Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Behind the Fog (Backup Upload) ❯ Behind the Fog (Backup Upload) 31st Chapter ( Chapter 31 )

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Anything you recognize is property of JK Rowling. Additionally this is not my story. I am uploading this to my own account in support of the author the story belongs to who has been struggling with hackers.

The thing I've most been dreading as a fan is that the story would be removed from the site by the hackers and the author wouldn't have access to their old chapters when the situation was eventually brought under control in the event the site moderators wouldn't be able to give the author their account back.

For anyone interested the author goes by Hancock23 on Fanfiction -dot- net. I will remove the story from my account when Hancock23 has gotten the story safely uploaded elsewhere or has been safely given their account back on Fanfiction -dot- net. Without further ado I give you a backup upload of: Behind the Fog by Hancock23.

PS: This Backup Upload contains minor edits for grammar, spelling, and punctuation. Plus some rewording/restructuring of sentences so they make better sense and flow better. Hope you don't mind me becoming something of a Beta Reader for this Backup Upload Hancock23.

Chapter Thirty - Two Sides of the Same Coin

Things were going slower than he had planned and he didn't like it. One would think that the increased number and calibre of death eaters he now had would push things along but that was not happening, and it was frustrating. For Merlin's sake, even Malfoy could not do something as simple as finding a way to get a hold of his son.

Lucius may be oblivious about his son, but Voldemort was not. The boy was more beautiful than anything else he had ever wanted to possess, but beauty was not all that the boy was made of. There was something about him that he could not put a finger on and it was driving him insane.

It was the first time he laid eyes on the boy after his resurrection that Voldemort first felt like he was forgetting something important. It was a persistent feeling that would not go away and one that grew stronger every time he saw the young Malfoy over the summer holidays. If he did not know that his 'death' at the hands of Potter all those years ago had caused some of his memories to become fuzzy, he would have suspected that someone had somehow obliviated him without his notice which would explain the deja vu he was feeling.

Whatever the case, the nagging feeling would not let him ignore young Draco Malfoy, and the more he looked at the boy, the more drawn and wary he became. All he knew at this point was that Draco Malfoy should under no circumstances be allowed to stay beside Potter or all would be lost. The boy had to be recovered before Dumbledore discovered whatever it was that inspired so much foreboding in his very being.

At that thought, he looked down at the letter that was spread on the desk in front of him. It was a report from one of his loyal death eaters stationed at Hogwarts, and it detailed everything that had happened in the Great Hall that very day. Harry Potter was developing deeper feelings for the Malfoy scion, and the very thought of it made him angrier than it should have.

Deciding to have another word with Lucius, Voldemort snapped his fingers, and a house elf appeared. It was a pathetic little being, and as he saw it whimper in front of him, he could not help the satisfaction he felt. It knew it's place and soon, the rest of the wizarding world would too. He was the last of the Gaunts. The last of the proud line of Salazar Slytherin and Cadmus Peverell before him. Yes, he deserved to be treated as befit his status, and soon, the whole world would fall at his feet.

"Call Lucius to me." He snapped at the thing, and it quickly made its exit. He knew Lucius would be at Malfoy Manor at that time of the afternoon and he settled back in his study chair to wait. He had not accorded anyone but himself and the house-elves permission to apparate through the Gaunt Manor wards and he expected it would take Lucius a few minutes to come through the floo.

Just as he had expected, he heard the floo chime only three minutes later and hurried footsteps made their way towards his study, but he did not look up from his desk until he heard the soft whoosh of robes as someone fell to their knees.

'Yes, even the great Lucius Malfoy knows his place!' Voldemort thought with a pleased sneer on his face as he finally turned his attention to his servant.

He was about to speak when he noticed that the person in front of him was not Lucius but another of his loyal death eaters. This one was strategically positioned at the Ministry of Magic, and he was one of the few that he allowed to come to the manor without being summoned first.

"Permission to speak Master?" The man queried in a strong cold voice that was never heard outside of the presence of his master, and two of the most loyal death eaters. To everyone at the Ministry of Magic and Dumbledore, the man now kneeling at the feet of the dark lord was unremarkable in everything that he was.

His work, personality, wealth, and connections were good, but not exceptional enough to attract attention. He was highly situated at the Ministry, but his department was not deemed as important as most others in the Ministry. All these factors combined allowed him access to high-level information and little to no suspicion when information was leaked to the death eaters.

"We will wait for Lucius." Voldemort said, and the man nodded in acceptance, but made no move to rise from his position, until the dark lord indicated that he should take one of the seats opposite the desk.

They only waited for a couple more minutes until Voldemort heard another chime of the floo and Lucius Malfoy came strutting into the room. The dark lord was eager to know what his man at the ministry had found out, so he dispensed with the usual theatrics and allowed Lucius to take a seat beside his fellow death eater.

"You may speak now." He told his spy the moment Lucius was settled.

"Something odd happened yesterday at the ministry." The spy began and seeing that his master was impatient to know more, he continued. "The wards were lowered once in the morning and again in the early evening. I know for certain that people apparated in and out of the ministry at those times, but I am not privy to their identities. What I can confirm is that whoever they were they apparated directly to and then out of the building's fifth floor."

"Isn't the fifth floor occupied by the Department of International Magical Cooperation?' Lucius asked, although he already knew the answer to his question.

It had been years since the Minister of Magic considered the secrecy of a meeting more important than the security threat posed by lowering the ministry wards even for the short time that it took for people to apparate in or out. Certainly, that had not happened since before the first rise of the Voldemort almost twenty years ago, and that it had happened now arose both curiosity and suspicion in Lucius.

"Yes." The man agreed. "Another thing I know is that the only England ministry officials to take part in the meeting were Dumbledore, Fudge, and Percy Weasley. No one else at the ministry seems to have a clue as to what is going on. It is a curious situation."

