The Aftermath

Levitating him from the stretcher, Elizabeth Greengrass and Madam Pomfrey placed Harry on the bed in the hospital wing as two more specialised healers from St Mungo's came through the Floo to help.

"Oh, Sweet Merlin!" breathed one of the Healers as he scanned the boy. "How is he even alive?"

"What's wrong with him?" asked Sirius worriedly.

"He's been tortured, Minister, very, very badly," muttered Healer Thomson. "Multiple counts of Cruciatus and other torture curses, broken bones, internal bleeding, trauma to the nerves, deep cuts on the upper torso with a knife, and he seems to have been whipped, too many times to count. His injuries are severe."

"Can you treat him?" asked Amelia desperately.

"We'll do our best, but we can't guarantee anything," he said gravely, conjuring privacy screens. Vanishing the boy's torn clothes, they began the long process of healing him.

"Who?" asked Amelia through gritted teeth, her eyes blazing with fury.

"Voldemort," spat Sirius. "He's back."

"Right under our noses," she said furiously, nails digging into her palm. "This was why the Death Eaters had been quiet. They had been planning this moment to the letter."

At that moment, Cyrus Greengrass entered, along with Daphne, Dylan, Dumbledore and McGonagall.

"Sirius, how is he?" inquired Dumbledore.

"This is the result of Voldemort's torture, so what do you expect?" snapped Sirius. "Cyrus, could you stay here with Harry? We need to take care of this. If Voldemort has indeed regained a body –"

He stopped mid-sentence when Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt entered the room, interrupting him. "Minister, Director Black," said the Auror in his deep voice. "Barty Crouch has been captured. You wouldn't believe this, but it's his own son! Barty Junior is alive and has been using Polyjouice Potion to act like his father."

"Mother Magic, be merciful!" Amelia exclaimed in alarm. "There is no telling how much information he might have gained from the Ministry archives! Barty Crouch Senior was the Head of the Department of Internation Magical Cooperation. He had access to classified information and if his son has someone coerced his father into giving him the passcodes to access them ..."

"Place the Ministry under lockdown! No one enters or leaves the building without my express authorization. Tell Head Auror Scrimgeour to meet me at my office. I'll contact Director Croaker and be there soon," ordered Sirius.

"Yes sir," said Kingsley briskly as he quickly walked out.

"We need to contact the old guard," said Dumbledore firmly. "Sirius, the Order –"

"I am the Minister of Magic, Albus," said Sirius, annoyed. "I don't have time to play errands for you. I know the Order is important and I will support it but I also have a country to run. Do what you can and I'll meet you later to discuss this. I do not want the Ministry compromised. Cyrus –"

"Don't worry, Sirius," Cyrus assured him. "Elizabeth and I will remain here until Harry recovers. We won't leave his side."

"Thank you," said Sirius gratefully. With that, he and Amelia quickly made their way out of the hospital wing. Dumbledore seemed to be thinking hard about something but nodding to himself in determination, he too walked out. Daphne and Dylan were sitting together, leaning against the other as they stared into the distance, lost to the world. They had not forgotten the sight of Harry's beaten and bloody body that was on the grounds ... the stark contrast of him smiling and laughing just several hours before brought tears to Dylan's eyes. The fact that his father, uncle and aunt could have been responsible for this was too much to bear.

Hugging Daphne tightly as she rubbed his back in a soothing gesture, he cried silently on her shoulder. Daphne too couldn't help but shed tears. She did not know if Harry was going to make it out alive.

"D-Daphne is Harry going to be o-okay?" asked Dylan, his eyes red, sounding very much like a young child as he hiccupped.

"I don't know, Dylan," said Daphne quietly, as tears rolled down her cheeks. When Astoria entered the hospital wing, Daphne grabbed her sister in a hug too. They sat there, not knowing what to do, as they waited ... waited for any news about Harry's recovery.

More than three and a half hours later, the four exhausted healers stepped out from behind the privacy screens. The specialised healers muttered instructions to Madam Pomfrey and made their way to the Floo. Elizabeth collapsed in an armchair next to her husband as the matron disappeared into her office.

"How is he?" asked Cyrus softly.

"He's stable for now," said Elizabeth quietly. "But when we began healing him, we thought there was no way he was going to stay alive for more than an hour. We were astounded when his inherent magic began helping us heal his injuries. He's very determined, even when near death. It will take time but with enough help, we believe he will make a full recovery."

