Never A Memory

A/N: Again, puh-lease excuse any major typos. I am in the process of correcting them!


“A Pact is made on the Quest for Immortality…
...a God of Darkness relinquishes the Seven Keys…
...a Promise fulfilled in a Pure Womb…
...a Child born to Heal severed Lines…
...a Marking of the Near-Man…
...when the Dark Lord perishes at the Hands of Love half-remembered…
...The Gatherer is hosted and calls in the Night…
...a Sacrifice is laid on the Alter of Justice…
...and Purity wears the Face of Maul…
...Darkness reigns over the Land of Men…
...so be quiet Child…
...for the Black Tulpa fears only the Eighth Key.” ~Chapter 31 "A Secret Prophecy"


~The Sword of Godric Gryffindor~

After waving the wards he constructed to safegaurd his flat in London, Harry unlocked the front door and stepped inside. Harry closed the door behind him and reconstructed the wards with a flick of his wand. Afterwards, Harry slid his robes off of his shoulders and tossed them over a nearby chair, kicking off his shoes. Unbuttoning his shirt, Harry made his way down the main hall.

It was a simple enough flat with one bedroom, one bathroom that had a small plumbing issue Harry had yet to figure out, a living space and a kitchen. Sparse funiture--a couch, a chest of drawers, and a bed. Oh, and a lamp. The fridge had a variety of condiments in it, but not much else. Harry felt uncomfortable with too many possessions. He'd never really had many, so he opted to get by with just what he needed and not much more. So, that included clothes, of course, his collection of brooms, his things from Hogwarts, a single Gryffindor banner, a framed picture of his parents, a photo album, and many, many books. Harry had only read a few of them, but Hermione kept buying him more.

Harry finished unbuttoning his shirt and took it off, tossing it to one corner. He paused before the bedroom and decided against going in. Harry turned back and headed into the living room, running a hand through his hair and sighing. Cruent had always said he thought Harry lived like a pauper when he didn't need to. Ron and Hermione always had a guest room available for Harry in their flat if he wanted to sleep there; and this he had done on times too numerous to count. As much as Harry wanted to be alone, he didn't really like it. Harry collapsed onto his couch, moving only to empty his pants pocket of his wand.

And what was more, Harry felt strange, falling asleep alone when he had become so used to sleeping in the cradle of Draco Malfoy's arms.

Harry kept his wand clutched in his hand as he drifted into oblivion.

~*~

When he awoke, the day was shadowy with the impending sunset. Harry sat up and rubbed his eyes, blinking away the remaining drowsiness. He was hungry.

On a whim, Harry called for Slightly and was surprised when she popped in the room. Slightly's large watery eyes looked around the strange room as she approached Harry timidly. "Master's Harry Potter called, sir. Master told Slightly to always answer to Mr. Harry Potter. Whatever Mr. Harry Potter needs, Slightly will get for you, sir."

Something tightened in Harry's chest. "Thank you, Slightly. I didn't know you would come here."

Slightly looked at him strangely. "Then why did Harry Potter call Slightly, if he didn't think Slightly would come, sir?"

Harry smiled a little. "I don't know."

Slightly fidgeted with the hem of the sack she wore. "Did Harry Potter need something in particular?"

Harry nodded. "I am hungry, Slightly."

Slightly bowed and disappeared. Moments later, she returned with a large steaming bowl of stew. Harry accepted it gratefully and Slightly watched him eat. "How did you make this so quickly?" Harry asked between mouthfuls.

Slightly shrugged. "I always make the meals for Master and Master's Harry Potter in case they are hungry. It is good that I do. Then Master's Harry Potter will not go hungry. Where is Master? He has not called Slightly for supper."

Harry lowered the bowl. "Draco's at the Ministry of Magic."

Slightly's shoulders slumped. "Oh."

Harry finished what he could of the stew and put the bowl aside. "Thank you, Slightly."

Slightly bobbed her head but did not pop away. "With Harry Potter's permission, can Slightly tidy up here?"

Harry looked around his flat. Dishes were piled high in the sink, clothes were strewn everywhere, and everything had a layer of dust on it. Harry nodded. "Couldn't hurt."

