Icarus Syndrome

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Warnings: Minor OCs who are only named. They mean nothing in the grand scheme of things. Thievery. Introduction of a few Greek gods. Artistic liberty is claimed for the concepts of wand magic put forward here. Rituals!

Thank you, dear readers, for the hits, reviews, alerts and favorites. I am sorry for such a grand delay but it was time well spent, never fear. Never before has my research skills been so thoroughly tested by such a mind-numbing process known to mankind as judicial law. Also, updates will not come at a regular schedule. I'm sorry for this, but real life, writer's block and arrogant muses delay much.
-X-

“These are good.” Draco murmured as he flipped through the notes he had been given by Pansy that included both Ravenclaws', Granger's and some of their own. Harry was across from him with Gryffindors on either of his sides and Pansy and Theo on either of his. Vince and Greg were at the ends, large buffers to prevent any confrontations and stares. There was actually fairly light traffic through the Library, considering. He began to separate the pages based on class and paused when he found the Head/Prefect meeting notes.

“Thanks guys.” Harry said, glancing through his own notes but not overly concerned about them. He was a bit more interested in listening to the stories his friends were telling of events and other things that had happened throughout the time he'd been gone. There wasn't much to tell but it was nice to talk with them. Hogsmede weekend wasn't far away and neither was Quidditch. He wondered if Draco was still playing but dropped the thought.

“He hasn't caused any trouble. Of course, there isn't much trouble he can cause anymore but we're watching him all the same. He's kept to himself and a few Ravenclaws who don't seem to understand Exiles.” Pansy was saying. Draco wasn't listening much, still reading through the notes.

“He's been exchanging mail rather frequently.” Theo said. “We don't believe it is anything harmful.”

“I don't care about Blaise.” He said finally, cutting each of them a hard glare. They exchanged quick glances with one another and then nodded. “What other news in the House?”

“Millicent is mucking about with that sixth year Hufflepuff, the one with the family that traces back to...those...people.” Pansy said, glancing at the Gryffindors. Draco nodded and gestured for her to continue. “All the grades have been separated just as you asked earlier and we have those students who needed assistance singled out. The tutoring is every hour before dinner on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Since the Hogsmede weekend is coming up, we've begun to instruct students on how to behave, which shops to avoid and which they should seek out, and a few...other tips.”

“Good. What about Aulis? Has he begun to distance himself from...”

“Aulis is good. He's with Iole and Laius. I think they're doing good.” Theo answered. “He's not being harassed any longer and the scandal's starting to die down.”

“That's good. Aulis is a good kid.” Draco said, smirking slightly. “All quiet then?”

“As a sepulcher.” Draco nodded in understanding and shook his head.

“I'll be back to take this in hand soon.” His voice was soft but warning and the Slytherins smiled, shivers of excitement shooting down their spines. It even effected the Gryffindors slightly, as they all turned with faint frowns on their faces. Granger in particular seemed interested.

“You're House is that organized?” She looked both amazed and depressed. Draco let his lips curl in a slow smirk.

“Slytherin House has always taken life in the school seriously. Whether it be classes, socializing, or fun, Slytherin prides itself on being the best at everything.” Draco said, shifting back in his chair, causing the illusion that his presence was grander than actuality. “Under my leadership, Slytherin has especially excelled. You and I are the top of the class, Granger. There are only a few Ravenclaws and fewer Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors in the highest percentage of the class. If you took the time, you would notice the surplus of Slytherins. Slacking in school isn't in the best interest for anyone.”

“Experience.” She said finally and Draco frowned slightly. “That's one of the other reasons Dumbledore must have picked you as Head Boy. I couldn't work it out. You know as well as I and anyone here that your behavior has been hardly exemplary. The Head Boy position is decided by more than grades. Leadership, experience, knowledge of school rules, customs and traditions. I knew you were the top of the class beside me, and being pureblood, I expected custom and tradition to follow. Leadership was obvious. But it was experience that clinched it. That's why the Headmaster asked me to organize this with you.”

She began to pull out a sealed scroll and tapped her wand against it. It was a detailed list of each class in Hogwarts, in every house and a small but poignant description of their strengths and weaknesses. Draco's brows shot up and he began to look through it intently.

“He wanted to create a school-wide tutoring program, along with other activities to promote House relations. I organized the DA so I have some experience so I was a bit uncertain why he was so adamant about having you help me. I thought he'd only meant that I had to clear things with you to get both the Heads' approval and to motivate Slytherin. I understand what he'd meant now.”

