The Face of His Enemy - Chapter 4

[mahaliem]

Warning - Even though about 80% of this story was written before Harry Potter book 6 was sold, an argument could be made that I should post warnings for spoilers.

Title: The Face of His Enemy
Author: mahaliem
Rating: R
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Summary: On the train to Hogwarts, Draco is hit with a curse that results in him reassessing who he is and who his true enemies are.
Disclaimer: JKR owns everything and everyone (except for some minor original characters). No profit is being made on this work.
Author's Note: I had written over 33,000 words of this story before Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince were sold. It is therefore AU. Any similarities between this story and JKR's is purely coincidental.

Thank you, thank you, thank you to jasmasson and lastscorpion. The more I write, the more I realise how much I depend on wonderful betas. Any remaining errors are mine and mine alone.

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3

Chapter 4



"And you're quite sure they were alone?"

He didn't know where he was. He didn't even know who he was. But he did wish that the people who were talking next to his bed would be quiet and let him go back to sleep. Keeping his eyes closed, he tried not to listen, but they were speaking much too loudly to ignore.

"As I told you before, Albus, other than the animagus leaving through a window of the Owlery, I saw no one else. Afterwards, I was concentrating on getting these two irresponsible idiots to the infirmary as soon as possible."

"I know, Severus. You were distraught at finding those under your charge to be harmed. Which is the reason, I'm sure, that you felt it necessary to render them unconscious."

"They were both asking me ridiculous questions. Who they were, who I was, if I was the one who fed the owls, if they were owls - it was most irritating."

"Yes, I understand that you were quite worried and upset about the entire business."

He heard a snort of disgust. "Must you always insult me?"

There was the sound of running feet. It grew louder until finally halting nearby.

"How's Harry? Is he all right? May we see him?"

"Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger," one of the voices sneered. "Racing to the rescue a bit late, aren't you?"

"Hush, Severus. Please children, do not be concerned. Harry and Mister Malfoy are physically undamaged."

"Physically?" a female voice queried.

"I'm afraid that there is evidence that they were hit by a rather strong obliviate."

"But you can fix it, can't you?" a boy was asking. "It's not like Harry's going to have to be sent to St. Mungo's like Lockhart was."

"Although I am unable to remove the curse, we are certainly not sending your friend away. He is a student of Hogwarts and will remain here."

The voices seemed to drift away as he fell asleep once more.

* * *

He woke to the sound of voices.

"This is an absolute outrage. I find not only that my son has been obliviated, but that he's also been horribly disfigured. Why was I not informed of this event sooner?"

"When your son's appearance was altered, I believed at the time that it would be of temporary duration and you were still recovering from the effects of your stay in Azkaban. I therefore deemed it unnecessary to add to your burdens."

There was an insolent "harrumph". He felt a warm hand on his arm and it shook him gently.

"Draco? Draco, are you awake?"

He blinked and opened his eyes to see a striking looking blond man hovering over him. "Who are you?"

The man spun to give the elderly gentleman behind him a glare, before returning to him, eyes filled with concern.

"You're Draco Malfoy and I'm Lucius Malfoy. Your father. I've come to take you home."

Draco smiled. "I think I'd like that."

* * *

"Harry," the bushy-haired girl exclaimed, her smile wide and welcoming. "I'm so glad you're all right."

"He's not all right," the redhead next to her stated. "He can't remember a thing."

"Poor Harry. He'll need extra tutoring in all his classes. Especially if he wants to have any chance at all of doing well on his NEWTs."

"Is that all you think about, Hermione? Classes? There's other much more important stuff Harry needs to learn. Like Quidditch. We've a match against Hufflepuff in less than two weeks."

"My name's Harry?" he asked, propping himself up in the infirmary bed and looking around. Everything was blurry. "Is something wrong with my eyesight? I can’t see you too clearly."

"Here," the girl called Hermione handed him a pair of glasses, which he put on. "Your name is Harry Potter and you're a Wizard currently attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," she explained.

The boy plopped down on the bed next to him.

"And I'm you're best friend, Ronald Weasley." He pointed to his companion. "The bossy one is Hermione Granger."

"What happened to me?"

Ron and Hermione looked at one another until finally the girl took a deep breath and began.

"No one is sure exactly. We do know that for some reason you went to the Owlery last night. You and another boy. Professor Snape found both of you there completely obliviated - that means that a spell was done making you forget who you are."

"And the other boy? Where's he?"

"That prat's father came by and collected him earlier. Good riddance, I say."

"You didn't like him?"

Ron started to answer, but Hermione interrupted him. "That's not important. The only thing you need to be concerned with is getting your memory back."

"Yeah," Ron added. "That's right. You need to get it back right quick before You-Know-Who hears about it."

Harry's brow wrinkled. "You-Know-Who who?"

* * *

He was shown to an enormous set of rooms. There was an outer chamber that contained a sitting area, a desk, and bookshelves that covered the walls. In the room next to it, a large canopied bed with green hangings dominated the room. A good-sized dressing room was attached to it as well as a huge bathroom.

Draco glanced up at Lucius. "All this is mine?"

Smoothing a hand down Draco's back, Lucius nodded and herded Draco to a sofa. While Draco made himself comfortable, Lucius plucked a book from a shelf before returning to sit next to him.

"Let me introduce you to your past." Lucius opened the book to show a squirming, squalling infant.

"These seem a bit blurry."

"I believe the spell you used on your eyes is wearing off. Allow me." Lucius waved his wand and spoke a word and Draco was surprised to find that his vision cleared immediately.

"Wow!" he murmured under his breath.

Lucius chose to ignore his awe at the casual display of magic. Instead he returned his attention to the photo album.

"You were the most demanding infant that anyone had ever seen. If no one paid attention to you, you would scream the manor down until someone did."

He smiled as Draco studied the pictures in front of him.

"You were most definitely a Malfoy," Lucius said proudly.

* * *

Standing in the middle of Dumbledore's office, Harry put a hand to his forehead and glared at the man in front of him.

"That hurt," he accused.

