Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Principle of Sympathy	By : heerayni Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 5831 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not Own any part or character from The Harry Potter series, Or The Master of Magics Trilogy, They belong to J.k. Rowling and Lyndon Hardy, i make no money from this.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Author's note:

A special Thanks for Delia Cerrano and Unneeded who took the time to review this story!

For, Delia, The courting might take a while yet, but it will happen. And i am hoping it will sizzle as much in words as it is in my mind. The first touch happens though in this chapter so watch out!:D I love Teddy too btw! he is just too sweet and smart and cute!

For those who don't know:

Necromancy, is a form of magic which claims to communicate and bring forwards the dead. A necromancer is the one who performs such magic. A master Necromancer has the power to bring back people from the dead and meddle in the matters of the underworld. J.K. Rowling in Harry Potter universe dismisses Necromancy as a joke and an absolutely useless branch of Magic. Well. As this is a fanfic. I get to play with the discarded toys.

Chapter 7. Becoming a Malfoy.

Qasd-e jafâ'hâ nakunî!var be-kuni bâ del-e man

Vâ del-e man! vâ del-e man! vâ del-e man! vâ del-e man!

([I hope] you do not intend to be unkind to my heart, for if you do

Woe unto my heart! woe unto my heart! woe unto my heart! woe unto my heart!)

"Harry?" the low and small voice of Hermione's called him out of his terrible thoughts and he noticed for the first time, how actually cold he was. A warm robe was placed upon his shoulders for which he was silently thankful. He did not look up from his huddled position though.

"What are you thinking about?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know Hermione. I don't know what I should be thinking about. Should I be thinking about Remus? Tonks? Snape? Dumbledore? Should I be thinking about Fred? What do you think about? What do you do with all that needs to be thought about but you are just too exhausted to do it? What do you think about once the dust is settled and the war that had dominated most of your life is over? It's like this hollow space has made home inside my chest since I have come back. It's like an invisible string attached to me that is tangling me and tying me down invisibly with every breath I take. It hurts Hermione, and I know I have lost so much, but what hurts most is something unknown that I have lost but have no idea what it was? How do you deal with that? How do you cope?" he asks pleadingly.

"Harry, there is only one way to deal or cope with the aftermath of the war, it is to start a new one and make sure you do all the things necessary to prevent all the things that led to the last war."

Harry looked up at his best friends with skeptical eyes.

"I have had enough of fighting, Hermione. I don't think I have it in me anymore. But the fact of the matter is, this peace, is too scary for me as well. It has no purpose, it has no meaning, and too many people have spent their lives on me for it to not have a meaning. It has got to make a difference Hermione, But I don't think war is the right way."

"War is the only way my friend. This war that we will be fighting now is going to be the real war Harry and it's inevitable. It will come knocking on your door first and foremost. This would be a war against the prejudices and ignorance that led to the previous war. Because Harry, the war that just passed was not a war against people or a mad man, it was a war against an ideology. That ideology is the real enemy we need to disarm. We need to bridge the gaps in the wizarding society. We can't deny the importance and presence of Pure-bloods just as we can't outcast the Muggle-borns and Half-bloods. We need to take measures. The ministry is vulnerable right now. They need funds, funds that Pure-bloods have, and Harry, trust me, there is not just two classes in the wizarding world. There is not just the good people and the death eaters. The majority of the pure-blood families sat out the war. And now when the ministry is still too low in man power to enforce any laws and in dire need of funds, they are going to pitch in their galleons and influence too much. So we need to come up with a counter strategy. We need establish influence Harry, the influence only you have the ability to yield rightly, because you are the only person I know that power failed to corrupt even when you were a mere eleven-year old. That is where your true ability lies Harry, it has never been skill or recklessness, it has always been your incorruptibility. And that will be the winning card in the real war. The one that we will fight in ministry corridors and overtly pretentious parlors of sad old ladies with too many Galleons and not enough occupation to keep them from being just too meddlesome."

"You want me to become a politician?" Harry asks his best friend, the bewildered expression on his face was an indicator of how deeply Hermione's pitch had just disturbed him.