"Is he in pain?" Daphne whispered, trying to keep her voice steady.

Elizabeth grimaced. "No potion can negate the effects of the Cruciatus Curse, Daphne. I don't know how long he was under the curse, but from our scans, we can infer that it was pretty long. Don't expect him to be the same after he wakes up; he may not be the same Harry Potter you remember. There is a possibility that he has suffered brain damage that we may not have detected yet."

"Nothing will happen to him," said Dylan firmly. "Harry will be fine! No amount of torture can ever break him, I know it!"

No one said anything to that heartfelt declaration because all of them were hoping that Dylan was right.

HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP

Harry groaned softly as he felt himself wake up. The first thing he registered was acute pain all over his body. Then the realisation hit him that he was finding it hard to breathe. He squeezed his eyes shut when he felt blinding pain shoot up his body from his testicles, nearly paralysing him. He took several deep breaths, ignoring the pain in his chest to combat the pain elsewhere. The unique smell of a hospital made him realise that he was probably at Hogwarts. With a lot of difficulty, he opened his eyes, confirming his whereabouts. The sight of the school's hospital wing greeted him, along with several familiar faces.

Cyrus and Elizabeth Greengrass were sitting in armchairs by the fireplace, both clearly asleep. Astoria had taken a bed for herself and she too was fast asleep. To his left was Daphne, sitting in a chair by his bed and using the mattress as a pillow. To his right was Dylan, resting his head on Harry's arm, refusing to let go as he slept. When he tried to move, Harry winced in pain. Dylan's eyelids twitched at the movement and slowly opened. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he realised with a start that Harry had regained consciousness. Not wanting to wake anyone who was sleeping, Dylan pressed the locket hanging around his neck, which cast a privacy charm around them. It took all of his self-control to not rush into his brother's arms and give him a hug.

"How are you feeling?" asked Dylan softly as he helped Harry sit up.

"Fine, I think," Harry replied in a raspy voice, wincing in pain as his delicate, abused flesh came into contact with the pillows. It hurt even to touch and breathe.

"You always say that you are fine, even when you're not," Dylan grimaced. "Here, drink this. Madam Pomfrey told us to give it to you if you woke up during the night."

"Can I have some water first?"

Dylan nodded and flicked his wand, making the self-refilling water jug pour water in a glass. Once done, he took the glass and gently placed it at Harry's lips, making his brother sip the water slowly, not wanting to increase the pain Harry obviously felt in his chest. Dylan then took the goblet of potion and helped Harry drink it too.

"Thanks, Dylan," said Harry softly. "Where's Sirius?"

"Ministry. When you told him that Voldemort was back, they captured Barty Crouch and now they're doing their best to secure the Ministry. He and Aunt Amelia gave us strict orders not to leave you."

Harry chuckled but coughed violently instead. He looked at the concerned face of the younger boy and smiled slightly. Extending his arms just a little, he whispered, "Come here."

Dylan wrapped his arms around his brother, silent tears rolling down his cheeks. "D-Did my father do this to you?" he asked, dreading the answer.

"No. Rabastan didn't touch me. Voldemort used the Cruciatus Curse once, but the rest of it was all Bellatrix and Rodolphus."

Somehow, that didn't make Dylan feel any better. His own uncle, Dylan's own blood, had done this to Harry!

"What's my prognosis?"

"I don't know," said Dylan, wiping the tears from his eyes. "They said no potion would help with the after-effects of the Cruciatus Curse. Lady Greengrass said they could be some brain damage, but I'm hoping that's not the case. Harry, I'm so sorry ..."

"Don't be an idiot, Dylan, this wasn't your fault. It was mine to have not expected this. It certainly could have been avoided – had I been smart and been prepared for it. I can't believe that I was so expertly fooled. His words are still ringing in my ears."

"What did he say to you?"

"He offered to accept me as his son," said Harry in a monotonous voice, staring at the blank wall. "He said that it was a mistake to have tried to kill me all those years ago, but instead, he should have kidnapped me to raise me as his own son. We're so alike it is unnerving, he said, and I have to agree with him – partly. He was referring to the similarities between me and Tom Riddle, not me and Voldemort. I wonder how my life would have been like had he actually done so. Then again, I do wonder how my life would have been like had my parents lived to raise me themselves."

