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Whispers of a Rising Darkness	By : ymecdyen Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 1398 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Harry Potter and all characters of said universe herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. I make no profit. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
Warnings: Slash, violence, gore, previous character death (Lucius, Narcissa).

A/N: This was written for the hp creatures fest on LJ. The prompter wanted the story based on the film Constantine, with Snape as Midnight. This story is in three parts and I shall update daily. :3

Whispers of a Rising Darkness

The now familiar stench of rotting flesh told Harry he was on the right trail. Wand in hand, he followed the scent off the deserted muggle street into a dark narrow alleyway, careful to keep his back to the wall the way he'd been trained, lest he was ambushed.

He followed the alley to a dead end, hearing the tell-tale crunching and slurping noises early enough to brace himself for when the Inferius came into view. It was a young girl, with long, dark hair that draped over her back in a tangled mess. She was munching on the bloody remains of what appeared to be a cat.

His foot scuffed on the ground and the girl whirled around to face him. Harry winced. She appeared to be no older than six years old, her eyes pale and misted. Patches of her skin were discoloured and hung loose from her frame. A large chunk of flesh was missing from her cheek, revealing the rotting muscles underneath.

Blood dribbled down her chin as she bared her teeth in a silent snarl, her bony fingers flexing eagerly as Harry took a couple of cautious steps towards her. Reaching into his robes pocket, his fingers curled around the small, silver disc that would create a bubble-like ward when activated.

"I am so sorry," Harry apologised, even though he was fairly certain the Inferius couldn't understand him. They were animated corpses, lacking intelligence and any form of a soul. Yet whenever he exterminated them, Harry couldn't help but think of the people they may have once been, and he pitied them.

The Inferius let out a low growl and pounced just as Harry flung the disc at her feet. There was a loud bang as she crashed into the invisible wall, tumbling heavily to the ground in a tangled pile of limbs.

Waving his wand in a complicated motion, Harry began the incantation that would create a fire powerful enough to burn the corpse to a cinder, yet remain confined within the boundaries of the bubble ward.

Using the ward as support, the Inferius got to her feet, running her hands over the edge of the bubble that confined her as though searching for a weak point. She paused, her little hands curling into fists before she began to pound against the invisible wall, determined to break through.

Harry finished the incantation and watched the fire burst to life, running around the inner-edge of the bubble to form a circle. The Inferius hissed and skittered back, her arms raised protectively in front of her face. Harry frowned at the show of panic. Usually, Inferi didn't recognise the threat of the fire until it actually began to burn them, driven solely by the will of the dark wizard that created them.

The Inferius flailed, scuttling to and fro as the flames began to rise and close in around her. She turned to Harry, who froze at the expression of pure terror on her face.

"He...help! P-please!" she garbled, her gurgling voice barely audible over the roar of the fire.

"Impossible." Harry whispered to himself, staring at her in disbelief. Inferi were corpses animated by dark magic, with no will or emotions of their own. They were moving bags of putrid flesh and broken bones, nothing more. Talking like this girl, showing emotion like this girl, just wasn't possible.

"P-please!" She shrieked this time, reaching out for him desperately as the flames began to lick her skin and scorch her flesh. "He-help! Mu-mummy!"

Cursing under his breath, Harry cast a counter-charm that would put the fire out, something he'd never attempted to do before. The flames crackled as they climbed higher, smothering the Inferius' shrill screams as they completely consumed her body. Frantic now, Harry slashed his wand down, cutting through the very heart of the fire. It flickered, almost hesitantly, before the flames dispersed and died, revealing the charred remains of the Inferius girl.

Harry stared at them with a sense of loss for a moment before shaking his head and Vanishing them with a sharp flick of his wand. In the whole three years that he'd been hunting the Inferi, he'd never encountered one that had shown emotion and pain like the girl had.

Picking up the small, silver disc, Harry deactivated the bubble ward. His senses were immediately invaded by the overpowering stench of burnt flesh and ash. Stomach roiling, Harry stumbled, gagging and retching as he lost his breakfast.

Taking a deep rattling breath to steady himself, he eyed the scorched cement with a dark scowl, shakily wiping his mouth clean with the back of his hand. Making sure to clear the alley of any traces of his or the Inferius' presence, Harry apparated directly to the Ministry, determined to get some answers.

They were whispering again.

Draco shivered, curling further beneath his blankets as he covered his hands over his ears. Though it did nothing to block out the voices, the action was comforting. The whispers grew louder, more fervent, the longer he ignored them. A shadow flickered in his peripheral vision and Draco quickly squeezed his eyes shut.

"Ours."