"No, I don't want you to become a politician Harry, I just want you to become Harry Potter, Auror Potter, who yields enough power and influence to leave no spot for anyone else. Its time you stop being the Boy-who-lived-without-doing-anything, and start being the Man-who-won-the-war-and-saved-all-our-arses."

"I had a lot of help doing that you know." Harry nudges his petit bushy-haired friend playfully as he tried to step out of the gloom for the first time that day.

"Yes Harry, and you still will. I will stand by you until the end of time, you know that. Have I ever lead you astray?"

"I hear what you are saying Hermione and I will do it, you know I will, but, I just need some time to get my act together."

"You do Harry, You need to make peace with yourself. You need to come to terms with life. You need to make your own home and you need to take care of Teddy." Hermione said solemnly.

A few months later Hermione came bursting into the room he and Ron shared at the Burrow, they were back at the burrow for the first weekend break from their Auror training. Tired and knackered beyond belief, both boys were lounging about discussing their favorite and safest topic. Quidditch. Especially since they were not recovered enough to go out and play.

"Merlin Mione! What is it?" Ron scowled at his Girlfriend.

"I can't believe this. This is ridiculously brilliant! Why did I not see it before?" She said as she paced down the small room at the foot of their beds.

"Hermione! Calm down! What are you talking about? What is going on?" Harry lounged back against the headboard of his bed again. knowing that Hermione was about to go into a tirade or gushing about one thing or the other.

"What is going on? What is going on is that the ministry has decided to re-establish the old Houses Harry! For the sake of funding of course…" She'd started passionately enough, but had fizzled back into intense contemplation again by the end of the sentence. Which always annoyed Harry.

"What in the world does Re-establishing the old houses means?" Asked Ron. Looking just as annoyed as Harry.

"It means dividing all positions of influence and administration at the ministry not by the ability to work in that position but by fixing a quota according to blood status."

Ron and Harry exchanged a look wondering if Hermione had finally lost it. How could she be happy about something like that? Hermione was a stern believer in all things fair, equal and true ability.

"I don't see how that is a good thing Hermione…did we not fight the bloody war against the same thing? Fixed quota? That is ridiculous Hermione!" Harry frowned at his pacing best friend, still unable to catch the metaphorical lead.

"Argh! Don't you see Harry? This is the only way the pure-bloods would even come to the negotiation table…This is the only way there is a slightest chance to make some real changes. We give them the old houses back, they give in to the ministry regulation and amendment in the education system, Muggle studies can be made compulsory for all Pure-bloods and Wizard tradition studies can be made compulsory for all muggleborns. No one loses anything. The main problem itself was showing them the bone right? If we can insure them a quota for purebloods in jobs and opportunities and all, don't we get to ensure muggleborns of a quota as well? Where in the past the practice was biased, we can actually equalize it this time around. It might seem offensive at the face value, but if we use it just right, everyone gets what they want!"

"Ok! But don't be offended or something, but for the love of Merlin, please tell me what old houses are exactly?" harry asked warily waiting for fireworks.

Hermione looked at him sharply for a second in deep contemplation and then her eyes widened the way they do when she just stumbles on to a big realization. I sit up straighter at the action. Ron notices it too.

"OH! But of course! Oh Yes! Oh yes! Oh my God I am so so stupid Harry!" she exclaimed, her eyes shining in her face in a crazy happy way.

"WHAT HERMIONE?"

"You Harry! You! Always has to be you! Solution of every problem! You are the sole heir to the house of Black by nomination! And the house of Potter by blood! AND on top of that you are the frigging savior of the wizarding world Harry! Oh Lord Merlin! This cannot get any perfect!" Hermione squealed as she jumped up on to Harry's bed and took hold of Harry's shoulder and started shaking it.

"What are you on about?" Harry was beyond confused.

"Ahh! I guess it was too much for you to pay attention to your studies for once?" she frowned at her best friend and boyfriend. Before she settled down and her face morphed into an expression Harry labeled as 'Hermione the encyclopedia mode'.

