grave.

"Just about an hour ago there was a disturbance in our holding cells the likes of which I have never seen. I have called you both here because you are the closest remaining thing Harry has to family, and I feel someone ought to be notified of the gravity of the situation." He went to explain how the wards had sounded, and how Harry's holding cell had nearly been ripped apart. "Wandless magic isn't unheard of, but is difficult to control and rarely of this magnitude. Something is deeply disturbing the very core of Harry's being, and I'm afraid I am not qualified to even take a guess what it may be at this time. I can assure you, we have every possible resource looking into this matter."

Ron reached out blindly and grabbed Hermione's hand in an absent gesture. He looked white as a sheet, and Hermione's expression was unreadable, as though she was struggling with something buried deep within her. "I can't promise we can help him. Things seem to be escalating quickly and we have no method to even hope to slow it. I'm afraid he's quickly becoming more dangerous than we could have ever expected. I want to be honest and direct because you both deserve that."

"Can we talk to him?" Hermione asked, her calm tone surprising even the ever-prepared Kingsley Shacklebolt. He pondered this for a moment, and then nodded. Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley were not the type of people he needed to feel responsible for protecting. They had seen far more in their teen years alone than most aurors would face in a lifetime.

He led them to their holding cell, and then closed the door behind them, giving the two privacy as they walked down the narrow corridor leading to Harry's cell. Hermione did not turn to give Draco has much as a glance as they passed, but Ron seemed unable to help himself. "About time the monkey is behind bars" Ron said in a quiet, angry voice.

"That's not a very nice thing to say about Potter" Draco said, his voice mockingly sweet.

Ron lunged at him, as though he would pass through the bars and attack, but Hermione absently pulled him back "don't bother" she said, but it was the way that she said it which cut Draco in a way he would not have expected. Her voice sounded so distracted, like Draco was merely a fly she swatted aside. But even an obnoxious fly had to be seen, and she had not so much as glanced his way for a moment. She was all consumed by her concern for Harry Potter, and that made Draco feel suddenly small and alone. Nobody had ever cared about him like that.

When Hermione saw Harry she was shaken for the first time by the reality of the situation. His cot had been ripped from the wall with such force that there were cracks running through the concrete in all directions. There was a pile of debris that he had carefully cleaned up and piled in the corner, unsure of what else to do. Nobody was willing to open his cell or have him moved as they were still trying to understand what was happening to him. She heard a sharp sob of pain, and realized it came from her as her knees weakened and she nearly fell to the ground. Ron had grabbed her, and was holding her so tightly she could barely breathe.

Harry sat in the corner, looking small, his head buried in his arms. Slowly he moved, and she was afraid of what she would see when his eyes looked at her. Would he still be Harry? It was shadowy in his prison, but even from a distance she recognized those caring green eyes. He was himself, and he was looking at her with far more concern than she deserved. After all, HE was the one in prison and on the verge of complete insanity. "Thank-you for coming" was all he said, and Hermione burst into tears.

He couldn't stand to see her cry and rose suddenly to his feet to approach her, but then thought better of it and sat back down. "I'm not sure if I'm safe to be neat."

Hermione lowered herself until she was sitting on the other side of the bars, and Ron gradually released her, standing with his head hanging. Ron felt like his heart was being ripped from his body. Losing Fred had been nearly unbearable, but somehow Harry was even worse. Especially to lose him in this way; a criminal burying all his life accomplishments in a pile of rubble. He focused on his feet to avoid crying himself.

Hermione sucked in a long breath, stopping her tears. "Okay, I'm done acting like a silly woman. Let's get done to it. They don't know what's happening Harry, but I will figure it out, I always do right? Right." She continued before anyone could disagree. "You need to tell us everything."

He told them about it had started slowly, about feeling joy at the sight of blood and death, about how it lashed out suddenly at the worst times. About how it seemed especially hell bent on hurting Hermione, and how he had liked the feeling of her pain. He even told them how Draco had called him Tom Riddle, and how he felt like what he imagined Tom Riddle must have once felt. It was difficult telling them all of this, but he knew it needed to be done. And when he was done telling them every detail he could think of, he explained why he had needed to tell them.

"I don't expect that there is any cure for this, whatever it may be. Maybe I'm just truly insane. But I can tell there's no stopping it, and I think now you know the extent of how bad it is. So when the time comes, when I lose control again... I need you to accept what Kingsely will have to do. I need you accept that he is going to kill me, and it is the right thing. The only thing."

Ron shook his head violently, and then turned and punched the wall with such force he howled in pain. "That is utter bollocks Harry! After all that we survived, this is not how it ends. You're supposed to settle down someday, stop chasing evil, marry the girl of your dreams and make an abundance of babies to go to ride the Hogwarts Express with my future kids. You are going to get through this like everything else, and then, you are going to take a boring job at the ministry and be safe for once, and every night we'll get bloody wasted and watch Quidditch and things will be okay. You've always been a fighter Harry, you'll fight this too."

"All my fight is gone Ron" he said simply, no self-pity or loathing in his tone.

Before Ron could say anything, Hermione chimed in. "Harry, come closer please."

"It's not safe."

"Let me decide that. I have followed you to death's doorstep many times, let me decide about my own safety. You owe me that much right now."

He could not argue, and so much of him desperately wanted her to make him better. How many times had he shown up broken and bleeding at her home, and she had healed him? He wanted to believe she could heal him now. He moved towards the bars and allowed her to take his hand. There was a slight shake in her grip, so he tightened his.

"I'm going to figure this out, and I promise" she whispered, emotion rising in her voice once more. "I've followed you all my life, and if you're gone, I won't know where to go. So don't say things like that to me and Ron, it's not fair, and..." her voice broke off as tears came openly from her eyes, pouring down her face. His hand reached through the bars and touched her cheek and the gesture was so gentle, so Harry, that she stopped shaking a bit, her nerves calming.

"I'm not quitting just yet. You're right, it's not fair, and I'm sorry. I'm tired is all, but I need to tell you something now before you go. Come close."

Ron watched as Harry whispered something into Hermione's ear. The two still gripped hands as they sat on either side of the prison bars, and as Hermione turned her head to listen, Harry leaned in until his lips were just brushing her ear. Ron watched this, and for a brief moment he wondered about their relationship for the first time in his life. Ginny was quite sure there was something secretive and romantic between them, but why should it be a secret? And how could they have kept it up this long without him noticing? He shook his head; it was utter foolishness. He knew them better than anyone-- they had a very unique, but very platonic, loving friendship. Still, the way they moved so comfortably near each other, even in the face of great peril...

Ron could not hear a word she said, but when they parted she gave him an odd look. They released hands and then she nodded at Ron that it was time to go.

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