"Take us."

"Ours."

"I can't hear you. I can't hear you," he chanted under his breath.

He could feel the icy breeze caress his skin as they attempted to touch him, tug at him, demand his attention. Draco ignored them, burrowing deeper under his blankets as he began to sing softly to himself; an old wizarding lullaby his mother had favoured when he was a boy.

It took him a moment to realise another voice was echoing his own, lyrical and soft the way his mother's had been. An icy touch brushed his forehead, reminiscent to the way his mother used to smooth back his hair.

"Seek him, Draco. Seek Harry Potter."

Draco's eyes flew open and he bolted upright. The whispers had abruptly ceased and the shadows had vanished, leaving only the chilling memory of his former rival's name echoed in the gentle sound of his dead mothers' voice.

The Ministry was quiet when Harry arrived, most employees having already finished their shifts by then and most likely already at home, enjoying their evening meals with their families. Harry shrugged off the wave of envy at the thought, pressing the button to call for the lift. He'd had his chance to start his own family with Ginny, but gave it up when he became an Unspeakable.

Being an Unspeakable obviously meant that he wasn't allowed to discuss his work with anyone outside his department colleagues. Harry found it hard enough keeping secrets from his best friends, he didn't even want to attempt to try it with a spouse. Besides, the job had meant Harry would work inconsistent hours and rarely spend time at home, which just wouldn't have been fair on Ginny.

The lift doors clattered open and Harry stepped in, pushing the button for level 9. The lift rattled and creaked ominously the way it always did when descending to the Department of Mysteries. Harry suspected it had been designed that way to unnerve any unauthorised persons who wanted to poke their noses into the mysterious department. He simply found the noises bloody annoying. The lift jerked to a halt and the doors slowly slid open, revealing the same dark corridor Harry had led his friends down all those years ago as a naïve teenager determined to save his Godfather.

Grimacing at the unpleasant memory, Harry strode down the narrow hall, heading for the lone door at the end. An ugly looking gargoyle that had the impression of a deformed bird sat before it, blocking his way. The department had stepped up its security since the aforementioned incident when all the prophecies and time-turners had been smashed.

"Password?" it croaked in an old man's voice as he approached.

"Do we have to do this every day, Jex?" Harry asked the gargoyle, annoyed. "Surely you know that I work as an Unspeakable by now? I come past you all the time."

"Jex knows no such thing, Harry Potter," Jex replied, it's beak twisted into a smirk. "All Jex knows is that Harry Potter shall not pass until Harry Potter tells Jex the password."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Harry Potter sucks dick," he sighed.

Jex let out a howl of laughter that reverberated off the walls down the corridor, as though that hadn't been the same password since Jex had been instated as the department's gargoyle three years ago. For some reason Jex always found it hilarious to insult Harry, though he treated the other Unspeakables with a mild tolerance.

"Because Jex likes Harry Potter, that's why," Jex had told him once when Harry had got fed up enough to ask. "Harry Potter is fun, unlike the other stinky humans that pass Jex by."

Jex stepped to one side and let Harry pass into the circular room lined with doors, the gargoyle's chuckles still audible even as the door swung shut behind him. As the lock clicked in place, the walls rotated, leaving Harry unsure of which door it was that he just came through.

Pulling his wand from his robes, Harry drew a complicated fiery rune symbol in the air; the same way Tom Riddle had written his own name in the air back in the Chamber of Secrets in his second year at Hogwarts.

"Abducco nex," Harry said, softly. With a flick of his wand, the rune flew across the room, hitting the door to his far right before crackling out of existence, leaving a black scorch mark in its wake. Harry tucked his wand away, heading for the marked door that led to the department's death chamber.

Inside, the black veil still hung from the stone archway, the voices of the dead whispering quietly from just beyond it. They grew louder as Harry approached the dais, urging him closer, tempting him to step through the tattered curtain and join them. They faltered, as though amazed, when Harry showed absolutely no sign of hesitation and simply strode through the veil like it was any other ordinary doorway.

The ground crunched under Harry's feet as he took his first steps into purgatory, the place between life and whatever waited after death, the realm where demons and other sinister ghouls loved to play. The wind whipped his hair every which-way, the icy bite to it nipping unpleasantly at his exposed skin.

Taking a deep breath and almost choking on the cloying smell of ash, Harry clambered over the rubble tinted red by the low hanging sun, heading for the broken city silhouetted against the horizon.

Every now and then a shadow would flicker in his peripheral vision, vanishing by the time he turned his head. There came the chink of stone being disturbed following by a muffled chittering, but Harry ignored the noise. It was only the sound of minor demons, nothing he had to be concerned with unless they decided to brave their curiosity with him.

