Harry stared at Merlin in silence, not even sure what to say, but finally understanding what Merlin meant when he said the study group twisted what happened.

"She wants to come back and finish what she started," Merlin stated solemnly.

"How much stronger do you think she is?" Harry asked, trying to gauge exactly what they were facing.

"It doesn't matter," Merlin admitted. "She survived in that place for almost a thousand years. Even at the height of my abilities, her powers when I fought her in the chamber dwarfed my own. If not for the dagger, she would have killed me outright."

"Then how do we stop her?" Harry asked.

"The only way we can stop her is by stopping the ritual before it starts," Merlin explained. "If she crosses over, there's no one that can stand against her."

Harry nodded, understanding the seriousness of the situation, and a little more about how the legendary wizard became the man he was.

"What about the dagger?" Harry asked. "It was able to hurt her. Where is it now?"

"On your wrist holster," Merlin answered simply.

"What?" Harry asked, looking at his wand in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"That wand is more powerful than you realize," Merlin explained. "Channel your magic into it, but don't try to cast a spell. Just concentrate on the form of the dagger from my memories."

Harry looked down at his wand, doing as Merlin instructed. A moment later, a soft pulse of light engulfed his wand, replacing it with the dagger. "How?" Harry asked in shock, examining the dagger carefully. "That didn't feel like a transfiguration." He couldn't even feel any magic leaking from it like normal transfigured objects.

"It's not," Merlin replied. "It's an enchantment, one so advanced I've never been able to fully decipher it."

"Where did it come from?" Harry asked, studying the intricate details of the dagger.

"I've no idea," Merlin admitted. "In all my travels, I've never found anything like it."

"Is it from another plane of existence, like the place Morgan opened the portal to?" Harry asked, remembering how primitive the magicals were at that time. 'There was no way they could make something this advanced, could they?' he thought.

"It's the same conclusion I came to as well," Merlin agreed. "I've shown it to a few people over the years, experts in this sort of thing, and they were almost certain it predates our recorded history."

"How did you know you could change its shape? Can it change into anything else?" Harry asked, wondering what else it could do.

"I studied it and its enchantments for many years," Merlin explained. "I could only scratch the surface of what it was capable of, but it's possible there are other forms it can take."

"There's more to it than that," Harry said as realization struck him. "It's thousands of years old, but still looks like a modern wand. How is that even possible?"

"You're looking at it the wrong way around," Merlin explained. "It doesn't look like a modern wand. Modern wands look like it. The people I showed the wand to, they learned how to craft wands by studying it."

Harry felt his jaw drop open as he turned the dagger back into its wand form. "…Then this is…"

"Yes," Merlin replied, answering his unspoken question. "Our entire society, everything our kind has built, was based upon that wand."

"Why did you wait until now to tell me?" Harry asked, wondering why Merlin would have kept something like this from him.

"And what exactly would you have done with that information?" Merlin asked skeptically.

"That's not the point," Harry replied. "It's…" he trailed off, trying to think of a proper response.

"Exactly," Merlin smirked. "There's a great many things I know that you're nowhere near ready to deal with."

"Then why tell me now?" Harry asked.

"The wand requires magical power to change form," Merlin explained. "You weren't strong enough then to do it, nor did you have a use for this form, and now you do."

Harry wanted to ask a lot more questions but felt it would be morning soon. "Alright," he said. "I guess we can talk about this later," he added, thinking about how much of this he could reveal to Ron and Hermione.

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"So what happened?" Ron asked as he, Hermione and Harry walked down the hallway of the seventh floor. "You had me and Hermione worried."

"Sorry," Harry apologized. "…It was just a lot to take in. I had no idea it went that far."

"We already know they're planning on opening a portal to another world," Hermione pointed out. "How much worse could it have been?"

"A lot worse," Harry said as they stopped in front of a door.

"Wait a second," Hermione said, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "That door wasn't here before."

Harry pushed open the door as they stepped inside. "Professor Green told me about it. She said we can use it for our exercises instead of going outside."

Hermione's jaw dropped open as they stepped into the large gymnasium, shocked at how large the room was. There was a giant track to run laps around, mats to do stretches and other exercises, even a set of weights along the wall.

"We had a place like this all this time?" Ron asked, surprised as well. "How come no one ever told us about this before?"

"How is it so much bigger inside than it is on the outside?" Hermione asked, having never seen anything like it before.

