A/N: I seem to write this so often... Again, my apologies for the delay. I hope it's worth it.

Yours forever, Tsona

No one saw Weasley or Granger till three days before the end of term. With classes ended for the fifth years, they avoided others easily. Draco, who while Alana was busy with her own exams, was also avoiding the school and stayed mostly in his own dormitory, where Blaise sometimes joined him, didn't see them till the end-of-term feast. While Kari gabbed to Alana about summer plans, Draco watched the two of them along the table. Granger and Weasley seemed all right, subdued but unscathed. They sat close to each other, heads tilted towards one another. Potter didn't join them; Potter had made himself even more scarce than his friends had.

"What do you think happened? Have you heard anything?" he asked.

"What?" Alana and Kari both looked around at him.

"With Potter. And the others."

Kari shook her head. "Tight-lipped, the lot of them. Ginny even. Luna even. You haven't heard-"

"I've heard nothing," Draco confirmed.

"I think they were at the Ministry that night," Kari confided. "Something happened. Did you see the blurb in the paper this morning? It was short, but it said Sirius Black died that night. No details, but I think-"

"Black died?"

"Yeah."

"He was Potter's godfather..."

Kari missed a beat. Alana blinked. Kari asked, "So, Harry wouldn't have taken him down fighting You-Know-Who?"

"How do you know that?" Alana asked Draco.

"All pureblood families are related. Mine happens to be pretty close to the Blacks. My mother was a Black."

"So whose side was Black on, then, if he was Harry's godfather?"

"So far as I know, Black was a pretty nice bloke and was an easy target for the blame. Mother never talked much about the, ah, less traditionally-minded members of the family and Black was never looked on well by the Blacks. To his credit, I think."

"Poor man!" Alana cried. "He was innocent? He wasn't a Death Eater?"

"Well-"

"They're calling Potter 'The Chosen One,' " Kari continued, watching Draco carefully. "They say You-Know-Who was after one of the prophecies at the Ministry, that the prophecy says Potter's the only one who can get rid of him."

Draco started and Kari beamed.

"No," he hurried, "I don't know if that's- I just had heard something about-" Draco was thinking about what Snape had said: "The Dark Lord heard a prophecy, Draco, sixteen years ago, a prophecy which concerned one boy who could be his downfall-" "Potter." "The Dark Lord puts much store in prophecy." But Snape had certainly implied that the Dark Lord knew about that particular prophecy; he had done- whatever he had done to Draco based on his hearing it. So surely it couldn't be the same one? Maybe The Prophet was wrong. It would hardly be the first time...

"You think Potter is 'The Chosen One'?" Kari pressed.

"I think there's more to it than The Prophet thinks," Draco answered truthfully after a moment, reaching for a roll and the jam to have something to do, something that would hide the still fading tremor in his hands.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Just more. It can't be that simple."

The next morning, the students of Hogwarts were taken by horseless carriage to the train station in the village. The scarlet engine sat waiting for them on the tracks, shrouding the shoddy station in great, billowing clouds of steam, and by nine o'clock Draco was being borne away to a summer holiday with the Weasleys.

He and Blaise had found a compartment by themselves and were spending languid hours on games of wizard's chess, which Draco won almost as a rule. It wasn't until after one o'clock that the door slid open and Alana stepped in, looking exhausted.

"Where've you been, Gryff?" Draco asked as he prodded his knight forward toward Blaise's pawn, which glared defiantly at the advancing conqueror.

"Talking to Ginny," Alana answered in a would-be-casual tone and coming to sit down beside him. "Trying to convince her to give you a chance this summer."

"How'd it go?" Draco asked tentatively, although from the look on her face, he was pretty sure he could guess.

Alana sighed and shook her head, dropping her act. "No luck whatsoever. She was in a compartment with Ron and Harry, who told me if I was there on your behalf, I'd do better talking to the wall."

"But you stayed?"

Alana offered him a weak smile. "Even if I talked to a wall, they couldn't help overhearing. And I think Hermione might actually have been listening with some interest, maybe even Neville. And Luna put in a word for you. But Ginny told me Snape would hand out candy before she'd trust you."

"Ah, well, can't blame them- any of them," Draco said with a sigh. He looked down in time to watch his knight drag Blaise's kicking and screaming pawn from the board.

"Draco!" Alana whined in protest.

"I don't expect them to forgive me. I really don't deserve it."

"But-"

Draco smiled, "Really, Gryff. I've already got two more friends than I ever thought I'd have."

The sun was on the horizon when the steam engine pulled into King's Cross.

"Well," Blaise said as he, being tallest, pulled down the luggage, "you can't say it hasn't been an interesting year."

"No," Draco agreed, hurrying forward to catch the end of one of the trunks and help Blaise lower it to the ground.