Draco looked up at the brunette, meeting her brown eyes steadily.

“You understand that I will not be able to focus on this until I am caught up with my studies and I am no longer in the Hospital Wing?”

“Yes. The parchment is self-updating, as are all the notes on the Head/Prefect meetings. We have time to organize and implement our plans.” She said, giving him a tentative smile. He nodded back and resealed the scroll with a finger tap. It quivered like it didn't wish to obey and then promptly sealed itself with the Hogwarts crest.

“Wandless, Draco? Impressive.” Pansy said, eyebrows raised. He rolled his eyes.

“By-product. It's not overly reliable. Have your senses returned and my wand has been procured?” He asked. The Slytherins exchanged glances before they turned to Theo. The boy sighed and placed his hand on his arm.

“Your wand is ensconced in the Head Boy dormitory and when we received permission to access said room by Professor Snape, we discovered that your wand...Draco, your wand isn't in your room anymore.” He said softly. “There has been no forced entry. Someone knows your password and obliviated their presence from the portrait's memory. We can't locate it.”

He felt blood run out of his face. That wand was...the most important thing his father had ever given to him. There was so much history with that wand, not to mention how deeply he relied on it. It had been...his. That was his wand!

His magic rose and stirred the air angrily, ruffling their robes and the parchment on the table. He growled, eyes flashing as he slammed his hands on the table and rose sharply.

“Potter.” He hissed, silver eyes bright. “Change of plans.”

He jerked his head sharply, magic reaching out to the Gryffindor and tangling with his. Images and concepts flashed through his mind and Harry rose up without any complaints, face hard and as angry as Draco's. They made an impressive pair as their magic snarled about them, lifting parchment and neatly folding them away and slipping into robe pockets. Draco's angry saunter was easily matched by Harry's stride and the pair vanished out of the library.

The Slytherins and Gryffindors hovered a moment in disbelief and awe and then broke apart in a flurry, taking off after their friends.

-X-

Draco stopped in front of a portrait of a darkly colored man, sitting in a dark throne and with an empty one beside him. The man looked up with eyes the same silver as Draco's but he remained quiet and calculating as he looked upon them.

“Hades.” Draco said, calming to meet the portrait's gaze. The man lifted a brow and tilted his head. “My friends have already asked, but I must know for sure. Someone gained admittance to my rooms without my consent and has spirited away my wand. I must know if you know anything about this.”

The man sighed and leaned forward, resting both his arms on the chair and interlocking his fingers. He seemed very ancient suddenly.

“I find myself in a very unwilling position, Draco. I have never failed in my duties as guard before and find myself at a loss. The villain has effected my memory of the event which is not a very slight thing to do. I am not only a portrait, but a portrait of a god, imbibed with powers witches and wizards cannot fully understand. It is near impossible to harm or effect me, even in this form. I can only surmise that the villain used blood magic.”

“Blood magic?” Harry asked sharply. Draco understood at once and frowned.

“The only blood to effect you would be blood of your relations. You only have ever had one wife. There were never any mortal women, were there?”

“Blood of my blood, yes. I am but a third brother and my brother Zeus has had many affairs. That is even discounting my brother Poseidon from the list of the suspected, as well as sisters. I would have to surmise that the blood came from Zeus, however. The headache that lingered had the faintest of senses that match his. ” He answered, looking depressed. “There are many possibilities. Too many.”

“Blood strong enough to effect you.” Draco snorted, feeling helpless and lost. “Not only that but blood from a King of the Gods himself.” He felt like hyperventilating.

“Draco.” Harry said worriedly, taking his arm. Draco shook him off.

“Thank you, Hades.” He bowed smoothly and then uttered the password, “Persephone.”

The god smiled and the door swung open. Draco strode inside and began to look around, hoping to at least find a clue of some sort. He heard Harry climb in after him and the portrait swing shut. He wondered briefly what Harry thought about his room, if it matched with the standards he'd expected, but he brushed it aside and carefully looked about the room.

-X-

Harry had expected a replica of Slytherin's Commons, or maybe even a room similar to what Hermione's Head Girl room looked, simple woodsy colors with House accents. He didn't expect this.

Draco's room consisted of a lounge/common room, with chairs and couch, a table, a painting and a bookcase, along with knickknacks that obviously belonged to him. There were two doors wide open, a bedroom visible through one and a bathroom through the other. He began to wander around, unsure if he should touch anything, but Draco seemed very focused on what he was doing and he didn't want to interrupt.