Voldemort could not help but agree, it was definitely a curious situation. The fact that the meeting took place in the offices of International Magical Cooperation meant that the meeting was likely attended by foreign dignitaries. A meeting of the International Confederation of Wizards was the most likely, but no matter how much he searched his mind, he could not come up with a reason as to why such a meeting would happen now. To the best of his knowledge, the International Community had decided to wait and see what happened in England before it'd interfere and he wondered whether something had made it change its stance. Voldemort did not doubt that he could still conquer England even with the interference, but cooperation between the countries would make things all the more difficult for him.

"What do you make of this Lucius?" Voldemort asked his righthand man. He hated to admit it, but when it came down to political games, no one was better than Lucius Malfoy.

"If I was to guess, I would say it was an International Confederation of Wizards meeting, but I am surprised it happened at all." The Malfoy patron said, but his face did not betray the proclaimed surprise. "It would make overthrowing the ministry and Dumbledore harder if the International Community has decided to side with the light. However, I doubt that is the case and if I am right, we need to find out whatever is going on as soon as possible."

Voldemort agreed with Lucius, but he had no intention of taking chances that they were wrong. If the International Community had indeed chosen sides, then he would be ready to face them although it was much earlier than he had initially planned.

"Can you find out exactly who attended the meeting?" Voldemort directed this to his spy who had been observing and listening closely to the two men.

"The only way to find out is by getting the information straight from either Fudge, Dumbledore, or Weasley." The man began. "Normally, we would use Legillimency or Veritaserum on either Fudge or Weasley, but the Dragon World Anti Legillimency Spell has closed that avenue to us." The man finished and subconsciously, he and Lucius leant back in the chairs in wariness.

Dragon World had become a dangerous subject to bring up around their master, and neither of them wanted to be the recipient of the dark lord's anger at that very moment.

It was months since that damned store opened and they were not any closer to discovering the owner. Lucius had gone as far as threatening the goblins with removing his business from Gringotts, but the goblins had been steadfast in their refusal. The creatures had never once before failed him; and the fact that they had risked losing his business rather than telling him the identity of the Dragon World owner made him think that there was more going on than he was aware of.

Not knowing was a horrible feeling, and it wasn't helped by the fact that he could detect an almost palpable excitement in the goblins every time he set foot in Gringotts. It was unsettling to see a goblin attempt a smile, and it made Lucius even more convinced that something he was unaware of was afoot.

A suffocating tension in the air drew Lucius' attention back to Voldemort whose eyes had turned even redder than usual. It had been a bad idea to bring up Dragon World in front of the dark lord and the two death eaters resigned themselves to the inevitability of the Cruciatus that they knew was coming.

"What have you found out about Dragon World Lucius?" Voldemort asked in a dangerous voice, and Lucius sighed. There was no escaping the torture now.

"Nothing as of yet." He said bravely, and bit down on his lower lip when the first Cruciatus hit him. It didn't matter that he had been through this more times than he could count, it still burnt every nerve in his body; and it was all he could do to keep himself in his seat and the screams from coming out. He had no idea for how long he was under the curse, and for one moment after he regained his senses, Lucius let himself feel the deep hatred that he at times felt for the dark lord. It was a momentary feeling that disappeared faster than the mad sneer Voldemort wore on his face every time he tortured someone, but it was there all the same.

Slowly, Lucius willed himself to ignore the pain, and his breath evened as the dark lord watched with mocking eyes. Voldemort waited for his servant to collect himself before he addressed both of them.

"It would be foolish to try and acquire information from either Dumbledore, Weasley, or Fudge." He began, and when he saw that they were paying attention, he continued. "We have an advantage if they do not realise that we know anything about the secret meeting and thus we cannot act in England at the moment."

Even before the dark lord had finished talking, Lucius had already caught on to the plan. If they could manage to single out a foreign representative who had attended the meeting, they would be able to acquire the information they needed without attracting any attention. Judging by the England representatives, chances were that the country representatives included either a Minister of Magic or an International Magical Cooperation official. If they targeted an official from a country outside of Europe, chances were that the wizards would not be using the Dragon World spell and there was little probability that the attack would be traced back to death eaters.

"Take care of this Lucius." Voldemort commanded, and Lucius accepted at once. He was the natural choice to deal with this after all.

"Make sure that you do not fail me this time." Voldemort emphasised with undisguised malice in his eyes before turning to his spy.

"Continue your work at the ministry, but try and look into the Dragon World situation. That little shop has become a nuisance, and the situation cannot be allowed to continue." He said.

To be truthful, the shop was more than a nuisance. For the moment, only Remus Lupin had taken the lycanthropy cure, and if Voldemort was not careful, he would lose some of his werewolves on the next full moon. He had never given marks to any of the wolves, and that could become a great weakness since he would not be able to track any of the werewolves if they left his service.

"I will do what I can." The spy said as he stood up knowing that the last statement was a dismissal. After deep bows, both the spy, and Lucius; exited the study, leaving Voldemort to brood.

Everything would begin in the summer, and by year's end, England would have fallen at his feet. His defeat years ago had taught him a valuable lesson and Voldemort was not leaving anything to chance this time around. Not even an act of Merlin would be able to prevent or stop the tragedy that would befall the wizarding world. As he thought of his plans, Voldemort chuckled evilly as he imagined the despaired faces of Harry Potter, Dumbledore, and the Order as they realized that there was nothing they could do to save themselves let alone everyone else.

In good humour, Voldemort pulled a chess board that sat on the right side of his desk directly in front of him. He palmed a white knight in his hand, and was about to make his opening move when he suddenly felt the years fall away.

A younger version of him sat in the library at Malfoy Manor, having just finished reading a book on the Fidelius Charm. He was frustrated that there was no way to break the charm and impatient to kill the Potter child, before the prophecy came to pass. He was contemplating what to do when he heard a shuffling noise and a look in the direction where he had heard the sound revealed the Malfoy heir, who was crawling towards him.