He walked past the remnants of what appeared to have once been a large fountain, turning to face his destination; the skeleton remains of a fallen tower. Harry took a step towards it, but whirled around at the loud sound of a rock slide. A series of chittering noises followed, louder than before and seemingly coming from all directions.

Gripping his wand tightly, Harry spun in a slow circle, seeing the flickers of black shadows wherever he looked. Merlin, there had to be at least a hundred of them, and they'd surrounded him. He breathed deeply to calm the rapid pounding of his heart. He hadn't expected this at all, since minor demons were usually too cowardly to approach someone unless... Harry narrowed his eyes, the pieces of the puzzle slowly sliding into place as he thought it through.

Minor demons were cowardly unless in the presence of a major demon. One that knew why Harry had entered purgatory and wanted to stop him from getting the answers he sought. He grinned wryly, a specific demon who may want to interfere with his plans immediately coming to mind.

A rock sliding from a nearby pile drew his attention. A minor demon had gathered up its courage and was crawling slowly towards him on all fours, hissing and chittering as it moved. It had leathery black skin gleaming brown in the red sun, a bulbous head with no eyes and a large mouth with rows of razor sharp teeth. Small bat like wings were folded flat against its arched back, where the bones of its spine bobbed clearly under the skin.

As though urged on by the actions of their kin, other minor demons began to emerge from the rubble, slowly closing in. Harry waited until the first one was about three feet away before he jerked into motion.

"Ferio!" he cast, a white shock of light bursting from his wand tip to blast against the minor demon. It let out a shrieking wail as it hurtled through the air, landing heavily on a distant pile of rubble.

Instead of being scared off by this attack, the approaching minor demons hissed and snarled at Harry, the nearest actually lunging for him. He whirled to one side, stunning it as it flew past. He yelped, falling face-first to the ground as one took him unawares and crashed into his back, its hook-like talons digging painfully into his back as it's sharp teeth snapped through his hair, grazing his scalp.

Harry flipped over, flinging the demon off his back as he kicked away another that tried to leap on him, fumbling for the bubble-ward disc. Another demon grabbed his leg and sunk its teeth deep into his shin. Harry cried out in pain, hissing out another curse that blasted the horrible creature away. With a shout he activated the bubble-ward, several of the demons crashing into the invisible walls as they tried to reach him.

Panting, Harry got to his feet, his leg throbbing in time with his back. He touched his fingers to the back of his skull, grimacing when he drew them away to see the tips coloured crimson. No doubt his back was bleeding as well. He ran a tongue over his lip, surprised to find it had split open. That must have happened when he'd fallen over.

The demons circled around the edge of his bubble-ward like a pack of hungry hyenas, hissing and growling what could only be ugly, dark promises. Harry snarled at them in a reasonable impression of a demon, before picking up the disc and pocketing it. The bubble-ward would hold until Harry deactivated it as long as the disc remained intact.

Turning, Harry limped towards the broken tower. The minor demons followed, snarling in frustration when they realised they couldn't break through the bubble and stop him. Harry smiled in a grim note of satisfaction, slipping through the narrow archway, hidden to one side in the shadows of the tower. The minor demons stopped just before the entrance, unable to follow any further.

Flipping them a sarcastic salute, Harry descended the steep hill before him, carefully sliding down the rocky rubble with a practised edge until he reached a more practical set of stone steps, taking his care in hobbling down.

The difference in temperature was immediately noticeable when Harry finally reached the bottom, rubbing his hands as the sudden warmth made the icy chill the wind had given his skin all the more unbearable.

"Back again, Potter?" came a familiar drawling voice. "If I realised how often I would end up having you as a visitor, I would have reconsidered accepting this job."

Severus Snape sat a few feet away in a dark green velvet chair, a small round table draped in a simple white cloth beside him, a large stack of parchment resting on top. A dark bubbling river ran just behind his chair, disappearing with a gurgle as it entered a large, gaping, dark cavern set off to one far side of the room.

"Hello, Severus," Harry greeted, approaching the former potions master with a cool smile. "How have you been?"

"Adequate, though a far sight better than you it appears," Snape replied, taking in Harry's bloody and dusty appearance. He sat back in his chair, crossing his legs. "Care to explain?"

Taking the unspoken invitation, Harry conjured a chair of his own, identical to Snape's only in Gryffindor red, simply to annoy him. "I had a run in with a horde of minor demons on my way here," Harry explained, wincing as he sat down.

The slow blink Snape gave was the only sign he gave of his surprise. "That's highly unusual," he drawled.

