The war brought so much uproar and ruckus at the Ministry because they had been breached by Death Eaters. In the aftermath, Kingsley had acted at once as the Minister for Magic and had gained control over the situation. Since then, both his efforts and the course of action to eradicate the supporters of You-Know-Who had been exemplary and outstanding and continued to do so long afterwards. He had been sending out Aurors day and night to track Death Eaters down and working tirelessly to bring the peace back that the Wizarding World had wanted for so long.

Inside the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, Arthur shuffled his feet while he sat down in his chair. He kept looking at the time, and his growing impatience showed on his face as he continued his work. He had finally received a response from Kingsley about the request he sent a few days ago. Arthur had been told that he would be coming to visit his office right after the interrogations Kingsley had been conducting in one of the smallest courtrooms.

Arthur stood up and paced in his office. He brought his hand over to his chin, thinking, I wonder who he's interrogating right now that's taking him so long? He wanted to talk to Kingsley immediately, and he couldn't wait for him any longer. Harry's health had gotten worse and they needed to act fast. Upon considering his initiatives, he strode out of his office to go to Kingsley's office.

He was greeted by a bunch of people blocking the way in front of the Minister's office. He cursed and made his way to one of the courtrooms to check whether Kingsley was there. The hallway that went from the lifts to the courtrooms had suddenly become eerie and cold because of it being underground. A few Aurors stood guard, so Arthur quickened his paced a little until he reached a door to his left. He was about to knock when the door opened, and Kingsley stepped out looking both tired and irritated. Before the door closed behind him, Arthur momentarily saw a flash of the silver hair of Lucius Malfoy and his family.

"Kingsley," Arthur greeted wearily, dipping his head.

Kingsley nodded back and said in his deep voice, "I'm terribly sorry if it had taken me a long time to get back to you, Arthur. I only just finished interrogating Lucius Malfoy."

"Apology accepted, but nothing to worry," Arthur chuckled. His low whisper took on a serious note, "Finally got Lucius Malfoy to talk?"

"Yes," Kingsley told Arthur and moving farther away from the door. "He says he wants to join forces with our side."

Arthur snorted. "He's probably bluffing. Wouldn't be the first time he'd done it. He didn't want to go back to Azkaban again."

"Exactly my thoughts as well," said Kingsley. "But by the way he said it, I could tell he was really telling the truth."

"He wants to get away, that's all he's after. And bluffing it out is his sure way to go. We all know he's a good liar since he deceived Fudge so many times."

"Well, I'd like to see him try it on me. It would only take him a few seconds to realize bluffs are useless, and he'd be promptly packed off to prison for it." Kingsley's expression grew thoughtful. "But it would be a great advantage if we have Purebloods with big names like 'Malfoy' working for us."

"It's hard to see that happening... but what are his plans since he wants to switch sides? Did he say?" Arthur asked with a curious gaze.

"He said he's willing to give out names of all the Death Eaters and help in tracking them in exchange for his name and his family to be cleared of all charges."

Arthur snorted again. "Well, that sounds like a well-rehearsed excuse. At any rate... We've heard them a million times!" he said in an exasperated tone. "Some of them helped us greatly, but most didn't, so what made his excuse an exception?"

Kingsley smirked. "I simply threatened him. I said I would make his family more infamous in the Daily Prophet early the next day if he chooses to lie, and –" he cleared his throat before continuing, "put all his wealth to the Ministry. That put him in his place, I tell you. I saw his face turn pale when I said it. He wouldn't want 'adoring fans' on his doorstep now and not a single knut in his pocket, would he?"

Arthur couldn't help but laugh at the idea.

"It wouldn't be long now before we have all the Death Eaters in Azkaban," Kingsley said excitedly.

"Well, don't get too excited yet," said Arthur. "I'm sure Lucius will take his precious time, but it won't matter. We still have other pressing matters to discuss."

The door from one of the courtrooms opened and the Malfoy family came out followed by two Aurors. Lucius and Narcissa were in deep conversation and talking in whispers, their son behind them. They were being detained for the time being at the Ministry until the investigations had concluded, while Draco would be put under a tracking spell and undergo a series of disciplinary hearings.