"I can see you still remember how to complain quite well," Snape replied, looking down his nose at the boy. "Pity."

"Professor Snape is only trying to get past the block that was thrown up by the spell," Dumbledore explained. "Please, help yourself to a candy, Harry." He turned to Snape. "Did you see anything?"

"Nothing more than what has occurred in the last twenty-four hours since he awoke. If Potter hadn't been totally incompetent at Occlumency I would suspect that he was blocking me simply to be obstinate."

"There was nothing you saw that might help us?"

"Unless the entire collection of Mister Weasley's chocolate frog wizard cards will somehow save us from the Dark Lord, then the answer is 'No'."

For a moment, Dumbledore looked troubled as he faced Harry, but it was so fleeting, replaced by a gentle smile so quickly, that it was possible that he'd only imagined it.

"Then there is nothing more for us to do than to attempt to recreate your education here at Hogwarts. Severus, will you be available to work with Mister Potter on Potions starting this Saturday?"

Harry could have sworn that he heard the words "Kill me now", but Dumbledore was still smiling at Snape so that was impossible.

He couldn't help wondering if the spell had affected his hearing as well as his memory.

* * *

Draco fiddled with his silverware. He'd done something wrong again. He could tell by the silence that filled the dining room and by the way Narcissa glared at him.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"Speak clearly," she ordered in response. "And sit up straight."

Straightening in his seat, Draco kept his eyes firmly on his plate.

"Now, Narcissa, the boy is still traumatized." Draco glanced at Lucius, who gave him a tight, thin-lipped smile.

"I don't care. It's awful enough that we must look at that... that face, but did he have to forget all of his manners and upbringing as well?"

Taking a deep breath, Draco turned towards her.

"I believe that I'm done. May I please be excused?"

Before she could say "No", Lucius granted his permission and Draco escaped to his room.

Two hours later, he was surprised to see Lucius stride into his chambers, a house elf carrying a large tray following close at his heels.

"I was wondering if you would care to join me for a late evening snack," Lucius asked, his hand sweeping over the tray the house elf had placed on the table.

Draco's stomach growled and he gave Lucius a sheepish grin. "Thanks, Dad."

Lucius stiffened. "You've never called me anything but 'Father' before."

"Oh." Draco's gaze shifted to the floor. "I'm sorry."

A hand under his chin raised his head. "Don't be," Lucius said slowly. "I believe I quite like being 'Dad'."

Draco smiled widely and received a smile in return.

* * *

"You remember me, don't you Harry?" The girl flipped her hair behind her shoulder and waited.

"What part of 'I have amnesia" do you fail to understand?"

The girl frowned.

"I just thought that since we were friends, I might jog your memory. My name's Lavender. Lavender Brown."

"Is your best friend named Rose Green?"

"What?" Lavender was confused.

"Nothing. I was wondering, however, about our friendship."

The girl smiled. "Yes, Harry?"

He moved closer to her. "Exactly how good of friends were we?"

"We were the best." She smiled widely.

Harry's gaze ran down the girl's figure. "I'm sure we were. Were you serious earlier? Do you really want to help jog my memory?"

Lavender nodded enthusiastically.

"Then might I suggest that we go someplace..." He reached out and fingered a lock of her hair. "More private, perhaps?"

Taking his hand, Lavender led him out of the common room.

Twenty minutes later an agitated Harry returned, Lavender trailing behind him. Both of their robes were mussed.

Surveying the common room, Harry said in a loud, cross voice, "Dear God, people. Why didn't one of you think to inform me that I was gay?"

* * *

"Swish and flick," Lucius instructed.

Draco tried it again. There was nothing but a bit of fizzle at the end of his wand.

"Hmm... I do hope nothing has happened to your wand. Perhaps if I helped." Stepping behind Draco, he wrapped one hand around Draco's wrist. "Let's try this again."

Concentrating as hard as he could because he didn't want to disappoint his father, Draco let his wand hand be guided as he commanded, "Wingardium Leviosa."

The feather rose, floating in the air.

"Good. Quite good." Lucius released Draco and moved away. "Now try this one. Lumos!"

Furrowing his brow while focusing, Draco held up his wand.

"Lumos!"

A bright light appeared from the tip.

"You're catching on extremely quickly," Lucius said.

"Naturally," Draco straightened up as he spoke. "I'm a Malfoy."

* * *

Professor Snape hovered over Harry's cauldron and breathed in deeply. Except for a few third year boys who were serving a detention, the classroom was empty.

"You added the dried nettles one at a time?" Snape asked.

Harry nodded. "I did."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Then you proceeded to add the snake fangs?"

"Only after I'd crushed them. Then I stirred in the stewed horn slugs."

Taking a step back, Snape waved his hand at the cauldron and the one ingredient that remained on the table. "You may continue."

Carefully, Harry removed the cauldron from the fire before adding the porcupine quills. As he began to stir the mixture, Snape glared at him.

"Is there something wrong? I did it right, didn't I?"

The intensity of the glare went up a notch.

"That you did, Mister Potter. Your potion is perfectly brewed."

"Maybe something inside of me remembered how to do it," Harry said excitedly. "Maybe that's the reason it came out so well."

Snape shook his head. "That is exceedingly unlikely."

* * *

"And this is where the thestrals are kept."

Entering the stable, Draco saw the fierce beasts and instinctively moved closer to his dad who was still talking.

"Thestrals can only be seen by those who have witnessed death first hand," Lucius was explaining. He looked at Draco. "I hope that you'll never be able to view them."

Draco gulped back the words that he could see them already and only nodded his head. He didn't want to cause Lucius any more disappointment.

"What else is there to see, Dad?" he asked as they exited the stables.

"We still have the formal gardens, the kennels, the maze, the woods, and the chapel."

Draco's eyes widened. "We own all that?"

"That and more. Malfoys have residences in several other countries." Lucius put his arm around Draco's shoulders. "One day, Draco, you will be the Head of the Family and all of this will be your responsibility."