Harry nodded in agreement. "Unless of course, a major demon was riling them up, encouraging them to attack me."

Snape scowled at him. "That is impossible."

"Not everyone sticks to the rules, Severus," Harry replied. "I also believe that the self-same major demon is dabbling in necromancy."

"Now you're being ridiculous, Potter," Snape snapped. "Just because you're unable to find the dark wizards at the source of the Inferi attacks doesn't mean you should resort to making up absurd theories to compensate for your own incompetence."

"It's not ridiculous!" Harry snapped back, quickly losing his temper. "We've been unable to track down the dark wizards that are conjuring the Inferi, which is unbelievable considering how many of them it would take to conjure the amount of Inferi that have been appearing."

"So that immediately brings you to believe that a demon is practising necromancy?" Snape asked, his tone patronising.

"It's more than that!" Harry sat forward, determined to get Snape to listen. "The last Inferius I exterminated showed emotion. She talked like she would have if she had been human."

"Inferi don't have feelings, Potter," Snape explained slowly, as though he thought Harry were a bit slow, which he probably did. "They are corpses animated using the dark arts, nothing more. Even you should have learnt as much over the past three years."

"I'm telling you, this one was scared. She was terrified of the fire I conjured." Harry felt a squirm of guilt at her remembered screams, but shoved it away to mull over later. "Something big is going on, Severus, and the demons are behind it."

"Well, that's a rather strong accusation you're making, Mr. Potter."

Harry jerked to his feet, startled by the unexpected voice. He frowned, taking in the familiar long blond hair and trademark sneer. The pointed ears and leathery wings had been carefully concealed, though Harry knew they were present having seen them once before when the man had first become a major demon after his death.

"Lucius," Harry muttered in reluctant greeting.

Lucius inclined his head to Harry with an amused smirk. "My, my, Potter. You certainly look worse for wear. Life in the realm of the living not treating you well?"

"Actually, I had an unfortunate incident with those minor demons of yours," Harry replied, his tone deceptively light.

"Really?" Lucius said, sounding pleased. "How absolutely delightful!"

Harry drew his wand in a smooth motion as his patience snapped. Lucius rose an amused brow when it was pointed in his direction.

"Enough!" Snape bellowed, slamming his hand against the table top hard enough to jolt the wood. "I won't have you fighting here. This zone is neutral. Potter, put away your wand. Now." Snape ordered.

"The bastard deserves to be hexed into oblivion and you know it, Severus," Harry growled out, keeping his wand levelled at Lucius whom appeared completely unconcerned.

"That doesn't matter here, Potter. You will obey the rules of my house," Snape demanded. "Put away your wand."

Harry hesitated before reluctantly lowering his wand, though he kept it in ready in his hand if Lucius decided to try something. It was enough to appease Snape though, who sat back in his chair with a self-satisfied nod.

"If you'll excuse us, Mr. Potter, Severus and I have a pre-arranged meeting to attend to," Lucius said, settling himself in Harry's previously vacated chair. Harry was half-tempted to Vanish it simply to watch the demon sprawl onto the floor in an undignified heap, but resisted the urge when Snape gave him a quelling look of warning.

Frowning, Harry reluctantly started walking towards the river bank, but paused beside Snape to give a final warning.

"The demons are up to something; I just know that they're the ones behind the Inferi attacks," Harry hissed quietly, though he was sure Lucius could hear him anyway. "You're probably the only one left playing by the rules."

That said, Harry withdrew two golden galleons from his pocket and dropped them on the table before Snape. There was a moments pause before the river water gurgled and parted, revealing a large hole shining with a bright white light.

Harry nodded in parting to Snape, scowled in warning at Lucius before he dived in, falling through the white void and returning to the realm of the living.

Draco shifted nervously in the narrow corridor, the fact that he was standing in the middle of a Muggle building in the middle of Muggle London making him all the more uncomfortable. The voices still whispered to him here, but they were so quiet Draco could barely hear them. Every now and then a shadow would flicker in his peripheral vision, but vanished when he turned to look, something that really wasn't helping his already frazzled nerves.

"Malfoy?"

Draco jerked, though covered it up with the elegance in which he spun around. Potter was seemingly unimpressed by the smooth motion, eyeing Draco suspiciously as he hovered outside the front door to the Saviour's flat.

It had taken a lot of blackmail and a hell of a lot of charm and galleons just to be able to find out which area of London Potter lived in. Luck had been on Draco's side however, managing to find a thin trail of magic that led him to this flat where the amazingly strong wards surrounding the building were covered with Potter's magical signature.