Kingsley's face suddenly turned serious when he saw them, but he turned his attention back to Arthur. "Potter," he whispered. "How is he?".

Arthur shifted uncomfortably. "He's hanging in there," he replied in a solemn voice. "He's still very sick."

Draco glanced up at them.

"I found it rather odd when I read your note," said Kingsley. "You said you needed a piece of the stone from the Veil?"

"I hope it won't be too hard a substance to get?"

"Oh, I'm sure it is... but I'll have the Unspeakables acquire it as soon as possible. But how is the stone going to help Harry?"

"His friends are going to be brewing a potion... and that stone is one of the ingredients," Arthur told him. "I don't know how that's gonna work. It's pretty gross if you ask me."

Kingsley grimaced, "And Harry needs to drink that?"

"I suppose so."

They stood silent for a moment until they saw the Aurors escort the Malfoy family past them. Draco gave them both a lingering look as he tailed behind his parents.

Arthur raised his eyebrows at the boy.

Kingsley asked Arthur the moment the Malfoys disappeared around a corner. "To ensure his privacy, I would want to personally hand the stone to Harry once we get it. Is he well enough?"

"I'm sure it's fine. He trusts you in the Order anyway," and Arthur added swiftly, "he looks up to you as a former Auror. I believe he wants to be one as well."

Kingsley smiled. "Well, I look forward to seeing him at the Auror's Headquarters soon. He's got more skills than most of the Aurors we have. He could probably be the next Head of the Aurors, even at such a young age, wouldn't you agree?"

"I'm sure he'd be flattered and take that as a compliment. Even I can't wait to see what he can do for the wizarding world."

Kingsley's eyes brightened when a sudden idea crossed his mind. "I wouldn't be surprised if he one day became a minister."

Arthur laughed. "I don't think Harry would want that. He despises fame and popularity. He wouldn't want to draw more attention to himself. But I have to say, that's a good possibility."

Kingsley chuckled. "I won't jump on to that conclusion just yet, then."

Mr. Weasley was about to go home later that afternoon. On his way back to his office, he noticed Draco Malfoy standing outside. The boy was thin, with dark shadows under his eyes and a greyish tinge to his skin. He looked somewhat reluctant to show himself to where he was standing, but he looked up and saw Mr. Weasley staring at him warily.

"Do you need help finding your way out of the Ministry?" asked Mr. Weasley.

"No," muttered Draco.

Mr. Weasley opened the door to his office. Draco's eyes immediately scanned the Muggle-made objects that covered most of the small space. Mr. Weasley had an inkling feeling that he was being silently judged by the way Draco looked at his office.

Mr. Weasley sighed. "Well, you have to speak up, then. My work is done, and I have to get home."

"Is it true that Potter's sick?" Draco finally blurted out.

Mr. Weasley stopped moving and glared at him. "Had you been eavesdropping earlier outside in the courtrooms?"

"I wouldn't have known if you weren't saying his name so loudly, would I?" Draco retorted bluntly.

"Must be nice to eavesdrop." Mr. Weasley shot back. "I should say I'm not surprised." He didn't like talking to a kid like this, but knowing that he was a Malfoy and that they had done so many things to support the dark side were somewhat difficult to ignore.

"I'd only like to know if he is," he said coolly. "Because it's very unlikely for a Potter to get sick, given the fact that he's always up for some trouble."

"Well, it's none of your business, so you may very well leave."

"It is now," Draco said coldly. "I want to see him in person."

"Didn't you hear what I just said, kid?" Mr. Weasley asked, his temper quickly rising.

Draco made no move. He stood firmly in the middle of Mr. Weasley's doorway to block him from going out.

"I owe him," he muttered regretfully. He made eye contact with Mr. Weasley as though to let him know that he was telling the truth.

"And I should believe you because…?"

"He saved my life... and I am only asking in return to that favour and nothing else," Draco set his jaw and narrowed his eyes, putting his best effort to look as though it were a matter that no one could deter him from.

Mr. Weasley contemplated the sincerity of his words. Bringing him to the Burrow was far too risky and both their families would surely not take it well, but if the Malfoy boy really did need to pay off a life-debt then he had no choice but to let him talk to Harry because at that moment he was deathly sick.