Looking around at all, Draco could only hope that that day was long in coming. He was never going to be ready to take charge of all of this.

* * *

"Are you seriously telling me that I spoke in some sort of snake language and opened up a secret passageway?"

Ron nodded.

"And then we went down into this dark, dank place?"

Ron nodded again.

"Even though I knew full well that there was a basilisk down there?"

Ron nodded a third time.

Harry turned to face Hermione. "And the year before we had to outwit several death traps to get to some place where a bloke wanted to kill me?"

This time both Hermione and Ron nodded.

Harry gulped, fear in his eyes.

"Am I really that incredibly stupid?"

* * *

Draco stared at the broom. "Are you sure about this?"

Lucius nodded. "Absolutely. Hold your hand over the broom and say 'Up'."

With some degree of trepidation, Draco did so and was quite shocked when the shaft of the broom whacked firmly into his palm. A moment later he was ecstatic as, mounted on the broom, he soared above his ancestral holdings, his father on his own broom beside him.

"This is brilliant," he yelled. His words whipped out his mouth by the wind.

"You are quite the natural. You always were," complimented Lucius, pulling his own broom close to Draco's. "But that is to be expected. After all, you are a Malfoy."

Draco beamed at the praise.

* * *

"We're counting on you to catch the Snitch." A boy he didn't know clapped Harry on his back.

He still wasn't sure about this whole Quidditch thing. Ron had taken him out flying the day before and though he'd wobbled a bit at first, he'd soon straightened out. It had been fun. It had been great. But now he was expected to play a ruddy game on broomstick and he wasn't so sure about that.

All the smiles and encouraging words surrounding him only increased his nervousness for some reason. It was as if they weren't really smiling, but showing their teeth.

"You don't have to do this, Harry," Hermione said. "No one expects it of you."

"Oh do be quiet, Hermione," Ron admonished. "Of course we expect it. Harry's the best Seeker Gryffindor's ever had. Nothing will go wrong."

After the game, Ron and Hermione argued again.

"I told you we shouldn't have forced him to play."

"It's not my fault, Hermione. Not like I knew he'd do that."

Harry looked at both of them.

"I caught the Snitch. That's what you wanted, isn't it?"

Ron face screwed up as if in pain and Hermione looked uncomfortable.

"We know you caught it," Hermione stated. "It's just that you kicked at the Hufflepuff Seeker's broom to get to it first."

"That's against the rules?" Harry asked.

Ron's face relaxed into a smile of relief. "He didn't know the rules. That's why he did what he did. Knew there had to be an explanation."

Hermione continued to stare at Harry so he offered her a weak smile of apology for his mistake.

After a few seconds, she let out a put-upon sigh. "There are tons of rules,and I suppose I'm going to have to teach you all of them."

Ron let out a snort. "You're in for it now. Next thing you know, she'll be having you read Hogwarts, A History.

"That mightn't be a bad idea," Hermione mused.

* * *

Draco finished his dessert and laid his fork and knife on his plate just so.

"I'm pleased to see that you've remembered how to act civilised," Narcissa said, taking a sip of wine.

"Thank you, Mother."

Looking toward the end of the table, he caught Lucius's eye. All of those hours his dad had spent drumming dining etiquette into his head had paid off. He gave his dad a wink and a little thrum of happiness ran through him when he received one in return.

* * *

Harry looked at his small pile of presents. It had only taken a moment to tear open all of them. A book from Hermione, candy from Ron, and from the people whom Hermione told him were his relatives, a piece of broken wire.

It was only when he unwrapped the gift from Ron's mother that he was slightly taken aback.

"What is it?" he looked at package in his hands with horror.

"It's a jumper. Mum knits you one every year."

"And... and I wear them?"

"You love them."

"Maybe I should put it in a drawer." He looked at Ron's face. "Save it for a special occasion," he added.

Ron grinned. "No need for that. If it gets damaged, I'm sure Mum would make you another one."

Harry managed a weak smile. "How very nice of her."

* * *

Draco sat on one of the parlour chairs reading a new book his father had given him for Christmas. His father was seated on the sofa, also reading. Outside, snowflakes were falling, making soft patters against the window as they hit before melting. Inside, the fire, as well as some ancient warming charm, which Lucius had explained kept the room more than comfortable.

He'd awoken that morning to find a stack of presents next to his bed. He'd sat for almost an hour simply staring at them. It had only been when his father had entered the room and expressed surprise that they were all still wrapped that he felt the impetus to begin opening them.

Now as he sat quietly, although he still had no memory of his past, he had to believe that this quiet Christmas, sitting here, warm and safe with his father, was the best he'd ever experienced.

* * *

"Eeek!" Harry let out a screech of fright and reached for his wand. He'd been waiting for Flitwick to arrive for their private lesson when a misshapen creature had tapped him on the shoulder. Quickly he backed away from it.

"Is Harry Potter all right?" The creature began to close the distance.

"Get away from me." Harry pointed his wand. "Stay away or I'll... I'll..."

The trouble was, Harry really didn't know what he'd do. He'd been taught a few charms and spells, but he didn't see how making it float, cheering it up, or repairing it might help the situation. There was no weapon for him to spell away or block, and he certainly did not want to summon it.

"Did Dobby do something wrong?"

The thing was right in front of him.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Harry shouted.

Professor Flitwick arrived just in time to see it stiffen, then topple over.

"Oh dear," he exclaimed, looking back and forth between Harry and the thing on the floor. "I believe we need to expand your education. I'll talk to the Headmaster about having Care of Magical Creatures added to your curriculum at once."

Harry folded his arms across his chest and pouted. Was it too much to ask that people be impressed with his defeat of this minion of evil?

* * *

"I don't think that I can do this," Draco said slowly.

Sitting on one of his favourite parlor chairs, Lucius frowned. "The elf must be punished. It spilled tea on you."

"Only a few drops. And she tripped. It wasn't as if she did it on purpose."

"Draco," Lucius said, a thread of warning in his voice. "If you don't choose a punishment, then I will."

"Couldn't I spill tea on her?"

