Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Oath Breaker ❯ Merlin and Morgan ( Chapter 13 )

Part 13

Sitting on the stairs at the front of the room, Draco watched them sleep. Old habits die hard but habits created out of necessity die harder, and he figured that it would be a few days at least before the Slytherins could sleep in individual beds again. They'd slept close together for months now, both to keep warm during heavy snowfall and to stay safe in one tight group, and they weren't about to split up into rooms again. Rather than try to move beds around, they'd simply shoved all of the furniture to the side and levitated mattresses, blankets and pillows into the middle of the common room, sleeping mingled together with the youngest children against or on top of the oldest.

Pansy had also lined up the couches as a kind of front line between the pile of students and the main door. He'd listened to her while she rearranged the common room and told Theo, who seemed to have become second in command, that she wanted the couches there as barricade in case someone ever guessed the password and tried to attack. Draco thought she was being paranoid, especially since he hadn't told any of them about the previous night's attack, a conversation he was not looking forward to. But paranoia aside, the couches also gave Pansy a more comfortable bed than just a mattress on the floor, even if they had charmed all of them to float a few inches off the floor purely for comfort.

Probably won't wake up 'till tomorrow morning, he thought. Whereas he had a dull headache from lack of sleep and didn't think he'd be drifting off anytime soon, even though the morning bell for breakfast had already rung. If he fell asleep, he might wake up and discover that this was just a dream. He leaned back on the cold, hard edge of the stairstep behind him, glancing at each of them. Somehow Pansy had brought not only every single Slytherin but also many children that weren't Hogwarts students. Nestled in Daphne and Tracey's arms lay children from the dark families that had never come out of hiding even to send their young ones to school. He recognized a few of them, children from the Avens, Scoto and Praevatt families. He even saw two from the Danaeu family, and they'd disappeared so thoroughly that even the Ministry thought they had died generations ago.

Simply amazing that Pansy could bring all of them. He tilted his head and watched them sleep curled together. In time he'd have to tell them about the threats lurking within Hogwarts and how the school knew that he was dark, but that conversation could wait.

He stood up and crept around the pile of children, disappearing into the corridor that led to his room. When he stepped inside, he closed the door and fished out the honey amulet from his nightstand, then went to Crabbe's nightstand. Vincent was a terrible packrat, refusing to throw nearly anything away. Stones, torn scraps of cloth, buttons, broken shoe buckles and other useless things filled his drawers. Draco fished through them until he found what he wanted, a long thin strip of leather once used as a tie for a formal shirt.

Knotting it once around his amulet, he placed a sealing charm on it so it wouldn't come undone and then tied it around his neck. Easily concealed under his robes, the glass vial lay comfortably against his skin and warmed up after a few seconds. He put his hand over it and smiled.

The door opened, startling him. "Here you are," Snape said, looking in. "I would've thought you'd be asleep with the others."

With a small shake of his head, Draco closed the nightstand drawer and turned. "Can't sleep. Besides, you saw the way they clustered together without me. I can't join in. They went through so much without me."

"They hardly drew away from you," Snape said. "Last night they looked like lost nestlings that had found their mother."

"It was Pansy who--" Draco started.

"Pansy led them here, yes, protected them, guided them and apparently killed for them, exactly like a mother should. But even after all that, when they arrived, she waited for you to tell her what to do next."

"She's the one who told everyone what to do," Draco said, "not me."

"Only after you made sure that everyone ate before coming to bed. Only after you took the injured children to the hospital. Only after you told her to get them all into the common room." Snape gave him an exasperated look. "You did notice, didn't you?"

"But I didn't tell them to do anything! It was nothing like getting the Ministry to do what I wanted," Draco said. "It wasn't even like before when we were friends terrorizing the other houses."

Snape gave him the look that meant his apprentice had missed something important, but he didn't argue. "You'll figure it out. Maybe. Now if you're not going to sleep, you can help me with the children in the hospital."

"They're still all right, aren't they?" Draco asked, following him as he turned and walked away. "They haven't gotten worse?"

"Pomfrey's been taking care of them," and Snape's tone told Draco exactly what the potions master thought of Pomfrey's treatments. "But I would prefer our own remedies. Her medicine is limited to what the Ministry can measure."