"Potter," Draco greeted with a sharp nod, noting the filthy and rather bloody appearance of the former Gryffindor.

"What are you doing here?" Potter asked, clearly annoyed.

Draco noted the Unspeakable emblem that decorated the lapel of Potter's Ministry standard robes and the way his right hand hovered over his outer pocket where he no doubt kept his wand. Unspeakables where well known for being paranoid and quick to hex. Mix that in with Potter's short temper and Draco decided it best to get straight to the point, or risk being on the wrong end of a nasty curse.

"I need your help," he said, though he made sure his displeasure at the fact was made clear in the way his tone practically dripped with disdain.

Potter's wary gaze became curious and he took a step closer, though his hand still hovered over his pocket, no doubt ready to draw his wand if Draco so much as breathed the wrong way. "Help with what, exactly?"

"I- I don't really know," Draco admitted hesitantly, wincing at the pathetic sound of his own voice. He drew himself up and said in a proud tone more befitting a Malfoy; "But I require your assistance, Potter, in whatever it is."

"R-i-i-i-ght." Potter said slowly, drawing his wand to lower the wards around his flat. "Listen Malfoy, I don't know how you managed to find out where I live or what game it is you're playing, but I've had a really bad day. How about you figure out a more plausible reason to torment me and come back again some time next week when I have the patience to deal with you."

"No, wait!" Draco lunged and grabbed Potter's arm before he could slip into the apartment and raise the wards once more.

The stench of ash invaded Draco's senses, making him gag and choke. Black coated his vision leaving him momentarily blind before it cleared. An icy wind whipped through his hair and bit at his bare skin, raising goosebumps. Potter wore an expression of pure astonishment as Draco turned slowly, his hand still clutching the other wizard's arm, eyes wide as he took in the rubble of a broken city and thick clouds floating above tainted red by the low burning sun.

A dark shadow flickered to his right, and Draco spun to face it fully expecting it to disappear as they always did before. Instead it's form became more tangible, melding into a leathery skinned hideous creature with a mouth full of dripping fangs. The creature snarled in warning before it lunged at him.

Draco stumbled back as Potter moved in front of him as a physical barrier, his wand drawn. Losing his balance on the rubble, Draco tripped and fell to heavily to the ground, releasing Potter's arm as he went. The horrible creature and the broken city vanished in a whirl of colours with the loss of contact, leaving them standing in the narrow corridor outside Potter's flat once more.

"What in Salazar's name was that?" Draco whispered after a moment of stunned silence, still sitting on the floor.

"That was a minor demon," Potter explained, eyeing Draco in wonder. "Just now, how did you-? What just happened?"

"That's what I would like to know!" Draco snapped back. A shadow flickered from just behind Potter and he recoiled, more afraid now since he now knew what lurked beyond the darkness. "Forget it, I've had enough!"

Ignoring Potter's calls for him to wait, Draco fled down the stairs, out of the building and down the street. After running for a few minutes, he found himself longing for his wand so he could apparate home. Draco paused, leaning against the corner of a building as he caught his breath. The Ministry had confiscated it, banning him from using magic for an entire year as his punishment for his part in the war.

Compared to his parents though, Draco had gotten off lightly. His father had been sentenced to life in Azkaban, where his health had deteriorated rapidly before he passed away about three years ago. His mother had been sentenced to house arrest and wasn't even allowed a days reprieve to attend the funeral. Heartbroken from the loss of her husband, Narcissa had passed on recently, having given up the will to live.

"Are you all right, dear?" asked a soft, concerned voice, drawing Draco out from his dark memories.

The speaker was a woman, about a head shorter than Draco. She was garbed in Muggle clothing, the hood of her jacket hiding the majority of her face from sight, though her long curling brown hair spilled out from under it to drape over her chest.

"I'm fine," Draco replied, coldly dismissive. This was the last thing he needed; some annoying Muggle woman poking her nose under the guise of being kindly concerned.

"Really?" the Muggle asked, sounding dubious. "You seem rather pale. Here, let me check your temperature. I'm a doctor."

Even better, a nosy Muggle Healer. Draco rolled his eyes and held still, figuring it would be the quickest way to be rid of her once she ascertained he was in perfect physical health. As the Muggle reached for him, Draco caught a whiff of her scent and instinctively recoiled. She stunk of rotting flesh.

The Muggle paused as though surprised before she let loose a gentle chuckle. "Oh, dear. And the Master assured me that the charms would be strong enough to mask my smell, even from you," she said cryptically, pulling back her hood to reveal the monstrosity beneath.