The color scheme was very simple, dark grey chairs and matching couch stood against an ice blue set of curtains. The window showed a nondescript view of the grounds and the Forbidden forest. The wood was all highly polished white wood. The bed was done in shades of silver and white silk and was perfectly made, without crease or dip. There was a white wood wardrobe, door hung open and stretched like a great maw, rack upon rack of clothes tucked away. There was painting on the wall, an empty field filled with flowers and blue sky.

He wandered back out and past Draco who was pulling books off the shelf and stacking them on the table. He peeked into the bathroom, seeing white tile and stone, and found both a shower and a deep bath, just under the size of the Prefects bath. There was a multitude of product over the shelves and even a box filled with ribbon left open. There was also a painting in here, one of muted grey and emptiness, just miles and miles of stone and a metal grey sky.

He went back to the commons and found Draco still pulling books off the shelf and moved closer to glance at the titles. All were in varying forms of Latin and what he suspected was Greek. He cast a look at Draco and flipped one open, discovering it was a genealogy book.

“Draco.” He looked up to see the guard portrait, Hades, standing in another painting, this one a field of fire and smoke. “There are Slytherins and Gryffindors without. Would you like me to allow them inside? They know the password.”

“Yes. Please let them in, Hades.” He nodded and gave a slight bow to the painting. The man vanished and Harry let his eyebrows rise.

“Have you found what you're searching for?” He asked as he heard the portrait swing open.

“Draco!” Pansy shot in and hugged him hard. “You're such an inconsiderate bastard! You can't just run out of there so pissed off with the Savior in tow! Honestly!”

“Pansy. I'm Draco, Prince of Slytherin and Head Boy. I can do as I please!” He said impatiently. “I spoke with Hades and I've found out a few things. Namely, how my portrait guard was effected.”

Pansy and Theo gasped and Hermione butted her way into the conversation.

“You have a GOD for a portrait guard?!” She asked in disbelief. Draco sneered.

“Yes, Granger. Hades,” He said the name with heavy emphasis. “is the Greek god of the underworld. Surely, you're not as idiotic as to not know that!”

Her lips tightened in anger and she exhaled sharply.

“I know Hades is the god of the underworld. I was in disbelief over the fact that the god is a guardian!” She explained, voice hard. Harry glanced at her and covertly moved closer to Draco. He wasn't sure yet what effect spells cast at Draco would have on him, but he hoped he could defuse potentially harmful situations without magic. “My guardian is a real woman.”

“Hades is just as real,” He sneered back, “as your guardian. He existed. Christianity the muggles brought with them succeeded in sealing up their powers. They are but shadows of what they once were. A man, who had met the god and survived, painted him and in the painting, Hades has been given power. The remembrance and worship has brought some power back but not to the point as they were before.”

“As fascinating as this history lesson is, Draco my dear,” Pansy interrupted, face pale and tight, “you were explaining that Hades gave you a clue toward our solution.”

“Right.” Draco agreed. He laid a hand on the stack of books he'd gathered and stared hard at each of them. “My lecture to Granger had a point. The Greek Gods had existed long ago, and they left their mark on the world. Hades informed me that only blood magic could effect him. He himself has never had mortal children, but he was the third brother, right beside Zeus and Poseidon. Hades informed me that it was a faint echo of Zeus' touch in the magic that effected him so it is to his line that I am directing the search. Someone in this school is walking around with the blood of Zeus in their veins, however diluted and sparse it may be. That someone stole my wand from my rooms for unknown purposes. We need to find them.”

“The blood of Zeus himself?” Theo asked aghast. Surprise and confusion reigned in various expressions and Draco growled.

“Yes, Zeus. King of the Gods. The same Zeus who has had affairs with more mortal women than nearly all other gods. The same Zeus whose blood was used to swipe my wand!” Draco snarled.

“What would they need your wand for?” Ron asked, eyebrows drawn down from the moment the blond had spoken so rudely to Hermione.

“My wand was special.” Draco said tightly. “It had many modifications done to it during the War and I have spilled my own blood on my wand. It's fused to my magical core. A person could theoretically use my wand to drain me of not only my magic, but my life, my memories. It could tell them everything I was doing and since my wand ties my magical core to it, it essentially ties Potter to it as well. Due to my curse, it ties my father to it, the hereditary magic of the entire Malfoy family, residual magic from being the last male blood Black...Are you understanding me? My wand...Whoever stole my wand holds more power and magic at their disposal than any wizard has ever possessed naturally.”

