After the End

Title: After The End
Chapters 1-5 0f 31

Chapter 1/31

Harry sat on the edge of the armchair after Dumbledore let him into the office.

"Have some tea, Harry." The old wizard offered gently. He had been that way, softer, gentler, sadder since the war and Voldemort's defeat. So many of his students, former and current had died in the battle. On both sides.

"Thank you." Harry accepted the steaming cup, adding a dash of milk, but no honey. He had lost his taste for sweetness, it seemed an indulgence now, a habit from before. A simple habit filled with too much pain, a reminder of too much loss to resume.

"Graduation is in less than two months." Dumbledore remarked spooning a generous amount of sweetening into his own cup. "More than ever before it is important to honor our wizarding traditions. I know it seems pointless with so many friends gone, but we must not give up. We must rebuild our world, Harry. We won, at so dear a cost, but we did win. Now it is our responsibility to remake what has been lost."

Harry stared at the old man, bemused. He'd never had Dumbledore speak to him like this. As if Harry was more than a child, as if Harry was an adult, a peer, and should be let in on adult things. He gulped a mouthful of too hot tea. It brought tears to his eyes as it scalded his tongue and throat.

He swiped a hand across his moist eyes. He was not crying...he was not.

"The Ministry of Magic is a tradition a symbol of order in the wizarding world that we must preserve and respect." Dumbledore continued, his voice low, Harry leaned in closer straining to hear, not wanting to miss a single word.

"Uh," Harry said when Dumbledore paused and looked at him with a strange, unreadable look in his old, wise eyes.

"The Ministry was run by men and women who didn't have our world's best interest at heart, I don't dispute that at all. But now..." Dumbledore seemed lost in thought for a few breaths. He shook his head and continued. "Now, the Ministry is, has become, a rallying point, a symbol that all wizards and witches recognize. One we need if we are to succeed in putting things back to rights, Harry."

He sounds so tired, Harry thought. Beyond exhausted, as if every year of his over two hundred years were sitting on his hunched shoulders, weighing him down. Harry kept his eyes fixed on the kindly face that had been a source of reassurance and strength for him, his own concern growing as he did.

"The Ministry has sent out a decree. Those of you who are graduating," the old wizard's voice caught, and Harry set aside his tea, moving to the other wizard's side. He took the old man's hand in his own. Patted it.

"I don't know how they chose the pairings." Dumbledore continued almost absently. "Most are ridiculously poorly chosen. I mean really, a Weasley and Severus..." He cleared his throat, shaking his head. "Perposterous," he mumbled. "Simply perposterous."

Harry froze kneeling next to Dumbledore's overstuffed chair. What? What was that? It couldn't have been what he thought he'd heard...surely not! "Sir? I am afraid I don't understand...."

"Yes, yes..." The Headmaster of Hogwarts nodded, waving a hand tiredly. "Forgive me, my boy, I am getting ahead of myself. As I was saying, the Ministry has made some decisions regarding the restructuring of the wizarding world in this time of such crisis as we find ourselves embroiled in. How to begin the rebuilding process, a huge, a vast task, Harry and certainly not easily done if at all. But we must try...."

Dumbledore shook his grey head, recalling himself to the frightened boy, no...not boy, a young man now, not a child anymore. A young man who had seen and suffered much to rescue an entire world from slavery and downfall. A boy who had lost so much. And now...this new sacrifice he was being asked, forced to agree to. Dumbledore shook his head again. Spoke. "Meridith Byrne, you remember her Harry...."

Harry did remember the tall, Junoesque woman. Strong, handsome rather than beautiful, and if rumors coupled with his own encounter with her were correct, a formidable witch. Who never smiled at him once. Who watched him with eyes that made his back hunch and his skin creep.

"Meridith has taken over the directorship of the Ministry. Under her guidance it has been decided to apprentice all the remaining graduates of the wizarding schools immediately. And the pairings have been selected by the Ministry. It is not voluntary, I am afraid, dear boy." Dumbledore was shaking his head.

Harry swallowed. "You said, Professor S..s..snape and...." Harry tried to clear his throat, to rid it of it's horribly uncertain tone. His emerald eyes were huge, confused. Looking out for the trick that was being played on him. Looking in vain, for there was no trick.
It was all real, and unfair.

"Yes, Harry. The Ministry paired Ronald Weasley with Serveus Snape." Still shaking his head. "Ridiculous!" The old man muttered. "Who could possibly think...."

