Chapter 1

The Accused

            Draco Malfoy lazily strolled down Knockturn Alley, pleased by the fact he was completely unsupervised. His father didn't even know he was here. Casting a carefully practiced bored look over what he saw as he entered Borgin and Burkes, he smirked in spite of himself. Just knowing he had a free reign to do as he pleased in the shop (not that his father was very restricting), gave him a sense of superiority as he examined the various items on display.

            Dangerous magical objects littered the shelves of the shop. Draco looked over them, taking his time with the more hazardous things. He stopped at a very ordinary-looking bronze jug, smirking as he read the label: The Drowning Jug- Very dangerous. Drowned over 100 muggles in the Middle Ages, who thought it was free water for the poor. The muggle corpses were unrecognizable, as their faces had been sucked off.

            He passed by a pair of gorgeous gold earrings covered with dried blood encased in glass, and he cast a lazy eye upon the rusty spiked instruments he had seen many times before. After he examined the shelf filled with skulls, he came upon an item he had never seen before. A dark blue cloak was on display behind glass. The label read: Ask front desk for information. Intrigued, Draco rang the bell on the dusty counter, examining the evil-looking masks on the wall behind the desk. Shortly, a stooping, greasy-haired man appeared.

            "Master Malfoy! How wonderful to see you." He said in an oily voice that was as phony as his smile. "Is your father here as well?"

            "No. It's just me." He said, sneering.

            "Heading back to Hogwarts soon? Looking for something that might be… of use for the new school year?" Borgin said, slowly making his way to a display of colorful quills, "These are quite interesting. Poisoned quills. Not fatal enough to kill anyone, of course, when used properly." He said the last word sarcastically, as if he were making sure to get the point across that they were fatal. "Just a little prick in an extending hand, and—"

            "I'm not interested," Draco said abruptly, interrupting the elder man. "I would, however, like you to tell me about this cloak," he said icily, gesticulating towards the dark blue cloak.

            "Ah, the Zoyan cloak of Identity!" Borgin said, clearly glad in being able to make a sales pitch, "This cloak is from a tragic story and history. It's believed to be linked with many suicides…" Borgin paused for dramatic effect before continuing. "The cloak was created by Countess Zoya Olenko during Medieval times. She was the daughter of a very rich and powerful Count, who, like anyone of nobility, wanted to secure a predecessor with his bloodline. Zoya was his only daughter, as his wife died soon after giving birth to her. He never took a second, being one of the few men who would only love one woman as his wife. Apparently he had many mistresses, but he refused to have a bastard child as his successor."

            "So he arranged for Zoya to marry another nobleman's son. She had never met the man, but she was very upset that she was being forced to marry someone just so her father would have a successor. Being disgruntled at her father and her position, and the male-dominant world in general, she decided to run away from her family and her title."

            "She knew that if anyone saw her, they would immediately return her to her father, because he would offer a reward. Which he did."

            "Driven by her contempt for the men around her, she created the cloak to avoid this problem. It creates a new outward appearance for its wearer, though inwardly, the person is the same. They can create a new identity, similar to Polyjuice Potion, but with a great advantage. They do not need a part of someone else to take on a different appearance, and it does not wear off after an hour. This is also the problem with the cloak. The Countess cursed the cloak to never be able to be taken off until the wearer finds his or her true love and connects with them. No one knows exactly what the connection must be…" Borgin trailed off, completely immersed in his storytelling. Draco rolled his eyes.

            "True love? I thought she didn't want to be with anyone, or maybe she just didn't want a man." He sneered.

            "No, no," Borgin said, missing or ignoring the insinuation, "She didn't want to be set up. So she made the cloak so that it could not be removed until she found her true love."

            "How sentimental."

            "Ah, but she didn't have a sentimental ending. She never found her true love. She spent the rest of her short life destitute, as she didn't have any money or skill in anything except proper etiquette for a feast. That didn't help her at all, of course. After a long, futile search for her soul mate, she tried to return to her father, but no one believed she was his long lost daughter. Eventually she killed herself using poison. Ironic really. She probably would have been happier if she had just followed her father's wishes."

            "So then, how did the cloak survive? Shouldn't it have gone with her when she killed herself under her fake identity?"

            Borgin smirked. "No. As soon as she died, the cloak reappeared, as did her real appearance. Her body was found. The cloak was pilfered by an unsuspecting peasant, who also ended up committing suicide. The cloak has caused many people to drive themselves to death, because it eventually consumes them with a purpose. To find their soul mate. Some did find their 'other half', but they never destroyed the cloak."

            Draco smirked. "It's not really that useful then, is it." he said, making it a statement rather than a question.

            "On the contrary, it can be very useful. For example, say someone did something that was, oh, I don't know, against the law." He made it sound very casual, but Draco knew this must have been the real purpose behind Borgin having such an item for sale.

            "If someone wanted to avoid being caught, this could be a very useful object, as it changes your identity. If someone were to have some method for finding people by looking beyond their disguises, it wouldn't matter, if the fugitive was wearing the cloak. Once you've introduced yourself, while wearing the cloak, with a different name other than your own, you would always be seen with that name, no matter what device is used to detect you."