"Boiling hot tea?

Draco shook his head. "I was thinking just pouring a little out of my cup."

"That will certainly not do."

Biting his lip, Draco tried to think of something suitable.

"Miffy," he finally said. "Do you see that sofa cushion there? I want you to hit yourself with it hard. Three times."

"Certainly, Master Draco." The elf hurried to comply. After thumping herself with the cushion, she wobbled back to his side. "Will that be all, Master Draco?"

"Yes." There was a brief pause. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"Oh no, sir."

"Good."

Draco turned away from the elf to see his dad shaking his head in dismay.

"You are truly hopeless with them."

Grinning, Draco shrugged. "I suppose even Malfoys can't be perfect at everything."

Lucius smiled back. "Bite your tongue."

* * *

"Did you see that?" Harry asked as he, Ron, and Hermione exited the Potions classroom. Unlike most of his other classes, Professor Snape had insisted that he attend both his regular class as well as his remedial lessons on Saturday.

"See what?" Ron asked.

"That girl. She was going to hex me before Snape caught her at it."

Ron turned around to see whom Harry was referring to. "Oh, that was Pansy. She hates you."

"She hates me?" Harry was shocked. "What did I ever do to her?"

"Didn't have to do anything. She's a Slytherin. The whole lot of them are evil."

"That's not quite true, Ron, and you know it," Hermione interjected. "Besides, I think I know why she was thinking of doing it. Because of Draco. They were close friends, you know."

"Who's Draco?" Harry asked, causing Ron to let out a groan and Hermione to shake her head.

"Please Harry, don't ask," she said as they headed up the stairs to Gryffindor tower. "It would take much too long to explain. Suffice it to say that I believe she blames you for Draco being obliviated."

"Obli... Oh, he was the boy who was with me?" He turned to glance once more at the girl who was still staring angrily at him. "But why would she blame me? He was my friend, too."

"Um... not quite," Hermione said while Ron let out a snort.

"Then why were we in the Owlery alone together in the middle of the night?" Harry asked. He thought about what he'd just asked and something occurred to him. "Was I shagging him?"

Ron began to cough so hard that Hermione was forced to pound him on the back. Harry thought she did it rather harder than necessary.

* * *

Draco looked around the bedroom. It was in one of the unused wings of the Manor and although the house elves kept it free from dust, there was a general stuffiness in the air from nonuse.

Lucius stood next to an antique wardrobe. "This belonged to your Great-Aunt Melinda Malfoy, who used it when she wanted to learn more about her various suitors."

"She did it with a wardrobe?"

Lucius shook his head. "No, she used what's inside. Melinda somehow obtained a boggart. She would invite a likely suitor up to her rooms, then request that he open the wardrobe door. It would give her an insight into what he feared most, so that she might use that knowledge against him later."

"What's a boggart?"

"It shows your greatest fear. To defeat the boggart you must imagine your fear as something harmless or silly and speak the incantation - 'Riddikulus'. Your laughter is what defeats it."

Draco swallowed hard. "Great-Aunt Melinda must have been a real riot."

Lucius hid a small smile. "I don't believe she ever did get married."

Taking hold of his courage, Draco stepped forward next to Lucius and opened the wardrobe door. For a moment nothing happened and he wondered if boggarts slept. Then out arose a dark shape. From tattered sleeves, a scaly gray hand emerged.

Draco was confused. What the heck was this? Shouldn't he at least be able to recognise his greatest fear?

Lucius, next to him, stumbled back and let out a small gasp. Draco turned and saw that his dad had paled, his face looked stricken. Reaching out, he clasped Lucius's hand.

"Dad! Imagine it as something else and say 'Riddikulus'." Lucius turned, panic in his eyes. "Dad!" Draco urged, the thing coming closer to them.

Nodding, Lucius eyed the monster and it seemed to shrink.

"Riddikulus," Lucius shouted. Within seconds it was half its size, the hood falling back to reveal a house elf in oversized robes.

When Lucius let out a bitter laugh, the boggart disappeared back inside the wardrobe.

Still grasping his dad's hand, Draco led him over to the bed where they both sank down, relieved that it was over. Only the sounds of their shaky breathing broke the silence.

At last Lucius spoke quietly. "I must apologise for that disgusting display of weakness."

"What was that?" Draco asked softly.

"A Dementor. A nasty creature that feeds upon pleasant memories and thoughts. Prolonged exposure can lead to one's powers being leeched away. One's soul being lost."

He took a deep breath before continuing. "I was fortunate that when I was imprisoned in Azkaban, they were no longer its jailors. However, their evil, their presence had permeated into the very stone foundations of that accursed place. I had no idea that it had so seriously affected me until just now."

Draco wrapped his arms around his father's waist, doing his best to enfold him, protect this man that had come to mean so much to him. He laid his head upon his shoulder.

"I won't let them harm you. Ever," Draco whispered fervently. "I promise you."

"There is no need for that." Although Lucius tone was brisk and businesslike, he didn't make a move to remove himself from Draco's embrace. "They are now servants of our Dark Lord."

Draco raised his head, looking bewildered.

"The Dark Lord? Who's that?"

* * *

Harry stared at Dumbledore in shock. "Are you telling me that I'm supposed to be the one that kills that freak?"

Sitting behind his desk, Dumbledore nodded. "Do you wish for me to repeat the prophecy? It says-"

"No!" Harry shook his head, closed his eyes, and silently wished that he could block out the reality of his life just as easily.

"I am very sorry, Harry."

"But Voldemort... he's powerful. He even survived that Avada-curse thingee that bounced off of my forehead. So, what’s this secret power that I have and how do I use it to stop him?"

"That, I regret to say, is something I cannot answer."

"What?" Harry screeched.

"Whatever power you possess is still as unknown to us as it is to Voldemort."

"And none of you have ever considered this to be a problem?"

Dumbledore looked at him sadly. "Recently, I thought that we might have a way to discover it. However, that was not to be."