-X-

Silence reigned between them. Their friends were gone, fear and worry even more prominent now than before. Just when he thought that they were getting better, once he thought that he understood the situation, something came in and destroyed it. This was... a really bad thing. Really bad. Dumbledore was alerted, but one of the modifications had made Draco's wand immune to summoning magic. Of course, the thief had probably hidden their tracks and cloaked the wand's entire presence so it was equally a moot point.

Harry wasn't quite sure what to say to the blond. Despair and depression filled the air. This wasn't what Draco needed. His father was soon to die, his mind was filled with holes, his magic was barely in his own control and now, his wand was missing. Most of what he'd described had surprised and alarmed him. He hadn't known it was possible to link his wand to his core, but the way Draco explained it made it easier to understand. It was an outlawed practice as it was both blood magic, which made it borderline Dark, and it tied the wizard's life to the wand. If the wand was snapped, it could drain the magical core of the wizard until they were little more than a squib. It was a very dangerous practice and Harry couldn't believe the Slytherin had put so much power into such a small thing. Relying on the chance that his wand was never out of his possession did not seem really Slytherin.

Some unknown thief had his, Draco's and Lucius' lives in their hands now. It terrified him more than Voldemort had ever been able to. After all, Voldemort had never been able to simply snap a wand to end his life. What Draco must be feeling... He swallowed hard.

“Draco?” He reached out a hand and felt Draco's tense arm muscles under his hand. The boy looked... cold...icy...distant... He sat there expressionlessly and stared at the table. The white wood gleamed in the candlelight and he could see the grain. “Draco?”

“Potter.” Draco's flat grey eyes lifted to meet his. He winced and dropped his gaze.

“Draco, we'll find your wand and when we do...” He paused and slid his hand down until he had Draco's hand with his. “When we do, we'll make him pay.”

He said it with confidence, anger and righteousness. Oh, whoever took Draco's wand would pay dearly for doing this to him and Draco. Draco didn't deserve this fear and panic, not with his father's death looming so close. No. Harry would make them pay. He was Draco's guardian.

“Pay? You know, Malfoys have always been very vindictive when managing revenge.” Draco fanned his fingers open on his free hand, inspecting the clean and manicured nails. His other hand was tight in Harry's. “There isn't much a Malfoy will balk at when it comes to revenge. Are you... prepared for what I am willing to do?”

“Draco.” He moved until he was beside Draco, knee on the floor and grabbed Draco's free hand with his own. “It isn't revenge. Vengeance. Justice. He will get what he deserves for doing this to you.”

He knew his magic was struggling to get free and declare itself but they had been advised against using any magic. The person who took the wand may not understand the power they truly held as Draco kept the modifications and other things deep secrets, but there was no need to play with fire and risk it. He calmed himself and stared up at Draco. It was a position he didn't find himself much minding. It seemed the best way to offer Draco both control and respect.

“Justice? For a Malfoy? A Black?” Draco said, voice tinted with disbelief. “Many will say that neither family has any right to justice and what has been done to us in return is...justice.”

“They're lying, Draco. It doesn't matter who your family is. Blood doesn't decide right and wrong. You deserve justice for this and I will give it to you.”

Draco smiled down at him, lips twisted in a cruel and sweet way that sent chills down his back.

“You would, wouldn't you? If I asked a price... You would not hesitate to pay it... You wouldn't back down...” His eyes brightened, melting into a sterling silver. “Harry Potter, Savior-Of-Us-All, would truly give justice to the crimes done against me?”

“I will protect you, Draco. Whatever the cost of blood or magic, you are mine forever tied.” He said softly. He knew instinctively that these were the right words. Draco was raised to expect formality and distance. The best way to reason with him was to use arguments based in these. Draco wasn't raised in a world of passion, action and emotion. But, Harry thought as he rose up, still on his knees but higher than previously, he certainly took to them well.

Draco's hands had felt like tamed lightning against his skin and he savored the feeling, hand still tingling as he drew it out of Draco's and up to his cheek. Silver bright eyes watched him, fixed on his actions like a hippogriff. Perhaps, Draco was more similar to the creature than he had felt comfortable. Ill words and disrespect only earned a lashing. Draco seemed to take his actions as non-harmful though and allowed callused fingertips to brush against silken skin.

