Leif frowned as he read the acquisition request for the third time. It was a strange request, considering there were effectively no records for the entire department, not officially anyway, as well as it simply didn't make sense. Officially or unofficially, no such thing existed that was being requested. It was also strange due to the requester, but not because of who they were alone. No, requests from the Minister were common. However, requests about the Hall of Prophecies from the Minister who had been acting extremely unlike himself was strange...and concerning, quite frankly.

Why would Fudge be so interested in the Hall of Prophecies? Sure, Lady Magic's Prophecy was acting differently to other prophecies, but Fudge had never given a damn before. For being the Minister, Fudge had a remarkably lacking interest in virtually the entire Ministry. He relied on departments to handle themselves, far more concerned with Dumbledore, Hogwarts, and the media. He only wanted to be seen as competent, as the one holding the wizarding world together in the face of the trouble constantly produced by Dumbledore and Hogwarts, and the rest of the Ministry just went with it.

So, why was Fudge investigating the prophecy?

Leif dropped the request, tapping his fingers on the podium as he thought. Something was going on with Fudge and it had to do with the prophecy. By extension, it had to do with Harry and, likely, Draco and Severus. He glanced at the request again and then quickly left the Archives, hopping on the lift to the top floor.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, giving polite smiles, nods, and hellos to each employee that joined and left him on the lift as he climbed. He hid his anxiety as the lift stopped on every floor, drawing out his own journey. He was startled, though he didn't show it, when he was joined by Barlow the Unspeakable. The man stood pressed against the back of the lift beside him, standing perfectly straight and silent with his hands clasped in front of him. Leif shot him a confused look out the corner of his eye. The Department of Mysteries was on the Level Nine. Where was Barlow going?

Eventually, they were one floor away, and it was only him and Barlow on the lift. He watched Barlow draw his wand and tap the panel with the floor numbers, making it shimmer and the lift come to a stop. He turned to Barlow with a raised eyebrow.

"The department has a leak," Barlow said.

"Aside from you?" Leif said sardonically.

Barlow glared at him. "Considering Fudge just asked about a very specific prophecy by name the other day, I'd say, yes, aside from me."

Leif's eyes turned sharp. "What are you talking about?"

Barlow huffed and crossed his arms. "Fudge is fishing for information, but it's Fudge, so he's fishing because someone is telling him to. The fact that he asked for a prophecy by name means whoever is telling him to ask has someone in the department giving him the information Fudge needs to get more."

"Fudge is being controlled?" Leif said.

"Not that he hasn't always been, but it's escalated," Barlow said. "Someone else is after the prophecy."

"Which prophecy?"

"Which do you think?" Barlow said, somewhat snappishly. "It's not like there's multiple prophecies glowing, expelling waves of magic, and shaking the entire hall."

Leif cursed quietly and ran his fingers through his hair in agitation before turning back to Barlow. "What was Fudge asking for?"

"Transcript," Barlow said simply.

"What?"

"The transcript of Lady Magic's Triad Prophecy," Barlow clarified. "It has the symbol that tells if a prophecy has a recorded transcript."

"Prophecies don't have transcripts," Leif said, feeling his heart pound a little harder.

"They do if someone heard the prophecy when it was spoken," Barlow said. "They're created automatically and go to a part of the Archives no one knows about, not even the resident Archivist. No one knows about them."

"Except Unspeakables," Leif said and Barlow nodded.

"They're coming after you, Marcus. They want in the Archives," Barlow said. "Whoever is controlling Fudge wants this transcript."

"Why? Why go after a transcript?"

"Because only those a prophecy is about can touch a prophecy and hear it," Barlow said. "Anyone can touch and read the transcript."

Leif cursed again. "Who's the leak?"

"Bode," Barlow said. "I don't know if he's a willing leak or not."

"Depends on who's after the information," Leif said.

"And that is where my knowledge ends," Barlow said. "I've given you all I know. Do with it what you will, but leave me out of it."

Barlow tapped the lift panel again and they moved for a few seconds before stopping again, the doors opening.

"Have a good day, Mr. Marcus," Barlow said as one of Fudge's assistants-Milly, a tiny, young thing-stepped onto the lift with an armful of files and scrolls.