"The Old houses are the houses that were established after the rule of Merlin himself Harry. He appointed the wizards in his cabinet as nobility. Declaring their magic as the purest and most potent. We covered this in the Third year history of Magic! Peverells, Ollivanders, Agrippas, Cliodnes and a few more that are lost now. Peverells and Cliodnes were the most powerful of them. In the rule of the queen Elizabeth, due to the massacre her elder sister had inflicted, she gave a lot of lee way to the wizarding world and gave them a place in her court as well. Establishing their direct descendants as Nobility recognized in the muggle and wizarding world both. But the turn of the century and the death of the Queen, the statute of secrecy was invoked again and the wizarding nobility though went undercover again were compensated with wealth and a certain status."

"The Potter family line and the Weasley family line is direct descendents from Ignotus Peverell, while Gaunts were direct descendants of Cadmus Peverell, While Malfoys are descendants of both Ignotus and Cadmus just like the Blacks are descendants of Antioch Peverell and the Irish Druidess Cliodne and so on and so forth. But that's beside the point. To this day. These houses hold an indomitable status between pure-bloods for the sheer amount of powerful wizards that have belonged to these houses even if you do not take into account the wealth. And you Harry my friend are the cherry on the Top. You are a direct descendant of the noble house of Potter, and like we all know, Sirius nominated you the Master of the Grimmauld place and the black vault. You will be considered a descendant of the house of Black as well."

"So…." Harry was still confused.

"So… if the Old houses, as in old nobility titles are re-established, we will soon be calling you 'Lord Potter-black..which let me guess" Hermione puffed her face in mock concentration, as her eyes shined more, and started to count off on her fingers

"…Puts you on top of the pure-blood aristocracy chain…Just beside…The Malfoys"… Gives you a natural seat at Hogwart's Board of Governors and a seat at the Wizengamot. Not to forget that you are already established as the most powerful wizard of this age and also savior of the wizarding world!" Harry just looked at her as if he had been stupefied. Hermione turned around to look at Ron to find him gaping at her as well.

"Boys!" Hermione groaned as she fell back lying across Harry's bed and started to laugh happily, as it seemed that things were finally going to look up and some real greater good could be done.

Harry was not too sure, but to see Hermione laugh like that after so long, Harry knew he was ready to do anything she required of him, even if he did not exactly understand what it was, as long as the hope and happiness remained on Hermione's face. All was going to be well.

It still did nothing for that void in his heart.

"Push Harry! Faster!" Teddy whoops as I shove the tire swing lightly, absently, my eyes fixed across the garden at the stone patio where the Lord of liars sits so casually conversing quietly with his aunt who is one of my few true friends. He is not looking towards me on purpose and I know it. I still keep a close watch.

"HARRY! PUSH HARDER!" yells Teddy making me look away from the reason of my annoyance.

"Teddy, you will fly off if I push you any harder cub! And I don't have my broom to go catch you like a snitch if you do!" I say giving a hard enough push to Teddy's delight.

"I WILL NOT FLY OFF! I am big and snitch is tiny! If I fly off, I'll be a crazy flyer! Like a Bludger!" Teddy chants, his face pink with exhilaration black hair almost similar to mine flying everywhere, but he is too excited and out of control to keep his eyes imitating the color of mine, so they are his natural hazel at the moment, like Remus'. My heart swells with affection for this little bundle of joy and sadness. How beautiful his life could have been had his parents survived. Remus all sedateness and authority, Tonks all cheers and mischief. Teddy is the combination of two extremely opposite people who were a match made in heaven. I know Andromeda does the best for Teddy. She is strong enough to raise him without most insecurity which I had been subjected to in multiplication in the home of Dursleys. No, My Teddy will one day be a wonderful, strong yet sensitive man. All because of Andromeda.

"Harry, Teddy…come along both of you, it's time for tea." I hear Andromeda calling us. I pull Teddy to a stop as he swings back towards me. He wriggles in my arms as I extract him from the rubber tire.

"Awww! Harry! Two more minutes! Please! Please!" he pleads. Like always.

