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Book 1:
The Tale of Two Rings
Chapter 1:
The Birth of the Silver Dragon

I sat there absent-mindedly, unconciously chewing on the writing end of my quill while reading the message I had just written to Harry.

Dear Harry -

I am out of paper so whatever I write, I am stuck with. I am sorry if this letter is too long for you. You don't know me, but I sure do know you. You infest my dreams and posess my every waking minute. I cannot close my eyes without seeing your beautiful face. 2 years since I heard of your fainting. This is not easy for me to write, but it would be much harder to say in person.
I love you. Damn! How I love you! Stop haunting my dreams!
I would be honored if you would wear the ring that you will find enclosed. Should you decide not, I will be hurt, but I will understand.
I made it myself.

Yours forever -
Silver Dragon

"Bloody hell, that's lame!" I spurted out. I began searching my desk for any scrap of parchment. Failing to find any, I resigned myself to the fact that this would have to do, no matter how lame it seemed.
I stuffed the letter into an envelope and was just about to seal it when I realized that I was about to use the Malfoy seal.
"No good" I said, setting the unsealed envelope down on the desk. Pointing my wand at the, I whispered a charm and the fire extinguished itself.
I headed back to the laboratory, eager to set to work on a totally different seal, one that could not be traced back to Draco Malfoy. I am fairly adept at drawing and I had drawn the crest of a dragon not so long ago. I had called it the Sign of the Silver Dragon and I smiled inwardly as I set about creating the small signet ring that would bear that name.

"Yes, I know and I don't care what you think!" My father's voice boomed through the hallway. He was headed for this room.
"If you don't care what I think, then why am I even here? I tell you that going after the minister is not a very good idea! He doesn't even know that the dark lord has returned." This second voice was unfamiliar to me, but I knew that they would both be entering this room very soon, so I quickly stowed all of my work in an empty drawer and got to work on brewing a sleeping draught.
"We will do it because he doesn't think we will!" my father said as he roughly opened the door. He immediately noticed me behind one of the cauldrons and his face turned from half smile to frown.
"What are you doing out of bed at this ungodly hour?" he rasped at me, his icy voice, chilling me yet again.
"I was unable to sleep, so I am in here brewing a sleeping draught." I replied with an equally icy tone. Cold and emotionless, just like I had been trained to do.
Ignoring me, my father moved to an empty cauldron and began to mix his own potion, the second man assisting him. I was nervous brewing a potion with my father in the same room where he could observe my actions. What if I got it wrong? What if I added the wrong ingredient. And what if I melted the cauldron? He would surely be unforgiving.
Despite my concerns, the draught was done at last and as usual, it was perfect. As my father and his assistant left the room with whatever potion they had just created, I made a few notes in the open book at my side. When they had left, I quickly finished the work on my signet ring and dropped it into my pocket. Ripping the page from the book, I folded it and slipped it into my pocket as well, then closed the book.
Pouring the draught into a leather potion flask, I left the laboratory.

Back in my room, my letter to Harry was sitting right where I had left it. Wrapping Potters' ring in green wrappings, I dropped it into the envelope, sealed the envelope with my new signet ring and sent it off to the boy god.
Retrieving the notebook paper from my pocket, I began to compose a letter to the ministry of magic.

Minister Fudge -

I do not like you and I don't really know why I am doing this. Maybe because, in some sick way, I think that I am saving my soul. Maybe because I want you to owe me for saving your pathetic life. The Death Eaters are planning an attack and either you or someone else's life at the ministry is in grave danger.
You may choose not to believe me or ignore this letter altogether, but I do not really care.
If you choose not to take this letter seriously, you will certainly take my next letter VERY seriously. Either way, it is none of my concern.
There is one thing you should remember...

You owe me
Silver Dragon

Stamping the Silver Dragon seal on that envelope as well, I sent it off with a second owl. Suddenly it hit me. I must be MAD!
Why should I care about Fudge or the rest of the ministry scum? After all, I was about to become a Death Eater myself.
Rising from the desk, I began the trek to my bathroom, shedding my clothes along the way. Maybe another shower would clear my head.
The bathroom was large, clean and comfortable, but none of this eased my concerns as the hot water poured over me.
Throughout the shower, I continued to scold myself for my recent actions and telling myself, "Draco old boy, you're going soft!"
I fell asleep that night, trying to figure out what it was that was urging me to do "good" deeds.
The answer was to come to me in the form of a dream.

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