"It's an expansion charm," Harry explained. "It's the same idea as the bottomless pouches Gringott's sells, just more advanced. This place is called the room of requirements," he went on. "It can turn into anything we need it to," He said as three arm chairs appeared along with a fireplace. "Let's sit down. There's a lot I have to tell you."

"Alright, let's have it," Ron said, as he sat down, preparing himself for bad news.

"The study group is a lot older than we thought," Harry explained. "They go back at least 1500 years, probably longer, and back then they called themselves the Order of Set."

"The Order of Set?" Hermione asked, furrowing her brow. "That's an Egyptian god, right?"

"Yes," Harry continued. "According to Andre, they were an organization that found and recruited magicals to teach them how to control their magic," he said, going through a brief explanation of the Order and what Andre had said.

"So, this person, Celestia, they're still alive?" Ron asked. "How is that possible after all this time?"

"The place she went, there is no death," Harry explained. "And she's been there, absorbing the magic of that place for all this time. If she makes it back here, there won't be anything anyone can do to stop her."

"What if they're telling the truth?" Hermione asked, thinking about all the things Celestia had done over the years to help their kind.

Harry paused for a moment, thinking about what to say. He couldn't reveal that it was really Morgan in disguise, especially with the risk of someone pulling the information from their minds.

"Don't just listed to what they say," Harry replied. "Think about what they're willing to do to achieve their goals."

Hermione and Ron nodded, thinking about how many times the study group had tried to kill them since they found out about them, and what they were willing to do to themselves, performing the dangerous rituals they had.

"There's more, isn't there?" Hermione asked, sensing the hesitation in Harry's voice, and knowing there had to be something else Harry wasn't telling them.

"There is," Harry revealed. "They have a magical tome called the Darkhold," he explained. "That's where they learned about the ritual, and it's what they're going to use to open the portal. It was passed down over the centuries through the family line of one of the original members of the order until it ended up in the hands of Helga Hufflepuff."

"What?!" Hermione and Ron asked in shock, unable to reconcile the thought of the house known for loyalty and hard work ever being associated with something like this.

"What about the other founders?" Ron asked, "Did they know about it too?"

"They did," Harry replied. "But I don't think they knew everything. Celestia has been spoon feeding them what she wanted them to know for centuries, making sure each of them did their parts without anyone finding out the full plan."

"What did the founders do?" Hermione asked, almost afraid the hear the answer.

"They built the school to store the magical energy needed to open the portal," Harry explained, "and probably a few other enchantments to make it easier for the study group to operate without drawing too much attention to themselves."

"That's how they were able to chase us through the school without anyone noticing them," Ron said, remembering the first time they encountered them.

"Yes," Harry said, having come to the same conclusion earlier. "But it isn't without limit. We were still able to find them, and after Peeves set off the fireworks everyone in the school noticed too."

"Maybe that's why Slytherin left the school," Hermione theorized. "Maybe he found out the truth."

"It's possible," Harry agreed, considering the possibility.

"We have to tell Draco," Hermione said. "He would want to know about this too."

"No," Harry shook his head. "We have to respect his choice. He doesn't want to be a part of this."

Hermione looked like she was ready to argue before Ron jumped in. "What do we do about the founders?" He asked. "No one's going to look at them the same way once they find out the truth."

Harry sighed, having similar thoughts about them as well. "We can't prove any of it," he finally said. "And right now, it doesn't matter. They've already done their part. There's nothing we can gain by dwelling on it."

Ron nodded reluctantly, seeing Harry's point, but also not liking the idea of hiding something like this, either.

"I know you both have a lot of questions," Harry said. "But we need to focus on what we came here to do," he added. "We can talk about what to do about the study group later."

"Right," Hermione and Ron nodded, getting back on track.

"Let's get started with your training," Harry said, rolling up his sleeves. "This is one of the first things I learned," he said, causing his magic to flare from his palm.

Hermione looked at Harry in surprise. "Is that wandless magic?" she asked.

Harry nodded. "It's what our ancestors used before wands. As a magical being, you naturally produce magic, then you focus and expel that magic through a specific point in your body," he said, repeating the words Merlin told him. "The one you normally use is in your palm, and it connects directly to your wand, but that's only one of them. We have them all over our bodies," he added, lighting up multiple points on his body. "With training, you can increase the size of each point, allowing you to put more power into your spells."

"That's incredible," Ron said, looking at Harry's forearm in awe.