"I will let you see Harry but under one condition," he said firmly. "Regardless of what you see or hear, you will not talk about this to anyone. I shall know if you did. Is that clear?"

"And if I did tell, what, then?" he challenged.

Mr. Weasley smirked. "Well, let's just say... your family would be placed under heavier suspicion and all your privileges will be suspended."

Draco merely gave him a noncommittal look and stepped aside to let him through to the Atrium.

Mr. Weasley appeared in the kitchen fireplace at the Burrow that afternoon. He immediately saw Ron, Ginny, and Hermione huddled quietly together around the table with distress written on each of their faces. Mr. Weasley had recognized what was happening by those looks, even without asking. He knew Harry was having a difficult time again. Before his children could even say a word of greeting at his arrival and before he could think whether the timing was right for a talk, another person arrived right behind him.

Ron stood up abruptly, his eyes scanning the face of Draco Malfoy with intense hatred, while Hermione and Ginny gaped at him with a little hint of annoyance on their faces.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Ron asked in a deadly tone. Malfoy raised his eyebrows at him, but before he or anyone else could utter another tense word, a faint scream was heard. All of them looked up at the ceiling.

"What was that?" Malfoy asked, his eyebrows furrowed. "Is there some kind of torture going on in here?"

Ron scowled and looked daggers at him. "What do you think you're doing here, Malfoy?" he asked again.

Mr. Weasley walked toward Ron and said, "Son, sit back down. Draco's here to talk to Harry."

"But he's not welcome here, dad!" said Ron fiercely while sending another dark look at Malfoy. "And besides, Harry's not in a good state to talk to anyone right now."

"Is he in his room?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Yes," Ginny replied while eyeing Malfoy cautiously. "Mum's with him."

Mr. Weasley nodded, his face looking worried all of a sudden.

"I'm going upstairs, and I want a civilized conversation in this house while I'm gone," he directed his words more to both his son and Draco, the latter only eyeing him dully. He left without saying another word again.

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny stared at Malfoy with death glares while quickly exchanging looks at each other in silent communication. They saw him scan the room. Another scream and a sob were heard.

"Geez, they really should stop torturing somebody –"

"That somebody is Harry, you moron!" Ron snapped at him. "And he wasn't being tortured. He's –"

"Sick, I know," said Malfoy in a bored, drawling voice. He let himself lean against the sink. "So why aren't you all with him? Isn't Potter your friend?"

"Don't you dare question our friendship," spat Ron. "You know nothing!"

Malfoy sneered. "If I were in there sick and my friends were nowhere to be found, I'd be pissed."

"You have no right to tell us what to do, Malfoy," Hermione said with disdain. "You don't even know Harry's situation."

"And you turn up here without even showing respect to who lives here," said Ginny coldly.

"How can I show respect when I was not even offered a seat?" retorted Malfoy. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny's faces turned red in anger. "And you call this a house?" he whispered while looking around with disgust in his face.

Ron threw him a dirty look. "You don't deserve a seat in here. If you want one, go and buy yourself a chair."

Malfoy laughed deridingly. "Feisty, aren't we?"

"You don't have any business here, Malfoy, so you might as well leave now," said Ginny coldly.

He eyed Ginny coolly. "Weren't you listening to your father, Weaselette?"

"And weren't you listening to Harry's screams, ferret?" snarled Ron. "Harry's sick and he wouldn't talk to the likes of you even if he weren't."

Malfoy crossed his arms. "I'll see that for myself, thanks."

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny narrowed their eyes.

They heard a foot clomping through the ceiling, and another muffled screams from Harry before silence hung in the air inside the Burrow. The tension downstairs ended quickly when Mr. Weasley appeared again in the kitchen soon after; distress had settled on his features.

"Harry's stable now," he announced to the tense group.

"Is he asleep?" Ginny asked as if hopeful that Draco could leave.

"No," said Mr. Weasley. "He's only resting. And," he looked over at Draco. "He's agreed to see you."