Harry sat back from the other wizard, landing with a plop on the floor, not even noticing his smarting bottom as his rump hit the floor, bruisingly hard when he lost both his balance and his grip. Ron and Snape? It was too horrible to contemplate. Then he was hit with an overwhelming dread. He lifted his wary, nearly frantic gaze to Dumbledore's face, but the old man wouldn't look at him, though Harry knew he felt the intensity of his look.

"And me? Who...." Harry whispered. Who was he to go to? Oh god, no. No. No. He knew. he just knew who it was. He felt the blood leave his face.

"Lord Lucius Malfoy has been selected as Master to Harry Potter's Apprentice." Dumbledore murmured at last. And Harry's mind went blank, completly, absolutely, blank.


Chapter 2

"Harry. My god. Have you seen it?" Ron asked Harry as he watched the other seventeen year old pull his shirt back into place and begin buttoning it up to the top of his throat. Harry shook his head. He didn't want to see it, he didn't want anyone else to see it. But Ron had been there when he was getting dressed and he didn't want to let what had been done to him affect his friendship. Not when this might be one of the last times he ever saw Ron....

"No. I don't want to see it." He'd seen the picture of the tattoo before the artist/wizard had marked it indelibly onto his skin, wands flying as he worked, Harry's skin stinging abominably. After that Harry hadn't wanted to see the mark that had been imprinted onto his back. Lucius Malfoy, now Lord Malfoy, had ordered Harry be marked. With a symbol that the Malfoy's had taken as their new crest. Marked like a shirt, a bit of silver...something owned.

A silver, black and green serpent wound tightly coiling round a starkly bent and blackened branch. Delicate cherry blossoms dotted the branch, exquisitely rendered in every detail. The mark covered most of Harry's back. The snake writhed. A single petal broke off and flutterd down to rest on the small of Harry's back. The lazy, dangerous eyes of the snake blinked, peircing into the looker's soul.

"How far down does it go?" Ron ventured the question. Harry had only taken his shirt off, not loosened his trousers. Ron saw the design disappearing below the waist of the pants. he itched to tug the waist of Harry's trousers out and peek. Just where did the snake end?

Harry touched the point of his right hip, not about to pull off any clothes. "Here. They started the mark here. It's tail begins there." He let his hand fall away.

He was marked. Like a letter stamped. Like Scabber's collar. Or a cattle's branding. Livestock, that was what he was. Harry Potter, cow. Pleased to meet you, sir.
He hung his head, tried to busy himself, but ended standing, his hands shaking so hard he clenched them into useless fists and fought not to cry.

"I don't mean...I mean...really Harry," Ron stumbled over the words. "It is beautiful, I mean the work is absolutely brilliant."

"He didn't even ask, Ron." Harry said, facing away from his best friend. "He sent two aurors with an order, pulled me right out of divination class, and I had to go with them. They made me undress, lay on the table, and let the artist put it on me. They held me down, Ron." He still felt the ghost of their big calloused hands on the back of his neck, his head, his thighs.

Harry shuddered. He didn't want to see Lucius Malfoy. Or Draco. Or anyone remotely associated with the most powerful wizard left in the world. Who'd have guessed Lucius was just that? More so than the "Boy Who Lived"? Lucius Malfoy...he belonged to Lucius Malfoy, to Draco's father.

Ron gulped. "Well that's not great, is it?" Ron searched his mind for another topic, any other topic. He spoke quickly, stumbling over the words. "I...I have seen Snape, Harry. He actually talked to me. Told me we had to get along, and that I needn't worry, no matter how idiotic I was, he'd figure out a way to train me properly. It was almost funny, Harry. Him being so nice."

"Well, I don't find any of it funny." Harry sighed, half wondering if it would be so bad if he cried now, in front of Ron. Damn how strange was it, to think Ron by getting hooked with Snape of all people, was getting a better deal?

"He's taken everything, Ron. He owled me that I am expected to improve my scores to a level that was acceptable for his apprentice. Immediately. I am to call him "My Lord". Or "Lord Malfoy". He was a deatheater, Ron, and now they expect me to treat him with respect!? The Ministry gave me to him. Some thanks for deafeating Voldemort. Maybe we shouldn't have tried so hard...." Harry gulped, sniffling a bit. Feeling sorry for himself, for the lot of them, really. Those who had survived.

"No. No. Don't you say that, Harry Potter. He, Lord Voldemort, killed our friends. He killed 'Mione. You can't forget that. I was standing right there. I felt her dying, and I couldn't do anything. I had to watch her die." Ron snarled at him, and Harry shrank back from the suddenly punishing grip the larger boy had on his narrow shoulders. When had Ron gotten so large and so strong? Almost as he thought it, Ron's grip eased, he ducked his head. "Sorry."