"It's also dangerous," Harry warned. "Sending too much magic before you're ready could damage your magical pathways, sometimes permanently."

"That's what happened to you in the forest," Hermione realized, "when you killed the acromantula."

"Yes," Harry agreed. "I've got better since then, but I was lucky the damage wasn't permanent."

"How do we start?" Ron asked, remembering how useless he was when the study group chased them with their brooms, and not wanting to have a repeat of the same incident.

"Hold out your hand, palm up," Harry instructed. "Then draw on your magic, as if you're about to cast a spell. When you see your palm light up, you'll know you've found it."

Hermione and Ron followed Harry's instructions, concentrating on finding their central magical point.

After almost an hour of practicing, Hermione felt frustrated. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't seem to make it work. She looked over at Ron, who had a similar look of frustration on her face, then at Harry seated on the floor.

All over his body, she could see points of light shining through his clothes. Some were larger and more prominent that others, but she could practically feel the magic he was putting out. She knew Harry wasn't showing off. He was just training, just like she and Ron were, but it irked her to be so far behind. She felt a twinge of jealousy rear its ugly head, but quickly tapped down, reminding herself that what had happened when she let her jealousy get the better of her.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Ron let out a long sigh. "this is impossible Harry," he finally said, the frustration setting in for him as well. "How long did it take you to figure this out?"

"It isn't a race, Ron," Harry explained patiently. "It takes as long as it takes to learn this technique. Everyone's magical points, and their locations are different."

"You figured it out almost immediately, didn't you?" Hermione spoke up, realizing that Harry hadn't actually answered Ron's question.

"I didn't learn it the same way I'm teaching you," Harry explained. "The knowledge I received let me feel what it was like to locate my central magical point. I can't do the same thing for you," he added regretfully, "but maybe there's a different way we can try this," he said, getting an idea. "Take out your wands and light up the tip."

Hermione and Ron nodded, following his instructions. "Ok, now what?" Ron asked, looking down at his wand.

"Do you feel your magic being used? A slight strain as you keep up the spell?" Harry asked, continuing after Hermione and Ron nodded. "Good, now concentrate on that," he instructed. "Follow it back from the tip of your wand to the palm of your hand. That's your central magical point."

"I think I feel it," Hermione smiled. "Me too," Ron added a moment later.

"Good. Now try to do it without using your wand. Try to find that same feeling," Harry instructed patiently.

Hermione nodded, following Harry's instructions, but was disappointed when she still couldn't find it. She looked over at Ron, seeing the look of concentration on his face as he stared at his palm, refusing to give up. She closed her eyes, redoubling her efforts to find it as well.

Over the next hour Hermione and Ron continued to practice, using their wands as a guide, trying to locate their magical points, until Hermione let out a gasp as she looked at her palm. "I think I got it," she said, her eyes lighting up. The light was small, almost a flicker, but she could see it.

"That's great, Hermione!" Harry smiled, looking down at her palm. "Keep practicing. It should get easier each time you do it."

Hermione nodded, concentrating on making the light larger and brighter, just like the ones Harry could do.

A little while later, Ron also picked up the trick as well. "I think I got it," he smiled.

"Great work Ron," Harry complimented, checking his watch. "We should probably head back, but both of you keep practicing through the Christmas holidays. You should also try to find the rest of your magical points as well. It's going to help with the next part of your training."

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"Minister," Delores said, sticking her head into Fudge's office. "There's a Rita Skeeter here to see you. Should I send her on her way?" She asked, making her feeling on the reporter clear.

"No, not at all," Cornelius said, looking up from the report he was reading. "Send her in, and clear my schedule for the next hour," he added.

"Of course Minister," Delores said, not liking the idea of the Minister getting caught up in the machinations of a gossip columnist, but having little choice in the matter.

Rita marched past Delores with a smirk on her face, closing the door behind her and casting a muffling charm to be on the safe side. "Hello Minister," she smiled.

"Hello Rita, what brings you to the ministry?" Cornelius asked.

"I wanted to follow up with you, actually. You never told me about the results of the wellness check on Sirius Black," Rita replied.

"It sounds like you've got yourself a new lead," Cornelius realized. "What did you find out?"

"You first Minister, what happened with Black?" Rita insisted.

"There's not much to tell," Cornelius said with a sigh. "Apparently he's in good health, and not in the mood for company."

"You heard that from him directly?" Rita asked. "How did he look?"