Harry eyed the Headmaster. "Have there been any prophecies since? Something that's a bit more useful, like step-by-step instructions on how to kill an unkillable psycho?"

"I'm afraid not."

"In that case, how long do you think I'll be able to run away before Voldemort catches me?"

Dumbledore let out a soft chuckle.

Harry weakly smiled back and pretended it had been a joke.

* * *

"Goyle," Voldemort hissed.

A large, hulking man moved closer, his body shuddering slightly under the weight of his master's stare. "Yes, my Lord?" he stammered as he kneeled down.

"I have missed you recently. On several of our excursions it has been noted that you were not among us. Pray, tell me. What is so important that it has caused you to absent yourself from my side?"

"I... I'm sorry, Master. I have obligations to my work and my family."

"I would be most happy to relieve you of those."

Goyle paled and his quaking grew worse. "Please, Master, I will do better. I promise you."

"I am confident that you will. But first, I ask of you a favour. A way to prove your continued loyalty to me."

"Anything."

Voldemort motioned to Pettigrew. "Please inform our friends that Mister Goyle has generously volunteered his services."

Pettigrew nodded. Shooting Goyle a malicious smile, he scuttled through the doorway.

"Master? What is it you wish for me to do?" Goyle asked, unable to hide his nervousness as he rose to his feet.

"You will see," was the only reply he received.

A moment later, Pettigrew returned with Dauntmoor. Following behind them were two Dementors.

Dauntmoor pointed at Goyle. "Take him to my workroom," he ordered.

The Dementors glided forward. Goyle backed up, twisting his head to look at Voldemort in desperation. "Please, Master, I beg of you. I am loyal. I swear."

"They're not going to kill you," Voldemort stated. "The exact opposite, in fact. For now."

Still begging for mercy, Goyle attempted to fight off the hands of the Dementors but failed. Even after the Dementors dragged him from the room, his pleas and whimpers of fear could still be heard.

Dauntmoor bowed. "My Lord, I am most grateful to you for your assistance."

"Inform me when the process is complete," Voldemort answered. "I am most impatient to test the results of your work."

"Of course, Master." With a swish of his robes, Dauntmoor left.

Moments later, somewhere deep within the building, Goyle began to scream, the sound echoing down the hallways and reverberating against the stone walls.

* * *

In different parts of the country, two boys woke up. They were both slick with sweat as they tried to figure out what they'd just seen.

* * *

Draco perched on the edge of the sofa, his back ramrod straight, as he faced his mother in her private study over tea.

"Lucius has asked me to speak with you." As she looked at him, her eyes darted to the scar on his forehead and her mouth pursed for a moment. "You may have felt, since your return, that I’ve been… unwelcoming. I want to assure you that you are my son and that I love you dearly."

He stared at her. Although he didn’t remember how she’d acted before he’d lost his memory, he had a hard time seeing her as an affectionate mother.

"You don’t hate me?" he stammered out.

"Of course not. I’m afraid that your appearance, however, is affecting me most strongly." She took a sip of her tea, as if she might find the courage to continue there. "It must be the spell. I know it must, but no matter how hard I try, you feel like a stranger to me. No part of you calls out to me. You are like a cuckoo in the nest."

"Do you think…" Draco hesitated. "Do you think that once I look like myself again, you’ll feel differently?"

Narcissa gazed at him bravely. "I’m sure I will."

* * *

"I will leave the two of you alone so that you can chat in private," Professor McGonagall said as she swept out of her office, closing the door behind her.

"How are you, Harry?"

Harry studied the man in front of him. He appeared tired. His clothes were worn in spots and tired-looking, too. His eyes, however, were kind.

"I’m sorry, but I really don’t remember you, Mister Lupin."

"That’s quite all right. I do hope they informed you of who I am?"

"Professor McGonagall said you were a friend of my mother and father’s."

"I had that honour."

Harry took a deep breath. "Ron told me that you were also a werewolf."

Remus nodded. "I am that, as well." He leaned forward and put his hand on Harry’s shoulder. "Please be assured that I would never harm you. I cared for…" he paused, then shook his head as if dispelling a strange notion.

"I cared for both your parents," Remus continued. "You and I became close during your third year and you are quite important…" he paused again.

"What’s wrong?" Harry asked.

"There’s nothing wrong. You just seem different. You look the same, even smell the same, but I can’t help feeling that something’s not quite right."

"Of course something’s not right. I lost my memory."

Remus smiled gently in response. "I’m sure that’s it."

* * *

Lucius sat at his desk in the study facing Draco, who was seated in a nearby armchair.

"There are certain things that I still need to teach you, Draco."

Draco wondered what his father would teach him next. They'd practiced spells and charms several hours a day. They'd set up a potions lab in one of the dungeons and Draco hoped that they wouldn't work there today. Despite Lucius's patient teaching, he was still pants at creating potions.

"There are spells that you will need to learn in order to protect yourself properly."

"I assume you're talking about the Unforgivables," Draco's voice cracked a bit on the last word, so he cleared his throat. "I read about them in one of your books."

"Then you know what they are and what they do."

Draco nodded. "Cruciatus causes pain. Imperius takes away the will. Avada Kedavra kills."

"Well done." Lucius said proudly. "You have been quite apt in performing other spells,. I expect you to have no problem with these."

"How... how am I going to learn them?"

"House-elves."

Draco folded his arms and looked mutinous.

Lucius noted the lack of enthusiasm and continued. "There is an extremely old house elf and-"

"No."

"Do be reasonable, Draco," Lucius said in a huff of frustration. "It's hobbling around. Almost dead anyway. It's practically a mercy killing."

"No," Draco repeated.

Lucius closed his eyes and willed himself to be patient with the boy. "Pixies?" This suggestion also received a negative shake of the head.

"Gnomes? Dogs? Rats?"

At last Lucius sighed heavily. "We could perhaps use bugs. Ugly, destructive bugs that eat the crops of Muggle farmers and threaten their livelihood."

Draco brightened. "I think that would be okay."

Still not quite believing that he was doing this, Lucius headed off to request that several ugly, destructive bugs be gathered up and brought to him.