Harry felt like the worst kind of heel. He turned and hugged the carrot-y haired young man.

"I'm sorry, Ron. Just feeling a bit sorry for myself. Selfish. Forgive me? It'll all work out. Least it sounds like Snape won't be so bad." But there was a huge hole in Harry's heart. Hermione was gone. His other best friend. It was impossible to imagine life without her. Now he was supposed to make the best of it. Give himself up to apprenticing with Malfoy. An obediant apprentice. For the good of the world.

Harry wondered if he could. If there was enough left of himself to do it.


Chapter 3


Harry gave up and let his eyes drift to the window and the falling snow outside. The sky was grey, almost black, with the light, fluffy flakes floating weightlessly to land on the windowsill. There was already quite a layer built up.

The Gryffindor common room was deserted. The signature red and gold lent the room a glowing warmth that failed to reach Harry's bones even with the cheerful fire blazing away in the fireplace. He shivered, pulling the heavy fabric around himself tightly.

Two days. That was all the time he had left. In two days the remaining twenty-nine students at Hogwart's would leave for their homes. The twelve in the last year would head off to new homes, homes made with their Masters. Harry was packed and ready for his trip, everything he owned, except Hedwig, compressed into a shrinking trunk that would fit in the pocket of his school robe.

Lucius Malfoy had sent explicit instructions by owl in this morning's post. Harry was to be ready to leave the moment his graduation was official. He would not be staying for the ceremony, the subdued celebration that would follow. Lord Malfoy had no patience for such drivel. He was however, gratified Harry had, in the last few months of the term, raised his grades past mere passing to honors level. Harry had shrugged off the tacit approval that earned him. He hated that he'd pleased the man. Hated that it was necessary that he worry about Lucius Malfoy at all.

Roughly, Harry brushed the back of his hand across his eyes. Great, he'd pleased Malfoy. All was right with the world. Then Harry made himself stop, take a deep breath. "Stop whining, Potter!" He muttered to himself.

We wouldn't give in. He was still Harry Potter, best friend of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. The rest of it, the "Boy Who Lived" bit didn't matter. He was a friend. He had friends he loved, and who loved him. He had Dumbledore, though he hadn't seen much of the old wizard in the rush of end of term. It would have to be enough for him to accept his new life.

Life, he mused, was never really easy. If it was he wouldn't be seventeen and trying to cope with the loss of the best friends anyone could wish for. He, Ron and Hermione, and the other Gryffindors would be making plans to celebrate graduation with a butter beer or two at The Three Broomsticks.

Instead, Harry was brooding. "Good show, Potter." He whispered into the silent room. Brooding solved loads of problems, didn't it?

He was wearing the robes Lord Malfoy sent to him. Black, simple cut, but of lush material, obvioulsy expensive. He couldn't have picked out what was different about the cut, but when Ron and Seamus had seen him in them the first time, both boys had done a credible double take.

"Well. Taken a step up, have you, Potter?" Seamus muttered, his eyes dissecting Harry top to bottom, an odd look in them, as if he didn't recognize Harry any longer. Harry pulled back his foot, trying for some reason he failed to grasp entirely, to hide the gleaming tips of his new shoes. Seamus' sharp eyes missed none of it. His lips compressed into a hard line.

"Not likely." Harry rebutted. "I've actually taken a long step down. I'm up to my knees in it, really." And he'd walked off. Burning with resentment and rage he'd promised himself he wouldn't feel, wouldn't let take him over. But, like everything else, he'd lost that battle, too.


Chapter 4


Harry apparated as soon as Professor McGonnagal placed his graduation scroll in his hand. He wasn't supposed to hang around with the rest of the school and celebrate, his instructions were very clear. He had said his goodbyes last night to Ron, Neville and Seamus. The rest of his good friends were gone. The goodbyes had not taken long, then they'd all fallen asleep, huddled together for comfort in the nearly empty common room.

After the horrors of recent months, the boys didn't think twice about being girlish and huddling together. They might not talk about it, ever...but...they did it when they had to, when they couldn't bear things any more, not one more thing without some kind of comfort. So...huddling happened. And wasn't spoken of after.