"Not directly, no," Cornelius denied. "Only the DMLE can do wellness checks."

"Since when?" Rita asked, furrowing her brows. "I don't remember any law about that."

"I'm not surprised," Cornelius replied. "It was passed about ten years ago, and very quietly," Cornelius replied.

Rita cursed, connecting the dots as she assumed Fudge did. "So right after Gloria Potter defeated the dark lord, then?" She snarked.

Cornelius nodded, "and there's nothing I can do about it either. I've gone through the law twice, there's no loopholes to exploit on this one."

"Then Bones is part of this," Rita concluded, not trusting the DMLE's word for a moment.

"Yes, but I don't think she's going along with this willingly," Cornelius added. "I've worked with her for years, and this is the first time she's ever lied to me."

"Well, that's great," Rita said sarcastically, flopping down in her chair. "I got lucky tracking down Lupin, and even that was a dead end."

"What did he say?" Cornelius asked, curiously.

"He had a falling out with Pettigrew, Black, and Potter," she replied. "He hasn't seen any of them in years, and wants to keep it that way."

"And I take it he doesn't know anything about Pettigrew's disappearance or Black's imprisonment," Cornelius asked, not believing for a second that Black became a recluse by choice.

"Nothing we didn't already know," Rita replied. "Well, except for two things. Lupin doesn't seem to like Dumbledore. He got angry that I even brought him up, refused to say anything about him, and the fact he's a werewolf."

"Interesting," Cornelius said, leaning back in his chair. 'Dumbledore wouldn't have missed that he was a werewolf,' he thought, knowing how observant the man was. "When was he bitten?"

"When he was a child," Rita replied, "what are you thinking?" she asked, noting the thoughtful look on the Minister's face.

"Dumbledore knew he was a werewolf from the jump," Cornelius deduced. "There's no way a child could have hidden something like that from him for all seven years of Hogwarts."

"He allowed him to attend, knowing the danger he posed to the other students?" Rita asked in alarm.

"You'll never be able to prove it," Fudge replied, already having an idea of what Rita was thinking. "Any evidence of his involvement is long gone by now."

"Why did he do it then? Why take the risk?" Rita asked.

"My guess is he had a use for him," Fudge replied. "Probably groomed him to become a spy for him amongst the werewolf clans."

"That makes sense," Rita acknowledged, knowing how secretive the clans were, especially against anyone they considered an outsider. "Considering the timing Dumbledore must have cut him loose," she realized. "He didn't want any controversy attached to the girl-who-lived."

"Most likely," Fudge agreed. "With the dark lord defeated, he didn't need to worry about werewolves anymore."

"There's no way for me to get to Black," Rita pointed out, "not without the DMLE putting me in a cell in Azkaban. That only leaves Potter."

Fudge nodded, coming to the same conclusion. "After your article, he isn't likely to talk to you either," he pointed out.

"It's a challenge," Rita agreed. "But he'll be at the Christmas Party, won't he? Maybe he'll let something slip."

"He will," Cornelius said, feeling his blood pressure rise. If it was up to him Potter wouldn't be allowed anywhere near the Ministry, and even though he was no longer a member of the Wizengamot the various levels of government expected Gloria Potter to be at the party, which meant Potter had to attend as well.

"I'll see you there," Rita said, standing up to leave. "By the way, your secretary, Delores. You should be careful around her," she warned.

"I know all about her," Cornelius reassured Rita, already knowing about Delores's proclivities and general attitude.

"Why haven't you fired her yet?" Rita asked curiously, wondering why Fudge would risk keeping her around.

"She's too well connected," Fudge replied. "The headaches I would have to deal with afterwards are just not worth it at the moment."

"Alright, if you're sure," Rita said with a shrug as she opened the door.

Fudge watched Rita leave, impressed by how quickly the reporter had assessed Delores's character. In truth, the only thing holding him back from dismissing Delores outright was her infatuation with him, somewhat ensuring she wouldn't act against him and her contacts. 'Politics is a dirty business,' he thought. As distasteful as he found Umbridge, her contacts had helped him stay a step ahead of his political rivals on more than one occasion.

----------------------------------------

Hermione stood at the main entrance, along with the other students, waiting to go home for the holidays. They were still giving her a wide berth, refusing to talk with her, even the ones she considered as friends before the whole test fiasco. It was by far the most difficult part of her punishment she had to deal with.