"Oh no… Look! Grandma is spreading tasty, sweet, whipped, creamy, white, cream on the butter scones…Oh my! Is she opening the JAM bottle?" The boy has gone still in my arms around his waist, I can literally feel his pupils dilating at the commentary of the sweet scones. It always works. My cub has an insatiable sweet-tooth and is denied sweets most of the time because he goes hyper-active on sugar in minutes. He is now wriggling again, trying to get out of my arms now to get to the patio and the scones. I let him go chuckling at his antics. Following him at a more humane pace.

The day light is receding now and the shadows that fall in patches on the garden are beautiful. I have always loved this rustic little cottage. It's so quaint that it hurts. Not crazy lovely like the Burrow just, cozy and sweet. And this time of the day, when the setting sun hits the garden just right, the lazy brightness of this beautiful place increases tenfold. I look up smiling inwardly at the bliss of the place. Something warm and tickling finds my way again. Cheerfully I look up at the patio again and notice for the first time perhaps how striking Malfoy really is.

He has always been striking in looks, with the pointed face and silver blond hair and those silver grey eyes. It's hard to not notice, you could easily tell him in a crowd.

To tell the truth, I am getting rather tired of getting gob smacked every time he is or his reference is made in my vicinity. I mean, today, I was not just startled with this sudden encounter but more with how he was dressed in muggle clothes. He jolts my axis without even trying.

He lounges lazily on the rickety garden chair his jumper the lightest shade of Mint green possible, glowing against his skin in the afternoon light, an ankle locked on the knee clad in light and fit butter soft jeans somewhat with silver grey dragon-hide boots that can kick the shite out of anyone.

I feel absolutely shabby in my well worn blue-grey t-shirt that has grown a bit too tight around the shoulders and keeps riding up a little if I stretch too much and the dark jeans that I had just pulled out of the closet as it was the most recently washed and on top of the pile. Not to forget my loafers! But I refuse to ever regret my loafers! My work has me wearing ankle high Combat boots most of the time and so these loafers are a luxury. I did not come here to walk the ramp as Malfoy seems to have, so I refuse to be embarrassed.

My eyes wander again. I try, I really do, but there is something so different and yet familiar about Malfoy that I feel that it is going to soon push me off edge if I don't discover what it is. I take in his face again. The ruthless perfection of it. The profile is still angular, his high cheek bones are a little softened, his straight nose not as pointy as before, I wonder how he can still look so masculine with such refined features and such long hair. I can see his adam's apple dipping in that strong and sinewy neck so perfectly flawless and pale. His face turns a little, his eyes looking down at something and a slight soft smile plays on his lips. I look at what his eyes are trained on, and its Teddy, who is in the process of jumping up the patio steps.

All of a sudden it hits me. What an illusion this perfect beauty is. This is why I hate perfection, it's never benign. How evil does Malfoy has to be? How cold and ruthless to smile down at the child from whom he is going to snatch away one chance of a secure future that will not involve any charity and only what is rightfully the child's. I suddenly have the urge to bash his fucking perfect face in. Suddenly as if feeling the hatred that is running through my veins the lying ferret looks up directly at me. I hope he sees how badly I intend to hurt him, how badly I want him to try…just try to take what belongs to Teddy. The perfect pale eyebrows draw together in an expression I can't name and then the silvery eyes that were shining a few moments ago dull as his skin loses the glow. And I can't help the satisfaction I find in making that possible. GOOD!

"Ah! You are absolutely filthy young man!" Andromeda chastises Teddy who I know is filthy because he was tumbling around in the grass so much just a few minutes ago. Not to mention sweaty.

"Come! You will change and wash your face before I let you near the scones…" says Andromeda, looking all forbidding and unarguable.