“You promised to be my friend, Potter. Are you going back on your promise?” Draco asked, eyes suddenly wide and hand shaking slightly in his grasp.

“I never break my promises, Draco.” He drew his hand back and slowly let go of Draco's hand. He sighed as he rose up and began to walk around the table to the chair he had abandoned. A hand caught his robes and he looked down in confusion. Draco's face was turned away, acting as if he was unaware of what his hand was doing.

“Please.”

That single word conveyed more than Harry understood. Draco's best weapon was his tongue. The depth he could effect people was water Harry would never be able to tread. Slowly, he took Draco's hand in his again, carefully untangling his fist from the robes and drawing it up. He twined his fingers with Draco's, eyes dropping to half-mast at the pleasant shock at the contact. Gently, he pulled Draco's hand up, watching the blond until he was sure he had his attention, and when he met silver eyes, he pressed his lips over Draco's wrist, pulse fluttering quickly under his lips.

“As you wish.” He answered softly, drawing Draco to those comfortable chairs before the window. He dropped into one and pulled Draco down into it with him. He shifted under Draco's weight and felt a hand latch about his neck and then Draco's soft cheek pressed into it, right beside his steady heartbeat.

They sat there for some time, Draco's shaking had wavered until the blond was breathing soft against his skin and his pulse had slowed down considerably. He let his hand stroke Draco's back, feeling the scars and tracing them with his fingers.

“I told you that you wouldn't fall for me. There isn't much about me that I thought you would like. I'm not ignorant. You would have never bothered with this if it weren't for the curse, but... in a way... I'm grateful.” Draco sighed and pulled away to meet Harry's green eyes. “You don't have to do things for me because the curse makes you. You can throw off the Imperius, surely you can throw off this compulsion.”

“Draco...” Harry felt his mouth drop open and felt anger and disbelief fill him. “How long will it take for you to understand I'm not under a compulsion? No one has ever made me do something that I hadn't agreed to do or allowed to happen. Do you honestly think that this curse was doing all this, making me do all this?”

“It would be easier to explain it that way.” He admitted, lifting up their clasped hands. “Did you ever even imagine that you could do this with me and not care? Did you ever see a world where we were friends? I haven't. I never thought it possible and I stopped wishing for it a long time ago.”

“Wishing?” He asked gently, squeezing Draco's fingers tightly. “Draco?”

“I heard many stories of the Boy-Who-Lived during my childhood from nannies and strangers. I had hoped to meet this boy and be his friend. I thought he'd be the best friend. I thought he'd be a bit... like me...” Draco trailed away and stared into space. “I didn't know that was you in the robe shop. But the scrawny little boy was... interesting... I tried to get to know him my father's way, but I could tell that failed. I even searched for him on the train and then I heard the rumors. Harry Potter was on the train, and lo and behold it was the robe shop boy. I thought a formal introduction would be in order, and I was wrong. Laughed at and rejected, all for the Weasel.”

“Laughed at?”

“Weasley laughed when I introduced myself. You didn't seem to mind teasing... if it wasn't one of your friends.” He accused. Harry frowned.

“I just met him.”

“You had just met me.”

“You were snobbish in the robe shop. How was I supposed to get along with a brat? Besides, you insulted Hagrid.”

“A man you barely knew.”

“You were talking about things I didn't understand!”

“How was I supposed to know? Only wizards and witches frequent Diagon Alley.”

Harry lapsed into silence and rolled his eyes at Draco's smug face.

“That's all in the past now. Maybe we should focus on the present?”

“The shitty part or the part with me in your lap?” Draco asked after brief contemplation.

“So they aren't both shitty?” Harry asked and then winced as he felt Draco pinch his ear hard. He laughed a bit and rolled his eyes at the blond. “I did promise to be your friend. If you feel like we've stepped over a boundary, I'll back off.”

“No.” Draco sighed and settled back down. Harry ignored how comfortable and easy it was to have the blond in his lap. “I need something to focus on besides this nightmare my life has become.” He looked up at Harry seriously, silver eyes very somber and stern. “I never meant to get you pulled into this with me.”

“I know you didn't.” He agreed and thought that that was probably the closest he'd get to an apology. “Your father just wanted to protect you. Somehow, he's decided that I'm the best way to protect you. I have to say I'm a little... glad. I would have tried to help you regardless, and I know you don't believe me, but I think... that since it's me...”