As they left the common room, Snape retrieved a bag of potions ingredients from a cabinet and handed it to Draco to carry, who didn't complain but did give his master a dirty look behind his back.

Classes were full and the halls empty as they came up out of the dungeons. When they reached the hospital, they both gave a little sigh of relief that Madame Pomfrey was not in sight. Curtains separated the beds in the back where four Slytherin students lay suffering from wisprian curses. Their breath came in short thin wheezes and the slightest bit of dust in the air sent them into violent coughing fits. Pomfrey's Respiratory Remedy bottle stood prominently in the nearest cabinet, but it didn't seem to be working all that well.

At the bedside of the first child, Draco unloaded the bag of ingredients and was a little surprised to pull out two potted clover plants. Although fresh ingredients were sometimes called for, having them still in their pots meant that someone was going to lose some blood.

"We're creating a Clover's Breath potion?" Draco asked.

"Yes, but instead of the leaves, we'll use the essence. I'll do that part. You start drawing their blood. We shouldn't need much from each of them."

Draco nodded and took up the empty glass vials, leaving one at each bedside. Using blood far more intimately associated a potion with its patient, but rendered it nearly useless for anyone else, sometimes coming out too strong, sometimes so weak as to be hardly noticeable. Only close relatives could hope to share blood potions without ill effect.

He bent over the first child, drawing her arm out from under her blanket. Her veins were bold against her pale skin as he pressed the tip of his wand against her wrist. "Stoabim," he whispered. A spark of light made a small cut and he guided the flow of blood with his wand into the vial until he had enough. "Haean," he said, and blood welled over the cut and scabbed over. A second later the dried blood disintegrated without leaving a scar.

Twice more he repeated the process. By the time Snape finished mixing the potion for the first child, Draco stood beside the last child, a young boy he didn't recognize. He frowned and searched the boy's arm, but no matter how he squinted, he couldn't find a vein. Sighing, he gave up and leaned over the boy's throat, fingers gently searching for the pulse.

The boy's eyes snapped open so quickly that Draco squeaked and stood straight. Brown eyes swept over the ceiling and walls before focusing back on him. From the look he gave him, Draco knew he was remembering a nightmare, trying to figure out how to escape from here.

"It's all right," Draco murmured, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder. "You made it to Hogwarts, but you were hit with a curse. I need your blood to break it."

The eyes narrowed. "Sis...sister--" As he spoke, he started heaving as a coughing attack struck.

"Don't talk," Draco said, waiting for the attack to stop before he spoke again. "Everyone who was with Pansy made it, so the faster you let me take your blood, the sooner you see your sister again."

Both of them knew he didn't have a choice, but Draco's willingness to ask made him feel a little more secure. He didn't nod but instead turned his head to the side, watching Snape administer the first potion. It was a little like watching him pour smoke into her mouth. The little girl didn't wake up but her breathing immediately deepened and lost some of its rasp.

Drawing blood from the throat was tricky at best. Draco leaned so close that his hair brushed the other boy's face, just inches from the tip of his wand as he made the cut and caught the blood. He felt a touch of pride that not a single drop spilled onto the sheets. When he looked up, he breathed out in relief that his patient had fallen asleep again. Cursed or no curse, all of Pansy's charges were exhausted.

And then a sudden harsh whisper made his heart skip a beat.

"Get away from them!" Her wand held straight out, Madam Pomfrey faced both of them with her lips set in a thin line.

Inwardly cursing, Draco tightened his grip on the vial so much that it almost cracked. He'd been so focused on his task that he hadn't heard Pomfrey's footsteps on the hospital floor. Of course she'd think they were harvesting human blood for dark potions and performing necromancy on helpless children. He couldn't help a chuckle as he realized she was right.

"Think it's funny attacking children?" she all but growled. "Not enough to burn and electrocute them--Merlin, to cast a plague curse on them-- now you come after your own--"

"Expelliarmus," Snape cast, whipping her wand out of her hand and into his. As her eyes widened, he set the wand aside. "You are an excellent healer, but I'm afraid you know nothing of how we work."