Voldemort had no idea why the one and a half year old toddler was there, but he watched in fascination as it crawled its way to his side and struggled to lift itself on the armrest of his chair. The natural reaction would have been to hex it or call an elf, but there was a light in its eyes that should not have been in a child of its age. In shock, he watched the young Draco Malfoy correctly move a white knight to checkmate the black king on a chess board that someone had abandoned on a small table next to his seat.

Even after the memory had faded into the background, and Voldemort could now perceive the harsh angles of his study; he could still clearly recall the pleased smile of a toddler who had had no business understanding chess at his age. As he sat alone in his study, the dark lord allowed himself for the first time, to be terrified by someone who was magically weaker than him; because he now knew who the owner of Dragon World was.

::Hogwarts After Dinner::

Grudgingly Harry made his way to the headmaster's office immediately after dinner as Dumbledore had instructed. He had no idea what Dumbledore wanted to speak about since he had been given the weekend off, but he figured that it had to be important if the headmaster had decided that it could not wait for the training session planned for the following day.

As usual, the gargoyles guarding the headmaster's office sprung open the moment he whispered the password that he had been given earlier in the day and he quickly ascended the stairs leading to the main office. At the top of the stairs, Harry did not bother to knock or announce his presence because he had found out months ago that there were intruder wards around the place that alerted Dumbledore whenever someone approached his office. Instead, he waited to be called in.

He did not have to wait long, and when he entered the room, he found that Dumbledore had already rearranged the office to create the magical space that they used for his training. Harry had no idea what sort of spells Dumbledore used, but for their sessions, the room appeared as large as a classroom and all the silver objects and portraits that usually littered the place were nowhere to be found.

"I thought we had no training again until tomorrow?" He asked the headmaster, who was seated on a simple wooden chair at the very centre of the room.

"Things have changed my boy." The man said, causing Harry to raise his eyebrow in question. "Have a seat Harry."

Harry could barely catch the wand movement that conjured a chair just opposite the headmaster, and he was once again reminded that Dumbledore was the strongest wizard alive. Despite his old age, the man was fast and he more often than not used non-verbal magic as opposed to verbal magic.

In the early days of training, Harry would go back to his rooms with a myriad of injuries because he was unable to react fast enough to the spells that Dumbledore used, but over time, he had honed his reflexes well enough to either dodge or erect an appropriate shield. That said, he was still a long way from being able to duel at par with Dumbledore let alone Voldemort.

"Harry, you are aware that I attended an International Confederation of Wizards meeting yesterday, correct?" Dumbledore began, when Harry was comfortably seated across from him.

"Yes sir, you mentioned it." Harry responded, and waited for the man to get to the point.

"I cannot tell you everything that was said; but as a direct result of the meeting, Hogwarts will soon be home to forty exchange students for the foreseeable future."

Whatever Harry had expected, it was not that. He had become so used to things always revolving around Voldemort that he had expected Dumbledore to go straight into one aspect of Voldemort or another.

Just as he was about to ask the headmaster to go on, something occurred to him that made his blood run cold.

"It's not another tournament, is it?" He asked, dread clogging his throat, and making his words come out a bit strained. He still had nightmares about the graveyard when Voldemort killed Cedric Diggory at the end of his fourth year, and he did not think he could handle something like that again.

"No, it's not a tournament." Dumbledore said, and there was no mistaking the pity in his voice and eyes as he looked at Harry. Harry was a tool, created and sharpened for the sole purpose of defeating Voldemort, but it was impossible not to feel sorry for the boy given what he had gone through over the years.

"Why are they coming here then?"

"Harry, I want you to listen to me very carefully." Dumbledore said sombrely, and in reaction to that tone of voice, Harry sat up straighter in his chair. "So far, I have only taught you how to be a fire elemental wizard, but you are capable of so much more. You are what is known as an all-elemental wizard."

"What is that?" The teenager asked curiously.

"An all-elemental wizard is one who can use and manipulate all elements of nature. You have already learnt fire, and with enough training, you will also be able to wield water, earth, and air. There are others, sub-elements; but fire, water, earth and air are the main ones."

"Why didn't you tell me about this earlier?" He asked. It all made sense to him now. Over the months, Harry had felt his magic grow stronger and become restless, and no matter how much training he did, there was always a dissatisfaction. It was as if his magic was itching to be used, but Harry could not figure out exactly how he needed to use it.

"It was not the right time." The headmaster replied, and Harry felt anger spark in him. This was yet another thing that Dumbledore had hidden from him, just like he had done with the prophecy last year; and Harry was quickly getting fed up with the secrets. It was common sense to him that training as an all-elemental wizard would improve his chances of defeating Voldemort as compared to being a fire elemental. It made no sense to Harry that Dumbledore had not told him earlier, and it made him warier around Dumbledore than he had ever felt he needed to be before.

"Why is this the right time?' He asked, once he had managed to control his anger.

"I cannot go further into it right now, but the International Community has reason to believe that you are uncommonly powerful and the foreign students will be here to secretly monitor and report on you." Dumbledore said. "You must not allow anyone to know the true extent of your abilities. Not even your friends, miss Weasley, or Mr Malfoy for that matter."

Harry could understand hiding how powerful he was from the public to catch Voldemort by surprise, but he did not understand why he had to lie to the people closest to him. Dumbledore had always insisted that he should always be open with his friends and for the man to be suggesting this now let Harry know that there was more that was going on than the old man was letting on.

There was a time that he would have simply trusted the headmaster when he said that all would be revealed in time but that time had come and gone. That time had been before he realized that Dumbledore was willing to do anything for the greater good. That time was before he knew that Draco was an expendable piece in this war that was looming in front of them all. Now, Harry could not afford to trust the word of his old mentor.

"Do they know that I am an all-elemental wizard?" He asked instead of asking the question he truly wanted the answer to. Dumbledore would not be moved from his decision to hide things from him, and Harry knew that he would have to figure things out for himself rather than blindly waiting.