“Potter.”

Harry sighed and rubbed his hand along Draco's back.

“Alright.”

-X-

“Your wand's tied to your magical core right?” Harry asked. Draco had pulled him from the chair to his bedroom and they were laying under the four-poster's canopy. The white curtains were heavy and blocked out unwanted light. Magical lights had brightened when the curtains closed and Harry found himself looking at a recreation of a night sky. Draco the Dragon's stars were the brightest, but they only cast so much light. Draco had blushed when they glowed and he'd backhandedly admitted that he wasn't fond of the darkness.

“Yes.” Draco turned so he could look at Harry's face. Harry was laying on his back, arms crossed behind his head and he was staring at the stationary stars.

“Could you trace your wand through the link? Could you find it that way?”

“I've already tried.” He said, sighing. “There's nothing. I can't even feel it. It could be about to be dropped into a fire and I wouldn't know. Not until-”

“I won't let that happen.” Harry said, sitting up on his elbows and looking over Draco's distraught face. “I swear it.”

“I-” He stopped and then stared hard at Harry's green eyes flatly. Harry tried to understand what Draco was doing, but couldn't even guess. He settled for staying still and letting him stare. Slowly, if he hadn't been watching for it, he would have never noticed, Draco's eyes softened and the rest of his face followed until his lips curled into the smallest of smiles. “I believe you.”

Harry felt warmth take hold of him and smother him under it.

“In any case, the modifications on my wand make it difficult to trace and track it.” He continued, knocking Harry back on the pillow and resting his head on his chest. Harry's eyebrows rose quickly and he bit back a smile. Draco was certainly more... touchy-feelly than he had suggested. “I hadn't made any contingency plans for a situation that left my wand inaccessible. A bit stupid looking back, but most of the modifications prevented the wand from leaving my care in the first place.”

Harry hummed and fished around for a few more ideas. Draco's fingers were wandering over his abdomen, tracing things he couldn't guess. One, though, distinctly felt like a lightning bolt.

“You said you spilled your blood on the wand. Could you use your blood to find it?”

Draco's fingers paused and Harry gasped for breath when Draco suddenly pushed on his chest as he turned to face him. Harry wheezed at Draco's enthusiasm and sucked in a breath.

“Potter! I can't believe I didn't think of that!” Draco's face lit up like firework and the large smile was something to remember, as he was sure it was rare. “It's blood magic of course so it needs to be kept very hush and I'll need to see Severus for the book, but I know the exact ritual! This is wonderful!”

Harry nodded but brought his hands up to Draco's shoulders and pushed him back so that he could catch his breath.

“Oh, Merlin! I'm sorry!” Draco's giddiness was dimmed markedly as he watched Harry try to catch his breath. He rolled his eyes and gave Harry an exasperated smirk. “Never thought I'd apologize for hurting you, Potter. Come on. We can get the book from Severus and try to get this solved.”

“Yeah. It's alright, Draco. I know, this time anyway, that you didn't mean to.” He said, flashing the blond a forgiving smile. “How long would it take to get this ritual set up and preformed?”

Draco held aside the white curtains and they fell back in place as Harry climbed off the bed.

“It shouldn't take much. We'll need my blood of course and if I remember correctly, we'll need at least four other people, a very large room, chalk, hawthorn and water.” Draco chattered as he grabbed Harry's arm and hauled him down toward the dungeons. “We'll have to ask Severus for a flat plate to pour the water in. We've only a few times a day we can preform it, too.”

“Isn't everyone in class now though? Wouldn't we be interrupting?” Harry had to stop himself from crashing into Draco as he abruptly stopped.

“Shit! I forgot about that!” He seethed quietly and then began to briskly carry forward. “Never mind. We can still get the book. The rest of it can wait. You know more of this pile of stone than I, Potter, can you think of an appropriate room?”

“The Room of Requirement will get us whatever we need. Let's get the book and head up there. I'll send messages to Ron and Hermione. That takes care of two people. Who else do you want?”

“Pansy and Theo.” He answered easily. “That should balance things a bit more, but we'll have to see. It's been ages since I've actually read about the ritual. It should be easy enough to preform, though. The stronger you are magically, the easier most ritual spells are. You're a better foundation.”

“Foundation?” Harry asked, keeping pace with Draco's brisk stride. It helped that he had longer legs. Otherwise, he was quite certain Draco would have lost him two corridors back.