Hardly deterred, she reached out for a huge jar labeled Rowan. Draco cringed when he saw the bright red berries. Usually harmless, he had no doubt she knew the charms to cast to turn them into little weapons.

"If you throw those," Snape said softly, "then you will hurt the children as well. They're dark, too. I assure you, we are not hurting them."

Pausing with one hand in the jar, Pomfrey glanced at the children and then back at Snape, weighing her options. Her eyes narrowed as she considered. "What are you doing?"

"Your potions are too slow," Snape said. "We can give them something faster and far more effective."

"You're not hurting them?" she asked. "Then why didn't you tell me you were coming here? Why are you bleeding them? And what's that smoke you gave her?"

"I didn't tell you because I'd hoped to avoid a confrontation," Snape ground, loathe to admit that he'd erred. "As for what we're doing, now that you're here, you're quite welcome to watch. I doubt the Ministry ever let you learn how to perform necromancy."

"Necromancy?" she gasped. "Oh Merlin, they're not dead!"

"Not on them," Snape said. "On the plants."

Despite herself, Pomfrey slowly set the jar down, resealing the top and looking over her shoulder at them. Not entirely convinced of their good intentions, nonetheless she crossed to Draco's side and stood over him as he sealed the tiny cut and corked the vial of blood. To their mutual relief, no one had woken up.

"They're all dark wizards?" she whispered, staring at the boy. "He's too young..."

"Old enough to survive on his own," Draco muttered, then motioned at the girl Snape had already treated. "She's not dark, but she's been surrounded by so much dark magic that rowan would probably hurt her, too."

Pomfrey glanced around at their patients, then looked at him as if he were a loathsome bug to be stomped underfoot. For a moment Draco thought she would say something, scold him for what he'd done to his attackers, but she just sighed and turned towards Severus. He'd finished administering the second potion and now picked up another clover plant, setting it on the table between him and the healer.

"It's fairly common knowledge that our kind deal in necromancy," Snape started as if lecturing a class. "What is not common knowledge is that necromancy extends beyond human death and into nature. The lifeforce of an ancient oak tree is far more potent than that of most people, but even the smallest blade of grass has a wisp of life, no matter how infinitesimal. It is that wisp that infuses our potions with more power than any of your kind could hope to achieve."

As he spoke, he lowered the tip of his wand to the clover and made seven seemingly useless circles over the leaves, spiraling his wand higher with each circle. He repeated the process three more times, whispering what sounded like a song as he started the last motion, as with the final circle a wisp of light green smoke followed his wand through the air into the waiting potion. While he corked and shook the vial, Pomfrey bent closer and examined the clover. She expected to see withered stems and leaves, but instead found warped and twisted stems, malformed leaves and roots poking into the air as if the plant had forgotten how to grow.

"He didn't take all of its life," Draco explained. "Just a little. Clover's durable, more so than other plants. Losing a little bit only makes it act strange."

"But it's still alive," she mused. "How can you call it necromancy if it's not dead?"

"Necromancy doesn't deal just with death," Severus said. He slipped a hand under the next child's neck and tilted his head back, pouring the potion into his mouth. "It's the magic of spirits, and spirits exist before and after death. The Ministry will condemn anyone who practices it either way."

"Because if you could do this with plants," she reasoned, "you could do the same thing to people."

"Exactly." Severus set the empty vial aside and began work on the next potion. "Draco, I no longer need you here. Take the excess materials back to my storeroom."

"Yes, sir." As Draco gathered up the loose bottles and ingredients, he glanced over his shoulder at his master. "Do I have to go to classes?"

"No, you'll probably be asleep by lunch. Just keep out of trouble. You're supposedly safe but I wouldn't stake my life on it."

Draco nodded and walked around Pomfrey, careful not to brush against her. She gave him a dark look but she didn't say anything as he walked towards the door. He knew she had to be angry over what he'd done to the other students and hoped that he wouldn't have to come back to the hospital alone. He didn't think she'd hurt him, but he was tired of defending and explaining himself.

After he left the bag in the storeroom and put the ingredients back on the shelves, he decided to go upstairs to the library. No one would be inside during classes so he could read without being disturbed, stared at or asked annoying questions.