Ron was taken aback. "Harry's okay with it? He's been in that ordeal for hours, dad. I'm sure he's exhausted. Can't Malfoy just come back when Harry had enough rest if at all?" He gave an annoyed look at Malfoy. "Harry would've been sleeping now and gaining back his lost strength if only you hadn't come and bother him."

"Looks like he's fine with it," Mr. Weasley said calmly to his son. "He didn't say anything but only gave me a short nod."

"I'd better go and ask him then." Ron started to move, but his father stopped him.

"No need, son. I'm saying only Draco should come up there - and you better stay down here when he does."

"What?" Ron's eyes were wide, and even Hermione and Ginny were looking disapprovingly at Mr. Weasley. "But, dad, he –"

"It's not really our business what Draco intends to talk about with Harry," said Arthur. Ron could see Malfoy smirking from behind his father. He glowered at him.

"He better not do anything to him or else –"

"Do I look that stupid to you?" Malfoy asked Ron with a sneer. "Of course I wouldn't do anything. He'd be no match for me anyway; he's probably too weak to even hold a wand."

Ron lunged at him, but Mr. Weasley immediately grabbed his arm before he could punch Draco to whom Mr. Weasley cast a reproachful look.

"I have given you the chance to talk to Harry. Do so properly and with utmost respect, especially because Harry's ill," said Mr. Weasley resolutely. "Or else I will put a stop to it and send you back to the Ministry. Is that understood?"

Draco only looked away from him.

"Do I make myself absolutely clear?" Mr. Weasley asked him again firmer that time.

"Yes," said Draco blandly.

"Good. Now up you go."

The four of them looked menacingly at Malfoy as he walked up the stairs. Ron saw his eyes glint with malice before he disappeared, and he wished he could hear them talk. I could probably use an Extendable Ear, he thought, but he knew there was no way he could hide it from his dad. He cursed and gave a deep sigh.

Malfoy made his way to the open door he thought was Harry's. He let himself in without bothering to knock on the frame. Mrs. Weasley was there, but when she saw him, she immediately stood up and let herself out without saying a word.

Malfoy turned his head toward the sick figure of Harry lying in bed, his eyes closed and his breathing was heavy.

He cleared his throat to let him know of his arrival. "Potter."

Harry opened his eyes and looked blearily up at the silver-haired figure in front of him. Even without his glasses, he could make out the sneer carved on his face. He shakily reached for his glasses and put them on. He could see the sun setting outside his window when he addressed the one person he least expected to see, especially after the war.

"Malfoy," he said slowly in a hoarse voice. His throat was very sore and scratchy after screaming for the longest time. He thought he had lost his voice but was surprised to find he had some left. He made no move to sit. He had lost a great deal of energy and the strength to talk was just about his limit.

Malfoy decided to remain standing even though his feet were already hurting him, having last sat down since his family's interrogation at the Ministry. He didn't really want any part of his body to even touch the so-called house of the Weasleys.

"What happened to you?" he asked, his cold eyes scanning the sickly appearance of Harry. "I was expecting a very proud bloke who has defeated the Dark Lord. Not like this." He gestured carelessly Harry's lying shape.

"Sorry to disappoint you, then." Harry could only manage to talk in a low voice despite his willingness to retort loudly at Malfoy. "You're not looking good yourself. The death of Voldemort cost you your looks? You miss him that much?"

Malfoy sniggered. "Hmm... you still have the strength left to utter such nonsense in front of your better."

Harry gave a snort of disgust. "My better? I only see a coward in front of me."

"You don't know me, Potter," retorted Malfoy. "I've done many great things."

"Done many great things according to whom, Crabbe and Goyle?"

"Even without their help I've managed on my own, you know."

"What happened now?" Harry asked. "Someone who has done many great things, you don't look as confident without your little goons behind you. Have you lost your way and needed someone to find your way back? Is that why you're here?"

"Don't think so highly of yourself, Potter," Malfoy barked with harsh laughter.

"Speak for yourself, Malfoy. Aside from insulting my health, why did you come here, then?" Harry asked in frustration. "Because I don't need to hear any more of your rude comments. I've had enough of it."

Malfoy glared at him. "FYI, you saved my life, and as much as I don't want to owe you anything, I do. I only came to return that favour and nothing else!"