"Dad?"

Lucius turned to face Draco, who was toeing the carpet and looking slightly embarrassed.

"Um... thank you," Draco finally stammered out.

Draco watched as Lucius nodded, then continued out the door. There was no doubt about it. He had the best dad in the entire world.

* * *

Harry glared at Hermione and held his aching nose.

"That freakin' hurt."

"You were supposed to block it, Harry."

"You did it when I wasn't ready." Harry sank down next to Ron on the sofa the Room of Requirement had provided. He leaned back against the cushions and looked at the ceiling.

"I'm going to die, aren't I?"

Hermione sat down on the other side of him. "You shouldn't be so discouraged. You’re getting better."

"Oh, he's definitely going to die," Ron stated.

"Ron!" Hermione snapped.

"What? He can't even beat you, and you're not that great. You spend too much time thinking about what spell to throw. Voldemort is going to kill him."

Harry twisted his head until he could see Ron. "Gee thanks, mate."

"He's going to get squashed like a bug." Ron added. "Until there's nothing left of him but squishy bug parts."

Harry groaned and stood up. "Let's try it again," he said to Hermione. "I don't want to be icky bug parts."

"Squishy bug parts," Ron corrected him.

This time when Hermione tried to hex him, Harry blocked it. She tried a different hex and he blocked that one as well. It happened again. And again.

Ron grew quiet on the sofa, watching the exchange intensely. When Hermione took a moment to gather her strength to throw a more powerful one, he pointed his wand at Harry’s back.

Harry spun around and threw up a shield.

"That was very good, Harry!" Hermione said excitedly.

"Thank Ron," was the reply. "He gave me the incentive. I really really don’t want to be squishy bug parts."

Ron leaned against the back of the sofa and preened.

Which was why he was completely surprised when Harry turned the sofa he was sitting on into a bathtub filled with water and bubbles.

* * *

"Goyle," Voldemort hissed. He was once more sitting in the chair that served as his throne. A wooden box lay on a table near his elbow.

Nearby, Dauntmoor stood, observing. He was flanked by his constant companions - two Dementors. Also in attendance was the round, rodent-like man, Pettigrew.

The man, the one from the earlier dream, shuffled forward. Goyle seemed to have lost weight, his skin sagging on him loosely. His fear was almost palpable. "Yes, Master?" he asked, dropping to his knees.

"You have been most helpful with all of our experiments. Do not think that we are not grateful to you for your participation. Your service to us, however, is coming to an end."

Hope rose in Goyle's eyes. "Thank you, Master. Thank you. I am most exceedingly grateful to you for you generosity."

"I have only one task left for you to perform."

The gleam of hope dimmed. "Anything, Master," he said, his voice quavering.

Voldemort pointed his wand at the man kneeling before him. "Avada Kedavra."

Green light poured forth from Voldemort's wand and struck Goyle in the chest. Goyle gasped and grabbed at the front of his body. Then he gasped again, his eyes wide.

"Master?"

"Congratulations Mister Goyle. You are the second person to have ever survived that curse. You, however, are not even marked from it."

"How...?" Goyle was still fumbling around, feeling his body as if assuring himself that he was, in fact, alive.

"Dauntmoor's little project. You are now almost invulnerable." Voldemort waved his hand dismissively. "Now be on your way. You have served me well."

Not quite believing his good fortune, Goyle rose and stumbled out the door.

There was silence in the chamber for a moment before Dauntmoor approached Voldemort's throne. "Is that wise, Master?"

Instead of answering, Voldemort picked up the box from the table and opened it. Inside was a pouch, which he reached inside and withdrew a crystal. The crystal seemed to struggle in his hand, but he clasped it firmly. Dwelling inside the crystal was a glowing blue sphere of light.

"Pettigrew," Voldemort ordered. His servant hurried closer and was handed the crystal. "Dispose of this, if you would."

His silver hand encircling the crystal, Pettigrew smiled. He tightened his grip until there was the sound of shattering and bits of crystal fell out between his fingers.

From outside the chamber came a scream that was quickly cut off.

Voldemort turned his gaze upon Dauntmoor. "I do not believe that Goyle will be a problem."

* * *

"That's impossible." Snape paced back in forth in Dumbledore's office, shooting Harry an occasional angry look. "I would know if something of that nature was being worked on. I would've been told. Consulted."

"I know what I saw," Harry replied. He turned to Dumbledore. "You believe me, don't you?" he asked urgently, needing to be believed.

"I do not doubt the truth of your statement," Dumbledore replied. "Only the veracity of your dream."

Snape folded his arms across his chest. "It had to be a false sending. Only one person has survived that curse, and we all know the reasons for it. I seriously doubt anyone would give two figs to protect Goyle, much less sacrifice their life for him."

"And I'm telling you that I saw it hit him. It didn't even stun him."

"Bah!" Severus unfolded his arms and resumed his pacing.

"Harry," Dumbledore said slowly and not unkindly, "you have done what you should. You have come and told us of this vision. I will relate it to the others at the next meeting of the Order and it will be discussed thoroughly. In the meantime, the sun is still not yet up, and I believe you have classes in the morning."

Rising from his chair, Harry nodded. Under Dumbledore and Snape's watchful gazes, he left the room.

* * *

"He acted like he'd expected the curse not to work," Draco explained to his father. "Like he knew Goyle wasn't going to be hurt." Draco paused for a moment, remembering his dream. "But then, I think when Pettigrew smashed the crystal, it did work. It killed Goyle."

"The crushing of the crystal or the curse?" Lucius inquired.

Draco shook his head. "I don't know."

Lucius was quiet for a moment. "Although I have pleaded illness and have been uninvolved in the daily running of the organization, I have heard rumours."

"What kind?" Draco moved closer.

Glancing about the parlour, Lucius waved his wand and strengthened the silencing spells already on the room.

"You have read about the Dementor's Kiss, have you not?"

Draco nodded. He'd actually done a bit of research after the earlier incident with the boggart, and the family library had been most helpful in that regard.