Madame Pince gave him an evil look when he walked in but she didn't say anything, just followed him with her eyes as he walked into the Forbidden Section. He headed to the section on dark magic, thinking he'd brush up on his history, and was surprised to discover that nearly half the section was gone. Books lay on their sides, fallen haphazardly into the gaps, and a few scraps of parchment lay scattered about. He picked one up and noticed that someone had made a booklist of every book that had the word 'dark' in the title.

But who was reading them, he wondered, Hufflepuffs trying to understand him or Ravenclaws building a case against him?

He plucked a book that had slipped everyone else's notice, Morgan's Poisoned Apples, and sat down with his back against the wall and a clear view out the window. A yawn crept up on him and he shook his head to clear it before he started reading.

Someone walked into the library, but he paid them no attention until they came towards his table. He didn't move but raised his eyes as Hermione stopped in front of him, several books in her arms and her bag slung over her shoulder. She stared at the title of the book in his hand for a moment.

"I thought the apples were poisoned by a knight," she mumbled. "Meant to poison Gawain in revenge."

"Morgan's servants could be discreet," he said slowly, wondering why she'd come. "Arthur was so eager to prove Guinevere's innocence that he accepted any excuse."

"But she was innocent," Hermione said.

"Only of poisoning," Draco said. "She was still an adulterous harlot. Why so curious?"

Hermione shifted from one foot to another, glancing over her shoulder once. "I've been reading up on early wizarding history, but a lot of it's sketchy and some things don't seem to fit."

"That's what happens when only one side writes the books."

She frowned and hefted her books before they could slide out of her hands. "I want to know more. But I can't get it from the Hogwarts' library."

He tilted his head slightly. "You read everything?"

"Almost." Taking that as an invitation, she set her books on the table and sat down, dropping her bag on the floor with a heavy thump. "I couldn't get Camlann and Ramifications and someone already checked out The Queen of Gorre. And the entire section on Camelot is gone. Ravenclaws are bloody locusts in a library."

His mouth twisted as he remembered saying something similar to Blaise during a research project. "At least you tried to get something more substantial than this lot." He picked up the book on top of the pile and flipped the cover over. Broken Oaths and Imprecations. He snorted. Didn't hear that accusation too often anymore. "So what do you want, Granger? I doubt you came here for my company."

"I asked Dumbledore," she said, "and he told me dark wizards pass things down orally, and that if I wanted to know more about them, I should ask one. So I'm asking."

Torn between his memory of her screaming at him and Harry saying she'd helped convince the Gryffindors not to hurt him, he set the book down and leaned back in his seat, assuming what he hoped was a disdainful look. "I'm afraid I'm tired of being yelled at, so if you think I'm going to lay bare our history so you can tell me how evil we are--"

"I promise I won't yell," Hermione said, sounding annoyed that she had to remember flying head over heels over his grimoire. "Or say you're evil."

Draco stared at her.

"Please, Malfoy," she ground out between clenched teeth. "Or would you rather I believe everything in these books."

He sighed and glared at the ceiling for a second, stifling a yawn. He didn't care what she thought, but she had Harry's ear and Potter seemed to listen to her. Giving her his side of the story would probably benefit him later on. "Oh, fine."

Paper and quills rustled wildly as she whipped out her notes. "Thank you. Now there were a lot of things I didn't get, but I especially don't see the connections between Morgan and Arthur."

"What's not to see? She was his half-sister."

"But why'd she hate Arthur? I read about the things she did, but nothing told me why she did them."

Draco took a deep breath and sighed. "Because Arthur had the support of Merlin, a very powerful old wizard who absolutely hated dark wizards. He killed any of us he came across to cement his power in Britain and he poisoned Camelot against us. Most of us fled to Gorre for Morgan's protection since she was strong enough to hold him at bay."

Hermione's eyes opened wide. "But I've never heard anything about that in wizard or muggle literature."

"Of course not. It's hard to write about what we were doing when we went to such lengths to keep it a secret. If Merlin had known we were all running for the hills, he might have spent less time helping Uther's brat and more time chasing us down."

"Why did he hate you?" Hermione asked. "I mean, why did he hate dark wizards?"

