Non Time, O Parve Mage

Harry stood in the snow, leaning against the cold, stone wall of the manor as a winter breeze played through his hair. Sirius was huddled next to him, his arms wrapped protectively around his knees—his eyes empty. Remus stood whispering soft words of comfort to them, as he held a shaken McGonagall. The rest of the order was either helping the aurors keep tabs on the manor, or preparing a casket for Dumbledore.
Sirius and McGonagall had been crying ever since it registered in their minds that Dumbledore truly was gone. Remus never cried. Harry did not have room within himself to mourn the passing of Albus Dumbledore. He was too filled with confusion, overwhelming rejection, and seething hate for Draco Malfoy. He had betrayed him.
~But how could he have betrayed you—there was nothing to betray—he said no~
Harry shook the first logical thought to come upon him in months from his head.
“Severus!” he heard Remus yell, relieved. Harry turned to see Severus Snape clad in his usual plain black, accompanied by Pomfrey. Apparently, he woke up. His physical wounds had all been healed, with the exception of his left eye, which was covered in a black eye patch. He looked as though apocalypse had come, so Harry assumed he had heard.
“Who did it.” He hissed through gritted teeth.
“You’re little pet Malfoy.” Sirius managed to growl under his breath.
Snape turned to him, blazing. “It could not have been Draco—he is not capable of such a dastardly act—“
“He’s killed before,” interjected Pomfrey, “It was in self-defense, but he had it in him.”
“What I was saying,” Snape continued, “was that Draco would not be capable of killing Dumbledore.”
“But he was under veritaserum!” Remus yelled, “Crouch confessed that it was Lucius Malfoy’s son that killed Dumbledore!”
Snape turned coolly to Remus. “Yes, Lupin—he did. Now tell me—how many sons does Lucius have?”
~*~
Draco awoke to the light of the inquisitive sun—peeking through the curtains. He yawned, refreshed, and quickly dressed himself. He headed toward the kitchen where he was taken last night, to find his brother, Havoc, seated at the table going over what looked like maps. In the bright light of morning, Draco noticed a large, shiny scar that ran from his left eyebrow to his cheek. He did not acknowledge his presence, merely kept running through the pile of maps.
Draco sat down across from him, and immediately, elves began hustling about the kitchen, throwing together some breakfast. Draco bit his lip, and looked nervously at his brother. “Havoc,”
“Hmm,”
“Why were the order and those aurors trying to kill me? Why are you helping me—why are you here?”
Havoc sighed and rolled up the maps in front of him. “It’s an excruciatingly long story.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Draco replied determinedly.
He looked straight ahead at Draco, “Very well. I guess it all started when Voldemort began torturing me in everyway plausible in his spare time: physically, mentally, emotionally, and sexually. I hated him so much that words could not describe it. Not just him—his standpoint. But, he was popular—I’ll admit it. He had too many followers to kill. So—I decided to overthrow him. I had begun recruiting followers as young as twelve for my cause. That’s why Dumbledore expelled me from Hogwarts at sixteen—not that I really needed the teaching. I had already mastered basic magic before I even stepped foot inside the castle.
“Father caught wind of what I planned to do and was so ashamed that his own son would overthrow his ‘master’ that he gave me an ultimatum. If I did not return to England, he would make it seem as though I were dead. That way, no one would come after me—especially not Voldemort.
“I traveled frequently; gathering followers.”
“Followers of what, exactly?”
“Me…and my beliefs. I believed that muggles were destroying the world with their ‘technology’; that the ministry of magic was corrupt and wizard-supremacist. That equal rights should be given to all, not just wizards. That instead of merely obliterating the muggles, we could wean them from their self-destructing world back to the era of classical times while prohibiting them from breeding so profusely to lower the epidemic of them. Eventually, there would be no barriers between the races. This would be done over quite some time, of course.” He paused and looked at Draco thoughtfully, opened his mouth to ask him something, then desisted.
“Anyways, we consisted of peoples from all walks of life; muggles, wizards, werewolves, vampires, veela, sirens, giants, seers, etc. By the late seventies, we had already gained a firm hold on England. However, I remained in France; until recently, that is. One of my seers had made a prophecy concerning Voldemort and a boy named Harry Potter; that one would end up killing the other. I so desperately wanted to destroy him myself, that I let him discover the prophecy while the boy was merely an infant. I was shocked to find that Voldemort would meet his end there…temporarily, at least.
“After he was “destroyed”, I married the love of my life; a vampiress, Gloria. The year Voldemort returned, our daughter, Elise, was born.
“You see, the order has always been very…zealous in their fight against ‘blood-sucking demons’; personal reasons, I suppose. Dumbledore’s lover was killed by vampires. Three months ago, rumors reached Dumbledore and the order of a family of vampires in France that were terrorizing the streets of Paris. Dumbledore came to France, searching for the ‘vampire menace’. In his search, he came across my wife and two year old daughter on the way to the hospital to pick up their weekly supply of blood. Neither of them had taken another life in their entire lives. At the first sign of fangs and nocturnal eyes, he killed them. They were completely innocent.”
He bowed his head and breathed deeply. “Completely innocent...”
Draco leaned forward, “So…what did you do?”
“I did the only thing I could think to do at the time. I flew to England, and killed him.” He locked his jaw and looked at his little brother.
Draco said nothing.
“I didn’t want to cause panic, so I placed a death-eater under the imperius curse to fill in. as far as he was concerned, he was Dumbledore. On Thursday, the order found out that Dumbledore wasn’t Dumbledore. After placing the imposter under veritaserum, they found that Dumbledore was taken by ‘Lucius Malfoy’s son’. Since they figured me dead, and Octavian out of the picture—“
“Octavian?”
“Yeah—he was ten years older than you. He joined the order, so he was erased from the manor—probably your memory as well. I believe he was killed rescuing Sirius Black.” He paused and looked up thoughtfully. “I was always quite fond of him.” he shook his head and brought himself back to earth. “Anyway, they assumed it was you that killed Dumbledore. That’s why they came after you.”
Draco sat still, trying to digest everything his brother had just told him. It was so much. They believed that he had killed Dumbledore? Draco bit his lip—that meant Harry believed he killed Dumbledore.
That meant Harry was coming after him.