"Slightly thanks Master's Harry Potter."

As Slightly scurried off, Harry took his wand and used it to transfigure a wall in his living room into a chalkboard.

"Alright," Harry murmured, taking a piece of chalk and began to write with it.

~*~

At the Ministry of Magic...
***

Ron stood before the room full of people he had assembled, feeling somewhat sick but resolved to get this over with anyway.

"Analyze and interpret," Ron said, beginning to write on the board behind him. "The Prophecy may hold the secret to killing the Black Tulpa. Those of you assembled all understand what's at stake here?"

Two dozen heads nodded. Ron met Hermione's gaze, her confidence in him giving him strength. Snape was there too, a surly presence in the room. Hermione assured Ron that the potion was brewing and they could be excused to attend the briefing. Anin and Mackle were there and so were every Auror that had been involved in the Wisconsin accident. Heroth and Gasse were there with Lanel, Bishop, and all the other Veterans that had been re-assigned to guarding Malfoy, minus the four that were watching him at the present time. The Minister was there with his secretary, a sweet face girl by the name of Mary Heart. Two others were present from Muggle Affairs, Trisha Knockwood and Sam Little. Blaise was already gone and no one attempted to locate him. The air in the room was stifling, and Ron pulled at his collar.

"Good," Ron said. "Let's go through this piece by piece..."

~*~

Harry's Flat...
***

"'A Pact is made on the Quest for Immortality…a God of Darkness relinquishes the Seven Keys…a Promise fulfilled in a Pure Womb…'," Harry murmured as he wrote. "Now known to be the agreement between Voldemort and Maul. Voldemort supplies the Host and Maul supplies the Seven Keys. Horcruxes. Voldemort fails and Draco survives, but is unconscious for three years. During which time a warrant is discovered, offering obscene sums of money for the murder of Draco Malfoy..."

~*~

Ministry of Magic...
***

"'...a Promise fulfilled in a Pure Womb...a Child born to Heal severed Lines…'," Ron quoted as he scribbled on the board at the front of the room. "Again, seemingly obvious--"

"Narcissa Malfoy married in from the Black blood-line," Severus Snape murmured. "She was considered 'pure' by default. Her unioun with Lucius Malfoy was supposed to 'purify' the Malfoy line with their heir."

"So, Draco Malfoy is the Promise fulfilled in Narcissa's womb," Anin said.

"And he is the 'child born to heal severed lines', right," Ron agreed, continuing to write quickly on the board.

~*~

Harry's Flat...
***

"'...a Marking of the Near-Man…'," Harry murmured. Harry remembered the vision in Draco's Pensieve of the young Slytherin trying to carve the Dark Mark out of his arm in the presence of Moaning Myrtle. And then the cold, stone room where Lucius Malfoy stood by as Voldemort re-marked his son in the center of his spine, Draco's screams crashing against their ears. "The Dark Mark on Draco's spine..."

~*~

Ministry of Magic...
***

"'…when the Dark Lord perishes at the Hands of Love half-remembered…The Gatherer is hosted and calls in the Night…'," Ron quoted. "This one seems obvious, but I don't think so."

"It kinda insinuates that the Gatherer wasn't 'hosted' until Voldemort was vanquished," Sam Little mused.

"I'm still wondering what the Prophecy meant in terms of 'hosting' the Gatherer," Mackle said, crossing his legs. "Later, when it speaks of 'the Host', its emphasized runicly because it pertains directly to Maul; so it's clear that they are two different people. My question is: is it the same kind of possession?"

"It's never really clear that there is a seperate entity to possess the Gatherer, or if 'the Gatherer' is that entity and it possesses some chosen mortal," Trisha Knockwood agreed.

"What do we know of Cruent Mantle?" the Minister inquired.

"Graduated our year from Hufflepuff," Hermione said, resting her chin in her hands; and was silently grateful that Harry wasn't here to listen to this. For him, the death of Cruent Mantle must still be too near. "He worked as a Librarian in Diagon Alley. Became Harry's lover a year after the Eve War concluded...and they seperated some months later. I'd say about six months before Draco Malfoy woke up in St. Mungo's."