"Things were pretty dull till you turned up."

"Well, Blaise, so long as I made your year."

"Oh shut up," but he was smiling.

Alana inched up to Draco and slipped her hand into his.

"Wait," Blaise said, throwing up a hand, "before you start snogging-" He bent over and flicked open his trunk. From inside he pulled a book and tossed it at Draco, who surprised, almost missed it, only caught it by reflex. "Still could be Seeker," Blaise mused.

Draco turned over the book. "What is it? I mean, specifically," he added, before Blaise could make a sarcastic retort.

"Novel," Blaise said. "Muggle novel," he relented. "Thomas gave-" Seeing Draco's blank look, he added, "Thomas was one of my mum's husbands. He gave it to me. He thought I was woefully undereducated." Blaise cracked a smile. "Say what you like against Muggles, but their literature is better."

Alana peered at the spine. "Treasure Island," she read. She straightened with a grin. "I've heard of that one."

Draco shook his head, with a smile. "How did I ever find myself in the company of such Muggle-lovers? God," Draco realized with a start, "my father would have me killed if he knew. Wouldn't even do it himself- wouldn't want to sully his hands with my tainted blood." He thought he felt a limb-stiffening cold steal over him as he looked at Blaise and Alana. "Maybe I should just stay on the train... Ride it back to Hogwarts... I mean, Dumbledore couldn't turn me out, could he? I don't mind being in that castle by myself... and there'll be the house-elves..."

Alana reached over to take him by the arm. "Come on," she said tugging him after her toward the door. "I don't think delaying this is going to make it any easier."

"But-"

Blaise shrugged as Draco was towed past him and out into the corridor. Blaise cleverly made the trunks follow them and they landed with a heavy bang behind Alana and Draco on the platform.

Draco raised his wand and three trolleys started racing one another toward them.

"Hey! Fifth year!"

The trolleys screeched to a halt as Draco turned to see one of the Hufflepuff prefects not far from them.

"No magic outside school!"

Draco rolled his eyes and, with a pathetic look at his friends, went by foot to retrieve the panting carts. "I'll be so glad to turn seventeen," he muttered as he returned, the trolleys banging into one another, making an awful racket as he tried to steer all three.

"Thanks, Draco," Blaise said, taking one of the trolleys. He hoisted his trunk up onto it, then looked at the two of them. "Well, I suppose, then, I'll see you in September." He held out his hand. "I hope it's not as bad as you expect," he said as he and Draco shook hands.

"I don't think it will be," Alana told him, as she too took his hand. He lifted it to his lips and released her, Alana blushing, to cock a grin at Draco who felt a frown pulling without his permission at his mouth.

"I was raised well too," Blaise reminded him.

"In new money," Draco allowed. "But, I suppose I do trust you." The thought lifted the frown.

Blaise grinned in return. "Means a lot from you. Wouldn't dare cross the ex-Death Eater," Blaise laughed, ducking away. "Goodbye," he called as he wheeled the trolley away toward the crowd now pushing at the barrier. "Good luck!"

He left Draco staring after him, fighting off another frown.

"Never mind him," Alana said, pulling at his hand.

"You'll write me?" Draco asked as he followed her.

"Of course."

"I'll count on it," Draco warned.

"Just make sure you leave the bedroom occasionally, all right?"

Draco stopped, dragging Alana to a halt too.

"What?"

"Do you think I'll have to share a room? I never could. Not with Ron."

Alana frowned. "Not with Ron," she agreed. "I think if the Weasleys value their house they'll know better than that."

"But it must be such a small house," Draco mused, allowing himself to be towed forward again, but still dragging his feet.

"Compared to your manor. Compared to mine, I think it's quite large. It fits a family of nine, after all."

They crossed through the barrier into Muggle King's Cross and were jostled by a large group of teenaged Muggles towing suitcases on wheels. Draco looked up. Beyond the ticket barrier, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's red heads were bright as fire in the shafts of sunlight that struck them from behind. With them was Remus Lupin, a young woman with short, pink hair, and Mad-Eye Moody in a lime-green bowler. Draco looked quickly away. "They've brought an Auror," he mumbled. "They've brought Moody."

"I'm sure he isn't here for you."

Draco was unconvinced. He kept his eyes turned away from Moody, not wanting to be spotted, and away from Alana, not wanting her to see his doubt.

"King's Cross isn't exactly the most secure place. Maybe he's here to protect us all from-"

Draco started. "Mother!"

"What?"

Draco stared. His mother stood beyond the barrier too, looking frail and willowy alone, wearing a long black gown that made the white hair falling into her eyes, her face seem pale as a deadman's skin. She was some distance away from Moody and, from the uncomfortable glances she kept shooting the Auror, she was intentionally so.