Harry reappeared on the doorstep to Malfoy Manor, stomach clenching down, his usual reaction to magical travel. If he could, he'd use his broom, but travel by broom was too slow for this. His new Master, Lord Malfoy, wanted him here, now. No hanging about, just quick and without fuss. Definitely don't stop to have fun, or see the scenery.

Being an apprentice was not how Harry had envisioned his life after Hogwarts. He looked up at the towering edifice of Malfoy Manor. It was green, he saw with surprise, a deep, dark green marble shot through with finger thick veins of pure silver, not the black he'd thought it was. As he watched new veins grew in the stone, a sound of deep, echoing cracking ringing in his ears as he watched the metal grow, splitting the stone.

His attention was diverted, just as he was wondering if he had the courage to knock on the imposing wooden door. The massive door swung open without his touch, and Harry found himself looking at a tiny, wrinkled, pinkish shape with big pointed ears and mopey eyes. His heart leaped.

"Dobby?! What are you doing here?" He exclaimed. Dropping to his knee and hugging the tiny body. He felt a smile crease his face as the skinny arms wound around him, hugging him back, hard.

"The Master Lucius asked Dobby to come back when the Ministry of Magic decided Harry Potter was going to be his belonging." Dobby replied, holding Harry back, as tightly as the boy was hugging him.

That made Harry pause, he pulled back and stared into the big glossy eyes of his house-elf friend. Harry didn't know what to think or say to that idea. Malfoy actually doing something for him? Hardly likely. A mistake...an oversight?

"Oh, Dobby. It is good to see you," he said at last, regaining his feet, brushing the dust off the knee of his trousers.

"Come, Harry Potter. I am to show you your room. This way." Dobby hustled off through the entryway, leaving Harry to scramble after him. An icy-cool voice stopped him in the center of the room sized, three story foyer. He looked around and found it's source. As he knew it would be.

"Well, Potter, you always do manage to land on your feet. Though I suspect this time you'll spend more of it on your back. Just remember, I'll be watching you." Draco spat at him. Harry sighed. Not even a moment to relax he thought, bitterly.

"Draco." A silky voice interupted the furious hiss of Draco Malfoy. "You are my son, and I love you. But, you would do well to remember you are speaking to my apprentice. He is not just your classmate any longer. I insist you treat him with the respect of his new position. Do we understand each other, son?" The voice was rich, smooth, vibrant, and ringing with power.

Draco paled further. Harry, frozen like a mouse under a cat's paw, hadn't thought such a thing was possible. He gulped as the tall form of Lord Lucius Malfoy swept into view.

The man had presence, you had to grant him that. Tall and imposing, broad shouldered, his long, silver-blond hair pulled back with a leather cord binding it at the back of his neck. Cool, very pale, grey-blue eyes regared both boys, then settled on Harry as Draco mumbled his apologies.

'Merlin,' Harry thought with a shudder. 'He scares the hell out of me.' And he was supposed to spend the next few years working with the man.

As long as Lord Lucius wanted to keep him, wanted to teach him, he was bound to remain, by wizarding law.

"The ancient laws will be revived," Lady Meridith Byrne had announced in the weeks preceeding the graduation of the Hogwarts' students. Before they were to be doled out to their masters. "The Master/Apprentice bond is necessary in it's fullest, most honored form if we who have survived are to rebuild the wizarding world."

Harry cringed inwardly. What he understood, what it meant was, Lucius Malfoy owned him. Body and Soul. How was he going to live like this?


Chapter 5


Harry stopped outside the library. He straightened his vest and coat. Checked his tie with nervous fingers, stroked the polished buttons of his vest. Three steps would take him around the corner and into the vast book room, and to his first private meeting with his teaching Master. Unfortunately, his feet were as good as glued to the floor in his shiny new shoes.

He could feel the man inside the room. Harry didn't know how he did, but he did. Lord Malfoy was waiting. And further, Malfoy knew Harry was in the hall, scared out of his wits. Harry was just as sure of that. Harry shook the tension out of his fists. He was not going to chicken out and slink back to Dobby and his new bedroom. He was going into the library. Now. He looked down. His feet, clad in perfectly polished black shoes, didn't move a fraction.

Damn.

"Harry?" The voice caught him by surprise, coming as it did from less than a yard away. Gentle, kindly, fatherly. Harry blinked up into the handsome face. "Do you need some help?" Lucius Malfoy asked.

To his utter humiliation Harry felt his head nod without his mind's permission. Lucius Malfoy stood in the doorway, an elegant, purely masculine figure, he held out his hand. Big, too big. Go away. Please, go away. Don't touch me. Harry thought as loudly as he could. Malfoy appeared not to hear him.