"Cruent attempted to speak to Harry at The Mild Brew before Draco suffered the Inversion Enchantratem in Wisconsin," Ron said abruptly. "Do you remember that?"

Hermion lifted her head. "That's right. That was after...after Harry found the Pensieve and spoke to the Parkinson's."

"Regardless of what you think all of this might mean," Snape said with a roll of his eyes. "That young man was the Gatherer since the end of the Eve War. For three years at least. And now he is dead."

Everyone was silent for a moment. Then Mackle spoke. "So you think that Cruent Mantle was possessed by the spirirt of the Gatherer or was the Gatherer?"

"I think it doesn't bloody matter," Snape replied with a sneer.

Mackle sat back. "Perhaps your godson would think differently."

"Do not presume to think you know what my godson would or would not think," Snape said heatedly.

Ron pulled at his collar again. This was going no where. "Alright, alright; listen up. I think the most important thing to analyze here is what the Prophecy meant by 'Hands of Love half-remembered'."

Again, the room fell silent.

Then, for the first time that evening, Mary Heart spoke up, her voice soft and lilting. "I read in the file that when Mr. Potter found Mr. Malfoy's Pensieve, there was a very vivid memory therein of Narcissa's funeral. And then later, when Mr. Malfoy fought You-Know-Who, he made it clear that he was taking revenge for his mother's murder--"

"That's a good point, Ms. Heart," Grasse interjected softly. "However, Malfoy would not have been returned to us if his actions were spurned completely by vengence."

Mary Heart smiled. "Yes, Grasse; that's true. Though I think that revenge was what was in Mr. Malfoy's head but love was what was in Mr. Malfoy's heart. Love for his mother."

"Why would it be 'half-remembered'?" someone asked.

Mary thought for moment but it was Snape who answered. "Draco was bred into a world of conspiring Death Eaters. 'Love' is a natural emotion for humans, Muggles and Wizards alike; however, in the circles Draco was born into, it is something that is smothered--or, rather--it is replaced by other things. Namely: Purpose, duty, and responsibility. In his heart, I believe Draco does love his mother. In his mind, though, I think he may not comprehend it fully as a feeling. Or, at least, may not have at that time. And, therefore, 'Love half-remembered'."

Hermione suddenly looked uncomfortable, but said nothing.

Mary nodded and smiled sweetly, her large eyes misting with the romance of it all. "So, Mr. Malfoy's love for his mother saved him like Lily Potter's love for her infant saved Harry Potter."

~*~

Harry's Flat...
***

"'…The Gatherer is hosted and calls in the Night…'" Harry paused, but the only thing he wrote next to that quote was a few notes on the Song of Summoning.

"'…a Sacrifice is laid on the Alter of Justice…and Purity wears the Face of Maul…'" Harry rubbed at his face, smearing white chalk along his cheek. The second vese seemed obvious; but the first?

A sacrifice.

One could say that Draco sacrificed his freedom to come to the Ministry of Magic and be subjected to its law. But somehow Harry thought it may have more to do with Draco virtually having to sacrifice his soul to be fully possessed by the Black Tulpa. Since that didn't happen--or, at least, hasn't happened 'yet'--the prophetic juxtposition could be the so-called 'wrench-in-the-engine'.

But 'Alter of Justice'?

How woud it make sense that the ridding of Draco's soul could be laid on the 'Alter of Justice'?

~*~

Ministry of Magic...
***

"Personally, I think 'Justice' could be in reference to Potter," Scrimgeour said aloud.

Surprised, every head turned to the Minister of Magic.

"How?" Snape asked, his nostrils flaring.

"Well, the Prophecy concerning Harry Potter and You-Know-Who made it pretty obvious that it was one that would defeat the other. When it was Malfoy who finally destroyed You-Know-Who, it may be justified to say that the one archnemisis of Maul would--and should--be Harry Potter."

"That's completely ridiculous," Snape muttered.

"But if that were the case, if Malfoy had said surrendered to the Gatherer, Harry would have had to destroy him," Ron said.