"Not yet and I want it to remain that way." There was a warning in Dumbledore's eyes and Harry almost rolled his eyes in annoyance. "The students that will be coming will all be the top students in their respective magical schools, and you must always be on the lookout because we have no idea what kind of magic they will employ in their quest for the truth."

"I understand."

"From now on, you will need to carry your invisibility cloak and marauders map wherever you go." Harry nodded in agreement. It made no difference to the usual because he already did that since he began following Draco in an attempt to find out what the boy was up to.

"Another thing Harry, you may not have noticed this, but your magic tends to leak out even when you are not under emotional distress. A keen wizard can tell the magical strength of another wizard by the amount of magic that leaks out of them. We have until the end of the Easter holidays for you to master concealing techniques.'

Harry already knew that his magic made things happen whenever he got angry, but he'd had no idea that his magic leaked out even under normal circumstances. Thinking about it, he could recall instances where people looked at him weirdly for no reason he could discern or even appear a bit drunk whenever they stayed around him for too long. He should have realised it sooner, since they had been taught about magic intoxication in fifth year magical theory but then again, theory had never been his strong point.

"Will I have more training sessions or will we have to put off normal training until I have mastered the concealment magic?" He asked.

"We cannot afford to take a break; so I am afraid this will mean more lessons." Dumbledore warned.
"I see." Harry said as he looked around the room sadly.

Increasing the hours he needed to train on top of everything else meant that he would need to quit quidditch sooner than he had thought, but the worst was that there would be fewer hours available to spend with Draco. He hated that aspect of things, but he also understood the necessity of it. He wanted Voldemort to be gone so that he could concentrate on sorting out his very complicated life.

"As you have noticed, I have already prepared the room for training." Dumbledore said as he stood and his chair vanished into thin air. "However, we will do something different today."

Harry's chair also vanished when he stood up, and he withdrew his wand from his jeans ready to start whatever Dumbledore had in mind.

"You will not need your wand today." The headmaster said, and although Harry was sceptical, he returned his beloved holly to the back pocket of his jeans. "I want you to begin training with water as soon as possible and to do that, you must be able to sense water just as you did with fire."

"Water is all around us Harry." Dumbledore continued. "I want you to try and feel the water in the atmosphere."

Harry did not even have the slightest idea on how to start doing what Dumbledore was asking. When he had begun learning to control fire, the headmaster had at least given him a lit candle, and he wished that the man had thought to provide him with a basin of water or something in this case.

"The best way to reach out to the water in the atmosphere is to meditate." Dumbledore counselled. "You must close your mind to everything else and allow your magic to reach out to the water in the air."

Honestly, Harry could not make heads or tails of what the man was saying, and either way, he had always been rubbish at clearing his mind for meditation. Nevertheless, he sat on the floor in a lotus position and attempted to clear his mind, but his thoughts would not cease. The more he tried clearing his mind, the more his thoughts tried to be heard, and in frustration, he opened his eyes to find Dumbledore looking at him with a contemplative face.

"Maybe that is the wrong approach for you my boy." Dumbledore remarked as he saw the frustration. He should have remembered that Harry had not managed the required discipline to master meditation for occlumency the previous year. He needed to find another way to teach Harry, and he was about to call off the lesson until tomorrow when a sudden idea struck him.

"Close your eyes Harry and take a deep breath." Dumbledore instructed, and Harry did so after rolling his eyes at the weird attempt at what he thought would be hypnotism.

For his part, Dumbledore had no intention to hypnotise Harry, but instead non-verbally cast a small spell that would bring Harry's fears to the forefront of his mind. For his idea to work, Harry had to be mortally afraid and desperate.

If it worked, Harry would be able to use the water in the air in a wild attempt to protect himself and his loved ones. If he managed it one time, then the feeling of using water would be engraved in him, and he would be able to do it a second time and then some.

"Imagine yourself on the Hogwarts express, heading to Grimmauld Place with your friends for the Easter break." Dumbledore said, and Harry had no problem imagining himself there. However, he was not in the train carriage with his friends but with Draco. Draco was saying something, but Harry could not hear him properly, because Dumbledore was drowning his voice.

"Suddenly, the train is attacked, and in the blink of an eye, your carriage is ripped from the rest, and you are apparated to the graveyard in Little Hangleton. Voldemort and his death eaters have surrounded you and your friends, and your wand is neither in your pocket nor your hand." Harry was beginning to breathe heavily as the scenario played out in his head. Draco had fallen next to him in the sudden apparition and in a voice that sounded as if it had travelled through a tunnel, he could hear Dumbledore say 'kill the spare' as Voldemort once had.

Everything stopped for Harry in that moment and reality invaded the made-up scenario as he remembered that Dumbledore did not intend for Draco to survive the war.

Suddenly, the enemy was not Voldemort but his old mentor who deceived while his blue eyes twinkled jovially. A scene from a horrible future played in Harry's mind as he watched Draco's silver eyes dull to a washed-out grey, and his hair fall limply around his lifeless head.

In an angry haze, as Harry stared at the lifeless husk that had once been his beautiful dragon, he decided that Dumbledore needed to die. As if to respond to his will, Harry's magic reached out to everything around him, and Dumbledore who had been calmly waiting to see if Harry would succeed, heard a mad rushing as the water from the Great lake collided with the castle walls and attempted to break through to fulfil their master's desire.

The crush of the water on the walls rocked the castle and Dumbledore who had been unprepared for the impact fell on his back; worry gnawing at him as the relentless water battled with the castle wards for dominance. It felt like an eternity before the crushing stopped, but even that relief was short lived; because the headmaster could now hear screams from all around the castle, and lake creatures that had been violently and suddenly ripped from their habitat.

In numb shock, Dumbledore looked in Harry's direction to find that he had collapsed, probably from magical drain. When he moved closer, he saw that the boy was crying and muttering something in his unconsciousness; and he crept closer only to hear Harry repeat, like a litany, the one name that should not have been on his lips in that particular moment.