Draco gave a little wave of his hand. "Tch. By then, the lines between dark and light were so entrenched that I'd be surprised if there were any of your kind that didn't hate us. We use magic that muggles and light wizards alike considered evil and disgusting, and we refuse to change to their whims. There's always been more of you and muggles, though, so the war quickly turned against us."

"And Merlin loved muggles enough to create his Order," Hermione said softly, reasoning to herself. "But why did he start helping Uther?"

"To get rid of us once and for all." Draco picked up one of the books and flipped through it, glancing at the medieval woodcuts of dark witches cavorting with sleeping men while their wives slept in the same bed. "You have to understand that at that time, most muggles still believed in fairies and the creatures that come out at night. They still believed all of us wizards were in league with powerful old gods and forces of nature."

"So they were afraid of you," Hermione said.

"They were in awe of us," Draco clarified. "We protected the boundary between their world and the magical world. We kept the two worlds from mingling and if that included transforming or killing muggles, then so be it."

"But Merlin worked against that," he continued. "He hated how we kept apart from muggles. He, and other wizards like him, thought that lording over muggles was wrong, that they weren't animals to be herded. Not only that, your kind shunned any contact with magical creatures and magical beings, and we, who sought out that contact, were equally shunned. They didn't think we should fraternize with the old inhabitants of the land. He thought the age of the old gods was coming to an end and that humans were the rightful inheritors of the land."

Hermione winced slightly as his voice turned harsh. "But couldn't the dark wizards have called on the old gods to help them against Merlin and the other light wizards?"

"No. Because the old bastard was right." Draco snapped his book shut and tossed it on the table. "The faeries and old spirits, they slowly vanished from the world, never to come back. Oh sure, a handful still linger here and there, but nothing like they used to be. We tried to perform our duties, cleaned up the messes they'd left behind, the little traps and places of power that echoed with their charms. It was when we started wondering what to do with ourselves now that there was no boundary to protect that Merlin struck, sending Arthur's knights into the world to destroy us."

"I thought they were sent out to prove their valor," Hermione said. "Although I did wonder why there were so few stories of great deeds when there were so many knights."

"Even poets have a hard time romanticizing the slaughter of families. When we found out what was happening, we ran for Gorre, hoping the queen would protect us."

"Queen Morgan le Fay, right? Did she?"

Draco smiled softly as if remembering. "She did better than protect us. Before we came to her, we were just scattered families living by ourselves practicing our own brand of magic, bound only by our common duty. Under her care, we learned powerful spells, potions of her own invention. Dark wizards by our very nature do not like being around people, but she taught us to work together. She forged the families into a strong community that, in time, grew powerful enough to support Mordred."

"You make it sound like you were there."

"I was, in a way." He didn't know if Harry had told her about dark wizards dreaming about their ancestors' deaths, but he probably had. Harry had probably urged her to talk to him in the first place. "Potter told you about my dreams?"

She nodded. "The ones of your ancestors?"

"Sometimes when they died, they remembered Morgan. Not for very long, and they always remembered her the way they wanted to, never the way she really looked. At least, I don't think they did."

"Why not?"

"I'm not sure that anyone can be that beautiful and still be real."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak but the bell cut her off. Both of them looked towards the door as students' voices filled the halls, but after a few seconds no one came into the library and eventually they both relaxed.

"The books barely talk about what she looked like or what she did when she wasn't attacking Arthur. Did she marry or take lovers? Did she ever have children?"

"...we don't know." Draco hesitated. "You wouldn't know this, but we've had centuries to think about her and what she did. Some of us think she couldn't have any children, that she was the daughter of a mortal woman and a spirit. It would certainly explain why she could match Merlin. In any case, she never explained herself to anyone. Taking in dark wizards, opposing Arthur, supporting Mordred, she did those for her own reasons, whatever they were. In some ways, we were incidental."

"Why would the other wizards support Mordred?" Hermione asked. "He was a muggle."

"Not one bit," Draco said with a shake of his head. "He was a true dark lord and he was of Morgan's blood, and through the oaths we swore to her, he was our family by proxy."

"Hermione, Malfoy!"

They both looked towards the door and spotted Harry coming towards them, folding up a parchment and sticking it in his bookbag as he came closer. Madame Pince shushed him but he ignored her, grabbing a chair from another table and joining them.