The entire top half of her skull was completely bare, the white bone cracked and crumbling in places. Patches of yellowing skin covered her lower jaw and neck, peeling at the edges. She only had one clouded glassy eye, a dark gaping hole where the other should have been, something squirming just out of sight towards the back of her skull.

Disgusted and frightened, Draco stumbled back a few steps before quickly spinning on his heel and fleeing. The heavy sound of feet slapping against the pavement behind him announced the Inferius taking pursuit. Draco allowed himself another brief moment to yearn for his absent wand before shoving the thought to one side, pushing his body to move as fast as it was able.

He could hear the Inferius quickly catching up to him. Draco chanced a glance over his shoulder to see her close behind. Unfortunately, that was when his trainer (unreliable Muggle shoe that it was) scuffed against an uneven bit of pavement. Draco stumbled but kept on his feet, though the few seconds loss of pace was all the Inferius needed to catch him.

She darted out a hand, catching him by the shoulder. Draco yelped as she pulled him back, yanking him right off his feet in an amazing show of strength. Her other hand wrapped around his neck as she threw him to the floor, choking him even before he hit the ground.

"Be a good boy and go to sleep for a bit so I can deliver you to my Master," the Inferius said, her voice sickly sweet as she slammed Draco's head into the cement pavement hard enough for him to see stars.

Her grip around his neck tightened and Draco gasped, scrabbling at her hands to try and pry the bony fingers loose. The lack of oxygen burned his lungs, making him dizzy and his vision was beginning to darken around the edges. He bucked, trying to throw the Inferius off but she quickly killed that plan by slamming his head against the pavement again.

"Ferio!"

The Inferius flew off Draco with a loud shriek, hit with a blast of white magic. He sat up, a hand against his sore throat as he coughed and spluttered, gulping down the air gratefully as it returned to his lungs.

Potter stepped protectively in front of him, wand out ready and aimed at the Inferius as she unsteadily got back to her feet.

"I'm surprised you're still alive, Malfoy," Potter said casually, as though he were talking about the weather. "Inferi tend to kill right away. Normally, it would have snapped your neck like a twig that moment it got hold of you."

Hearing this, the Inferius laughed. "I won't kill the boy, my Master needs him alive," she told them, waving her bony hand oddly in the air.

Potter flicked a narrowed glance at Draco, before focusing on the Inferius. "Why? What does Lu- your master- want with Malfoy?"

The Inferius gave a skeletal grin. "He will make the pathway."

"Pathway? To where?" Potter asked, confused as Draco stood up beside him.

"Here, there, everywhere!" the Inferius said, flinging its arms out wide and spinning in a tight circle. "Wherever there is life, death shall rise in glory!"

Tipping her head back, the Inferius let out an inhuman wail, high-pitched and screeching. Draco clapped his hands over his ears to block out the painful noise. His stomach dropped with dread at the answering sound of similar cries coming from all around them. He and Potter turned as one, watching in horror as more Inferi lumbered out from round the corners, slipping out from the nearby alleyways and buildings, even popping up from underneath a drainage grate, until they were surrounded.

Potter shut his eyes with a frustrated sigh, sounding tired of all things. "This is the second time today I've been surrounded," he muttered to himself.

"Don't just stand there, Potter, do something!" Draco demanded as the Inferi crept closer, identical twisted grins on their deformed, rotting faces.

"Yes, your highness," Potter snapped back with a glare.

He let loose a yelp of surprise when Potter slipped an unexpected arm around his waist, pulling Draco close until they were practically chest to chest.

"What in Merlin's name-" Draco started, pulling back a bit from Potter's firm hold.

Potter flashed him a quick sly grin. "Hold on," he warned.

Pointing his wand at their feet, Potter muttered a spell Draco couldn't quite catch under his breath. A blast of yellow magic shot out from the wand tip into the ground, quickly billowing out in a rippling wave, knocking the Inferius over as it passed.

"Different, but it wasn't very effective, Potter," Draco said as the Inferius started getting back to their feet, seemingly unharmed and unhindered by Potter's spell.

"That was just the first wave," Potter informed him, his arm around Draco's waist tightening slightly. "Get ready... now!"

Draco barely had time to clutch onto Potter's robes as a second larger wave exploded from beneath them. This time the magic burst into the air, setting it aflame. The Inferi wailed and shrieked as the flames flew over them, scorching their rotting flesh. Draco instinctively pressed closer to Potter as the fire drew nearer, threatening to burn him.

"Do something Potter, before we die!" he yelled over the loud roar of the flames.