"It sucks your soul out, right? Even though it doesn't kill you, you're just kind of empty afterwards."

"Correct. There have been rumours that Voldemort has been experimenting with the Dementors. Many Muggles have been captured, then quietly disposed of later. It is believed that Voldemort is attempting to rein in the power of the Dementor's Kiss and alter it."

"Alter it?" Draco asked. "How?"

"As I said, I'm no longer among the innermost circle, so I am woefully uninformed. However, Voldemort has always been obsessed with the possibility of living forever."

"So - if part of his soul is protected, if part of his soul could never be destroyed, would he be immortal?"

"I do not think such a thing is possible. Now, though, it seems as if Voldemort's experiments might be coming closer to that goal."

* * *

A few days later, Harry was in the process of pouring his latest potion into a vial when a sudden pain struck his forehead. His hand shook and the potion spilled across the table. Placing the vial and ladle down, he clutched at his head, anticipating a tongue-lashing from Snape for his clumsiness.

When no harsh words came, he glanced up to where his professor sat at his desk and saw a similar pained expression on Snape's face as he cradled one of his arms to his chest.

"What's going on?" Harry asked.

"Voldemort. He's calling his followers to him," Snape replied through gritted teeth. "I must go at once. Please inform the Headmaster of my departure."

Harry nodded then followed his professor in a rush out the door. They were both striding down the corridor when another wave of pain hit them. Harry saw Snape stumble and reached out to grab his arms to keep him from falling. They stayed that way, his hands clutching Snape, both breathing harshly until the pain receded.

A moment after, Snape shook himself free and stared down at Harry, his mouth working as if he wanted to say something scathing but was failing at coming up with an appropriate insult.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked.

Wrapping his robes around his body, Snape glared.

"I believe I ordered you to perform a task, not loiter in the hallways."

Harry smiled grimly then raced past him towards Dumbledore's office.

* * *

"Where are you going?" Draco asked, hurrying along in his father's wake.

"Lord Voldemort calls. I must answer."

"You're in no shape to go anywhere." Draco ran in front of Lucius and blocked his way. "I've watched you, you know. I've seen how our daily lessons weaken you. You still haven't recovered from your imprisonment."

"I am perfectly well. I must answer the Dark Lord's summons."

"Fine," Draco stated. "If you're going, then I'm going, too."

"No!" Lucius shouted so vehemently that Draco took a step back, startled. "I forbid it. You will remain here where you are safe."

"Why won't you let me go?" Draco asked.

Lucius looked about the hallway, his face skimming over the portraits of his ancestors while avoiding Draco's assessing gaze.

"My lord... Voldemort... is not what he once was. When I first joined up with him, it was invigorating. You could feel his power humming through your link with him. We stood for keeping Wizardkind pure, and we weren't afraid who knew it."

Lucius paused and looked around. "This is not the place for this discussion." After a brief hesitation, he headed toward the empty study and motioned Draco to follow him. Once inside, the door was locked and warded and silencing spells were evoked.

"Dad?" Draco said, wanting to hear more before his father changed his mind about saying anything and ordered him away.

"Years ago, Voldemort had a chance at becoming Minister of Magic. All knew of his power. When he failed to obtain the post, instead of continuing to work toward the goal he turned to violence. It started out small. There were two Muggles, parents of a student at Hogwarts, who had revealed our presence to other Muggles resulting in the death of a wizard. Voldemort said that they should be punished. That it was justice along with being a lesson. A warning to others that might be tempted to talk."

Lucius waved his wand and a bookshelf moved away from the wall to reveal what appeared to be mirror. Conjuring up a pin, he used it to prick his finger then pressed the blood that welled up against the mirror's surface. The surface shimmered and glowed.

"Soon there were more lessons, more warnings, more deaths, the reasons becoming flimsier until they disappeared altogether. The transition was so gradual that it was not until I was watching the death of a pureborn wizard that I realized how far we were from where we had started. By then it was too late. My lot was thrown in with Voldemort's. If he failed, it meant shame to the family name. Imprisonment. Death. I had crossed my Rubicon."

Lucius reached out and his hand traveled through the mirror's surface. When it emerged again, it was clutching a dark robe and a white mask. For a long moment, Lucius contemplated the empty eye sockets of the mask before raising his gaze to Draco's.

"You are my son. You are the heir to the Malfoy name and fortune. I refuse to allow you to kneel in service to a madman. I will not have your honour tarnished as mine is. This path is one I must walk alone."

Which was why Lucius was furious when he apparated and realized that Draco had flung his arms around him and apparated with him.

* * *

Racing towards Dumbledore's office, Harry turned a corner and bumped into something solid. He was sent sprawling.

"Sorry," he murmured, as he staggered to his feet. He'd run into the professor that Ron had told him taught Defence Against the Dark Arts. Knotlace was the name, he remembered.

Harry started to go past the professor when a hand shot out and grabbed his robes, stopping him.

"Where are you heading off to, Mister Potter? Is there an emergency that I should know about?"

Harry shook his head. Snape hadn't told him so, but he knew this was something he shouldn't tell anyone. "I'm just running an errand for Professor Snape. He wanted me to hurry."

He looked down pointedly at the hand that still clutched his robes. "I really need to be going."

Knotlace looked concerned. "If I may be of assistance-"

The words were cut off when another wave of pain washed over Harry. He put a hand to his forehead and glanced at Knotlace, hoping the man hadn't noticed. Then he saw it.

Knotlace had released his robes to grab at his arm. As he clutched his left forearm, Harry realized that it was the same place he'd seen Snape grab when his dark mark had flared. On Knotlace's face was a similar grimace of pain.

Harry backed up, his gaze still fixed on Knotlace's covered arm. "Perhaps I should just write Dumbledore a note. Or floo him. I think I'll go back to Gryffindor Tower and do that right now."

A hand reached out and grabbed him by the collar of his robes. Harry fumbled for his wand but before he could get it out, it was yanked from his grasp.