"Mr. Barlow," Leif said, inclining his head and stepping off the lift. He watched the doors close, Barlow giving him an extremely significant look until their contact was cut.

He stared down the corridor at the single door at the end, a desk on either side, one empty and one occupied by the other Minister's assistant. He was unsure what to do now, his mind racing with Barlow's information. Someone wanted Lady Magic's Prophecy and was using Fudge to get it, but why? Who would want a prophecy that, until July, hadn't even been known of?

He needed to look at the request again now he knew what he did. He turned back to the lift, tapping his wand to the wall panel to call it. He shoved his hands back in his pockets to avoid fidgeting as he waited. He was startled again, and, again fought to hide the reaction, when someone suddenly stood next to him. Out the corner of his eye, he eyed the sleek, black cane with its silver snake head hidden beneath long, slender fingers, two with very distinctive rings.

"Lucius," Leif greeted stiffly.

"Mr. Marcus," Lucius said. "A surprise to see you so far from your...parchments."

"Yes, I thought I needed to speak to the Minister about an error, but the error was mine as it turns out," Leif said, both of them stepping onto the lift.

"For the best," Lucius said. "The Minister is quite busy of late."

Leif hummed. "Something you are assisting with? I wasn't aware of any issues in need of your...expertise." He gave the blonde a poignant look with a raised eyebrow.

"Not in an official capacity," Lucius said, "but, as you know, the Minister and I are quite close. I am a confidante for Ministry matters."

Illegal release of information, Fudge, but I can't say I'm surprised, Leif thought, rolling his eyes to himself.

"Anything to do with the Department of Mysteries' ruckus?" Leif said, a tiny alarm going off in the back of his head. "Or is it Hogwarts?"

Lucius turned to look at him, an odd glint in his grey eyes, so like and unlike Draco's. "How is my son, Mr. Marcus?"

Leif stiffened.

"I only ask because I have heard that you've been seen spending quite a lot of time with the boy," Lucius said. "He's hiding from me, you see, throwing a tantrum. I await the end of it so I might punish him appropriately."

Leif's eyes narrowed. "I don't think I'd call it a tantrum so much as a personal bid for freedom."

"I can only imagine what he's told you," Lucius said and gave an exaggerated sigh. "Always so imaginative that boy."

Leif said nothing. What could he say?

The lift stopped at the atrium and the doors opened.

"I'll have him back, Mr. Marcus," Lucius said with a smile that was closer to a smirk. "Fate is a funny thing. Good day."

Leif just stared as the regal blonde left the lift and the doors closed again. He was impatient as he waited to reach Level Ten, nearly dashing off when he finally arrived. He hurried down the corridor and into the Archives, digging through the parchments for the Minister's request. Finally, he found it, and read it once again.

Acquisition request for history record and transcript of Lady
Magic's Triad Prophecy in the Hall of Prophecies in the 
Department of Mysteries.

Requested by Cornelius Fudge,
Minister for Magic

As he looked up from the request, he noticed a new one sitting on the podium. He moved another parchment to reveal the whole thing, reading it with wide eyes.

Acquisition request for history records on natural Elemental Magic, 
natural Aether Magic, and users from the Ancient Magic Archives 
in the Archive Department.

Requested by Cornelius Fudge,
Minister for Magic

Leif swore loudly, crumpling the requests unintentionally as his fists clenched. Fudge knew about Harry and Draco's magic, and about the prophecy, which meant his puppet master also knew. They didn't know who the Elemental and Aetherion were, though, explaining why they needed the records. They couldn't get them; no one could know about Harry and Draco, not until the prophecy was fully activated by them.

But who? Who was controlling Fudge? Who would want such information?

"Fate is a funny thing."

"Leif?"

Leif's head snapped up to find Alexei gazing at him with clear concern through the Archives' bars. The world was spinning in a way Leif hadn't experienced in decades.

"Leif, what's going on?" Alexei asked, clearly worried. "Let me in."

Leif pulled his wand and tapped the smooth, gold panel. The bars morphed to allow the vampire through and he gestured for Alexei to follow him, leading the way to his office. Inside, he immediately closed the door, leaning against it.

"Leif?" Alexei said again.