"Gentlemen if you will excuse me, I need to see to this incorrigible child…" She glares at the pouting child but a deep affection and adoration is too clear in her eyes. I could not have asked for a perfect opportunity than this. Malfoy and I need to have words! Few but important words! And I am sure Andromeda would not like the context or tone of those words. I give her my most reassuring smile

"By all means Andy." I say as she stands to take the child inside. Casting a stasis charm at the tea and the scones. "I think Malfoy and I will take a turn around the garden, like those victorian novels you like so much… for old time's sake." I do not look at Malfoy but at Andromeda who smiles a little uncertainly at me before she takes Teddy's hand and leads him inside. I turn to see Malfoy standing the lines of his body straight and alert. Calculation and determination on his face, his grey eyes are trained on me intensely. I nod courteously as I still stand in the garden, gesturing him to join me. Something flickers in his eyes for a moment and then he gives out a long bored sigh before he looks at me sneering in that particular way of his as he steps down the four steps. Stopping only inches away from me. Magic hums between us. He is remarkably powerful and he knows it but then, so am I.

"What is it Potter? Want to call me names again? Threaten me?" He drawls in his low key way. A sneer stretching on those lips. He is standing very close to me, so close that I can smell him with every inhale. He smells all woods and green apples and strange sensitive magic.

"No, just to warn you Malfoy! I am sure your memory is good enough to not forget all that I said to you last time we saw each other. But let me just add a few things." I step even closer to him close enough to see the slight blush in his pale cheek. Close enough to see my own eyes reflecting his. His breath is now washing on my face.

There is that expression again in his eyes. It looks like worry and alarm all mixed up with desperation and annoyance and sheer helplessness.

"If you think of even trying to get your hands on the Black fortune Malfoy, I will destroy you. That fortune belongs to Teddy, who lost his parents to that Mad bastard who you and your fucking father supported. I know the slimy lot you come from, honor and respect means nothing to you but you will honor and respect the rights of that child or I will tap dance on your ashes after I scorch you alive Malfoy! Metaphorically and literally." I would have preceded one step further with my tirade had I not caught an original blink of confusion and bewilderment in those eyes. I backtrack for a moment.

Oh!

Luna is my publicist, and as such on the priority list of Witch's weekly and most other publications. Luna always gets the magazines two days before the edition makes it to stalls. Which means, no one has yet received the latest edition of Witch's weekly.

Good God! Here I am brandishing all my loathing on Malfoy who by the looks of it has no clue regarding what I am talking about. Moreover, it is something that Witch's weekly is gossiping about. I mean they still speculate and gossip sometimes about the concept that I might be a hermaphrodite. The idea might not have even crossed Malfoy's mind here.

Well, now it certainly has, hasn't it, thanks to my absolute stupidity.

Nothing for it now. Save face. Give it color of suspicion. Tell him that you suspect the worse of the worse from him and you don't think him above stealing and snatching from a helpless child. After all you did see him sneaking some other kid's present into his own robe pocket in your second year. He is a liar and liars are not far from thieving and manipulating and snatching.

He is still dumbstruck staring at me his eyes lit with anger and absolute loathing. I take confidence from that.

"I know you are not above stealing and snatching from a child Malfoy so don't even think about denying it. You were always a little thief, I know, putting things that didn't belong to you in your pocket. A Liar, a coward and a thief. So it is not far-fetched that you will try such a thing, after all why would you make nice with the aunt your parents called a disgrace and being nice to Teddy? Oh that is a nice touch of sadism right there. So purely Slytherin. Well, you might fool the rest of the world Malfoy, but you will never fool me. So heed my warning if you know what's good for you."

I run out of malice which had just now been fuelling my tirade suddenly for some unknown reason, and I realize for the first time how close I am standing to him, close enough to feel the warmth of his body. His eyes are shining and I find it difficult to keep meeting them. They are making my heart beat faster for some reason. I know I have said some really hurtful things just now, based on assumption and despite the fact that it is Malfoy I said them to, I feel like an arse hole.

I decide that I will allow him to take a shot at me now, which I know is coming, for compensating my overtly harsh judgment. Yes, take it like a man Potter, do not strike back. So I brace myself and wait, I wait for the stunned expression to morph into a sneer, I wait for that absolutely hateful yet exhilarating drawl to start berating me in return. That is what I have just set up myself for, and if there is still someone who won't take shit from me in the whole damned wizarding world, it would be this Malfoy. I know I can count on it, because I do not know yet that I can't count on it.

