Draco didn't know how long he had been walking, but it felt like years. In reality, it was only twenty minutes, but Draco didn't know that nor care, quite frankly. He had time to brood over his plan, running multiple scenarios in his head. But he kept going, following the glowing patronus.

The plan of saving Harry was fairly simple, Draco just had to kiss him and then everything would be... okay? Right? But even if he managed to close enough to even attempt a kiss, would Harry let it happen? The amount of questions racing through his head seemed as endless as the Department of Mysteries, but eventually, after an hour of walking and thinking intensely, he came to a door.

Draco let out a sob of joy when he finally felt the handle turn under his grasp. He was free! He was finally free. Now all he needed to do was floo out of here, so he needed to head to the first floor.

The patronus nuzzled Draco one last time before jumping into the air, making a small sound that wrung through his mind. Then it was gone, dashing through a window. Draco ran to the window, clutching the windowsill and watched as it ran through the sky, not dissipating like Draco expected.

Draco didn't want anyone to see he was almost quaking in his borrowed shoes. Harry had much bigger feet than him and it made him slip around all the time. With the stupid Weasel sweaters and all that, Draco knew Harry was just messing with him at this point. He'd do anything for that stupid git to mess with him, to just be there and talk about his stupid Gryffindor friends and his stupid job and see that stupid hair. That stupid grin.

Draco did need to fix his battlewear though, he couldn't be taken seriously in this get up. Draco quickly configured his muggle shoes to fit, Harry had called them... Converse. He changed the sweater into a slim emerald blouse and his ragged jeans into slacks. He wished he had a coat to change into a wizard's cloak, but at least he could be taken seriously by any passing wizards.

Sighing, Draco trudged forward, picking at his blonde tufts of hair. The walls were grey and dark, the lights kept flickering. Draco shivered, feeling a sense of dread wash over him. It was so cold all of a sudden. He turned around a corner, eyes going in all different directions. What was he going to do?

Would his plans actually work? No. No, it couldn't.

Draco turned another corner to the main hall. The fountain with the wizards crushing muggles under their feet stood before him and Draco swallowed hard at what lay beyond.

Dark figures stood, hovering above the ground. Hopelessness came across in their wake, spreading like tendrils up Draco's neck and mind.

Dementors.

Draco swallowed hard, trying to think of a happy memory. He'd made a patronus before, that meant he could do it again, right?

But the last time he was desperate, in a dark endless maze...

A happy memory... Happy memory...

He pictured him and Harry, walking together, laughing together, sitting together. He was in love with Harry Potter, he knew that, and while his mind meant for him to say the words expecto patronum, his thoughts betrayed him, and his mouth said very different words out into the world.

"I love you."

And everything was still. Draco hadn't realized he'd kept his eyes closed tight. Opening them, Draco looked around. The Dementors were gone. The hopeless feeling drained from his system and he perked up to see a man sitting on a bench behind the fountain. He couldn't make out who it was, but maybe they could help him find a way to Harry.

The stag was back, much bigger this time. Fire seemed to dance around it and it looked at Draco for a moment before disappearing once more, out the window. But he'd never said the spell... And the patronus came back anyway.

With renewed determination, Draco walked over to see who this man was.

-_-_-_-

Mythas Lester looked at himself in the mirror, brushing his hair with a few stray hairs into place. He had to look perfect for his performance today. After all, everyone would know the name of Mythas Lester forever after this. Harry Potter would finally be forgotten and he would be the new Chosen One. He would be immortalized. Grinning, Mythas examined his reflection again, making sure his mousy hair was perfect once more, and ran his hands down his face. The dark mark would no longer be a symbol of hatred, but one of unity under the new reign of Lester. The Minister of Magic position was now conveniently empty.

Everyone would beg him to take up the job. Everyone would want him. And he would give them the new World. The ministry wanted to squash the light, well, with him in charge, light would be dark and dark would be light. Everything would turn upside down and Mythas would save them all. He laughed, turning around and flicking his wrist. "Accio."

His wand flew into his hands and he marched out of his house. "Harry Potter!" he called out, walking into the dark and empty street. "I've come to talk to you!"

He knew everyone locked in their little houses were watching him, and he put on an extra cocky smile, making sure his Dark Mark was on display for everyone to see. "Harry Potter!"

He could feel the dark presence of Harry, which meant Draco hadn't done his part yet. Good. Which meant he had time. Mythas marched towards the Ministry, looking at the Dark Mark glowing over top the telephone box. He slipped inside and began dialing the number for the Ministry.

Everything would still go as planned.