"We have a problem," Leif said, snorting at himself at how understated that was.

"What is it?" Alexei asked.

"Fudge is being controlled to gather information about the prophecy," Leif said. "He knows the prophecy is about an Elemental and an Aetherion."

"What?" Alexei breathed, eyes wide. "Who? Why?"

"I think it may be Lucius Malfoy," Leif said, remembering the man's words again. "Which means..."

"Voldemort," Alexei said in realization.

"And I can guarantee that's why Umbridge is at Hogwarts," Leif said. "She's investigating to find who could be the ones the prophecy speaks of. She is doing what Fudge tells her and Fudge is being told what to investigate."

"Harry," Alexei said. "It's why she's targeting him."

Leif nodded. "The two prophecies were connected all along. Trelawney's Prophecy was the new path when no Elemental and Aetherion appeared at the same time as a dark lord. It would have been the real one, but, by voiding it, Lady Magic's Prophecy became real as their magic came alive. Voldemort still believes Trelawney's, but will likely believe the Elemental or Aether Magic is the power Trelawney's Prophecy speaks of. He wants Lady Magic's Prophecy and transcripts to compare and align both prophecies."

"Transcripts?" Alexei said, confused.

"Barlow told me," Leif said. "When someone hears a prophecy at the time it's spoken, a transcript is automatically created and hidden in a secret part of the Archives that not even I knew about. Only Unspeakables know about them."

"So, both prophecies have transcripts and Lucius Malfoy wants them to give to Voldemort,"

Alexei said and Leif nodded. "That means..."

"Lucius is coming after me," Leif said, his voice just as grave as Alexei's face.

"And Harry and Draco are in even more danger," Alexei added.

Leif sighed and let his head fall back against the door, swearing loudly in his mind.

"Hey, Potter!" Draco called as Potter made to follow his team into their change room. The Gryffindor paused and turned to him. Draco jogged just slightly to get to Potter quicker, ignoring the glares he could feel burning into him from his teammates. He held out his hand which Potter took almost immediately. "Good luck, but the match is mine."

Potter smirked. "Don't make promises you have no hope in keeping, Malfoy."

Draco smirked back and they released each other, heading opposite directions to follow their teams into their change rooms. Draco's smirk dropped as soon as he was in the room, faced with the hateful glares of his entire team. He sighed, but kept his face stoic, changing in tense silence.

He had a bad feeling going into the match. His team was made up of people who wanted him dead, after all. He just had no way of knowing if they would act during the match or after. Both would be perfectly viable scenarios.

He pushed the thoughts down, determined to focus on the match. It was the first Quidditch match of the year, and the first time he and Potter would be against each other since the changes in their relationship. They weren't going in as enemies, but as tentative friends.

He pulled on his gloves and went to the cupboard to grab his broom, still infinitely glad Snape had willing risked his life to retrieve his belongings, few though they were, from Malfoy Manor that summer. As he grabbed his broom, he was roughly shoulder-checked, making him fall against the cupboard door. He righted himself and glared at Crabbe and Goyle who sneered at him, grabbing their own brooms and Beater bats.

"Watch your back, traitor," Goyle said.

"No one to protect you in the air," Crabbe said.

Draco watched with hard eyes as his team lined up at the door, standing at the back of them. His fingers tightened on his broom and he tried to calm his anxiety, trying not to think of what his team might try to do. They were right; no one could help him in the air. Stamping down his nerves, he mounted his broom and soared onto the pitch with his team as their door opened and they were introduced.

The Gryffindors were already there in their places, waiting as the Slytherins circled the pitch. Draco spotted Snape as he flew past the teachers' stand and was sure he saw a small nod of acknowledgement. His lips twitched, trying to smile. Potter had told him about his breakdown in Occlumency and Snape's response. It surprised him, but it also inspired hope in him that just maybe they could somehow get back what they'd had in the summer. Leif and Alexei were beside Snape and both smiled encouragingly at him. He swung around and came to a stop above the Slytherin team, hovering across the pitch from Potter. Even from their distance, Draco still met Potter's eyes, and he received a nod and smirk from the Gryffindor. Chuckling to himself, he responded in the same way. They were apparently friends now, but they wouldn't be going easy on each other.