Harry was suddenly reminded of what Dumbledore had told him several months ago, right after he had been taken to the headmaster's office after his fight with Hermione Granger. When asked as to why he couldn't bury his anger at Dumbledore, Harry had coldly replied that it was difficult not to hate the man who had made his life miserable, and that what-if scenarios always played in his mind. Had Dumbledore made the right choice and let him be raised by Sirius from the start, then the issue of the Dursleys would never have come into play, thus leading to Harry not hating the headmaster. The words Dumbledore had spoken then had been brushed aside by the teenager, but he could understand the wisdom behind the aged wizard's words now.

'It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, Harry ... always remember that.'

"Harry ... don't you hate him?" asked Dylan, looking incredulous.

Harry's eyes darkened as he felt his anger building. While it was true that he respected Tom Riddle, Voldemort was a whole different person.

"Yes, I hate him," he said in a low voice. "I've become soft. He knew exactly where to push my buttons and if not for my skills and some amount of luck, I would not have escaped that graveyard alive. The incident tonight made me realise that the monster who I met tonight was not the little boy I have seen in my memories. Voldemort is a deranged, power-hungry rabid dog that needs to be slaughtered! And I swear in the name of Mother Magic, I'll get my revenge!"

"But Uncle Sirius has still not found the locket!" whispered Dylan urgently.

Harry paused. He had a point. They had no idea where the locket was and unless it was destroyed, Voldemort would never truly die.

"Maybe there are other ways to destroy him without having to destroy the locket. We'll have to look into it."

"He used you to try to get to me, you know," Harry added quietly after a pause.

"What do you mean he used me to get to you?"

"Voldemort has a lot of information about me and he was able to judge me accurately by observing my actions over the years and the relationships I have with different people. When I said he knew how to push my buttons, I meant it. You know how much I loathe child abuse. He tried to reach out to me and manipulate me through it; I could sense that. He also knows how much I care about you; how much you mean to me. He asked me what I would do if you joined him. Would I be willing to join him if you asked me to? To protect you?"

"I would never do that!" spat Dylan passionately. "Do you take me for a fool? I know that my father, uncle and aunt would kill me the moment I step in front of them. Voldemort did this to you and there is no one more important in my life than you, Harry! You're my brother, my father, my hero, all wrapped in one. You have done so much for me, embraced me, loved me, and I won't turn my back on you – now or ever. So you can forget about me joining Voldemort and us being on opposite sides of the war, understood? You better get used to me being by your side all the time because I'm not leaving you! I will never betray my brother!"

A hint of a smile formed on his lips. "No one could ask for a better brother than you, Dylan," Harry said softly, pinching the boy's cheek affectionately. "That really means a lot to me. Thank you."

Dylan grunted, his voice thick with emotion, as he helped the older Ravenclaw lie down again. Sitting down on the chair by the bed, he placed his head on the mattress as he tried to go back to sleep. He felt Harry's hand on his head, with his brother's fingers stroking his hair for a few minutes, and Dylan fell asleep, not knowing the conflicting emotions that were raging in the mind of his father regarding him, yearning to meet his son.

HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP

Severus Snape entered Dumbledore's office, looking pale and shaken, still twitching in several places. Dumbledore, who had been talking to someone on his mirror, deactivated it as he helped his spy sit down on the chair.

"I take it didn't go well?" asked Dumbledore.

"The Dark Lord was pleased with the information I was able to give him," said Snape in a quiet voice. "But he was already well informed about a lot of things. Apparently, he did not waste time like we originally thought and has been preparing for over a year. As for the torture, it is something everyone had to go through. The Dark Lord is angry, very angry that Death Eaters who had braved Azkaban for twelve years still came to find him but we did not."

"Hmm ..." said Dumbledore, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "Any information about his plans for Harry?" he asked.

Snape's lip curled at the mention of Harry Potter. "The Dark Lord has given strict orders that he is not to be touched," said Snape emotionlessly. "I sense that something happened between the boy and the Dark Lord at the graveyard, though I'm not sure what. All the Death Eaters including Bellatrix agreed with him immediately. There are currently no plans for capturing the boy but no doubt the Dark Lord is planning something. Meanwhile, he wants to hear the prophecy in its entirety and asked me if I had found out the other half. He was – displeased – that I did not know it, so he now wants to gain access to the prophecy sphere that, according to Rookwood, is in the Department of Mysteries."

Dumbledore started out of the window, looking thoughtful, but did not comment.