"Didn't expect to find you two together," Harry said. "Especially during classes."

"I've done my work ahead in arithmancy," Hermione defended herself. "Besides, I'm learning more here. Malfoy's telling me about Mordred."

"Who's Mordred?" Harry asked.

Hermione and Draco both gave him disbelieving looks.

"What?" Harry asked testily. "Sorry I haven't read the same books you have."

"Oh Harry, honestly."

"I asked both of you before," Harry snapped, "and neither one of you gave me an answer."

"All right," Draco said, "the quick version just to bring you up to speed. You know about King Arthur, Merlin, the knights of the round table and Camelot?"

"Yeah, everyone knows about that."

While Hermione rolled her eyes, Draco continued. "Merlin helped Arthur's father, Uther, and then raised Arthur until it was time for him to become king. Later Arthur has a bastard son with his half-sister. The boy, Mordred, grows up to become a knight in Camelot. Mordred spreads rumors about Queen Guinevere's affair with Lancelot, and eventually proves that the rumors are true. While Arthur and his loyal knights go off to attack Lancelot, Mordred takes over the kingdom. Arthur comes back, they fight, everyone dies."

"Except Sir Bedevere," Hermione said. Then, for Harry's benefit, "Arthur's most loyal knight."

"No, we got him few days later," Draco said. "Didn't matter, though. The damage was done. Even though Camelot was destroyed and Merlin was gone, the light wizards had always outnumbered us and now it was worse. A lot of dark wizards had died and those who were still alive had to scatter. Some of us went back to Morgan, but many of us disappeared into the forests."

"Wait," Hermione said. "How could you go back to Morgan? Three women accompanied Arthur to the Isle of Avalon, Guinevere, the lady of the lake and Morgan le Fay."

"Depends on who's telling the story," Draco said. "Guinevere was in a convent. It was Arthur's third sister Elaine who stood beside the lady of the lake."

"That still leaves Morgan."

"Tell me this, Granger, Morgan le Fay constantly plotted against Arthur and his knights. Why would she escort him to Avalon?"

Hermione frowned and considered. "I admit, that always bugged me. It doesn't make sense."

"Because it didn't happen," Draco said. "Morgan didn't escort him, Nimue did."

"Nimue?" Hermione shook her head. "I've never heard of her."

"Bet you've heard of Vivien, though," he said, and her look of sudden recognition confirmed it. "One woman, two names, one that we knew her by, one that Merlin gave her. She got confused with the lady of the lake, though, and then later on it became politically convenient for Morgan to take her place."

Harry looked back and forth at them in bewilderment. "What on earth are you two talking about?"

"Vivien was Merlin's lover," Hermione explained in a rush, as if talking was distracting her from understanding something. "She's the one who seduced him and trapped him in amber. But why put Morgan in Vivien's place?"

"Because Nimue was also Merlin's mother," Draco said. "And when Merlin became the wizarding world's role model, it was more convenient to forget her and pretend their incestuous affair never happened. Putting Morgan in Nimue's place with Arthur was an attempt to convert dark wizards, as if Morgan had turned her back on her old ways and accepted Arthur in the end."

"Wait," Harry said. "Why are you using two different names for the same woman?"

While Hermione went into a long explanation about Roman invaders, indigenous languages and English stories being told in French, Draco leaned back in his chair and shook his head. "No, Granger," he softly interrupted her. "It's hardly that complicated."

He looked at Harry with both anger and sadness. "The reason she uses the more popular name is because the winners write the history books. More was lost at the battle of Camlann than just Mordred's hopes for the throne. We had always been a divided society but when Mordred lost, the dark wizards withdrew from society and went into hiding. Over the centuries we were hunted down and now very few of us remain."

"How many?" Hermione asked.

"In Britain, a little over fifty families, if that," Draco said. He looked back at Harry. "You told me once that my family changed sides only because we were in danger. That we were dark wizards and nothing could change that."

Harry nodded once.

"You were right. If the dark lord wasn't insane and fixated on his own mortality, if there was any chance that we could overthrow the Ministry, I would serve him more faithfully than my father ever did."

"Why?" Harry asked. "He doesn't care about you, he doesn't care about anything but himself."