"Welcome back, Hogwarts!" Lee Jordan said enthusiastically into the microphone. "Here we are, finally back at it! Our first Quidditch match in over a year and, of course, it's between Slytherin and Gryffindor! Sure to be an explosive start to the season!"

The students cheered loudly. Draco grinned when he saw McGonagall say something to Snape, making the man's eyes roll, only for Leif to also say something. Alexei clearly laughed while Snape shook his head, both amused and not with his friends.

Jordan introduced the teams, Slytherin being virtually all new players and Gryffindor with their new Keeper. Madam Hooch flew up then, going over the rules, demanding a clean game, and making the captains-Isaac Claimorn and Angelina Johnson-shake hands. Hooch waved her wand, the Bludgers and the Snitch flying up into the air while the Quaffle floated into Hooch's hands. Claimorn flew off to Slytherin's hoops, replaced by Cassius Warrington in the center of the pitch facing Johnson.

The whistle was blown, the Quaffle thrown, and the game began.

Draco surged forward at the same time as Potter and they flew past each other, exchanging another grin as they went. Draco flew more leisurely above everyone else, eyes darting around for the Snitch while also keeping aware of the match's progression. The Quaffle was travelling back and forth across the pitch, but no goals being made just yet. Draco dropped down, coming more in line with the rest of the game to search for the Snitch lower. He drifted to the side as Gryffindor's Alicia Spinnet went racing by, Quaffle under her arm, only to wobble as Emmett Vaisey swiped past after her, knocking into Draco slightly.

He steadied himself and scowled after Vaisey, a part of him sure the side-swipe had been done on purpose. Cheers and boos erupted as Katie Bell managed to get a goal past Claimorn.

Draco wasn't too concerned, it was only the first goal of the game. Plus, he found himself distracted from the racing Chasers as he rolled to avoid a Bludger, only to have to roll again when Crabbe, looking directly at him, hit the Bludger back at him. Upright, he glared at Crabbe as the other boy flew off, viciously hitting Bludgers at the Gryffindors. Draco couldn't help but wince when one of those Bludgers skimmed the side of Spinnet's head, throwing her off balance and making a hand slap briefly to the new gash as it bled.

He started flying again, spotting Johnson as she soared to the Slytherin hoops beneath him. More cheers and boos as the Quaffle flew past Claimorn again, with the Gryffindor cheers becoming angry yells as Vaisey flew hard into Johnson's side, clearly trying to knock her off her broom. Their shift back to cheers was quick as Johnson threw her own shoulder into Vaisey's chest and then an elbow into his throat. Vaisey spiralled to the ground with a hand on his throat, choking for air. He recovered before hitting the ground and, rejoining the ongoing match, Draco could see the fury blazing in Vaisey's eyes.

The game continued, Draco circling the pitch for the Snitch while frequently dodging and recovering from attacks from his own team. The attacks were random enough and seemed to be normal Quidditch action so no one realized it was all deliberate. He avoided and warded off Bludgers and side-swipes and broom nicks and even brief, but threatening chases.

It was after one such swipe attack that had been made complete with a Beater bat to his ribs that made him miss Slytherin's third goal that he suddenly heard a voice.

"Malfoy, you okay?" Potter said and Draco realized the Gryffindor must have used his Air Speak as the other boy was nowhere near him.

Rubbing his ribs and slowly flying around the Gryffindor hoops, Draco looked for Potter. Johnson rushed by to catch the Quaffle blocked by Cormac McLaggen, tossing it to Bell who pulled a maneuver to avoid the oncoming Warrington and Waylon Urquhart. They ended up having to separate and loop around as one of the Weasley twins sent a Bludger hurtling their way. He spotted Potter then, not too far away with the Weasley twin who had hit the Bludger. They seemed to be talking before Weasley took off and Potter looked Draco's way. He saw the question in the Gryffindor's face and he nodded. He received a small smile from Potter before the other Seeker took off again.

