Harry wandered about the Ministry determined not to ask for directions. Honestly, if they wanted to design a more confusing building they couldn't have done a better job. He wondered if Draco was having any more success than him.

He turned down a corridor and stopped. Hadn't he been down this one already? This was insane! "That's it. I'm Apparating!" Harry knew there must be spells to prevent it much like Hogwarts had, but he'd almost gotten past those and he was sure the Ministry's wards couldn't stop him. He concentrated hard on level seven, room five, closed his eyes-prayed he wouldn't get splinched-and turned his body into it. He felt the strange sensation of Apparition, used the magic in him to overcome the blocks to it, and opened his eyes to the sound of a loud crack. He looked around, checking to make sure all his limbs had come with him. All seemed to be in order, and what's more, he found himself standing right in front of room five…and Draco was staring at him.

"No one can Apparate within the Ministry!" he gasped.

"Well I guess you can after all." He straightened his robes.

"Only if you're Harry Potter," he muttered.

Harry ignored it. "Been waiting long?"

"No. I only just found it myself. Got lost."

"Me too."

"I've been…um…I've been talking with Hermione."

Harry stopped short and stared anew at Draco. "You have? Why?"

Draco's pale skin reddened. "You'll think it's stupid."

"No I won't. Tell me."

Draco stared at the closed door and then the other way down the empty corridor. "Well, I wanted to ask her if she'd be my best man, you know? Matron of Honour. I didn't have anyone else."

Harry's heart warmed. He felt an overwhelming sense of protectiveness for Draco at that moment and also a little sadness that he didn't have any friends to turn to but Harry's. "What did she say?" he asked quietly.

"She's a bloody Gryffindor. What do you think she said?"

Harry smiled broadly. He pulled Draco in for an embrace but Draco wriggled out of it. "Not in front of the Ministry."

Harry shook his head. "Come on. Let's get this over with."

They entered room five and it wasn't at all what Harry was expecting. Always when they had been called to the Ministry before it was to some sort of a trial, but this room wasn't set up that way at all. It was like any other bureaucratic room in the Ministry: lots of cubicles, very old desks, and a long imposing counter wrapped around the front of the lobby like a moat. Harry and Draco walked up to the counter and looked over the side to a squat bald man scribbling hastily with his quill. "Yes?" he asked not looking up.

Harry cleared his throat. "Um…Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy to see Freya Walsh."

The little man stopped writing and slowly raised his head. His eyes bulged like a frog's and he looked them over thoroughly one at a time. His eyes did not fail to take in Harry's fading scar. The corner of the man's mouth twitched nervously. "Bless my soul," he muttered. "So it is. Ahem, I mean…" He put down the quill and stood but he didn't look any taller. "This way, gentlemen." He stepped from behind the counter and took them down a long row of identical desks and into another room that looked like an exercise studio and closed the door after them.

The room was large, devoid of furniture except for a plain wooden table and five chairs, three on one side of the table, and two on Harry and Draco's side. The room was bright though there didn't seem to be a single light source from any one place. There was also no one there.

"What's all this?" said Draco, and his voice echoed.

Harry shrugged and stepped toward the table, looking it over. "Don't know. If I didn't know better I'd say this was some sort of training room."

"Training for what?"

"Aurors, I'd imagine."

A door they hadn't noticed in the far wall opened suddenly and three people entered, two wizards and a witch. Both wizards were tall, thin, and sandy-haired but they weren't twins as they didn't look alike at all with varying nose sizes and thick and thin-set eyes. The witch was a head shorter than the two and was dark-haired which was bound into one long braid running down her back. She was of indeterminate age. Harry thought she could easily be thirty as sixty.

They strode up without a word to the three chairs and sat at the same time. The witch sat in the middle. "Good day, gentlemen. Please. Have a seat."

Harry looked at Draco and they both sat.

"I am Freya Walsh and these are-to my right-Simon Featherwood and-to my left-Ferdinand Greckelthorn. We are here to explain the provisions under which the Ministry gives you permission to marry."

Harry felt his face redden and he wished it wouldn't. With all the magic he could do, he couldn't seem to stop these involuntary actions of his body.

"As you surely know Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, when two wizards marry, very complicated joining spells are employed that might wed their magic. Now since magic cannot be removed from an individual-one never runs out of magic-no magic is taken away during the incantation. Instead, both wizards experience what can only be described as a doubling of magic and it is shared between them. You each become as powerful as the most powerful among you along with your own magic thus doubling your powers. This happens very rarely, but with you, Mr. Potter, it is well expected to occur in this instance, thus the trepidation of the Ministry. Now then. It is possible-probable-that each of you will be imbued with twice the magical strength of before. It may make your magic difficult to manage initially and it would be wise to obtain a neutral party-a witch or wizard-who can help retrain you. Now. As for the provisions-" She clasped her hands together and rested them on the table. "We will require certain guarantees that neither of you will perform any Dark Magic. You will be required to come to the Ministry once a year to be examined for any use of Dark magic-"

"Excuse me, Ms. Walsh," said Harry, raising his hand as if he were in class.