            "Really?" Draco asked, suddenly very interested in the "sentimental" cloak.

            "Yes. It's truly a treasured item of great worth, if someone doesn't want to be recognized. Are you interested in purchasing it?" Borgin asked evenly, but the look on his face clearly indicated he felt Draco was. After all, if Draco wasn't, then Borgin would have made one of his best sales pitches ever with a negative end result. Borgin wouldn't like going to all the trouble of explaining the cloak without making a sale. Draco kept his expression controlled.

            "Hmm…" Draco said, prolonging his decision and torturing Borgin.

            "I assure you it's very reasonable priced for such a priceless item." Borgin said, still maintaining his calm façade.

            Draco finally relented. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to have it…You know, just in case."

            Borgin was delighted. "Of course, of course. You've made a very wise choice, sir." Draco smirked at the man's spontaneous formality.

***

            Draco emerged from Borgin and Burkes ten minutes later feeling both elated and dejected. He was happy he had made the purchase, but now he didn't have much money left to spend on anything else, and he wasn't sure if he had made a very wise choice in buying the cloak. It wasn't the money spent that bothered him; he could always get more from his father later. It just seemed like he had bought a truly useless item. He wandered out of Knockturn Alley and into Diagon Alley, where he planned on spending the rest of his money on sweets and other useless things, to acquiesce with his theme of buying things he didn't need or necessarily want.

            Emerging from a sweet shop much later, Draco immediately noticed that something was amiss in Diagon Alley. The normally content, bustling feel of the alley had changed to one of tenseness and fear. There was an odd green sheen reflecting off the shops and the people screaming and hurrying by. They all seemed very afraid, and many were heading towards the exits of Diagon Alley. Many adults were Apparating out of the throughway, while families rushed towards any shops connected to the floo network, and the entrance to the Muggle world, at the Leaky Cauldron. The majority of the panicked mass was staring upwards in terror. Draco looked up and saw the reason why everything seemed to be slightly green.

            Glaring down from its high point was the Dark Mark- the skull with a snake for a tongue. The sign of Voldemort. Draco immediately whipped his head around, looking for the person responsible for sending up the Mark. Which Death Eater was foolhardy enough to send up the Mark in Diagon Alley, where there were wizards and probably Aurors everywhere?

            "What happened?" Draco heard a witch on his right shout to her companions as she ran up to them. "I just got out here when I heard screaming-"

            "It was a Death Eater." Draco stepped closer to the group unobtrusively, wanting to find out what had happened since he had no one to ask.

            "I was out here when it happened," a wizard with graying hair and beard continued sadly, "One of You-Know-Who's followers attacked what looked like a Muggle family, probably with wizarding children, they were coming out of Fluorish and Blotts—"

            "Attacked? Are they mad?" The witch demanded.

            "I don't know. Anyway, the Death Eater hit the entire family, one by one with the Cruciatus Curse—"

            "They had two little boys and a little girl with them…" another witch added quietly. The first witch gasped. Draco leaned toward the group closer.

            "Then he took off his mask, like he wanted people to see him and he shouted, 'Filthy Mudbloods shouldn't be dirtying Hogwarts halls.' Then he conjured the Dark Mark and Disapparated." The wizard finished in a shaky voice.

            "Hang on, did you say he took his mask off? Did you see what he looked like?"

            "Yeah, he had really blonde hair and pale skin. But his eyes- that was the creepiest part about him. They were cold, steely gray. The odd thing was, he didn't look older than fifteen…"

            Draco was stunned. Someone had conjured the Dark Mark looking like him. He immediately started to turn away, but it was too late. The wizard had been gesticulating where the family had been, before Aurors and members of the Ministry of Magic took them away when he saw Draco trying to slink away unnoticed. The wizard's eyes widened and he immediately began to shout.

            "It's him! It's him! He's the one who attacked the family and conjured the Dark Mark!"

            Draco instantly started running towards Fluorish and Blotts, the closest shop to him, but Aurors were already Apparating in front of him with a pop! and running towards him with their wands out. He changed direction and ran towards the throng outside of the Leaky Cauldron, but more people had spotted him and Aurors were appearing all around him. He finally managed to break away and run down a short alley between Ollivander's wand shop and the Apothecary. Unfortunately, it was a dead end. He knew the Aurors would find him any moment now.

He jammed his hand into his robes looking for his wand, but it wasn't there. Damn, he thought, I must have dropped it.

Or someone stole it, tortured a Muggle family with wizard children and conjured the Dark Mark, a voice said in the back of his mind.

Draco was now panicking. He looked around, wondering stupidly for a moment if he could ward off the Aurors by throwing rocks at them. Then he looked down and saw his package from Borgin and Burkes. He remembered Mr. Borgin saying, If someone wanted to avoid being caught, this could be a very useful object…

Draco didn't hesitate. He took the dark blue cloak out and flung it over himself.