He watched as Urquhart body-slammed Bell into a Ravenclaw stand, forcing her to drop the Quaffle which Warrington swiped from below. Warrington raced across the pitch, his way cleared by Vaisey forcing Spinnet to dodge hard to the left to avoid his oncoming attack and Goyle slamming a Bludger into Johnson's thigh. Crabbe sent a second Bludger at McLaggen, lining it up with the thrown Quaffle. McLaggen was forced to dodge and let the goal through, avoiding a Bludger to the head. Slytherin was officially in the lead.

Several more goals by Slytherin were made in the following twenty minutes, bringing them up by sixty points. Despite his team's apparent focus on him, they were still doing well, though, it could also be because of Slytherin's aggressive and borderline illegal techniques.

Draco ducked a Bludger, just to have his eyes catch a glitter along the side of a Gryffindor stand. He immediately pushed his broom to cross the pitch as fast as possible, weaving through and around the other players as they fought for goals. He was close to the stand and could see the Golden Snitch hovering just below the seating area. He reached out an arm just as the Gryffindors in the stand erupted in cheers, telling him Gryffindor had scored. He was about to grab the Snitch when screams above him made him look up just in time to see the Bludger coming his way. He yanked his arm back just as the Bludger soared through that very air, crashing into the Gryffindor stand. A body flew close to him, bumping his back and making him hit the stand in front of him. He looked over his shoulder at the snickering Goyle, making him glare.

Unsurprisingly, the Snitch had disappeared and he rejoined the match with a huff. He hovered off to the side, not far from the teachers' stand, and watched, keeping an eye out for a second chance at the Snitch.

As he watched a play by the Gryffindor team, he had to admit they were far more coordinated and actually worked as a team compared to Slytherin. His team was more focused on what they were doing as individuals, hurting the other team, and, this time at least, attacking Draco. He watched as Johnson flew up the pitch, flanked by the Weasley twins who both hit Bludgers-how they'd timed the Bludgers' placement for this play, Draco didn't know, but he was impressed-at Claimorn while Johnson chucked the Quaffle at the center hoop. The Bludgers zipped by on either side of Claimorn and the hoop, making Claimorn fly down and miss the block, giving Gryffindor another goal.

He ducked, annoyed, when Vaisey flew directly over him. Honestly. If they lost the match, it would be his own team's fault for not just leaving him alone. As he watched, searching for the Snitch, Slytherin scored three more times and Gryffindor twice. Potter also went soaring past at one point.

Draco turned to look at the teachers' stand in case the Snitch was hiding over there and found his eyes instantly drawn to Snape, Leif, and Alexei. All of their faces were tight as they conversed while tracking the game incessantly. When Draco found himself rolling to avoid a Bludger and Potter across the pitch darting up sharply to also avoid a Bludger, he noticed how all three sets of eyes became glued to the two of them.

Draco gasped, in both pain and shock, as a body suddenly collided with him, hard. He was rocked to the side at the impact and found himself tumbling off his broom. He just managed to keep hold with one hand, leaving him dangling precariously. Looking down showed him it had been Bell he'd collided with, only she hadn't been as lucky, falling to the ground. Thankfully, he could see her moving, glad she was alright. He made to reach up with his other hand to grab his broom only for a Bludger to fly at him, threatening to shatter that arm. He dropped his arm, avoiding the injury.

His stomach was churning as he dangled and spotted Crabbe grinning evilly at him. He knew then Crabbe had somehow been responsible for his collision with the Gryffindor Chaser. He moved again to grab his broom with his other hand only for Crabbe to send another Bludger his way. He cursed, but kept reaching despite the Bludger's trajectory heading directly for his right shoulder. He almost had his fingers around his broom when the Bludger smashed into his shoulder.

He cried out, expecting to hit the ground, only to have a sharp tug on his other shoulder and a hand wrapped around his wrist. He looked up to see the Weasley twins returning Bludgers at Crabbe and Goyle, and Potter holding onto him. Potter had saved him from falling and the twins had stopped them from being bombarded by the Bludgers.

"Are you okay?" Potter asked.

"Fine!" Draco said loudly over the spectator noise.

"Good!" Potter called back. "Come on, get back up!"

Potter pulled on his arm and Draco forced his other arm to rise despite the agony in his shoulder. He grabbed his broom with both hands and was able to swing his leg over, finally reseating. He looked at Potter who grinned at him.