Potter hissed a curse under his breath, the edge of his robes singed by the fire as it drifted closer. Wrapping his arms around Draco's neck, Potter pulled him flush against his chest. Draco's hands instinctively fell to rest on Potter's hips, gripping tightly at the all to familiar unpleasant sensation of side-along apparition. The feeling of being stuffed through a tight rubber tube ended abruptly to the sound of a loud crack.

Curious, Draco pulled back from Potter to see where they'd landed. His vision was immediately assaulted by various tones of red and gold that decorated the numerous items of cheap wooden furniture and coloured the walls. Either this was Potter's flat, Draco decided, or he'd somehow managed to completely bypass the anti-apparition wards that surrounded Hogwarts and apparated them straight into the Gryffindor common room. Though Draco wouldn't put it past the bespectacled git's ability to do so, the lack of young Hogwarts students led him to believe it was Potter's flat.

"You can let go of me any time now, Malfoy," Potter said after a minute, sounding amused.

Draco flushed, realising his hands were still tightly gripping Potter's waist and quickly released him, backing up a few paces to put some space between them.

"I've hunted the Inferi for three years, ever since they first started randomly appearing on the streets," Potter told him, his voice soft. "This is the first time I've ever come across one actively trying to capture someone, rather than just kill them on sight."

Draco shuddered, absently rubbing his throat where he could still fell the cold imprint of the Inferius' bony fingers.

"Why were they after you?" Potter asked, his tone suddenly sharp.

"I don't know!" Draco snapped back, hating that Potter was treating him like a guilty criminal rather than the innocent victim that he was. "Why don't you go ask their 'master' or whatever. He's the one that seems to want me captured."

Potter eyed him for a moment before he spoke again, in a softer tone. "Earlier, when you grabbed me, we somehow ended up in purgatory; the world that lies just beyond the veil. Do you think the reason they want to capture you has anything to do with that?"

Draco shrugged and looked away. "I don't know," he muttered, sullenly.

Giving an annoyed huff, Potter plonked himself down on the red-trimmed sofa. "For someone that came to me for help, you're not being very co-operative."

"I can't help what I don't know!" Draco snapped, before adding in a mumble. "Besides, it wasn't my choice to ask you for help."

"Really?" Potter peered at him curiously. "Whose was it?"

Draco bit the inside of his lip and said nothing. Telling Potter he'd heard his dead mother's voice would earn him a direct trip to the St. Mungo's Janus Thickey ward.

Potter flung his hands in the air in a show of annoyance, getting to his feet and stalking over to a wooden cabinet pushed against the far wall. Various shaped bottles full of alcohol were lined up over the top, along with a couple of crystal brandy glasses.

Draco watched Potter's back as he poured himself a firewhisky, anxiously nibbling his bottom lip. Potter would no doubt get fed up with him soon in his reluctance to give up information, probably enough to refuse any further help and toss Draco out onto the streets, leaving him to the mercy of the Inferi.

"It was my mother," Draco admitted quietly, knowing Potter had heard him from the way he stilled. He hoped he wasn't making a mistake in trusting Potter with this. "I heard her voice saying: 'Seek him, Draco. Seek Harry Potter.'"

"Your mother," Potter repeated, pouring out a second glass. "She died recently, didn't she?"

Draco waited until Potter turned to face him, meeting his gaze head-on so he could clearly read Draco's sincerity. "Yes. She died about three months ago. But it was her voice I heard, I don't doubt that."

Instead of bursting out in laughter or making snide remarks over Draco's questionable sanity, Potter simply grunted. He silently handed Draco a glass of firewhisky before sitting back on the sofa, sipping his own drink with a distant gaze, as though lost in thought.

"You don't think I'm mad?" Draco questioned, nervously tapping the side of his glass with his fingernails. "I just admitted to hearing my dead mother talking to me. Isn't that a bit odd to you?"

Potter's gaze flicked to him and away. "I've heard of stranger things. These past few years, I've learnt to stop dismissing anything that seems odd or weird, simply because I don't understand them or thought they were impossible."

"Besides," he added, leaning forward so his arms rested on his legs, holding his glass just before his mouth. "There's definitely something different about you, Malfoy. How did you manage to transport us to purgatory, even for that short amount of time? As far as I was aware, the only way was through the veil. Even then, only people who have died manage to pass through unharmed."

Hesitantly, Draco took the seat next to Potter. He sipped at his drink, the warm rush of alcohol burning his throat helping to steady his nerves.

"When I was a lot younger, long before I started Hogwarts, I used to see strange things. Things no one else could see," he explained, eyes on the floor. Potter sat beside him in silence, listening. "Shadows flickering in the corner of my eye, strange creatures crossing my path, people that were there when I first looked but when I turned back had vanished. I even heard voices sometimes, telling me I was theirs, begging me to help them, to take them, whatever that meant."