Draco...Draco...Draco...Draco...Draco...Draco…Draco…

Uploader's Note: This Has Been A Backup Upload of Chapter 30 of Behind the Fog by Hancock23.

Chapter 31 - The Bond and The Lord

Harry did not know whether he woke up to shouting or if it was the shouting that woke him, but whatever the case was, he was still annoyed that he was awake in the first place. Resigning himself to the fact that he would not be going back to sleep, he opened his eyes only to realize that he was not in his bedroom in the East Tower. He was in a white room with high ceilings; and it took him less than a second to realize that he was once again in the Hospital Wing.

He tried sitting up on the bed only to fall back with a groan when every part of his body hurt at the slightest movement. He felt like he usually did after spending an entire summer's day working in Aunt Petunia's garden at Privet Drive, but he had no idea what had happened to make him this exhausted. Frowning in confusion and unable to move, he directed his attention to the shouting that he could now tell was coming from a few meters to the right of his bed.

The door to the infirmary was in that direction, and now that he was concentrating, he could recognise the loud voice as Ginny's. She was trying to gain admittance to the room, but for whatever reason; Madam Pomfrey was not having it.

"We have every right to see him." Ginny was insisting angrily; and Harry surmised that she had not come alone.

"Keep your voice down Miss Weasley." The medi-witch said sternly, and there was no concealing the annoyance in her voice. "Harry Potter is not the only student resting in the infirmary, and your shouting will not change my decision. He shall not receive any visitors until he has woken up; and the headmaster has had a chance to speak with him."

Harry frowned at that, and hoped that someone would say something that would enlighten him as to what had happened, to land him in the Hospital Wing.

"We are worried about him." Hermione said pleadingly. "A lot of people were hurt during the earthquake last night; and we want to make sure that Harry is alright."

'Earthquake?' Harry wondered.

There had not been a single earthquake in all the time that Harry had been at Hogwarts, and it somehow surprised him, because he had always seen Hogwarts as a place that was removed from the rest of the world's ills. It was a safe place, a haven where things like earthquakes didn't occur; and from the tone of Hermione's voice, Harry could tell that the girl was also not convinced that the school had been affected by a force of nature.

Her reasoning was probably due to something she had read in 'Hogwarts A History' but having no such knowledge himself, Harry trusted his gut; which was telling him that earthquakes did not naturally occur at Hogwarts. Something was going on here, but his memory would not bring up any information to explain the state of things to him

"I can assure you that Mr Potter is fine, and will be released in a matter of hours." Madam Pomfrey told them. "Classes have been cancelled for the day so that professors can assess the damage done to the castle, and I urge you not to get in their way. Please return to your common room and wait for Mr Potter there." The medi-witch's tone said that there was no use for further argument, and Harry sighed in relief when he heard faint footsteps walk away from the hospital wing; and the woman close the door behind them.

He closed his eyes tiredly, hoping to sleep some more before he had to deal with whatever this was, and that's when he felt it; A niggling itch at the back of his mind that reminded him of a buzzing fly. One that wouldn't go away no matter how many times he swatted at it. At first, Harry did not know what it was; and unlike a physical fly, he could not swat it. At a loss for what to do, he focused all his attention on the feeling; and to his surprise, he discovered a thread. The thread appeared to be made of spun gold, and when he concentrated some more; he noted what seemed like electrical pulses travelling along the thread to and from his mind.

Harry did not know what to make of this, but something at the core of his being told him that the thread was nothing to be afraid of; and he believed it. There was something pure and beautiful about the thread; and maybe irrationally, Harry felt that nothing that beautiful could ever be evil. Somehow, the moving pulses reminded Harry of when his wand and Voldemort's had connected; at the graveyard in Little Hangleton, the only difference being that he did not feel any danger or worry; as he pushed one of the pulses further down the golden thread, and away from his mind.

Draco was sitting on Severus' couch with the Potions Master, Blaise, and Pansy when he felt something prod at his mind. It was nothing like the invasive feeling of Legillimency, but there was no mistaking the feeling of something trying to access his mind. In wonder, he closed his eyes and tried to isolate the feeling. Soon enough, he came across what looked like a golden thread. It was beautiful, and without fear; he let his consciousness connect to the thread, allowing a pulse to touch his mind bringing with it one of the best feelings he had ever had in his life. He felt unexplainably happy, and Draco knew without a doubt that Harry was at the other end of the golden thread.

Draco had not seen Harry since dinner the previous evening, and he was more worried than he was letting on to his friends. He had overheard the Weasleys and Granger say that Harry was in the hospital wing, but Madam Pomfrey had denied him access when he had gone to visit. Not even Severus, much to his chagrin; had been given entry into the hospital wing to see Harry which only increased Draco's worry for his husband.

Pansy had been the one to suggest brewing some potions for Dragon World to get his mind off things, but not even that was enough distraction to stop his worrying. Draco needed to know that Harry was alright; and it frustrated and angered him that there was no way to find out. Later, Draco would discover that his desperation and desire to speak and see Harry, had allowed their bond to create a mental connection; but for now, he was just happy that Harry was alive.

'I'm okay.' Harry said slowly when he felt the overwhelming worry coming from Draco. He could not tell you how he knew it was Draco, but the moment his mind had touched the other boy's, he had felt a familiarity and recognition; that he could only associate with Draco. The worry Draco felt for him, made something tug in Harry's heart; and all he wanted to do at that moment, was take the blonde in his arms; and assure him that everything would be alright.

'I am so glad.' Draco said, in a voice that sounded chocked, even to his own ears. 'Where are you?' 'In the Hospital Wing.' Harry answered.
'What happened?' Draco asked.
'I don't know.' Harry confided, and Draco frowned at the answer.
'I have only just woken up, and I haven't had a chance to speak to either Dumbledore or Madam Pomfrey.' The raven explained.
'You don't remember anything from last night?' Draco inquired.
'Nothing at...' Harry's answer was interrupted by a yawn, and Draco felt himself grow concerned again. 'Sorry, but yeah; I don't remember what happened.'
'You should get some more rest Harry.' Draco advised.