She stopped and looked at him with a puzzled expression. Clearly she did not expect to be interrupted.

"How many times would we be required to come to the Ministry to be…um, checked out?"

"As I said, Mr. Potter. Once a year."

"Well…for how many years?"

"Why, for the rest of your lives."

"The rest of our lives!"

"Is there a problem with that?"

Draco touched Harry's arm and Harry looked at him. Draco's shrug seemed to say "if that's what it takes." Harry conceded it. "Okay. I guess."

Walsh looked at her companions before turning back to Harry and Draco. "May I continue?"

"Yes," Harry nodded. "Please."

"Well then. Lastly, we will require witnesses to be brought forth to attest that you are not engaging in any Dark Arts."

Harry looked at Draco. "We can agree to that, can't we?"

Draco stared at the three stoically. "I have absolutely no problem with that."

"Very good. Now. If we may examine your wands."

"What?" Harry squirmed on his chair. "W-what do you want our wands for?"

"We intend to examine them for prior magic. Gentlemen?"

Draco stepped forward first and in a flourish handed over his wand. He smirked at them. "Try to find Dark Magic in that! Piece of cake."

The three first examined the look of the wand and then flicked it, incanting, "Priori Incantatum."

Several innocuous spells seeped from the wand and an inordinate about of Scourgifys. Walsh blushed a little at the cheekbones when she examined just what was being Scourgified so often. Draco didn't blush at all. "We have a very vigorous relationship," he explained proudly and he turned to Harry to confirm it. But his face changed when he looked at Harry.

Harry stood up and moved away as the three examined Draco's wand. "What's the matter, Harry?" asked Draco, following him. "You look like you've seen a very unfriendly ghost."

Harry couldn't speak for a moment. His mouth had gone dry. His heart was pounding mercilessly in his chest. "I can't let them examine my wand," he whispered.

"It will only take a moment. They'll give it back. This is just a little discomfort to get on with it… Harry? Isn't it?"

He looked at Draco, willing him to understand by the seriousness of his eyes. "Draco, you don't understand. I cannot let them examine my wand."

Draco tried to lighten the mood. "What's the matter, Harry? Performing Dark Magic or something?"

He stared at Draco and said nothing. What could he say?

Draco's face fell. He leaned toward Harry. "You didn't! Say you didn't." Harry nodded ever so slightly. "Well-" Draco glanced back at the trio still sucking old spells out of his wand. Fortunately they were distracted enough not to notice their furtive whisperings. "You're Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Naturally you have to deal with a certain amount of Dark Magic, right? What was it? Not an Unforgivable?" Harry shook his head and Draco blew out a relieved breath. "Well then, it can't be that bad. What was it?"

Harry's hands were shaking. He rubbed his sweaty palms down his robes. "Oh Draco. We're in trouble."

"Don't say that, Harry. There hasn't been anything we haven't been able to get out of. I'm sure Dumbledore-"

Harry shook his head. "Not this time. We are really in trouble."

"You're scaring me, Harry. What did you do?"

Harry licked his lips and looked at the floor. He couldn't look at Draco. He just couldn't. All their hopes would suddenly be dashed and they would most likely end up in Azkaban for their trouble. Softly, almost inaudibly, he said, "I created a Dark Mark."

"YOU WHAT!"

He whipped his head back to the examining trio who looked up sharply at them. Draco tried to mask his faux paux with a hollow laugh. "Just a lover's spat," he said, and quickly turned back to Harry. "What by all that is holy were you doing with magic like that?"

Harry raised his eyes to Draco. A warm lump filled his throat. "I needed to experiment-"

"What the hell for!"

"To get the Dark Mark off of your arm!"

Draco's jaw fell open. "You stupid, wonderful fool."

Harry shrugged. He felt drained, boneless. The last time he was this scared he was facing Voldemort.

Draco recovered quicker, his Slytherin skills no doubt kicking in. "This is what we'll do. We'll tell them I used your wand."

"NO! Absolutely not!"

"It's the only way."

"They'll lock you up and throw away the key!"

"But they'll lock you up if we don't. They'll never let you explain properly. All they'll see is this wizard with some of Voldemort's powers becoming Voldemort again. I don't care. I've been to Azkaban. It's were I'm supposed to be anyway. But not you. Never you. And I won't let you."

"No, Draco. We'll think of something else."

"Well think fast! I think they're done with my wand."

They both turned in time to see Walsh proffer Draco's wand back to him. "A very good wand, Mr. Malfoy. We see no problems." She raised her head to Harry standing across the room. "Mr. Potter?"

Harry froze. What could he do? He had to surrender it. And then they'd know and arrest him. He was done for.

