Non Time, O Parve Mage

“Harry?” Ron whispered, looking at him from across the scrubbed wooden table of the Burrow.
Harry did not answer; he merely looked up at him through shaded eyes.
“Are you going to kill him?” he asked bluntly; expectantly.
Harry turned his eyes down and nodded.
~*~
Later that night….
“Something you have to realize Draco is that us Malfoys have been bred to perfection.” Havoc said as he headed up the long narrow stair case of the manor toward the attic. “We are physically, mentally, and magically superior to most of those around us. I hate to admit it, but that’s just the way things are. I remember whenever Octavian was upset at Lucius or Narcissa the walls would shake and all the doors would slam shut. When you were little and a kid took your toy broomstick from you, you started emitting black flames—“
“I still do that when I’m angry.”
“I noticed. Anyway, Lucius was always….I don’t know how to describe him. He had an air of power about him. I remember once, when we were visiting the Smithsonian—a muggle museum—there was a robbery. They used a gun to shoot through the glass, and one ricocheted and was headed toward my face—he just swept his hand and stopped it—not one inch from my nose.”
He paused and laughed. “Dad always used to call me mercury because I was so fast—“
“Lucius.”
“Yea, Lucius—why—“
“You called him, ‘Dad’.” Said Draco, his eyebrow raised, smiling craftily. Havoc rolled his eyes. “Anyhow, my point is; you’re powerful Draco. I learnt it too late. But it’s not too late for you.” He knelt before his brother and looked up at him sincerely. “You don’t have to listen to him anymore.”
Havoc entered the attic and walked over to a large basin of water in which various runes and inscriptions were carved. It was filled with what looked like pure, black oil. Havoc waved his hand over it, and the fluid began to ripple from where his hand was raised. He motioned for Draco to come closer to him, and he obeyed. He stared into the basin and waved his hand as his brother had just done.
Draco bit his lip as he watched a hawk swoop down and kill a slender, green snake.
Again he waved his hand, and saw emerald eyes swirl into black and red. Draco felt his heart wrench. He looked again to see Harry’s face shatter like broken porcelain as he stood over him, his heart clenched in his closed fist. Draco quickly turned away as he felt a warm tear trickle down his cheek.
Havoc looked at him and frowned. “Is that him—is that Harry Potter?”
Draco sighed heavily and walked toward the small attic window and lit a candle in the sill. “Yes, that’s him.”
Havoc walked toward Draco and put a comforting arm around his shoulder as they stared down through the window together. A dark silhouette was weaving it’s way through the maze of graves which the manor overlooked.
~*~
Snow crunched under Harry’s boots as he soldiered through the ice laden graves toward Riddle Manor. He shuddered and pulled his cloak more tightly around his shoulders. It was dark—past midnight, and there was a candle lit in one of the higher windows of the mansion. He heaved a determine sigh and fog billowed about his face. When he reached the grand doors, he pulled out his wand and turned the handle.
It opened surprisingly smoothly. Harry bit his lip and headed determinedly toward the staircase across the hall. The light was in the uppermost room of the mansion. His feet made small thuds in the dust as he made his way up the staircase. The dust silenced the creaking wood. When he reached the last stair, he turned to find a narrow door which was slightly ajar, revealing splayed shadows and candlelight.
He kicked the door open and entered with his wand raised doggedly. Draco was leaning up against a small window, playing with the candle that guided Harry earlier. He waved his hand over the flame—teasing it—making it flicker and morph into various colors, grow and shrink. Draco did not acknowledge Harry’s presence. He merely continued waving his hand over the candle making it sputter and flicker.
Harry continued toward him resolutely, his wand pointed firmly at Draco’s heart. Still, Draco played with the candle; ignoring him. Harry furrowed his brow and stepped toward him. He gently nudged his shoulder and spat impatiently, “Malfoy!”
“Yes?” responded a voice from behind. Harry spun on his heel and gasped to find what looked like a young Lucius Malfoy seated on a rickety rocking chair, staring at him. “Who are you?”
“Havoc Lucius Malfoy.” He stood and began walking slowly toward Harry. Harry turned his wand on him defensively. Still, Havoc walked toward him, his eyes glaring. “Son to a negligent father, husband to a murdered wife, father to a murdered son, brother to a maltreated brother, and I have only half of my needed retribution.”
Havoc continued walking past Harry, toward Draco. He raised his hand and pinched out the flame which Draco was manipulating. At this, Draco looked up, his eyes shining, and replaced the candle on the window sill. “Havoc, I don’t think you should—“
“I want Voldemort Dead.” Havoc spat, ignoring his brother. His eyes were glowing with an abandoned fervor Draco had never seen in them before. He straightened himself and put a cooling hand on his brother’s shoulder. “We ALL want him dead, Havoc. That is why we are here.”
“I,” Harry began, once again pointing his wand at Draco’s chest, “Am here to kill the bloody son-of-a-bitch who killed my father.”
Draco leaned into Havoc’s ear and whispered, “I think that means you.”
Havoc rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. “You have your wand on the wrong person—I killed that murdering bastard Dumbledore.”
“You’re lying!”
“No really, I did kill him.”
“He was NOT A MURDERING BASTARD!” his emerald eyes washed over in a furious veil of black to reveal a burning jade. He drew back his wand and began to mutter “Crucio” when Havoc merely waved his hand, silencing him.
“Sit down, and shut up.”
Harry, astonished, obeyed. Mainly because Draco walked over to a chaise, and patted the spot next to himself, urging him to sit. Harry sighed hopelessly and slouched next to Draco. Without looking at him, he whispered, “I am so sorry…I never should have assumed that you—“
“Let’s just call it even.”
“What did you do?” he asked, now looking up at Draco, his eyes watering slightly from pure frustration.
Draco looked into Harry’s eyes and whispered, “I killed you.”
Harry smiled and leaned in when Havoc began to speak.
“Alright. I am going to tell you the exact same thing I told Draco, and I want no interruptions or accusations of equivocation whatsoever.” He proceeded to tell Harry his depressing tale, hand motions and all, when Harry sighed deeply.
“I need to go.”
“You can’t go—I need you to—“
“let him go Havoc. Impedit nos ne pugnemus.”
“Es verum…Very well, Potter—Draco will take you back to the burrow.”
“How do you know I was there?”
“Because I’m awesome.”
~*~
“Draco?” Harry asked from the door to the burrow.
“hmm?”
“Why was I so calm in there—I normaly would have ripped his head off!”
“Because I was there and I wanted you to be calm.”
“Let me guess—that’s also one of your super powers?”
“No—that’s one of yours.”