He could tell that Harry was very much exhausted, and no matter how much he wanted to continue talking with his husband; he did not want to tire him more than he already was. 'Sorry, I am a bit tired.' Harry agreed. 'I will see you when I get out of here.'

'I will be waiting.' Draco said, and just like that; he felt the connection dim and fade within his consciousness.

He could tell that it was still there, but no matter how much he tried; he could not call it to the surface again. Deciding that he would research the matter when Harry woke up, he opened his eyes; only to find his friends looking at him with worried expressions on their faces.

"Is something the matter Draco?" Pansy asked.
"No. Don't worry, nothing's wrong." Draco answered, and for the first time in hours; he smiled. A genuine smile that at once puzzled his friends, but also one that made them happy that he was happy. "Everything is just fine."

"Did something happen?" Blaise asked, although he could not guess at what might've happened between then and a few minutes ago to lift Draco's mood this much.

Draco had been so down in the dumps, that nothing any of them proposed would stop his worrying over Potter; So it was strange indeed, that he was suddenly happy for no discernible reason.

"Harry is fine now." Draco said, with a beaming smile. That made the others look at each other with concern.
"How would you know that?" Severus asked bravely.

He had spent the last couple of hours inspecting the dungeons, and he knew with certainty, that the earthquake explanation the headmaster had given everyone was a lie. Whatever had shaken the castle the previous night, had to do with Harry Potter; but Severus had been denied entry at the door to the Hospital Wing when he'd gone to see the boy intent on getting the real answer to what had happened.

"I cannot explain it, but just now; I could hear Harry in my mind. He let me know that he is doing okay. He didn't get to tell me much more than that, because he was too fatigued to keep talking so he went back to sleep." Draco answered.

Severus knew of bonds that formed a telepathic connection between the bondmates, but an elemental bond was not one of them. Elemental bonds were all about power, and because of that; they lacked the emotional aspect required for a telepathic connection. A telepathic connection should not have been possible between Harry and Draco, but Severus was coming to the conclusion that there was something very uncommon about the bond between the two with each passing day. It was more than it seemed and he made a mental note to investigate it further, before something unprecedented which could harm either Draco or Harry happened.

"Draco," Severus began, and did not continue until he was sure that he had his godson's full attention. "You must be very careful not to mention anything about the mental connection to anyone outside of this room. You are smart enough to know that your bond with Potter is not behaving like an elemental bond."

"I know." Draco said seriously. He had known that for some time now. He had always had a feeling, that theirs was not a bond that could be broken or ignored. They would be together for a long time, and he truly wanted things to be good between them.

"Make sure that Harry does not reveal this information to anyone, including Dumbledore, until we figure out the exact nature of your bond." Draco nodded in acceptance of his godfather's reasoning, and the tension that had accompanied the serious atmosphere dissipated.

"By the way, Draco; Shouldn't you read that letter you received at breakfast?" Blaise reminded him suddenly, and Draco quickly withdrew the letter from a pocket in his robes.

His owl had delivered the letter just when they were leaving the Great Hall after breakfast, but Draco had been too preoccupied trying to find Harry to open it; and had indeed forgotten all about it. He recognised the handwriting on the envelope as Bill's; and methodically ripped it open to extract a single leaf of parchment that constituted the entire letter. The letter was only a few lines long, and combined with the knowledge that Harry was okay; Draco could not help the grin that had stolen over his lips by the time he was done reading the note.

"Good news?" Pansy queried, curiosity rooting its way into her voice; and Draco smiled even wider.

"The best." He answered, and the others looked at him in anticipation. "Professor Lupin and the other werewolves have managed to track down a werewolf who was a Lord, and a member of the Wizengamot, before his turning. Bill and Remus will visit him today, and if everything goes well; we will soon have a Wizengamot member in the Grey Faction."

After the initial round of excitement over the news, the four Slytherins sat together in companionable silence as each thought of what would happen next. If everything went as planned, then The Grey Faction would finally have a way into the politics of the England Wizarding Community; without attracting attention to itself. Hopefully, this would be the beginning of bringing real change to the Ministry, and to the Community as a whole.

It took a long time, but when Remus and the other werewolves finally found them, the Berkley family was living in Muggle London. Now, Bill and Remus tried and almost successfully managed to hide their dismay, when they were finally admitted into the dismal apartment that the family shared. Before making any contact with the Berkley family, Remus had done some research; and what he had found made him realize that no matter how bad his situation had been since he was turned into a werewolf, there were many who'd been cursed with the same affliction who had it even worse. He couldn't help feel pity for them.

The Berkley family had commanded almost as much wealth and prestige as the Malfoy family once upon a time; but none of its power had been able to shield them once the family was attacked by a pack of werewolves over a decade ago now. The Wizarding World had eaten up the news with unholy glee; and almost overnight, the Ministry of Magic had stripped the family of their titles and seized their wealth; leaving the Berkleys to live as pariahs in said society.

Soon after, the family had disappeared; and no one had even bothered to look for them until now. Remus had found out that the former Lord Berkley had fled to the Muggle World in search of a way to provide for his family. The man had found work as a zoo keeper, which was fortunate since he had been deathly afraid that the walls of their small apartment; would not hold two fully grown werewolves and two cubs on a full moon. Without other options, he'd had to lock all of them in animal cages at the zoo during the full moon; and hope that they would not break out and attack any of the muggles that were around while they were lost to bloodlust in their wolf forms.