"Alana," Draco whispered. "My mother's here."

"What? Where? Why?" Alana asked, turning to look.

Draco's mother looked up, her eyes met Draco's across the crowded platform and, with a ghost of a smile, she started forward.

Draco swore. "Alana," he said, grabbing her arms and tugging her around, turning her back toward his mother, hiding her face, "you have to go."

"But- Will you be all right?"

"It'll be fine. I know what I have to do- what I can't do. Just-"

Alana leaned forward and caught his lips in a kiss. "Write me back," she said, pulling away. "If I don't hear from you, I'll-" she paused, bit her lip in thought, "I'll write The Prophet. I'll tell them everything and they'll have to send someone to save you."

Draco caught at her wrist again, pulled her back. "Never-" he said, "you can't tell anyone- Alana-"

"How will I save you- how will you get out of there if-"

"It'll be all right," he said again. "But you can't- ever." Over her shoulder, he could see his mother frowning as a family hurried by in front of her. "Go," he said again. "Please."

They clasped hands until the last second, their fingertips parting reluctantly. Alana watched him over her shoulder as she walked away, as she was beckoned on by Kari Ollivander, who, spotting Draco beyond her, gave him a wave and a grin before hurrying over to her parents.

Draco's mother was nearly upon him when he looked back.

"Mother," he said.

She came up to him and her paperwhite perfume seemed to fog his head, to wrap itself around him like a snake's coils. She held out her hand. "Draco. My Draco."

Draco flinched. "Don't call me that." It was the Dark Lord's name for him. He didn't take the hand she offered.

"You would deny your own mother?"

"I have to. Mother, what are you doing here?"

"What do you think I'm doing here? Why am I here every June? I've come to fetch you. To bring you home."

Draco was surprised when the words stuck in his throat, when they came out only painfully, only smally, pulled from him. "I'm not coming with you. I can't," he rasped.

"Draco-"

He tried to inject some confidence into his tone, lifted his head. "I've made up my mind, Mother. I know what I'm doing."

Her eyes narrowed, her expression hardened as she withdrew her hand. "I don't think you do."

"I do. I know who sent you here. I know why."

"You don't believe I could have come on my own?"

"Even if you did, which I don't think you have, you couldn't keep me from him, Mother. And I'm not going back to him. I have to run. I have to go where he won't look."

"Who do you think can protect you? Who better than your own mother?"

"Mother, you're too close to him. You can't escape him, either. I can't tell you. If I tell you, he'll find out and then..."

The anger fell from his mother's expression to be replaced by concern. She had always been beautiful in sadness; she was now. "Draco," she whispered, leaning toward her son, clasping a small hand on his shoulder, "you have to come with me. If you say you understand, surely then you understand- He wants you, Draco. He's sent me to fetch you. If I don't come back with you- He's already furious with our family. First you ran and then your father- Won't you come? For my sake?"

Draco couldn't keep the pain from his own face either. "Tell him you tried, Mother. Tell him I refused. He won't be surprised."

"He doesn't accept excuses. Draco, he'll-"

"Mother." Draco stepped back. Her nails dug for a moment into his shoulder before she let go.

"Where- where will you go?" she asked, her voice higher than usual, her eyes darting between each of his.

"Mother-" Draco closed his eyes, shut out the sight of her fear.

"Draco- he's taken your father from me already-"

"Father'll be back," Draco reminded her, a little bitterly. "If he broke into Azkaban once-"

"I couldn't bear to lose you too."

"Then you have to let me go, Mother. It's my only chance. I can buy time if he can't find me. But I'm not joining him. I can't do what he'll ask. And he- he has no use for a broken wand," he said, repeating something the Dark Lord had once said to him. "Mother-"

She stared at him, her eyes wide, dark in her pale face. After several minutes, she nodded. "Go," she said, her voice breaking. "Go. I'll turn around."

"I'd rather you left altogether. That way you won't be tempted and you can't-"

"All right," she moaned. "All right. Just..." She caught his shoulders, held him, looking desperate. "Just be careful," she finished, her hands prying themselves from him. She turned and disappeared, not even bothering about the Muggle crowd.

Draco closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and turned away.

"Where is she, boy?"

His eyes sprang open.

Mad-Eye Moody was leaning on a long staff, his green bowler askew over his magical eye. Draco didn't like not knowing where he was looking anymore than he liked watching the eye spin. He felt just as uneasy.

"I don't know," he said truthfully. "Gone."

Moody looked at the place where Draco's mother had been. "Seems that might be best for you. From what Dumbledore's told us."

"What're you doing here?" Draco was surprised by his own audacity, but was pretty sure Moody wouldn't turn him into a ferret in the middle of the crowded train station.

His crooked gash of a mouth looked even more sinister when he grinned. "Favor. For Potter."