"We may have just given them all heart attacks," Potter said, nodding over Draco's shoulder.

Draco turned to look at the teachers' stand and found Snape, Leif, and Alexei talking furiously to each other, their faces even tighter than before. He turned back to Potter with his own grin.

"Snape, at least, shouldn't have expected anything else," Draco said and Potter laughed.

"I dare you to tell him that," Potter said.

"I like living, thanks," Draco said and Potter laughed again.

"Well, glad you're alright, but," Potter spun on his broom, "Snitch is mine."

Potter took off and Draco immediately followed, seeing the small golden flash near the right-hand Gryffindor hoop. Draco ignored the pain in his shoulder, pushing his broom as fast as it could go and weaving through players again. He yanked himself to the left to avoid Warrington who tried to shoulder-check him as he passed. He heard cheers as he slowly caught up to Potter, telling him Gryffindor had scored again. They neared the hoop and the Snitch zipped away. Potter flew through the hoop while Draco went around, ending up just on Potter's tail as they spiralled up after the little golden ball. The Snitch suddenly darted behind them and Potter did a quick loop to change direction. Unable to pull his broom in such a way due to his shoulder, Draco had to make a sharp turn instead.

He raced forward, catching up to Potter again. They soared around the pitch, weaving through the stands as they inched closer to the Snitch. It darted down, forcing them along a Gryffindor stand and then up along the teachers' stand. It was there, over the professors' heads, that the Snitch darted straight up and Potter followed, but the same motion caused pain to shoot through Draco's shoulder. Hissing at the pain, he watched Potter's hand close around the Snitch and sighed.

Gryffindor had won.

Now that he wasn't distracted by the match, his injuries began to make themselves known and Draco groaned.

"Malfoy!"

Draco turned to see Potter coming towards him.

"That was a good game," Potter said, smiling. "You were good."

Draco smirked, more amused than anything. "Better than you, I just have a team that wants me dead."

Potter laughed, but Draco did catch the look of concern that crossed the Gryffindor's face as he looked at the Slytherins already heading to the ground.

"I'm glad you're okay, but go to the Hospital Wing, yeah?" Potter said. "Don't want that shoulder broken again."

"Agreed," Draco said and Potter turned to fly back to his team. "Potter."

The Gryffindor looked at him again.

"Thanks for helping me," Draco said.

Potter grinned. "Not much of a challenge if you're splattered on the ground."

Draco nodded, also grinning. As Potter left, Draco flew to the ground, heading to the change room. He was about to enter when he was suddenly yanked to the side and dragged around the change room. He was just out of sight of anyone leaving the pitch. A cracking hit to his cheekbone sent him to the ground.

He gasped at the hit, his hand flying to his cheek to quell the pain. He rolled over onto his back to find the Slytherin Quidditch team standing over him. Warrington stepped forward, feet on either side of Draco's legs.

"So, you found help up there after all," Warrington said, "but not now. Silencio."

Draco's eyes widened as the spell fell over him and the rest of the team pulled their wands. The curses began to fly, interspersed with vicious kicks to his ribs and head, all while he fought to scream, but emitted no sound. Any attempt to roll or crawl away was stopped by a curse of a foot. Tears poured down his face as his skin tore and bubbled and sizzled. He screamed silently, cursing his father and his mother and Voldemort and, ultimately, himself for his choices leading him there, for his weakness preventing him from having what he wanted, what he'd almost had.

His eyes drifted shut and he found himself looking at the magical signatures around him. He forced himself to remember his training and forced his magic out, attaching to the core he knew was Warrington. He pulled at the magic, fighting not to drain as Warrington's magic pulsed with every curse cast. He felt the connection build, telling him he could work with Warrington's magic, and, as the magic pulsed again, he shoved his own intent at it. He focused on the counter for the Silencing Charm and saw Warrington's spell change from black to light blue. The spell hit him and, instead of pain, he was suddenly screaming aloud.

"Bloody hell!" he heard Crabbe say.

"How the hell did he break the charm?" Vaisey said.

"What the hell did you do, traitor?" Warrington said, kicking Draco in his ribs again.

Draco cried out again, sobbing, only for his eyes to fly open at a very familiar voice calling him.

"Draco!"