It all happened so quickly, Harry almost saw it as if it were in slow motion. Draco lifted his wand, aimed it at the three examiners, and yelled, "Obliviate!"

Stunned, Harry could only watch helplessly as Draco proceeded to offer the examiners new memories. "You examined both wands and found them fine! Nothing amiss. You gave them both passing…um…marks. You will forget nothing prior to that. Only the wands. Both wands are fine."

The three examiners sat in their chairs motionless. Their faces had been blank when they were first struck with the spell but slowly expression returned to them. Draco leaned forward. "How is everything?" he asked tentatively.

"Fine," replied Walsh. She narrowed her eyes and looked at the table, trying to remember something. To her right, Simon Featherwood was also looking perplexed and the other wizard Ferdinand Grekelthorn tapped his finger on the table with a faraway expression.

Harry glared at them. To Obliviate one person was hard enough; but to attempt three at a time was exceptional magic. He looked appreciatively at Draco. Maybe he was a little scary.

"It seems," said Walsh after a long pause, "it seems that all is in order. Your wands are… fine."

"Then can we go?" asked Draco already heading for the door. He grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him.

"Yes. Indeed. The receptionist will issue you a certificate."

Draco hurled the door open and stopped cold when the witch stood up. "Gentlemen!" They turned. Was it too good to be true? "On behalf of the Ministry, may I offer you our very best wishes?"

Draco made that hollow laugh again. "Oh yes! Thanks! Wonderful! Cheerio!" He grabbed Harry's hand and ran with him.

Harry halted him long enough to run to the counter and get their certificate. They didn't wait to get to the lobby. They Apparated back to Hogsmeade from the corridor.

* * *

Harry panted. He couldn't believe what they had just done. He looked at Draco who seemed a little less concerned. "That probably wasn't a good idea," said Harry.

"Oh yeah? And creating your very own Dark Mark was such a brilliant one. What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking I'd relieve my fiancé of a rather terrible reminder of his past."

"Well that's…that's…" Draco flushed down his neck. "Really sweet of you. But also bloody stupid. Never-and I mean NEVER are you to mess with Dark Magic again!"

"You can't order me, Malfoy. I am the bloody Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. There may be times-"

He grabbed the front of Harry's robes and hauled him forward. Harry looked down at those fists in surprise. "Listen to me, Harry. I mean it. You can't. Not even a little. Not ever again. Do you understand me?"

Draco's gray eyes were like small glowing brands. Harry couldn't tear his gaze from them. "Tell me why not."

"Do I have to explain it? Do I really?"

"I think you do."

He closed his eyes for a moment and slowly released Harry. When he opened them again his gaze was just as intense as before. "Sometimes you're not as smart as I thought you were. You've got part of Voldemort in you. You have some of his power. What do you suppose is the source of some of that power?"

"There is no good or bad source-"

"Were you asleep during some of your years here, Potter! Yes there is! Where do you think Dark Magic comes from, you idiot? If you open yourself up to Dark Magic there may be no stopping it. You might bloody well become the next Voldemort."

"No-"

"Are you deaf? If you don't believe me, go ask Dumbledore. In fact, go ask him anyway."

"But he's never said-"

"And would you tell you something like that? Because the poor sod believes that Harry effing Potter probably wouldn't be stupid enough to delve into Dark Magic."

"I was only trying to help you!"

"And it was a lovely blatantly Gryffindor gesture. And I love you for it. But I don't care if my arm melts off, I don't want you to do that again. Okay?"

"Okay!" But before Harry could lapse into a full-blown case of sulkiness, Draco rushed him and hugged him fiercely before kissing the air from his lungs. Harry staggered back when he could breathe again. "Maybe we should go talk to Dumbledore right now," he gasped.

"Maybe that would be a good idea."

The two of them hurried from Hogsmeade up to the castle, but before they could reach Dumbledore's office a Prefect waylaid them near the Great Hall. "Sirs, Professor Dumbledore sent me to find you and tell you both to report to the staff room."

"The staff room?" asked Harry, making sure he heard correctly.

"Yes, sir. Both of you."

"How did he know you would find us?"

"I was given to understand, sir, that he told all the Prefects and Heads."

Harry looked at Draco worriedly. They hurried along to the staff room and opened the door. Most all the teachers were there huddled around a table. Dumbledore was in the middle of it all and everyone turned as the door opened.

Dumbledore's face was quite stricken. The last time Harry saw Dumbledore look that way had been in the caves when Harry had to force him to drink the potion that would ultimately reveal a fake Horcrux. What would make Dumbledore look like that?

The teachers stepped aside, and Harry saw what was on the table for the first time. He inhaled a sharp breath and couldn't quite seem to breathe out again.

On the table scratching and clawing hysterically at its matted fur sat the rat with the Gryffindor Dark Mark.

"Harry," said Dumbledore, his voice low and deadly. "Explain this."


On to Chapter Eight
"A Dark Place"

Back to Chapter Six
"Groomsmen"

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