"Potter asked you to come? To keep an eye on me?"

"Nah. Coming was Remus' idea."

Draco let his eyes slip past Moody to where Professor Lupin was now shaking hands with Ron. Ginny hung onto her father's hand. He was talking to a man and woman who had come forward out of the Muggle crowd. Fred and George were laughing with the pink-haired witch. Potter was wrapped in Mrs. Weasley's embrace.

Moody continued, "And while I was here, I thought I'd keep an eye on you. And a wand on your mother. Dumbledore wasn't sure if you'd get out of here easily."

"If you were worried, why'd you let her come near me at all?"

Moody grinned again and Draco fought the instinct to draw back. "Call it morbid curiosity. I wanted to see who would win."

"My mother or I?"

"Dumbledore or your old master. Believe me, I'd have acted if I had to. I'd rather modify memories now than have to try and steal from You-Know-Who later, but-"

"I wasn't going to go with her. I said I'd go with the Weasleys and I will."

"I heard the end of it, boy. Once you had her distracted enough that I could get nearer. Come on," he growled before Draco could question him further. "You said you'd go to them. Then we can get on with it."

"You don't trust me," Draco said as he followed Moody along the platform.

Moody chuckled. "There are very few people I do trust- very few, and you, Malfoy, are not one of them."

Potter stiffened in Mrs. Weasley's embrace as they approached. Maybe he had heard the offbeat clunk of Moody's wooden leg, but he pulled himself away from Mrs. Weasley and turned on Draco, already glaring. Draco stopped, staring back, startled. Had Potter seen Moody move toward him? Was that how he had known Draco was nearby?

Mrs. Weasley looked from Potter to Draco and cleared her throat. "Draco," she said, moving forward and extending her hand. "It's nice to meet you."

Draco looked at the hand. It was badly callused and there was earth beneath her fingernails. He hesitated before taking it and let her go quickly. "Mrs. Weasley." He added, only a little grudgingly, "Thank you for inviting me."

"Of course," she returned, but she was eyeing him carefully and with a growing disquiet.

Draco looked around at the others. He needed her, if not to like him, then to trust him at least. He needed some opportunity to ingratiate himself, some opening in the conversation. The Weasley children looked back at him with open dislike and distrust. Mr. Weasley was uncomfortably not meeting his eye again, nor was Lupin. Granger was biting her lip and the two adults behind her, whom Draco now guessed to be her parents (the man had a hand on her shoulder), looked at him in open confusion and a little curiosity. The pink-haired witch seemed even more curious. He felt like an animal on exhibit, pulled forward by a chain.

"Well- shall we do it, then?" Mr. Weasley said at last.

"Yeah, I reckon so, Arthur."

Draco jumped a little. He'd almost forgotten Mad-Eye Moody was behind him.

Mr. Weasley and Moody walked away and the majority of the crowd went with them, leaving only Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, the twins, Granger's parents, and Draco behind. Draco was remembering what Ron had said about strength in numbers as he watched them all walk away. Potter looked back over his shoulder as he went. Fred and George nodded to him before he looked away and the twins as one turned their glares on Draco, who turned his eyes to the floor.

In a few minutes, they all returned, except Potter and Moody. They were still too many for Draco. The pink-haired witch and Lupin were invited to dinner. Both politely refused. Granger hugged everyone goodbye and left with her parents.

"Draco?"

The Weasleys had begun to follow and he was still staring at his boots.

"Yes. Coming." His spirits were not lifted as he left the station for the sunny Muggle street, the warm London air, and were crushed even more by the Muggle taxis awaiting them.

A/N: I took a few liberties with that last section, but it does of course line up with the final chapter of OotP, "The Second War Begins." Actually, these last two chapters have done so. I guess I wanted more space than JKR, who owns all of these characters, these brilliant situations. Mine are Draco's and Blaise's reactions- and Alana and Kari. If you'll allow me a small dance? I've been to King's Cross Station now. Often. I've even been to 9 3/4! I went and peeked at the space between platforms 9 and 10 (which is not where the sign for 9 3/4 has been erected) just for you before finishing up this final scene. :) Now, I realized not too long ago that if I plan on writing my original novel for my thesis project this upcoming school year, I really ought not to actually write any more of it this summer (in theory, theses start from a clean slate, but in actuality...). So, my lucky readers, I will be continuing my revisions with the sequel to this fanfiction, And Then There Nine for the remainder of the summer. Updates will not be sent out via fanfiction's alert system till after chapter 12 (every fanfiction I have set out to revise has also ended up longer than its original, so I expect this one might as well become longer), but I will post in the summary of the story how far I have gotten in the edits. Cheers! And happy reading! (And reviewing perhaps? Please?)

Yours forever, Tsona