Every head turned to him.

Ron look suddenly embarassed. "Well, Harry asked me not to mention it if it wasn't neccessary...but Malfoy had forced him to swear an Unbreakable Vow to destroy him if he harmed anyone. I think this was when he was starting to realize this Prophecy was dangerous and that it could mean he would be dangerous also."

Scrimgeour sat back in his seat. "So, Potter would have been, literally, forced to battle Malfoy had he been possesed by Maul. I wonder why Potter didn't want us to know that."

Hermione again seemed uncomfortable but it was Ron who offered an answer. "Well, I think it is pretty obvious that, for whatever reason, Harry wants Malfoy to survive this."

"That could definitely be said," Heroth murmured, remembering how Harry had acted that morning in Cell Block C after seeing Malfoy's condition. Murmurs of agreement sounded around the room. They had all seen Harry Potter's strange behaviour with the Malfoy Case. Most assumed it was because Draco Malfoy had once saved his life. Only a few knew that that had only embittered the Boy-Who-Lived, believing the vanquishing of Lord Voldemort had been owed to him.

"Perhaps it has more to do with Potter wanting to avoid being personally responsible for the death of the man who once saved his life," Snape sneered under his breath.

Ron became angry and slammed his fist on the nearest hard surface, which took a considerable amount of time to locate. "Harry Potter is no coward and I will hear no implications that suggest otherwise."

Scrimgeour rubbed his double-chin. "On the contrary, Snape, Potter seems to genuinely care for the welfare of Draco Malfoy, despite his numerous blunders. He damn near committed treason in my office this morning, trying to prevent Malfoy from being sent to Azkaban. You saw. Malfoy had to talk him out of acting rashly."

Snape looked away. Hermione fidgeted. "I think we should take a look at the next verse," Hermione said.

~*~

Harry's Flat...
***

"…Darkness reigns over the Land of Men…so be quiet Child…for the Black Tulpa fears only the Eighth Key."

Harry said it aloud over and over again, pacing in his living room. Nothing was popping into his mind. Hours passed and still Harry could not figure out what the Eighth Key could be.

If the Seven Keys were Horcruxes, then was the Eighth a Horcrux as well?

That seemed impossible. Horcruxes had pieces of Voldemort's soul trapped in them. It was in destroying them that the Dark Lord was destroyed. How could something so evil kill something so evil?

There was a big gaping hole in the puzzle that never seemed piece together.

At some point, Slightly brought him a cup of tea and ushered him to bed. Harry spent hours on end staring at the ceiling, watching the shadows chase one another. Around three in the morning--the witching hour--his ghost-scar tingled and burned and Harry was tempted to go to the Ministry to check on Draco. But Harry knew Ron would have his ass in a sling if he did. So he watched the shadows and tried to ignore the burning on his forehead.

The Eighth Key. The Eighth Key. The Eighth Key.

Finally, the first rays of the sun peaked over the Eastern horizon. The second the night outside began to turn gray, Harry jumped out of his bed and began dressing. Sipping the coffee Slightly made for him, Harry stared at the chalkboard, reviewing all the notes he had scribbled on it.

Suddenly, a thought hit him.

The only House in Hogwarts whose relic Voldemort did not turn into a Horcrux was Gryffindor. In fact, the Sword of Godric Gryffindor had been powerful enough to destroy a Horcrux. So what if...

What if...

~*~

The Ministry of Magic...
***

Harry Potter all but collided into Ronald Weasley in the Auror's Division. Breathless, Harry gripped Ron's arm, green eyes somewhat wild with hope. "The Sword of Godric Gryffindor! If it was powerful and good enough to destroy Horcruxes--the other Seven Keys--what if it isn't that the Eighth Key is the weapon that would kill Maul but that Draco IS the Eighth Key and that the scar is weak to the power of the Sword of Godric Gryffindor? What if Draco IS the Eighth Key, Ron?! What if Maul fears his own Host because we already know how to destroy Horcruxes?! What if we could kill this thing with the sword?!"