"You don't understand what's at stake," Draco said. "The battle between Morgan and Merlin never really ended. This new war was our chance, maybe our last chance, to turn it around. The Ministry's grown fat and lazy under its own weight, there's a real chance we could kill it. Yes, it would send our society back several hundred years, but--"

"But what?" Harry interrupted. "So you can even the score? Over a battle hundreds of years old? What's the point? It's petty and spiteful."

"Because if we win," Draco insisted, "the raids stop. Aurors will no longer barge into houses to steal away family heirlooms deemed dark or evil. Whole families won't be dragged out in the night to be tried in secret and thrown in Azkaban forever. So that we can practice magic our way, without being of afraid of mobs or..." He cut himself off and took a deep breath. "The battle is hundreds of years old, yes," he began again, "but it never ended. It won't end until every follower of Morgan's school is dead. And that means me, and my family, and all the rest of us dark wizards."

"But..." Hermione said, "I thought aurors only went after dangerous wizards, or wizards who try to hurt people."

"Really?" Draco looked over at Harry. "Were you trying to hurt someone when you were tried at the Wizengamot?"

"How did you know about that?" Harry asked. "Only a handful of people know--"

"Malfoys are good at politics," Draco said. "You might be surprised what you can worm out of people when they're afraid of what you know."

"Wait, what about Knockturn Alley?" Harry asked. "Why don't the aurors raid all the stores there?"

"Because they don't put their contraband on the shelves. You have to know what to ask for. More importantly, you have to know how to ask. Aurors could spend all day looking, and believe me they do, but they won't find anything. Besides, they've already destroyed a lot of our works. Most of our books were burned and any real information in your own works was obliterated."

While Draco spoke with Harry, Hermione pulled another book out of the pile and flipped through it quickly, coming to rest at a half-torn page. She held the book open and turned it to show it to Draco. "That reminded me of this. Do you know what's missing from here?"

He leaned forward and glanced at the last few sentences before the rip. "Many secrets and mysteries abound in the Queen's lands," he murmured to himself as he read. "The kingdom of Gorre sinks into strange perversities. The dark queen's borders abound with plants that grow all out of nature, roots in the air and leaves in the ground. Animals show an almost human intelligence. True horror comes at nightfall, however, when the followers of Morgan le Fay fly through the air and hold worship to the moon. Few have seen their revels and survived to tell tales of monstrous howls and creeping things, when on the night of--" he broke off when he reached the end.

"Is any of that real?" Hermione asked.

"Even the worst lies have a bit of truth to them," Draco said. "Yes, most of that is true. Dark magic confuses plants, makes them grow weird."

"What about the animals?" Hermione asked.

"Dark wizards are fond of crossbreeding," he said. "Magic can be quite unpredictable, so you're never sure what you're going to get. Your kind never took to mixing and matching animals."

"Crookshanks is a crossbreed," Hermione said.

"Yes, and how long had he been in the store before you finally bought him?" Draco didn't expect an answer and motioned at the book again. "You wanted to know what's missing? Whoever tore out this part didn't like any mention of Walpurgis night. Probably tore it out a few hundred years ago when there was a big push to get rid of any information that impressionable little wizards and witches might find and try out during their rebellious years."

"Why is Walpurgis night so special?" Harry asked. "You said the Death Eaters came from the Knights of Walpurgis, right?"

"Walpurgis is just another name for Beltane, isn't it?" Hermione asked. "They're both around the same time, the midpoint between the equinoxes."

"I don't know what muggles call it," Draco said. "And your kind don't really celebrate it. As for us, it used to be one of the nights we'd have to stand guard over the places where the old gods used to cross into this world. When they left, we kept gathering together out of habit. That's how the Knights of Walpurgis came about."

While Hermione looked back through her book, Draco turned his head aside and tried to smother another yawn. It escaped, though, and when he looked up, he found Potter staring at him.

"You're exhausted," Harry said, finally noticing the dark circles under Draco's eyes. "Did you go to sleep at all?"

"I didn't have time," Draco said. "I was busy looking over the cursed students and introducing the children who aren't students to Dumbledore, and getting them all into the dungeons and into bed was a chore without them rearranging the common room."