"The prophecy orb might be in his plans, but there are various other matters which take precedence over this," said Snape. "I will also have to prove my loyalty to him by giving information on the Order. He expects results – similar to what happened in the last war."

Dumbledore grimaced. No, he made that mistake once and he wasn't about to do it again. The members of the Order of the Phoenix had all been battle-hardened warriors during the last war – the Prewett twins, Benjy Fenwick, Caradoc Dearborn, Dorcas Meadows, Edger Bones, Marlene McKinnon, Frank and Alice Longbottom, James and Lily Potter – all of them were powerful and talented duellists. He had tried to draw more fire to the members of the Order, hoping they could fight in order to protect the general population but he had been wrong. They had all been picked off one by one by the Death Eaters and Voldemort himself. That had been a very big and costly mistake, one which he didn't want to repeat.

"I'll have to think more about this," said Dumbledore. "But there is a way to make you more valuable to Voldemort. I assume he doesn't like the way the Aurors are being trained ever since Sirius became Minister?"

Snape did not answer.

Dumbledore felt a major headache coming on, but he could see no other alternative. If he had to save lives, other sacrifices had to be made. The students had survived this long without a good teacher – not counting the last two years – so they could do so for another year or two. Hopefully, they would be smart and study on their own, which was all he could hope for.

"How would you like to be the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Severus?"

HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP

"How are you feeling, Potter?" asked Madam Pomfrey, scanning him with her wand.

"I'm f-f-fine," Harry stammered, though his voice was still hoarse. "But I wouldn't mind something that would reduce the pain."

Madam Pomfrey sighed. "All your internal injuries have been healed, but the after-effects of the Cruciatus Curse will decrease only in about a month's time. There are still some lingering symptoms, like the occasional stuttering, body pain and headaches, but in time, I believe you will make a full recovery."

"What about the pain I feel in my lower regions?"

"Where exactly does it hurt?"

Harry grimaced, his face and neck gaining colour. "My genitals," he told her quietly. "And the s-s-surrounding area, I guess … and – well – I have a burning sensation in my arse."

"It's called the Faux Castration Curse, Potter," she replied grimly. "As you know, in wizarding culture, it's considered an insult to Mother Magic to damage any witch or wizard's reproductive organs. Even the worst criminals who would kill mercilessly wouldn't dare attempt it, since it's believed that it would taint one's bloodline by doing so. However, this curse, a very obscure curse, at that, seems to be an exception to them. It targets the genitals, known mainly to practitioners of the Dark Arts, and mimics the pain of castration. That's what you're currently experiencing."

Madam Pomfrey took a deep breath. "I must say I've never met someone with your level of pain tolerance, Potter. Anyone else would have begged me to sedate them so that they could sleep through it. Back to the curse; physically, your testicles have swelled and you're experiencing a constant erection that wouldn't go away. The effects have spread, which is what is causing the burning sensation you feel from the insides of your buttocks and upper thighs. This curse is so rare that it took us quite some time just to identify it. When you were asleep, the St Mungo's healers consulted various experts from around the world, but everyone came to the conclusion that there's no wand-based or potion-based counter-curse for this. There's a salve that helps with the Cruciatus exposure, to a degree, and that's the only option we have to decrease your pain. I'm really sorry, Potter, but you have to let the curse run its course."

Harry remained silent for a minute while Daphne and Dylan looked at him worriedly. Finally, he gave the matron a stiff nod.

With a flick of her wand, Madam Pomfrey summoned a glass jar which contained a silvery paste inside. "This is a salve that should lessen the pain. Have someone apply this all over your body for the next six to eight weeks for the Cruciatus exposure. For the Faux Castration Curse, use the salve liberally and apply it on your genitals, inner thighs and the anus at least four to five times a day. Keep yourself clean and unclothed, as the charms on your garments will interfere with the healing process. Now is not the time to be shy. If you're in a public place and being nude isn't an option, I suggest you use clothes that don't have magic weaved into them but keep it brief. Also, I know I'm asking for a lot, but I must insist that you don't overexert yourself for at least the next five days. Healer's orders!"

Daphne silently accepted the jar offered to her. After instructing them on how to use it, Madam Pomfrey returned to her office. Dylan removed the hospital blanket covering Harry's body and helped him stand upright. Both hissed as they saw the whip marks that covered the area from just below the shoulders on his back to his upper thighs. There were more whip marks across Harry's torso, and his testicles had indeed swelled to more than twice its usual size, having been cursed by Rodolphus to bring more agony to the already injured wizard. By a stroke of luck, however, his penis seemed to be physically unaffected, but the effects of the curse ensured that it was still painfully erect. The other wounds on his body were a different matter altogether.