“The central figure of a ritual spell acts as the corner stone. Everyone's magic is focused about you. The weaker you are magically, the harder it is to control that large amount of magic. Stronger foundations are familiar with using more power. It's about will and strength. It's a common practice to measure the strength of everyone and generally two with the highest potential are the foundations.”

Harry nodded along, intrigued. He had never learned anything before about ritual magics. It was very interesting. He realized that there was probably large areas of magic Hogwarts didn't teach, that most learned specially or were taught at home. He wondered just how much magic Draco knew. As a pureblood, he probably knew more than Hogwarts could teach. He gave the boy an appraising stare and interrupted the lecture Draco was giving.

“Draco?” The blond glared at being interrupted and frowned at him.

“What? Am I boring you? Are the words going over your head?”

“No, you git.” Harry sighed and pulled Draco to a stop. The blond huffed and tapped his foot impatiently. “I wanted you to teach me.”

“Teach you?” Draco asked, voice blank but eyes wide and amazed. “What the hell could I possibly teach you?”

“Well, you know all of this stuff. Hell, I bet you know a lot more than what's just school-friendly too. And I'm betting that you know traditions, customs and formalities that no one even thinks about anymore because they're such commonplace things and purebloods do them without thought. Like that one thing your lot did on Halloween.”

The Halloween sixth year hadn't gone by without the usual heartache and hope. He'd been preparing to go with Dumbledore to Godric's Hollow to visit his parent's grave and search the place for a suspected Horcrux. It hadn't escaped his attention, though, when the purebloods flocked about Malfoy and left the Great Hall without anyone the wiser. He'd tailed them, as it had been very suspicious behavior, but all they had done was head outside, light candles and form a circle. He'd been surprised when they sank to the ground in all their pureblood glory and began to talk as if they'd been in the Great Hall. What had been interesting though was that each was speaking of their honored dead.

“Yeah, Halloween. We'd done a few things like that in small groups with the Headmaster's permission. That was the first time we'd been able to do that as such a large group. It brings the dead closer, the more people you have. They can hear you.” Draco smiled softly and gave his hand a hard squeeze. “Maybe you'll join us this year. It's only mostly purebloods because they don't teach things like that to Muggleborns.”

“Exactly.” Harry said. “You know so much. Stuff they don't teach you here. I want to learn that.” Draco nodded slowly and then smirked.

“Alright, Potter. We'll add that to the list. Meditation, Rituals, Forgotten Arts. Anything else?”

“I'll let you know.” He tugged Draco's hand and gestured to the hallway with his other. “Weren't we headed somewhere?”

Draco snorted, tugging Harry back down the hallway, pace a little slower than before.

“You're such a bastard, Potter.”

-X-

For being such a nasty, obnoxious, bigoted, foul-mouthed, narcissistic, insecure brat, Draco Malfoy was exceedingly clever. Hermione felt it was safe to acknowledge that much at least, in the face of all such evidence. It could not be said that she wasn't the brightest witch her age. She merely hadn't expected Draco Malfoy to be her equal, brightest wizard their age. His nastiness eclipsed so much of his potential, it made it hard to remember that he was at the top of the class beside her.

Wand modifications were terribly difficult bits of magic. There was a reason there were only so many wand makers and why those wand makers tended to hold their secrets tightly. She hadn't thought about effecting the wand itself, in all her theories about magic. She'd viewed the wand as the rest of the world viewed it, a funnel, a channel. It was a conduit of greater energy. However, most magical folk were useless at channeling magic without wands, which made them such grand commodities. It made sense to view the wand, not the magic itself, as a wizard's heart, where magic would be the blood. Without the blood, the heart couldn't function. Without the heart, the blood wouldn't flow.

Draco's cunning had opened a world of magical possibilities. Of course, they were just as dangerous as they were good, but who made the grand decision of what is right for everyone? Surely, those people who had created the levitation charm and preformed human transfigurations could guess that their creations could be used for harm. Intention was a primary directive of magic after all.

But his spot of brilliance set her to thinking. She would have to interview him deeply about what he had done exactly and how a person could do it themselves. Research would have to be done. Proofs and evidence gathered. She wasn't sure how willing he would be, but she would get his help. If not, she was perfectly capable of replicating anything he could do. But, since he and Harry were practically all but physically joined at the hip, and didn't that inspire images she didn't want to imagine with her best friend as the star, she was sure she could cajole them both into helping.