However, the woes of the Berkley family did not stop at losing all their wealth and their place among the Wizarding World's elites. Unfortunately, the youngest in the family of four did not survive the first full moon they'd spent in the Muggle World. She was barely nine, and her body had been unable to handle the strain of turning without the proper potions; Potions that the family could no longer afford. Potions that the family had no access to the ingredients of to attempt successfully brewing for themselves.

It was a pitiable situation and the struggles of the past decade could clearly be seen on the former Lady Berkley and her son Edwin Berkley; who now sat across from Remus and Bill. With the death of his father two years back, Edwin Berkley had not only inherited his father's job at the muggle zoo, having been trained to take over for him as an apprentice of sorts, but he would also be Lord Berkley; if and or when the family managed a successful return to the Wizarding World and its societal Upper Echelon.

"We no longer have anything to do with the Wizarding World." Edwin Berkley said bitterly, following an uncomfortable silence. One that neither Remus nor Bill had been willing to break.

He had admitted the two men into his house out of curiosity since they had appeared desperate to speak to him, but whatever Edwin had expected; he had certainly not thought that they would ask him and his mother to return to the Wizarding World. He had been home from Hogwarts when his family was attacked; and when he allowed himself to think of the events that followed, he could not help the bitter anger he felt at the callous way that the Wizarding World had reacted to their tragedy.

"You may not know this, but a cure for Lycanthropy has been discovered." Bill said, choosing to ignore the anger leaking out of the man in front of him.

While Edwin Berkley's eyes only hardened at the news, there was no concealing the hope that stole into his mother's eyes. She had been born to a wealthy pureblood family and married into another that was just as prestigious. Like all females in her position, she had never had to do any manual work, but with no warning; her world had changed, and she now found herself hopping from one casual job to another that she would have thought lowly even for a house elf. She would do anything to leave this life behind; and that determination was evident in her eyes as she looked at her son.

Although now a former titled Lady, Edna Berkley still had an air of dignity and nobility about her. Her clothes were discoloured and threadbare. Her nails were chipped. Her hair and skin lacked the lustre associated with regularly scheduled care. The apartment she lived in now, was a long way from the previous manor house of the estate she and her husband had owned; and yet looking at her, Bill truly felt the need to remove her from there. She simply did not belong here in any sense of the word.

There was something about her that would not conform to the circumstances she had been thrust into even if she endured them for the next several hundred years, and Bill admired that tenacity in her.

"Currently, I am the only werewolf who has taken the cure." Remus added, attracting the attention of the mother and son. "The cure is now available to the general public, and a lot of werewolves are scheduled to take it on the next full moon."

"I represent the company that made the cure," Bill continued. "Our company has partnered with St. Mungos, and we have shared the cost of the cure's production. The inventor of the cure decided to give it away free of charge since no werewolf could afford to buy it even at ten galleons."

Bill saw the surprise and hope on the Berkleys faces when they heard that the cure was free and he could not help the pride that welled up in him. He had taken the job at Dragon World for the sake of the excitement it gave him, but it had turned out to be so much more rewarding a job than he could ever have hoped for.

He liked that he was the one who got to inform people like the Longbottoms and Berkleys that there was hope for them where none had existed before. It was fulfilling, and he thanked Merlin every day now, that he had decided to approach Draco that first time in the East Tower.

"I doubt you are going to every werewolf's door to tell them about the cure." Edwin stated after a few moments of silence. He had not survived in the Muggle World for so many years by being stupid, and he had no intention of starting now. His instincts told him to take the cure at whatever cost, but a more rational part of his brain; told him that he needed to know why the two men had come personally to him.

"No, we are not visiting all the werewolves." Bill confirmed. "I will be frank with you, because we are hoping you could be of some help to us in the future."

"That is the only way I would agree to help if I was in a position to." Edwin Berkley said, without bothering to hide the suspicion in his voice.

"I work for a new company called Dragon World." Bill started.

"My employer is a genius who has managed to come up with several products that have taken the Wizarding World, both here in England and abroad, by storm. However, he cannot be the face of the company; because he comes from a family that has a certain reputation. As you know, Wizarding England is at war right now. My employer, he is not accepted by either the light or the dark. As such, he has started The Grey Faction; Somewhere for people who don't fit anywhere else to turn. Somewhere for those who do not wish to fight at all. He has taken in vampires and werewolves; given them work and provided them with an honest way to live. He has asked us to find you and solicit your help, but you will receive the cure no matter what you decide."

Edwin's eyes narrowed further with even more suspicion, "What is it you want from me?" He queried with caution.

"Once you take the cure; we want you to reclaim your lordship and take back your seat in the Wizengamot." Bill said, and Edna Berkley let out a small startled cry.

"How? What are you even talking about?" Edwin asked in shock. He had never held the hope of ever going back to the Wizarding World, let alone taking back everything that had once belonged to his family.

"After you take the cure, you will petition the Ministry to return your confiscated properties and title." Bill explained. "Our solicitor has looked into it, and because the possibility of a Lycanthropy Cure has never been feasible before; the Ministry has never taken any steps to ensure that cured werewolves cannot reclaim their properties and titles. It requires a lot of hard work, but it is possible for you and other werewolves to get back what you once lost."

"Why is it important for me to reclaim my Lordship and Wizengamot seat?" Edwin asked. "I may have once wanted to go into politics like my ancestors before me, but it has been a long time since then; and a lot of things have changed."

"I understand your reluctance, but I still hope that you will be able to help us." Bill said, and with a questioning look from Edwin Berkley, he continued. "The Grey Faction we have established has no allies within the Wizengamot. Because of that, there is not much we can do to change some of the things that need changing. Once on the Wizengamot, you, and by extension, the Grey Faction; will have a say in the politics of Wizarding England. For example, we plan to petition for more rights for magical beings, but we have no ally on the Wizengamot to petition it to successfully. We need someone who is not already allied with either of the other sides; and we are hoping that you can be that person."