"Voices of the dead," Potter mumbled.

Draco nodded. "Though I didn't realise that at the time, yes. My parents didn't understand what I could see. They were horrified by the thought their son might be mad, or just different. The one time I tried to explain to my mother what I saw, she actually threatened to hit me." He gave a grim smile. "That's the only time in my life mother ever raised her hand to me. It scared me enough that I stopped telling people what I saw. I tried to carry on as a normal wizard boy, ignoring all the strange things I could hear and see. They faded over time as I grew older and then completely disappeared by the time I got to Hogwarts."

"When did you start seeing them again?"

"A few months ago," Draco replied after a moments thought. "Not long after my mother died, I think. I suppose the shock of losing both my parents might have had something to do with it."

Potter hummed a non-committal note, his glass chinking against the wood of the squat coffee table as he set it down. "How did she die? I remember reading about it in the Prophet, but they were strangely vague on the details."

"I don't really know, myself," Draco told him with a shrug, gulping down the last of his drink and setting his glass down beside Potter's. "She never was the same after father died, spending all her time holed up in the Manor library. Her health slowly deteriorated. She was eating less, losing weight and there was nothing I could do to help her. She just gave up in the end, as though life just wasn't worth living any more."

Potter's lips thinned as his jaw tightened, a dark look crossing over his face. Seeing it, Draco asked. "What is it?"

There was a heavy silence as Potter picked up the used glasses and set them back on the counter top. Draco grimaced, hoping Potter washed them regularly after use and he didn't just drink out of a filthy glass.

"Everything just seems too coincidental to not be connected somehow," Potter said eventually, his tone soft.

"Connected?"

Potter turned around, ticking off his fingers as he spoke. "Three years ago, shortly after Lucius died, the Inferi suddenly began appearing everywhere and no-one can locate the dark wizards responsible."

"Please don't tell me you're accusing my father of creating the Inferi from beyond the grave, Potter."

The git just smirked at him before continuing, as though Draco hadn't spoken. "Your mother then starts to get sick, uncharacteristically keeping to herself until she eventually died. Not long after that, your odd abilities return, allowing you to see strange things and hear the voices of the dead. The Inferi then try to capture you rather than just kill you on behalf of their Master, supposedly to 'make the pathway', whatever that is supposed to mean."

Draco frowned. When listed like that, it did all seem rather strange, though he didn't understand Potter's idea on how his father fit in with the Inferi appearances.

"You said Narcissa holed herself up in the Manor library before she died?" Potter asked, though it sounded more like a statement. "Do you have any idea what she was doing in there?"

"It's a library, Potter," Draco drawled. "What does one generally do in the library?"

"Have hot, steamy sex up against the bookshelves?" Potter suggested. Seeing Draco's bewildered expression, he laughed. "I'm joking, Malfoy."

Draco sniffed disdainfully. "I wish you wouldn't mention sex with my mother involved, Potter, even in jest," he said, his nose wrinkling at the very thought.

"I wasn't even thinking of Narcissa at that point," Potter said, his voice soft, silken and laced with a hidden promise.

Draco stared at him as Potter turned away, abruptly breaking the strange tension building between them when he spoke again. "Anyway, I meant, do you know what she was reading in there?"

"I'm not certain. Mother never allowed anyone else within the library, not even the house-elves," Draco replied with a shrug, getting to his feet. "I don't even think they've been in there since she died."

There was a hesitation. "I have a theory, about why Narcissa died the way she did. But I can't say for certain, not until I've investigated a bit more," Potter told him. "To do that, I need access to the Manor library. Will you let me through the wards?"

The Manor's wards had been strengthened shortly after the end of the war, just when the Death Eater trials had begun. No one but those with Malfoy blood were allowed access through them. The one time they'd made an exception for Ministry officials, Lucius had been arrested and taken to Azkaban, and the majority of the Manor's most valuable assets had been seized under the pretence of making reparations for damages caused during the war.

Since Potter worked for the Ministry, he was probably aware of all that. This was a test, to see if Draco was willing to trust Potter and accept his help. Though he was reluctant, Draco believed his mother had good reason to send him to Potter for help, and it wasn't as though he had anyone else to turn to at this point.

"All right," Draco agreed, after a moment. "But take a shower or something first. I'm not side-along apparating with someone who stinks of sweat and blood."

Potter blinked then looked down at his bloody and tattered robes as though only just realising his appearance, giving a sheepish grin in return. "Oh, right. Deal."
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Whispers of a Rising Darkness