“Hermione?”

She shook herself out of her trance and smiled gratefully at Ernie. Professor Vector was about to turn back from explaining the complicated proof on the board and catch her neglecting to pay attention. Wouldn't that be embarrassing?

Still, Draco's idea about wand modifications would be extremely interesting. She would have to wait, and she would definitely help with the things to come. His father was going to die, there was the mystery of what Lucius was protecting him from, he obviously wasn't at his best physically and not even mentally, and now someone had his wand. It was like a hydra, she would reflect later. Once one thing was achieved, three more took its place, each as deadly as the last. Harry wouldn't quit though and he would make the perfect Heracles.

That stained her cheeks red.

-X-

There was something powerful about patience that the Dark Lord never understood. No. Often, he punished followers for even taking the tiniest extra minute. He wasn't truly a Slytherin. Lucius couldn't care what House he had been Sorted into or what ancestor's blood flowed through his veins. He was a monster, breathing Gryffindor irrationality. He wouldn't appreciate a slow victory. He wouldn't especially appreciate a true sacrifice. Sacrifices were for purebloods, soldiers and virgins. It was easy to use purebloods as cannon fodder.

Narcissa had the thin piece of chalk in her hands, dress dirtying on the flat stone ground. The Malfoy family could pride itself on owning an Alter Room, built when traditions meant more than words and being a Malfoy was tantamount to being a King. There was power deep underground, closer to the core of the earth's natural magic. The Malfoy Alter Room was in fact one of the strongest as it contained gems and metals even the goblins were salivating to excavate.

The ritual wouldn't take place for some time but it was best to be prepared. First the key circle would have to be put down, chalk only being the primary step. Once the basics were down, it would have to be done over a special spell that traced the chalk, cutting into the stone. The ritual would need other things, but the hardest and longest portion was completing the circle. This was a ritual to be completed under the darkest of the night. This would be the last place he would see, the last he would breathe, the last his heart would beat.

His portrait was already set in his study, silent and inanimate. The magic in the paint would catch his essential being but his soul would pass. Behaviors, beliefs and memories trapped in canvas.

He smoothed out the parchment that depicted the proper ritual circle from Scieran's journal. He took up the piece of chalk he had discarded and began to carefully write the words that laced this entire magic together. He could hear Narcissa scratching her piece across the stone, steadfast in her task to draw the proper runes. It was one of his weaker points and one of her most effortless.

The silence between them was filled with words neither could afford to say. Eighteen years of marriage, it would have been near nineteen so soon, had filled their years with words. Words of spite. Words of love. Words of hope. Words of despair. Words of finality. All that could have been. Eighteen years and he could still remember that single night they had exchanged their devotion to one another. It had never been said again. Once in tongue and a thousand times again in action.

He couldn't remember the last time he had ever said the words to Draco.

-X-

Snape had been very tight fisted with his book. It seemed to disappoint him greatly that Draco had been so careless but, seeing the blank and dim expression on the blond, Harry had argued back that those rooms were private and there should have been no way anyone could have gained permission without his or Draco's approval. The Potions Master had nothing more to say to either of them and Draco took advantage of the silence to pull him from the room, book in hand.

“Merlin, Potter, could you please not agitate him?” He complained as they began the long journey up the stairs and toward the Room of Requirement.

“Hey, I only stepped in on your behalf.”

“Well, don't.”

“So you want me to stand there while someone makes you feel like shit over something no one could have predicted?”

“Yes.” He hissed. Draco advanced on him like an angry snake, backing him up until he hit the wall. “You're smothering me again, Potter. You can't protect me from everything! Going to hold my books, protect me from paper cuts? Ride my broom with me? Hold my hand as I wank?”

He colored up quickly, trying to get his mouth to work.

“No.” He said softly, finally.

“Good.” He nodded, silver hair flashing. “Sometimes, Potter, feeling things like shame, disappointment, anger, hurt... They're good for you. They remind you that you can be hurt, that you're just as human as any other person. My emotions are about the only things I have left. Don't take them away from me too.”

Harry nodded as Draco began to walk away. He swallowed thickly and trailed after the blond.

“I'm sorry, Draco. It won't happen again.”

Draco turned partly, eyes silver and soft. He smirked as he nodded again and grabbed his arm quickly.

“Come on. We're burning daylight, Potter.”

Harry let him pull him into a run, their footsteps echoing loudly in the empty corridor.