A few seconds stretch between us while he looks at me with those stony eyes that seem to have a storm inside them, but that storm does not break out of the confinement of those eyes. It swirls and solidifies the mouth does not open, the words don't come. I realize for the first time that perhaps the seven years in between have changed something in him too, just like they have changed me, and the whole world around me. Something is crumbling somewhere. I have only ever associated extreme emotions like dislike and hatred and aggression when it comes to confronting Malfoy, but if that is gone, I do not know what could be worse than that.

As if the universe hears my thoughts, the worst thing that can happen, starts happening. The lines of anger, hurt and that inexplicable emotion fade and his face morphs into absolute blankness. It is a scary sight. It's as if I am looking into a void for a split second before his lips curve into a heart-breakingly tragic smile. The smile is so void of any impression in the palette of human emotions that can be associated with a smile that I flinch. I have never seen a more haunted smile.

Somehow he notices my flinch and the haunted smile grows even emptier. The storm in the silver eyes halts and then I feel the connection, It is just a glimpse, like a small electric jolt, but in that moment I feel as I am journeying through another dimension and am able to decipher the emptiness of those silver eyes.

What the hell happened to you Draco? I ask silently, I feel his fear, despair, melancholy, loneliness. I feel his tragedy. The inevitability of never getting something he desires with all his heart and soul. I feel his regret. So much regret and desperation to find a way out. And then there is coldness and darkness and pain, so much pain, and then there is me. Hatred shining in my eyes, snarling, twisting my wand in the pattern that is now so familiar to me. I am casting the sectumsempra spell. Fear, resignation, sadness, and…..

I am jolted out of whatever just transpired between me and Malfoy by the sound of the Fly net door creaking open and I notice for the first time that my left hand is laying flat in the middle of Malfoy's chest. There is a thunder under my fingers which has nothing to do with the slow movement of his inhales and exhales. It's his heart, the thumps are so fast that they are indistinguishable I feel as if I am holding it in my hand I can feel its constant movement and its warmth seeping through my fingers through his cashmere jumper. And then my mind kick starts again. I move my hand away from him quickly feeling the vibration and lingering heat clinging to it like a glove. I step back again two steps the three, looking towards the fly net door where Teddy stands looking at me suspiciously for some reason, he then turns his eyes to Malfoy and I turn as well to look at him encouraged by the cover young Teddy is providing.

Malfoy is hanging his head down, fists and eyes clenched close concentration deep in his face. He inhales a deep breath a few seconds later and his posture eases. He shoots his head up to look at me directly his eyes are stone again, impenetrable, he blinks at me once, twice and then turns away toward the cottage entrance. Passing by Teddy he ruffles his hair fondly and Teddy smiles up at him shyly but Malfoy hardly stops and makes his way quickly inside the cottage in a swift and graceful if urgent manner. I stand for long moments staring after him. My attention is only broken when I feel a little hand slipping into mine. I look down to see Teddy looking up at me with brilliant Hazel eyes.

"You still don't want to be his friend?" Teddy asks me quietly, disappointment shining in his eyes. My heart sputters.

"What?" I ask him confused and slightly disturbed. How does he know about that?

"You said pushing was wrong that time I pushed Hugo and he fell so then why were you pushing Draco? Is it okay when grownups do it?"

I am too stunned for a moment to open my mouth and answer the inquiring child. I should have known that that moment would stretch out to the whole of my afternoon.

Moroseness, disappointment and a strange sense of foreboding is haunting me tonight as I lay in my bed staring up at the ceiling trying to still figure out how to fix things. I know what my friends would say if I spoke to them about what happened today.

But that is the question isn't it? What did happen today? I figure it's best to review the event chronologically.

I had that intense, revealing and disconcerting chat with Luna after she showed me the newest edition of Witch's Weekly. Which was slathered in Gossip and absolutely inappropriate innuendo.