"I really hope you heal quickly," the younger boy muttered, wincing at the sight before him. There was no telling how much pain Harry was in, but both knew that it wasn't in his character to complain. Dylan applied the salve all over his brother's backside while Daphne did the same to his chest and stomach. Fifteen minutes later, when it was time to deal with the effects of the Faux Castration Curse, Harry squirmed uneasily. Daphne patiently coaxed him to relax and instructed him to spread his legs wider for them, but he refused to do so.

"I'm your fiancée," Daphne said softly, when she realised just how uncomfortable he was. "And Dylan is your brother. I know this is embarrassing for you, Harry, but don't you want the pain to reduce?"

"I should be doing this on my own!"

"If Madam Pomfrey thought you were capable of that, she would have said so. You can do it yourself in a week or two, once you've healed enough. But for now, let us help you. Please realise that it's only us; only me and Dylan, no one else. You've never been shy about your body before –"

"I'm not shy about being naked in front of you both! It's –"

"– the feeling of helplessness," Dylan finished, looking crestfallen and guilty once more. "I get it, Harry, I really do. But you're in obvious pain, we both see it! And I know that I would be embarrassed if I were in your position too, but I beg of you … just for the next couple of months, let us help you. Please, Harry? Only if you heal will you be able to fight Voldemort."

Exhaling in frustration – and coughing heavily once more – he reluctantly spread his legs wider.

As he expected, the searing pain shooting up his body became worse when Daphne alternated between stroking his erect penis and caressing his testicles while applying the silvery paste, with Dylan lathering it on the insides of thighs and buttocks as Madam Pomfrey had instructed him to do. Despite how generously his brother had covered the area with the salve, Harry's anus still felt like it was being exposed to open flame. The pain from his genitals, even from the slightest touch by Daphne's fingers, made him flinch. He had his eyes closed in obvious embarrassment, face burning, and his form trembling. His breath hitched every few seconds in agony.

After ten painful and highly embarrassing minutes later, the two of them withdrew. Just as they helped him sit down on the bed comfortably, the door to the hospital wing unlocked with a click and Sirius, Amelia and Dumbledore entered. All three looked horrified as they took in the various injuries the Triwizard champion had suffered. Unperturbed by his state of undress, Harry exchanged hugs with his godfather and honorary godmother.

"How're you feeling?" asked Amelia softly, tussling his hair affectionately.

Harry coughed violently again and the pain in his chest increased. After pausing for a few moments, he replied in a hoarse voice, "I've heard that question too many times and again, I'm fine, relatively speaking. Exhausted, but fine. Don't worry, Aunt Amy. I'll heal in a few days."

Sirius grimaced; this was par for the course for Harry Potter. The boy hated feeling weak and thus, never acknowledged the pain he obviously felt. He felt incredibly guilty for his godson's current state.

"What happened after I came back to Hogwarts? What's going on?"

After taking a deep breath, Sirius began. "We reacted as soon as you arrived. Thanks to your warning, Barty Crouch has been captured and interrogated. He revealed a lot of information, but Voldemort was quite smart in placing him there. Crouch Junior had an entire year to go through classified information, including details about the Auror force, Muggle-born homes and Ministry ward schemes, to name a few. The biggest leak – and the most dangerous one – is the configuration of the sensor net around Britain and Ireland. We still don't know the extent of the information leak because there is a secrecy oath blocking it, but we hope to get there soon. But we can discuss that later. First, we would like to know what happened the minute you touched the Portkey."

Harry nodded, gripped Daphne's hand tightly, and began explaining what had happened in a monotonous voice. He wondered why Dumbledore's eyes seemed to light up in triumph when he mentioned that Voldemort took his blood for the ritual; as far as he was concerned, that was the biggest disaster of the night. They all remained silent after his speech, while Dumbledore looked thoughtful.

"We might get a better picture of what we're dealing with if we can examine Harry's memory of the event."

"No," said Harry flatly. "I won't be sharing my memory of the event with anyone."

Sirius and Amelia looked at each other worriedly, contemplating on whether they needed to send Harry to a Mind Healer again. Dumbledore simply raised his eyebrows, looking at Harry introspectively. There was something in that memory which Harry did not want him to see; he could sense it.