She sighed in relief when she spotted Draco making her way over to him, glad to at least have someone to talk to on the train ride.

"Draco," she smiled warmly, making her way over to him.

"Hermione," Draco acknowledged, finding it awkward to talk to her after his decision to leave Potter's group, but also glad to have someone to speak with on the train ride.

"Are you going home for Christmas?" Hermione asked, struggling to find something to talk about other than the study group and what Harry told her about them.

"Yes," Draco replied, holding up his bag.

"Right, that's why you're here," Hermione acknowledged, realizing how silly her question must have sounded, wondering why she found it so difficult to talk to Draco right now.

Draco returned Hermione's awkward look, struggling to think of something to talk about. So much of their school year had been consumed with getting to the top of the student rankings, and then getting away from the study group, both of which were over with now.

"My parents aren't happy with me," Hermione said, finally landing on something she could talk about. "They don't like that I cheated on the test."

"Are they going to withdraw you from Hogwarts?" Draco asked.

"They considered it," Hermione replied. "The only reason they didn't is because I still need to learn how to control my magic."

"At least there's that," Draco agreed.

"What about you?" Hermione asked. "I can't imagine your parents were pleased, either."

"No, they weren't," Draco agreed. "I doubt they'll pull me from Hogwarts, but I'm on thin ice with them, especially my father."

"He didn't say much when we were in the Headmaster's office," Hermione said. "Maybe it won't be so bad?"

"No," Draco shook his head. "He won't make a scene in public, but I'm definitely getting an ear full when I get home."

"Everyone going home for the holidays form a line," Professor Green said, addressing the students. "We'll take the carriages to Hogsmeade station. From there, you'll board the train and be on your way home."

"Shall we?" Draco asked, pointing at the line of students in front of them.

Hermione nodded, getting in line with Draco as they waited for the carriages.

----------------------------------------

Draco stepped off the train, making sure Hermione was not with him. The last thing he needed was for his father to see him with a muggle born after the trouble he was already in. Thankfully, Hermione understood his position.

He looked around, his eyes finally settling on his mother. He was glad to see her, but couldn't help the frown on his face when he realized his father wasn't there waiting for him.

"Draco!" Narcissa called, spotting her son. Walking up to greet him, she wrapped him in a hug. "I've missed you."

"I missed you too, mother," Draco replied, returning the hug. "Is father running late?" he asked.

The smile dropped from Narcissa's face as she regarded her son. "no Draco. Your father had some important business to attend to," she lied. "But he should be home soon."

"Oh," Draco said, trying to hide his disappointment, but knowing his mother was lying to spare his feelings.

He couldn't help but look over at Hermione, wrapped in a hug with her parents, and felt a pang of envy. Even after everything, both her parents were there, still happy to see her.

Narcissa followed Draco's gaze to the bushy-haired girl before looking back at Draco. "I take it that's the Granger girl your father mentioned?" She asked.

"Hermione," Draco replied. "Her name is Hermione."

"Hermione," Narcissa repeated. "I don't know what possessed the two of you to steal that test. I looked up her ranking as well. Neither one of you had anything to gain by doing what you did."

'If only you knew,' Draco thought, considering all the trouble they got into, and how easily it could have all been avoided if they listened to Potter from the beginning. "Can we talk about this later?" He asked his mother.

"Alright," Narcissa relented, "But we are going to have this discussion. And you are still very much in trouble," she said, side long apparating them back to Malfoy Manor.

----------------------------------------

Draco sat in his room fidgeting nervously as he waited for his father to return home, feeling even more anxious now than when his father came to Hogwarts. He wondered what to tell him, how to explain what he had done.

He thought about what Weasley said would happen if he told his father about the study group, wondering if it was even a good idea to tell him the real reason he cheated on the test. If his father looked into it, what would happen to him, or his mother? The Alumni could be anywhere, they could be anyone.

"Master Draco," Dobby said as he popped into Draco's room. "Your father is home and wishes to speak to you."

Draco nodded, standing up as he made his way to his father's study, knowing this wouldn't be an easy conversation.

Dobby watched the young master leave, surprised by how much he changed after just a few short months at Hogwarts. It seemed like the time away had been good for him, even with the trouble he was in now with his father. The young master hadn't raised his voice to him, or any of the other elves, since his return. He also seemed to have lost a great deal of the arrogance he left for Hogwarts with.