I should have been desensitized by the Gossip mongering of such magazines but I had allowed myself to become affected enough by it to go and talk to Andromeda about Malfoy trying to claim the Black title and fortune. I had mainly done it because the flood of revelation of why Malfoy was everyone's darling, had confused me so much that I had forgotten that the claim that Malfoy was going to go for Black fortunes was made by a Gossip Magazine, not only that, they had not made a claim at all, only a speculation and my mind had just run rampant with it.

I groan , burying my face in my pillow. As I feel too ashamed to even face the air.

SERIOUSLY!?

And then I had come across Malfoy. At Laurel cottage. All easy and sweet to my Teddy, in muggle clothes! MY TEDDY! And MUGGLE CLOTHES? Amazing muggle clothes. Making me feel shabby and ugly and surpassed and just over all inadequate. So naturally, I had gone on defensive. Accusing him of something even the gossip-mongers were only speculating about. I called him a thief, a coward and a liar. I sneered at him. I called him a sadist.

In short, I had been Draco Malfoy at that moment.

The pointy-faced 11-16 year old git. Who never gave up on any chance to poke and push and sneer and snarl and provoke.

Then I had slipped into Malfoy's….I don't exactly know what it was. Mind? Soul? Psyche? I still can't figure out if it was accidental legilimency or what, but it had been one of the most intense and confounding experience of my life. So stark and real as if it was the blood pulsing through our veins at the same time. I have never shared anything of that sort with anyone in my life and I am someone who shared a mind connection with Voldemort for sixteen years of my life. I can't help but hate the fact that that is yet another first that Malfoy has inadvertently stamped his name on. I hate him.

And if I thought he was jolting me from my axis before I know now how wrong I was because I find myself right now in a totally in an altogether different galaxy. What is happening? What is wrong with me? What is wrong with Malfoy?

All along when the darkness in my life had surrounded me so starkly, I had held on to myself with the proud assurance that I would never do the things those engulfed with darkness did. I had held on to my sense of fairness, compassion and nobility like a shield and once the war was over, I had still held on to that shield and worked my way even more diligently, trying to change the attitudes that led to the war in the first place.

Did I only find all that compassion and willingness in me to do all that because due to the chain of events I had not really confronted any of my real enemies, or tormentors at length? They had all died rather quickly before I could do anything about them and now at the first confrontation with someone who really was a rival and an enemy, at whose hands my friends had really suffered, I had slipped into the role of a vindictive threatening bastard so easily? Is Luna right about me being a hypocrite? Am I any better than my father and his friends who had tormented Severus just because they had the advantage and were prejudiced? What I have been doing since Malfoy's return is the same. He did not provoke me, he did not even speak to me and I went ahead and threatened him just because he is vulnerable and I am strong. Does it make me any different than those I fought the war against?

No, I am not a hypocrite and if I have been acting like one, then I will fix it. I will not fall into the pitfalls of power. I will not threaten Malfoy anymore. I will watch him closely since he is now even more of an unaccounted for yet possibly influential variable to the tender balance of the lives we are living so cautiously, but I will give him the benefit of the doubt and neutral judgment that he has not given me ever.

But first I will have to see him again. I will have to start over. I will have to get close enough to watch.

I will go to the Malfoy manor.

Decision made, I feel a weight lift off of me and the emotional roller coaster of a day finally starts to weigh down on me. That is until a flash of Silver comes through my Bedroom door. I startle awake to see Ron's Patronus bounding in its doggy form complete with salivating and all.

'Emergency at Hogwarts. Floo in to the Headmistress's office. Hurry!'

I jump out of bed as fast as I can my hand fishing out my faithful wand from under my pillow on a reflex. Cursing Ron for not giving me more details and cursing myself for not being fast enough. I drag on the jean over the boxers and don't bother removing the night shirt before I fling on my auror robes.