Lucius Malfoy hooked a hand through Harry's elbow and guided him into the library. His other hand took a position at the small of Harry's back. The effect being, Harry was virtually cradled in Lucius' embrace, his head on level withthe big man's chest. Harry could very easily have lain his head there on the man's breast, he was that close. Lucius led the boy into the candle lit room to stand in front of one of the chairs.

"Come now, Potter. I took you to be made of sterner stuff than that. Here, this will help." His voice was kinder than the words, but not warm. He wrapped Harry's hand around a glass of amber liquid, his fingers warm and strong. The alcohol sloshed in Harry's unsteady hold.

"Just this time, Mr. Potter, I would suggest you bolt that down all at once. For medicinal purposes. Though that amount gracing your glass is quite worth as much as that despicable Muggle hovel you grew up in." Lucius swirled his own measure, watching the lights play along the surface of the drink.

Harry, to his distress, obeyed the instruction immediately and gulped all of it in one mouthful. He choked. It burned all the way down to his toes. Malfoy indicated his approval, gesturing to the chair. A hint of a cool smile crooked the corner of his elegant mouth. Harry shivered.

"Now, sit. In one respect we have all the time in the world, in another we are starting far too late. Hogwarts coddles it's students, you chould have been past all of the basics by now, and yet you haven't even had the first real lesson. A waste. Time to begin at once." Lucius leaned back more comfortably, he pointed at the chair behind Harry. "Sit, boy. You'll feel better in a moment."

Harry collapsed more than sat in the armchair directly behind him. Warmth was spreading from his toes on up, but nothing seemed to take the jelly from his knees, and even seated he was aware they trembled, knocking together with a humiliating regularity. He rubbed his damp palms over them. Gingerly, he set the empty crystal glass aside, trying to ignore the rattling clink.

"A deep breath next, Potter. In and out. Nice and slow. Nothing to be alarmed at. Not yet." Lucius took another sip, relishing the smooth fire that trickled down his throat. His perfect, white teeth shone, reminding Harry of a serpent's poisoned fangs.

"First important question, Mr. Potter. Why did the Ministry of Magic, in their infinite wisdom, force us into each other's company?" The mercurial grey eyes met Harry's. Harry froze, he'd seen those eyes before, they were the same as the eyes of the basilisk.

"Oh for goodness sake, boy. Think! I am not the enemy here. Merlin's beard, how did you children face down Lord Voldemort at all? Where is your spirit now? Your Miss Granger...." Lucuis was cut off.

"Don't you dare say anything about her!" The shout surprised Harry more than it did Lord Malfoy. His fists beat on his knees in helpless, towering rage.

"Very good, Harry. Oh, very good. Now, as I was saying...." The handsome man was smiling in delight.

"No! You can't say....Not Hermione...." Harry leapt to his feet fists raised, knees no longer weak. Rage shook him from head to foot.

"Sit. Down. Boy." The voice was deadly quiet. The order had to be obeyed. Harry dropped back onto the seat. His breath was ragged, sucked in through clenched teeth, fingers digging into the arms of the leather covered chair. "No theatrics, I am not here to be entertained. And neither are you."

"It has been more than two months since you learned of your new position with me. Miss Granger would have advised you to do your research. Have you researched our situation Mr. Potter? Have you taken any interest at all?" The velvet voice was harsh now, grating.

Harry shook his head once, jerkily. Wondering why his body was not responding to the orders he was giving it to leap across the few feet separating him from Lucius Malfoy and rip the man's heart out.

"Well, I can't say I am taken aback. Are you unable to read? No. That is clearly not the case in light of your recent improvement at school. You graduated with Honors. I was most pleased. Yet, you didn't read even one manuscript on the Master/Apprentice bond? Not even a smidgen of history?" Lucius set his drink aside, shaking his head, knowing the answer. "Weren't you at least curious?"

"No." Well, my voice is steady at least, Harry thought, after the brilliant response.

"I will have Dobby deliver the relevant texts to your room. You are not as gifted as Miss Granger was, it would take you years to find the information unaided. Perhaps decades. She will be sorely missed. Her talents are needed now more than ever. Of all of your little tribe of juvenile rebels...she was the one we could least afford to lose."Lucius stood. "You will take your meals in your room. I will consult with you tomorrow, and see if you have learned anything worthwhile. Now get out." Harry gaped at the broad back suddenly turned towards him.

Lucius Malfoy complimenting a mudblood. Not possible.


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