"You really should get to bed," Hermione said. "You look awful."

Draco thought about muttering that he was exhausted so what was her excuse, but Harry was right next to her and Draco felt like showing him that he could be courteous if he felt like it. After another yawn, he nodded once and stood up. "I probably better go back before I fall over." He pushed his unread book across the table. "Put that back for me."

"You're welcome," she muttered but took it anyway.

"I'll walk you down to Slytherin," Harry offered, standing up.

"I'm not so tired that I'll lose my way," Draco said mildly, but he didn't argue as Harry followed him out of the library.

"I just meant you shouldn't be alone," Harry said. "We still haven't caught the person who's sabotaging things and laying traps, after all."

"You haven't?" Draco frowned. He'd thought they'd caught the person long ago and simply left him out of the loop. "But nothing's happened for so long."

"You nearly got killed by a bunch of students," Harry said. "Until we can talk to them, Dumbledore says we shouldn't rule out our saboteur's influence."

That made sense, he thought. Maybe he shouldn't have cursed his attackers so soundly. He smirked. No, he was glad they were all mutilated and plague-ridden. He just wished he'd left them enough strength to talk.

"I can tell what you're thinking," Harry said disapprovingly. "You only get that look when you've really hurt someone."

"They deserved it," Draco said. He didn't get angry, but if it was because he was tired or because he knew Harry wasn't really criticizing him, he wasn't sure. He put his hand to his chest and felt the honey amulet under his shirt.

"Thank you for walking me down here," he said softly. "I'd be nervous if I was alone."

Harry smiled. "My pleasure."

As they walked, Draco edged a little closer to him, almost shoulder to shoulder, and felt gratified when Harry didn't shy away. Just being in his presence felt comforting. He knew Potter would stand between him and anyone who tried to hurt him. And hadn't Dumbledore said that he and Harry could pull off impossible feats if they were together?

All right, he thought, that wasn't exactly what the headmaster said, but it was still true.

When they reached the dungeons, he paused at the door and turned towards Harry, unsure of what to say. He blamed it on his sleep deprived mind and felt better when Harry spoke first.

"Do you think you could teach me more magic again? I mean, after you've slept, of course." Harry flashed him a proud grin. "I've mastered everything you've taught me so far."

"Sure," Draco said. "I'll teach you to call down lightning next time. We can use the quidditch pitch for that."

"Oh right, I wanted to ask you," Harry said, looking excited. "Now that the Slytherins are back, you'll be getting a team together, right?"

"What?" Draco blinked. Quidditch? Now? "But it's so late in the season."

"That doesn't matter. I know you haven't been following the games," Harry said. "I wouldn't if I knew I couldn't play, it'd be too painful watching everyone else. But we didn't force any forfeitures. Games against Slytherin were just postponed."

"You mean we're still scheduled?" Draco's eyes widened.

"Yes. Your first game is in a few weeks. It'll be tight, but you can still play."

Before he could respond, the Slytherin door opened and Pansy glared out at them. "There you are, Draco. You should've told me you were going out with--Potter?" She froze and stared at Harry. "What are you doing here?"

"It's all right," Harry said. "You don't hate me anymore."

"What?" she blinked. "Of course we--"

"Of course we don't," Draco said over her. "I'll explain later, Pansy, but he's right. We don't hate him. Potter's our friend now."

Her jaw dropped a little and she looked at him like he was crazy. And then her eyes narrowed and she looked back and forth between them. "What on earth happened while we were gone?"

"A lot of impossible things," Draco said, still looking at Harry. "I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

"Of course. See if you can stay out of trouble until then."

"I could tell you the same."

As he watched him walk away, Draco leaned against the wall, barely hearing Pansy snapping at him. Despite the war and the little day to day battles, thoughts of playing Quidditch again filled his head. He'd have to form a team, select players, hold brutal practice sessions to bring them up to speed. He half smiled as he walked into his common room, thinking about playing against Harry again, battling him for the snitch and flying side by side. "Wonderful," he mumbled to himself, "as if I'm going to fall asleep now."

TBC...

Author's Notes:

1. haean -- from haelan, old English, to heal

2. stoabim -- from stobaim, Irish, to stab