Two minutes later I am stepping out from the fireplace in McGonagall's office. To find Two junior aurors that just joined the force last month standing by the door. I know them by face fairly well, it is the names I usually don't do well with at all. Never have. The taller one of the two I remember easily enough as he casted one of the best and effective 'Slumberos' curse I have ever seen. I compose myself properly. Being a senior Auror who is usually given only High-profile cases or the ones with legal repercussions, I have a certain reputation to keep up. I know I am one of the youngest senior Aurors recorded in the history of magical Law enforcement so where I lack in age I make up for in seriousness. It has worked for me very well, especially with Ron flanking me in most cases, and where I do the aloof serious hero part, he plays the indispensable friendly hero part. We make a brilliant team at work. Where I intimidate people into getting what I want Snape as my inspiration, he eases them. So we cover all fronts easily. Not to forget that he is one of the shrewdest strategists and I one of the most reckless executors.

As soon as the junior aurors see me they straighten up. I look at them questioningly.

"Auror Potter, they need you down at Professor Dumbledore's grave immediately."

Dumbledore's grave? My racing mind comes to a screeching halt for a moment.

Why Dumbledore's tomb? It can't be because of 'that'.

I rush out of the office in large strides feeling the junior Aurors flanking me.

"What are your names gentlemen?" I ask in a neutral tone.

"Cedric Dunston and Harry Pontner sir."

"Oh dear Merlin!" I look back at the brown haired Auror smiling apologetically. He is definitely not the first Harry I have come across. We already have Three Harriets in the department of law enforcement itself, it just never fails to surprise me that people who share my name in my own department were named actually after me. Poor Harry Pontner is the closest though.

"I thought you would say something like that sir."

He smiles at me ruefully. I am impressed by his confident deference. It is a very balanced combination.

"Is Auror Weasley down there as well?"

"Yes sir, half the department is down there. The alarms on the wards went off at 23:40 to be exact."

"Any captures?"

"No sir, no captures."

"Has the headmistress or the Minister requested my presence here?"

Dunston and Pontner exchange a nervous look between them which I suppose I am supposed to take note of. Smart lads.

"I think sir, it would be sort of a moot point once you get there and see for yourself." Pontner says. I just raise a brow at him sardonically.

"Is that so?" My tone makes them squirm but they say nothing.

I decide that it is better to deduce the situation by myself anyways.

We swiftly cross the Entrance hall and then step out into the grounds. The Juniors lied. It seems as if the whole department is here. I make my way Scarlet auror robes flapping behind me. I only hope that my night shirt is fully tucked into my jeans.

I stride towards the lake with purpose, across the western shore that cuts closely by the forbidden forest. I feel the forest on alert as well. only to come to a halt mid stride when my eyes look straight ahead where the white marble tomb was built. There up in the air revolves a magical signature. Countless memories of suspended in air dark mark flash through my mind. Many of them the worst memories of mine. It takes me a few second to realize that it is not the skull and the snake. It's a black horned dragon swirling around a jagged 'M' with a wand in it's teeth. It's grotesque in it's own way, but not near as grotesque as the dark mark was. I quickly make a note to check on the significance and the kind this dragon is. Though I am sure if nothing helps, I can always call on Charlie. A few people move away from the line of my vision and then I am horror struck.

Dumbledore's casket perches on the edge of the roof of the tomb precariously, it is still closed and I am thankful for that, and then my eye catches on the real reason I have been called here. On the White marble skirting of the roof the words are burnt as if written with liquid fire.

'Qui salvabo vos salvatore Potter?'

('Who will save you Savior Potter?')

The air is thick with magic and the smell of burnt things. Someone touches my arm and brings me out of my state of shocked outrage. My grip tightens around my wand.

I snap my head to look who has dared only to see one of the very few people who can dare to touch me when I am teetering on the edge of control.

"It actually gets worse." Ron mumbles. I simply blink my eyes to make him continue.

"We also found a Centaur slaughtered on the Altar. Though it was mutilated beyond recognition and we still haven't been able to actually enter the Tomb as it is invisibly warded, we have reason to believe its Firenze."

I blink at my best friend who looks sick and grey in the wand lights and oil sconces. Then a gurgle and a groan makes everyone stop in their track as we all look up at the casket which lurches on it's precarious perch before it starts to fall down.

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The Principle of Sympathy