"There is no information in the memory which is relevant to you. He did not talk about his plans with me but you already have a pretty good idea, I'm sure. There is nothing in that memory that will interest you, sir."

"We've already got people working on it," Amelia took over. "We are monitoring the borders for any incoming giants, but I can already say that we will have no luck with the werewolves. Dementors ... we're still thinking about what to do because right now they're still at Azkaban. Anyway, a press statement was given this morning about Voldemort's resurrection. People are in denial, but it won't be for long. Panic will grip them soon enough and the country will be in turmoil."

"I have contacted the members of the Order of the Phoenix," said Dumbledore quietly. "We will have a meeting soon to see what can be done. The first thing we need to do is find a place to hold our meetings. Hogwarts is not secure; there are too many chances for the information being leaked. What we need is a secure home with established wards which I can put under the Fidelius Charm."

Sirius' eye twitched in annoyance as he did not miss the subtle suggestion behind those words. How he wished he could smack that sanctimonious bastard in the face, but he couldn't! Dumbledore was the Chief Warlock, a post nearly as powerful as his own. Even if he hated Dumbledore and would like nothing more than to throw his wrinkled old arse in Azkaban, he was more useful working for their side. The old man also wanted Voldemort dead. If only they could get their hands on that blasted locket! But Sirius was clear about one thing – this would only be a temporary alliance. After Voldemort and his Death Eaters were gone and done for, he would ensure that somehow, Dumbledore lost his positions one by one. He was not the Minister of Magic for nothing.

He may hate Dumbledore, but right now, Voldemort was a bigger threat.

HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP

Everyone in the Great Hall was reading the Magical Daily in utter silence. The headlines sent shivers down their spine.

LORD VOLDEMORT RETURNS!

Press conference held by Minister of Magic Sirius Black confirms news!

BOY-WHO-LIVED KIDNAPPED AFTER HE WON THE TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT

Triwizard Cup turned into a Portkey to kidnap Harry Potter

HARRY POTTER NEARLY TORTURED TO DEATH!

Reports say that he is recovering at Hogwarts – news of his extensive injuries unconfirmed, but experts speculate multiple exposures to the Cruciatus Curse; cuts on his body suggest he was tortured with a knife and whipped several times!

"Dangerous times ahead – be cautious," warns Lady Amelia Black, Head of the D.M.L.E.

Barty Crouch Senior impersonated by his supposed dead son for a year!

Why did no one detect it?

PANIC GRIPS THE MASSES!

SECURITY AT HOGWARTS TO INCREASE OVER THE SUMMER

Key members of the Ministry and Wizengamot are to be apprehended for being Death Eaters

How much did we screw up at the end of the last war?

LORDS MALFOY, NOTT, AVERY WANTED FOR QUESTIONING

New evidence points to the fact that they may have been willing Death Eaters all along

LUCIUS MALFOY BEHIND THE OPENING OF THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS AT HOGWARTS TWO YEARS AGO

Wanted for questioning regarding the matter

Theodore Nott placed his newspaper down and buried his face in his hands. He had hoped for years that this would never happen. Now there was no escaping his fate. He looked at Blaise Zabini who was giving him a speculative yet knowing look.

"What are you going to do?" asked Blaise.

"Is running away an option?" asked Theo wryly. "Because if I don't, I have only two options in front of me – join him or be killed. Hopefully, Father would tell the Dark Lord that I am not Death Eater material but I doubt it. Like Dylan and Draco, both my father and grandfather were Death Eaters and the Dark Lord would take my refusal as a personal insult."

Blaise hummed in agreement. "You're still too young for him to recruit," he observed. "You're only fifteen, so you still have time. I doubt the Dark Lord would mark anyone who is still at school. Hopefully, by then, he would be defeated."

Theo looked at his best friend incredulously. "Defeated? Did you look at the state Harry was in when he arrived?"

"We don't know what happened there," said Blaise calmly. "You know how talented Harry is, I'm sure he would have put up more of a fight had he not been caught off guard. Either way, there is nothing wrong in hoping for it. You may not be looking forward to serving the Dark Lord, but dear Draco is."

HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP

Harry grunted in pain and exhaustion as he placed his head on Daphne's lap, closing his eyes, enjoying the sensation of her fingers stroking his hair. They were in a compartment in the Hogwarts Express, returning to London. Harry was glad that he had finished his N.E.W.T.s because he would have been too distracted to write his exams now. He tried to sleep, but his body still ached. Opposite to him, Dylan and Astoria were sitting close to each other, speaking in soft tones. Harry's mind drifted back to the conversation he had with Theo this morning. He knew the Slytherin's position would be difficult, but he hoped that he could end the war before his friend would be forced to take the mark. Just as he closed his eyes, the compartment door was rudely yanked open.

"You'll pay for this, Potter," said Draco in a low voice. "You and your bloody godfather can't send Aurors after my father to have him arrested! The Dark Lord is back and he will teach filthy half-bloods like you a lesson. With him in charge, the balance in the world shall soon be restored."

Harry got up slowly and looked at Draco with calm, cold eyes. "Take a seat, cousin," he said quietly.

"Why?" Draco sneered. "Want to negotiate terms for your surrender?"

"Draco, don't act like a child and take a seat, your goons included. I have faced and duelled Voldemort, so you don't scare me."

Draco narrowed his eyes in anger but sat down; Crabbe and Goyle looking clueless but curious. Harry waved his hand and the door sealed shut with a silencing charm in place.

"Yes, the Dark Lord is back," said Harry, crossing his legs gracefully and looked at the three of them with critical eyes. "And we are at a crossroad. Tell me, Draco, why do you hate me? For the first two years, we ignored each other. I was fine with that because quite frankly, I didn't care about you. But then you started annoying Dylan and I don't take kindly to anyone insulting my brother –"

"He's not your brother," said Draco imperiously.

The temperature in the compartment dropped as Harry's emerald orbs darkened. Dylan's grey eyes were hard as he coolly observed the meeting.

"After I threatened you to back off, you wisely did, and yes, it was me," Harry continued, ignoring the gaping face of Draco. "But you started it again after my name came out of the Goblet of Fire. I didn't have a problem with those stupid badges because they were so childish that it wasn't even worth my time. My brother, however, felt differently and so he acted. The end result was your own Head of House punishing you."

Draco gritted his teeth. This conversation was not going the way he wanted.

"You have been raised in a pampered environment, Draco. You have no idea of the real world out there. You have never experienced hardship, pain and hunger like how Dylan and I have. You are excited at the prospect of becoming a Death Eater, but let me tell you right now, Draco, it's not going to be easy. You expect that being a Death Eater would be the greatest achievement of your life, but the fact of the matter is that it would destroy you and your family. Take heed of my advice and stay out of this war and the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy will live to see another day. Don't make a mistake that could get you and your mother killed because this war is going to be brutal."

"Are you saying that I can't handle it?" spat Draco, shaking in anger. "I am capable, Potter, to handle anything! I'm one of the top students in my year! I am not a stupid weakling that got beaten up by a bunch of worthless Muggles like you and your brother. I don't need your advice because I am going to be on the winning side! And the day will come when you realise how great I am!"

"He does not give rewards, cousin," Harry said finally as Draco got up. "He hands out more punishments than rewards. All I am asking is that you think about it. I'm not asking you to join my side, just to distance yourself from me, Dumbledore and Voldemort. If you do, you have a chance to survive this war. If not ..."

Draco glared at Harry as he walked out, slamming the compartment door close as he went. Crabbe and Goyle were giving Harry funny looks as they passed.

"Trying to prevent him from taking the mark?" asked Daphne quietly.

"I tried, but it obviously didn't work. He's not a killer; trust me, I know what I'm talking about. Not everyone can take a life and Draco certainly can't. Yes, he's a smart boy, but Voldemort honestly doesn't care about that. If he becomes a Death Eater, he is doomed to fail. All I can hope is that he does not involve himself in the war personally. I hope he realises the truth before it is too late."

"Draco is not Death Eater material; he's just a pampered little boy who is too confused by the world around him, doing his best to please his parents. If something drastic happens in his life, he'll break into pieces. I've observed that over the past four years and so has Sirius. He sees the world in black and white, which, unfortunately, most others do as well. You can't fault him when Dumbledore and Voldemort are guilty of the same. I was guilty of the same too but I came to realise over the past few years that everything in life is in shades of grey. Draco's life isn't going to be easy now that Voldemort is back. Theo is mature enough to understand what's going on, but Draco hasn't realised it yet."

"And I was actually attracted to him? I must have hit my head on something," muttered Astoria to herself, but Dylan heard it. A small smile formed its way to his lips as he turned towards the window.