"The only place you're going, Mister Potter, is with me," Knotlace snarled, and a chill of foreboding ran up Harry's spine.

A moment later, he felt the pull of a portkey being activated.

* * *

Draco gulped. It had all made sense for him to go with his dad to the Death Eater meeting when they'd been safe at Malfoy Manor. It didn't seem to be such a smart idea when walking down dark corridors to the room where Voldemort was assembling his followers.

His father, who had quickly transfigured a robe and mask similar to his own for Draco, was quietly seething next to him. Draco suspected that the anger was really displaced fear for as they ventured farther into the interior of the building, Lucius kept him close and as separated as possible from everyone else.

The flame of torches that lined the walls flickered wildly, almost in time with the rapid beating of his heart, and did little to illuminate the surroundings. Not that there was all that much to see. There were small knots of other figures dressed in black robes with white masks, similar to the ones that he and Lucius wore to cover their own features.

They had to slow as Death Eaters crowded into the room. Shuffling their feet as they filed in, vying for spots in the corners and along the walls, practically anyplace that would make them less noticeable to their Master. This resulted in there being an open semi-circle nearest to Voldemort.

Draco realized, once he'd entered, that he'd seen this place before. It was the same room he'd seen in his dreams - the dreams where he'd seen Goyle cursed with Avada Kedavra and survive, only to be struck down later when the crystal was crushed.

Peering over the shoulders of those that stood in front of him, he saw Voldemort sitting on his throne-like chair on a raised platform. On the table next to him was the same small wooden box that had been there in his last dream. Standing next to Voldemort was Pettigrew. On the other side of him was a large snake.

Voldemort's red eyes were scanning the crowd, as if searching for someone. As his gaze drew near, Draco ducked back down in an attempt to avoid it.

"Pettigrew." Voldemort motioned his most loyal minion closer "There is one here who does not belong." He made sibilant noises toward the snake which began to uncoil and slowly slither down from the platform.

"Nagini will sniff out this intruder. Go with her and bring me the spy."

The crowd stilled as the snake wound through their number, weaving its head back and forth, its tongue flicking out to taste the air.

Draco took a step closer to his father and pretended to be nonchalant at the sight of the huge serpent winding its way closer. His air of nonchalance fell apart completely when it stopped before him.

"Go away," Draco whispered at it.

"Do stop making hissing noises at the snake," Lucius admonished. "It’s unbecoming and will do no good."

"He’s here!" Pettigrew shouted, having followed the snake’s path. He clutched Draco’s arm and jerked him forward, causing him to stumble. They didn’t stop until they were immediately in front of Voldemort.

Pettigrew released him and returned to Voldemort’s side. The snake had already curled up near the Dark Lord’s feet.

"The boy is with me." Lucius stepped forward to join his son.

Voldemort paid no attention to the elder Malfoy. He pointed a claw-like finger at Draco. "Remove your hood and mask," Voldemort ordered.

His hands trembling, Draco pushed the cloth away from his head. Then, slowly, he removed his mask. There was a gasp from the assembled Death Eaters.

"I see that the presence I sensed, is in fact, here," Voldemort said, looking down at Draco and Lucius. "I thank you, dear Lucius, for delivering Harry Potter to me."

Draco could see a slight stiffening in his father’s stance, but instead of cowering, he moved forward.

"I must apologise, my Lord, but this is not Harry Potter. This is my son, Draco. I would've thought that your informants," Lucius turned and glared daggers at a tall robed figure standing nearby, "might have told you of the incident on the Hogwarts Express."

"Are you questioning my judgment?" The words were spoken softly but the menace in them came through clearly.

Lucius blanched and bowed low. "My Lord, you must understand that-"

There was a hubbub behind them, the sound of loud protestations drowning out Lucius's words. People shuffled and shifted, moving out of the way. The murmur of voices grew into a roar.

Pushing through the mob was Knotlace dragging an angry, struggling Harry Potter. With one hand clamped around the boy's collar, he advanced to where the Dark Lord sat. When he at last reached a spot in front of Voldemort, he bowed low.

"I have brought Harry Potter to you, my Lord," Knotlace announced.

Harry Potter, however, did not bow. He glared mutinously at Voldemort.

"I dreamed you were an ugly git. Didn't realise you were fouler in person. God, what a stench."

Lucius smiled tightly and his arm made a grand encompassing gesture to the new arrivals.

"Here, my Lord, here is Harry Potter for you. Here is the presence you felt."

Voldemort's red eyes went back and forth between the two teenagers. A sound began to issue from his throat. It was harsh and rasping, but unmistakably a laugh. All that heard it felt a chill run down their spines.

"Oh this is most delicious. Truly delectable."

Knotlace took half a step forward. "Master?"

"I do not doubt that some foolish plan of Dumbledore's has been thwarted," Voldemort stated. "He has once more failed to accomplish anything by his ridiculous actions."

There were a few nervous titters of laughter from the crowd, but the main reaction of the Death Eaters was confusion.

"Did he expect for me to split my forces between two targets? Did he believe that he could so easily trick me?"

Pettigrew approached Voldemort's throne. "Master, what would you have us do?"

"You don't understand. None of you do," Voldemort scoffed. "Allow me to make the extent of Dumbledore's ploy obvious to all."

Waving his wand, Voldemort spoke a short incantation. The boy still in Knotlace's grip cried out and his form seemed to shiver.

A moment later, by the light from the torches, all could see that his hair had changed to blond, his skin was pale, and his eyes slate grey.

Draco grabbed Lucius's cold hand in his. "What's going on, Dad? Why does he look like I'm supposed to?"

Lucius's eyes went wide and he shook Draco's hand out of his and backed away.

"Dad?"

"Mister Knotlace," Voldemort intoned, "I believe now would be a good time for you to end your obliviates."

Knotlace released his grip on the blond boy. Clenching his wand, he muttered, "Finite Incantatem" twice.

Draco gasped in a breath, then looked from his place next to Knotlace over to where his father stood next to Harry Potter.

Back to Chapter 3
Chapter 5