Edwin Berkley didn't know what to say. This offer sounded too good to be true, and he had learned not to trust people. He wanted to say no, but the word got stuck in his throat every time he thought of the past decade. Edwin was not blind to the fact that his family had never been one to be concerned with the disadvantaged, but things had changed; and he had learned the hard way that the only constant in life is change. He did not want to get involved, but something in him would not let him give up this chance to change the Wizarding World into something better than what it was now.

"I want to meet this mysterious inventor." He finally said and looked at Bill and Remus in a way that suggested that it was the only way that he would even consider being part of their faction.

"It's impossible to  make that happen at the moment." Bill answered truthfully. He knew that Draco did not want his identity to become common knowledge, but there was something about Edwin Berkley; that warned him that half-truths and obscurities would not be viewed kindly. The Grey Faction needed the man, and as such, he deserved the truth. "He is a student at Hogwarts, and school is still in session."

Edwin's mouth fell open at that. "Are you saying that a Hogwarts student created a cure for Lycanthropy?" Edna Berkley spoke for the first time.

"That and many other revolutionary products. A cure for the effects of the Cruciatus Curse. A charm capable of bolstering Occlumency. A charm capable of repelling legillimency. Just to name a few."

"You weren't joking when you said he was a genius?" Edwin asked, still in shock from the discovery.

"No." Bill answered.

"Is this child trustworthy?" He directed this question to Remus, and he stared at him in a way that suggested he was trying to look into the former werewolf's soul.

"When I first met him, I thought he was exactly like the rest of his family, but as time went by, I realised that something was very different about him. I did not know until recently what was different; and new understanding of him is why I have entrusted my fellow werewolves to him." Remus explained, and there was a distinct sadness in his eyes, as he recalled everything he had learnt about Draco Malfoy.

"What was your reason?" Edna Berkley asked.

"He is a child who has known more suffering than any human being ever should.' Remus said, and Bill looked at him in understanding.

"He is also a child who found himself between a hard and a harder place, and is somehow managing to save not only himself, but others too. With his abilities, he could have simply saved himself, but he cares about people; because he understands their suffering. Both current sides at the helm of the ongoing war are itching to get their hands on him, but he won't choose either; because he has been a victim of both sides and he knows he can trust neither. He is a person you can put your trust in without worry."

"I see." Edwin said thoughtfully. "I will trust your judgment for the time being, but I will withhold my final judgment; until I have had a chance to speak with him face to face."

"That is as it should be." Bill said agreeably, with a smile.

"So, what now?" Edwin asked.

"Now, you pack everything you want to take with you; and we will take you back to the Wizarding World." Bill said.
"We have nothing in the Wizarding World." Edna stated mournfully.

"Until you take the cure on the full moon, you will stay in a temporary house we are using, but after you take it, you can go to Dragon Castle." Bill said. "You can't go right away because there are vampires there, and wolves are their natural enemies. There will be no problems afterward; and you will find the vampires living there are even quite likable. My employer has created a potion to help them walk in the sun, and they have mellowed quite a lot. You can stay there until you get your properties back, or until you decide to leave." Bill continued.

"What are we to do in the meantime?" Edwin asked.
"Re-accustom yourself with Wizarding England's laws, history, and politics; because you will need to call upon such knowledge soon." Bill said. "A lot has changed in the Wizarding World since you left."

"What about mother?"

"If things are to change, you must both command equal or more influence than you previously had; and for that Lady Edna must become a society leader once again. At the moment, everyone is doing whatever they want, without regard for anyone else. This is something that simply cannot continue. Politicians are given positions only if they are pliable enough to bend with every wind. People are sent to Azkaban with no trial. Dementors are used for personal errands. The Ministry is taking control of Hogwarts a little more every year. The Daily Prophet is a work of fiction rather than a paper of truth. The list goes on and on." Bill said.

"The Wizarding World as a whole does not win; no matter who wins this war. If neither side is willing to change the way the crucial institutions of Wizarding England are led. All the ministries we approached about the Lycanthropy Cure accepted a 50-50 cost-sharing deal with Dragon World, but the English Ministry refused even a 30-70 cost-sharing deal with them on the fronting the lower side of that cost-share; and it was only because St. Mungos agreed to a cost-share in their place, that we managed to produce as many cures as we have. Things need to change, and we have resolved ourselves to change them. If you decide to join us, we will expect the same resolve and commitment for change from you."

Edna Berkley's back straightened, and Edwin couldn't remember the last time he had seen so much life in his mother's eyes. The hardships and losses of the last few years had all but robbed her of it but this; Whatever this was, it was giving it back to her. If only for that reason, he would have joined the movement; or whatever the Grey Faction actually was, but as it stood, he had also been moved. He did not want to live in a world that destroyed lives as the Wizarding World had theirs, and if he could help make a better world, he would. He would keep a close eye though, because even good intentions could go wrong and he did not want to be remembered as one of the pioneers of a period of darkness for the Wizarding World.

Taking the last remaining mementos of their previous life and family, the Berkleys left for the Wizarding World. They had resolved to leave their shame in their shared little flat in Muggle London, and go back to Wizarding England as the only living members of the proud line of Berkley that had survived for 600 years.

Draco received the good news that evening and immediately sent an owl to Madame Jeannette. Her services would be needed in five days-time to outfit a man and a woman of most importance; her complete discretion was needed. She sent back a reply saying that Mr Malfoy would receive the best of her services at the highest discretion. Jeannette didn't know what all this was about, but she was not paid so highly to ask questions, so she began clearing her schedule for the promised day.

She cancelled and postponed appointments, and then began going through her catalogue to make fabric and cut choices. She had to be careful, because she had not been warned about age, coloration, size or anything of her intended important clients. The only thing Mr Malfoy had said, was that someone would come to fetch her at ten on the promised day's morning and she should be ready for a long day of work. She would have to go alone, but she had no fear; she knew young Draco Malfoy would not steer her wrong.

Uploader's Note: This Has Been A Backup Upload of Chapter 31 of Behind the Fog by Hancock23.