Ron nodded, bleary-eyed but smiling. "Or with the venom of a Basilisk. Yes, Harry, we thought so too. I thought you were going to rest."

Harry looked around the room, thinking as quickly as he could. "Is he safe? They haven't--"

"No," Ron said, placing a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "We decided to wait for you. Harry, when Draco was under the Inversion Enchantratem, did the scar disappear?"

Harry's entire demeanor fell and he looked crestfallen. "No. Ah, Merlin, no. It was our connection through the scar that brought him out of it." Harry began to shake and he sat in the nearest chair, putting his head in his hands.

"Harry," Ron said gently. "That can mean that Maul is not actually connected to the Eighth Key and destroying it wouldn't effect him at all; it would just--"

"It would kill Draco."

"Yes."

"Ron," Harry said, his voice a deathly whisper. "If that gets out, I swear--"

"No one in that room wanted Malfoy dead," Ron said firmly. "But I think we ought to concentrate on why Maul fears the Horcrux Scar."

Harry bit his lip, thinking.

"We decided that we think it's because the Horcrux Scar is connected to you and that you are the Alter of Justice," Ron murmured.

Harry's beryl eyes widened in disbelief. "That's ridiculous."

"Snape said as much," Ron affirmed with a grin. "But here's what Scrimgeour thought..." And Ron made good time explaining the Minister's reasoning. Harry rested his chin in his hand as he listened, his mind growing quiet. He was beginning to really, and truly, hate Prophecies.

"We think," Ron continued, "that if you go into Malfoy's sphere's of magic, like you did before, you could face Maul. Whether or not you beat him would be up to you, but we think that it could be done if we sent you in there."

Harry shook his head. "That still doesn't explain why Maul fears the Eighth Key. Why would he fear our connection through the Horcrux Scar?"

Ron drew in a deep breath. "Hermione has a theory, but she won't tell anyone but you."

"Fine," Harry said, standing. "Where is she?"

"Muggle Affairs. Harry, wait!"

"What?"

"I think you're right about one thing, though," Ron said. "If the Sword of Godric Gryffindor could destroy Voldemort, it could definitely hurt Maul. Horcruxes are a magic that Maul himself lorded over."

"Then I'll go in with the Sword."

"That goblin has it."

Harry paused. "Oh, right. I guess we'll have to go get it from him."

Ron hated that particular goblin almost as much as he hated Severus Snape. "Right."

Harry turned to go find Hermione.

~*~

"You're sleeping with him!" Hermione accused with a hiss between her teeth. She had just pulled Harry into the privacy of the filing room of Muggle Affairs.

"'Mione--"

"Don't you lie to me, Harry James Potter. You know I can tell."

Harry sighed. How the bloody hell did she figure that out? "Hermione, it wasn't like I--"

"OH MY GOD!"

"Hermione--"

"MERLIN, ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?"

"Lower your voice--"

"ARE YOU COMPLETELY DAFT?!"

"Hermione!"

"Harry!"

"I didn't plan for it to happen, Hermione," Harry protested. "It just--"

"You know better than that," Hermione interrupted. "He's your client, Harry. Not to mention it's DRACO MALFOY--but that's not the point. If this got out, it would be the end of your career as an Auror. Do you realize that?"

"Yes, actually," Harry retorted, beginning to get angry. "I am completely aware. So would you please--"

"Do you realize how this could effect the case?"

"I've thought about that and--"

"You can't stop, Harry."

Harry froze. "What?"

"Do you love him?"

Flustered, Harry raised his hands. "What?!"

"Do you love him?"

"I don't...I don't know, Hermione. I just--"

"Well, you should think long and hard about that, Harry, because if you do, it's the one that could save Malfoy's ass."

All the air in Harry's lungs seemed to dissapate.

"Which is why I'll keep my mouth shut," Hermione concluded. "The darkest curse the Wizarding World knows is the Killing Curse and if the ancient magic of love can deflect it and cause someone to be brought back to life--which we've seen twice concerning that Horcrux Scar--than it certainly can protect the two of you when you face Maul." Hermione paused. "And it may be the only thing that will protect you."

~*~