Harry smirked. "So is that the way you treat your better to whom you owe your life, then?"

"Shut up, Potter," he spat. "Just tell me how to return the favour so I can leave now."

"Is returning a favour to me like a punishment to you, Malfoy? That you'd rather do it for anyone else?

"Pretty much," he replied bitterly. "I'm sure that you would think of something difficult for me to handle."

"Not seeing your face is enough for me, Malfoy," said Harry. "That's the only thing I could think of and the best one at that."

"No," Malfoy said firmly.

Harry frowned. "No what?"

"I'm not leaving just because you don't want to see my face. So deal with it, Potter."

Harry sighed. "No. I am not going to deal with you. I'm exhausted and sick if you can't tell by now." Harry closed his eyes as a hint to make Malfoy go away, but the latter didn't move.

"Why are you sick?" Malfoy asked, suddenly curious. "I heard you're dying."

Harry tensed at his words. "It's none of your business."

"The way you're screaming, it must be so painful," said Malfoy dramatically.

"Really, Malfoy? I have no idea." Harry said sarcastically.

"So what is it, then?"

"Will you please just leave?"

"No." Malfoy crossed his arms and stood fixedly to where he was. "Tell me how you got sick, and then I'll leave."

Harry gave a deep sigh again. He didn't want Malfoy to know how he got sick. He never wanted to tell anybody else, but people just couldn't stop interfering, and it was pissing him off already. Because he knew Malfoy's family was a huge supporter of You-Know-Who and loved to work on the dark side, he didn't want to take the risk and tell Malfoy about his damaged soul and how it all started from a Horcrux.

"I don't know," Harry lied. "And besides, there's already a cure, so you can just let it go."

"Oh, is that the stone from what is it –" Malfoy scrunched his face, trying to remember the conversation he had overheard from Weasley and Shacklebolt. "The Veil?"

Harry was taken aback. "How did you know that?" he asked, regarding Malfoy with suspicion.

"I have my ways, Potter," replied Malfoy in a bored voice. "So care to tell me now?"

"No," said Harry defiantly. Just because Malfoy owed him, didn't mean he could start telling him about it. I don't trust him and never will, he thought.

"Okay. I could always ask the Weasel's father anyway," Malfoy taunted. "I'm sure he'll tell me once I mention the cure and the stone."

"Let it go, will you?" Harry was getting exasperated. He wished Ron and Hermione or anybody from the Weasleys would take Malfoy away from the room.

"Which part of the word 'no' don't you understand, Potter? I know you're sick, but you didn't hit your head, did you?"

Harry was sure that Malfoy was enjoying the torment he was giving him. Still, he resolved he would never back out until he got what he wanted.

"Please…" Harry begged, his throat becoming painful. He didn't want to argue anymore. He was already exhausted and he just wanted to rest. "Just let it go, Malfoy. I'm getting tired."

"I'm getting tired as well. So why don't you just do yourself a favour and tell me what it is you're looking for? This cure. Do you have it now?"

"I don't, okay? We're still looking for the other."

"Other?" Malfoy asked curiously. "What other?"

Harry was silent. He was contemplating again whether to say anything or not, but he could tell Malfoy was pretty adamant himself and he would never leave unless something was said.

"It's not only the stone that we need but –" he hesitated. Maybe Malfoy knows, he thought. He looked at Malfoy and asked, "Do you know where to find a wild Thestral?"

Malfoy raised his eyebrows. "What do you need a wild Thestral for?"

"Just answer the question, Malfoy. Do you or do you not?"

"You know what's odd, Potter? The Dark Lord had looked for one as well," said Malfoy coldly. "And he just so happened to tell me exactly where to get them."

"Why was he looking for it?" asked Harry. Was he intending to create more powerful wands?

"How should I know?" said Malfoy. "The Dark Lord doesn't give out information about his plans. It was only one of my missions."

"Where is it, then?"

"If I tell you, will that conclude my debt to you?"

Harry nodded.

"There's a well-hidden cave in Roscommon, Ireland," said Malfoy. "It is a sanctuary for a bunch of wild and magical creatures. I'd be careful going there if I were you."

To be continued...

Beta-read by KVeronicaP