Draco stood in front of the door to his father's study, staring at the dark mahogany wood for a long moment before he finally knocked on the door. "Enter!" He heard his father bark from the other side of the door. He took a deep breath to prepare himself before he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

Lucius looked up from the document he was reading as he regarded his son. To say that he was furious was an understatement. The controversy had spread like wildfire through the circles he frequented, causing him no small amount of headaches as the other lords pounced on the opportunity his own son handed them on a silver platter.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" He asked, keeping his tone even, watching as his son wilted under his glare.

"I tried my best to do what you told me, father," Draco replied, having spent a great deal of time thinking of how he could explain this to his father.

"Well, your best wasn't good enough," Lucius jumped in. "The Potter boy, a half blood ran circles around you. You're a Malfoy, a pureblood. Act like it!"

"That's what you told me my whole life," Draco said, starting to lose his temper at being compared to Potter again. "But it didn't do me any good!"

"Don't raise your voice to me, boy," Lucius said, standing up from his desk as he glared at his son.

"Father," Draco said, looking down with an exhale to calm himself. "Potter isn't just some half blood. You know what he's done, how strong he is."

Draco's last comment stopped Lucius short, surprising him that his son hadn't resorted to whining or complaining like he usually did. He paused, taking the time to consider his words.

The forgotten son of the Potter's had none of the same advantages as Draco, or any of the other purebloods for that matter. He spent weeks searching for who could have trained him after the boy opened Merlin's vault. Tutors of that caliber comprised a very small list, and none of them had so much as spoken to Potter, let alone trained him.

"That's what makes your failure all the more damning, Draco," Lucius replied. "He accomplished everything he did with nothing more than a few books in his home, and his wits, while you have had every possible advantage."

"He didn't just beat me," Draco pointed out, hating to admit his own failure. "He beat all of us. Every pureblood, every half blood, and every muggle born. It didn't matter how hard I trained, how long I studied, or how pure my blood is, he was just… better."

"And your solution was to cheat on a test?" Lucius asked. "And consorting with mudbloods to do it?"

Draco felt a surge of anger at the way his father spoke about Hermione, but controlled himself, knowing that another outburst would just make things worse for him.

"Draco," Lucius said, shaking his head in disappointment. "I can overlook the cheating, but not getting caught, and especially how publicly it was. There will be consequences."

Draco nodded his head, already knowing there was no way to escape his punishment.

"Good," Lucius said, feeling a small amount of pride that his son was at least taking his punishment like a man. "At least you've learned to stop your incessant whining. For the rest of your holiday, the house elves will not answer to you. You are not to leave your room except for meals, and this summer forget any notions you had about what to do with your free time. You won't have any. I've hired new tutors for you that will keep you busy for your summer vacation."

"Yes, father," Draco said with a sigh, having expected nothing less.

"Return to your room," Lucius said, sitting back down. "We are attending the Ministry Christmas Party tomorrow. You will be there and on your best behavior. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, father," Draco replied.

"Before you go, tell me what else you know of Harry Potter," Lucius asked, sitting back down in his chair.

"It seems you already know all about him, father," Draco replied, unable to keep the annoyance out of his tone.

"Watch yourself Draco," Lucius said, unimpressed. "Your punishment could easily get worse."

"Potter…" Draco said, thinking about what to say. "He's intelligent, and resourceful," he added, thinking about how he handled himself against the study group. "Magically speaking, he's the most powerful first year by a wide margin, possibly even the most powerful student in the school."

"What do you know of him personally?" Lucius pressed. "Does he consider you a friend?"

Draco considered how to answer the question his father posed. They only associated with each other because of the study group, so they weren't friends in the traditional sense, but Potter could have easily left him to fend for himself. Without him stepping in, he would have been roped into whatever the study group was planning. "Potter is friendly with everyone," he finally answered, "but we aren't close."

"Hmm," Lucius said, rubbing his chin as he thought about the actions of Potter's barrister. Whatever he did, it kept the mudblood from being expelled, and that extended to Draco as well. "The boy is impressive, and is already making his mark on the world. His power and influence will only grow with time. Get closer to him by whatever means necessary. He'll be a useful ally to have when the time comes."

Draco burned at the compliments his father rained down on Potter, missing the last thing his father had said. 'Just once, I wish father could talk about him that way,' he thought enviously. Without even trying, Potter had gained the one thing he wanted from his father his whole life: his attention.

"Yes, father," Draco said as he turned on his heel, returning to his room.