Secrets

Secrets
Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/8184311.
Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Category: M/M
Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Relationship: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Additional Tags: Drama, Romance, Explicit Language, Sexual Content, Spoilers
Language: English
Collections: The Hex Files, HPFandom, Absolute favourites, Harry Potter x Draco
Malfoy, All-Time Favorite Works, Drarry, Platinum - HP, He was
rapidly becoming obsessed with Draco Malfoy, Talullah’s favorite HP
fanfics, IYRTIGREAT, I love you so, Drarry, HPDMread when there is
time, best fanfics ive read, Fave Harry Potter, Harry Potter, Zaharya's
Favourites, The Best Harry Potter Fics, Drarry__Stuff, Purple Archivist:
Read and Read Again, hp stories, Golden Drarry, Works worth reading a
million times over, fanfics that I recommended to my friends,
Drarry1818, Paris Rereads, hixpatch's all time favorites, hp fics for when
I need my fix, Radioactive_isotrope’s Bookshelf, Hp binge reading and
absolute masterpiece, International Fanworks Day 2022 - Classic Fic
Recs, super cool and awsome works to show people, Read & Loved HP
Fics, Faves of drarry, Dantalion's Library, Forever Rereads, Good HP,
Fics I Could Read A Thousand More Times, Ashes' Library,
FavouritesFics, tesseray's library, Favourite Harry Potter Fics, collection
of fics over the years, Wholesomeness en bandeja de plata, Gorgeous
Shit, Most Scrumptious Fics I’ve Ever Read, Fanfiction that just tickle
my brain, HPxDM, HP Favorites That I Want to Reread All the Time, I
wanna eat you up (like Betty Crocker), Perfect Finished Works,
That's_My_Canon_Now, Hyper-FIC-sations, T.S.S (This shit slaps)
Stats: Published: 2005-12-01 Completed: 2006-06-02 Words: 395,365
Chapters: 62/62
Secrets
by Vorabiza (Biza)
Summary
Beginning with Draco's unexpected arrival at the Dursleys, Harry's summer after sixth year
becomes filled with activity and many secrets. As his summer progresses, Harry generates
several unexpected allies as he finds himself actively becoming the leader of the Light side.
H/D post-HBP ~~Complete~~
Chapter One
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and company are property of J.K. Rowling.

Beta: Many, many thanks to Bookgirl (my treasure!) who is graciously helping to pull this
together into something readable!
Warnings: Slash (definite Harry/Draco, hints of Severus/Remus) NC-17 (graphic smut --
eventually) AU (as I'm not JKR) IC or OCC (depends on interpretation, but mostly IC)
Cross-Dressing (only one chapter -- and I'll warn you) Minor Character Death (no one close
to Harry, otherwise it would depress me) Post-HBP (major spoilers)
Chapter One
Harry sat, staring out his window. It had become his habit over the previous two weeks. Sleep
was elusive and when he did sleep, he was often plagued by nightmares. His mind simply did
not want to shut down.
It was only the middle of June, and he should’ve still been at Hogwarts. Yet he’d already
been at the Dursleys for two weeks, spending his required time for the blood protection. He’d
done nothing but think during that time. He had far too many questions and too few answers.
He constantly worked through every piece of information that he did have, hoping to make
some sense out of everything. So far, he wasn’t having much luck and it was frustrating
beyond belief.
Staring into the dark night, he suddenly froze. He stared harder at the shadows at the end of
the street. Seconds later, he was sure of what he’d seen. Someone had just Apparated onto
Privet Drive. Watching closely, he tried to determine if it was friend or foe. It was difficult to
tell because, whoever it was, they were extremely adept at sticking to the shadows.
They may have been good at keeping to the shadows, but Harry quickly realized that they
weren’t being overly cautious. They seemed to be in a great hurry. Moments later, they were
highlighted by the soft lights coming from one of the houses as they crept closer to check the
house number.
Harry stiffened in shock, recognizing Death Eater robes. Judging from what little he’d seen,
there was only one person and he’d bet anything they were looking for him. As they turned
away from the light, Harry caught a glimpse of platinum-blonde hair. There was only one
person it could be.
After a split-second of indecision, Harry was out of his bedroom and down the stairs. He
opened the front door quietly and just enough for him to slip through.
“Potter?”
“Malfoy,” Harry spat. “What are you doing?” He was spitting out the words even as his eyes
searched for the figure he’d seen from his window. He quickly spotted Malfoy in the shadows
at the edge of the property.
“Potter? Oh, thank Merlin,” Malfoy murmured.
Harry frowned, not understanding why Malfoy should be thankful to see him. “How’d you
find me?” he demanded.
“Anyone can find you, but that’s not important right now,” Malfoy snapped. “I need your
help.”
“You need my help?” Harry asked incredulously. “You’re my enemy, Malfoy!”
“I know that,” Malfoy spat. “But I need you to take her.”
He stepped out of the deeper shadows so that Harry could see him better, and Harry’s eyes
widened, not realizing the horror he was projecting. What Harry could see was a figure in
Death Eater robes, holding something small, and moving, wrapped in robes. It was too eerily
similar to what Harry had witnessed in the graveyard. Suddenly, Malfoy seemed far more
dangerous and Harry began backing away.
“Stay away, Malfoy!” Harry shouted as forcefully as he could.
“Keep your voice down,” Malfoy hissed.
Harry swallowed hard. They may have been in a Muggle neighbourhood, in the middle of the
night, but he was beyond caring.
Malfoy frowned, glancing down at the bundle he was holding before looking back at Harry in
confusion. “What’s your problem now, Potter?”
“What is that?” Harry asked, cursing himself as he heard the fear bleeding into his voice.
“It’s a baby, Potter,” Malfoy retorted. “You’ve faced the Dark Lord. I never expected you to
be scared of a helpless baby.”
“Prove it,” Harry whispered, staring at the bundle of robes.
Malfoy’s frown deepened, but he obliged by pulling the robes aside to show the baby he was
holding.
Harry exhaled heavily, closing his eyes briefly before snapping them open again. “What are
you playing at, Malfoy? Why do you have a baby? And why are you here?” he added.
Malfoy seemed to snap back into reality himself and glanced around fearfully. “I don’t have
time to explain everything,” he said hurriedly. “I need you to take her and keep her safe.
They’ve probably already killed the rest of her family. I managed to get her out of there, but
they’ll notice if I don’t get back soon.”
Harry finally registered the fact that Malfoy was more jittery than he’d ever seen him. The
calm, collected Slytherin Harry knew appeared to be falling apart before his eyes.
“Come, take her, Potter,” Malfoy said, his tone sounding anxious rather than demanding. “I
can’t pass the wards.”
“What’s wrong with her?” Harry asked warily.
Malfoy looked down at the little girl in his arms. “I had to put a Silencing Charm on her so
she wouldn’t alert everyone. Otherwise, I think she’s all right. I hope so, anyway,” he added
softly.
Harry shook his head, trying to decide if he had fallen asleep after all and this was just a
strange dream. He watched warily as Malfoy moved to take out his wand, keeping his own
wand trained on the boy behaving so strangely.
Malfoy simply cast the spell to lift the Silencing Charm before quickly stuffing his wand
back in his pocket and trying to quiet the screaming baby. The screams were loud in the quiet
of the night. “Potter, help,” he said pleadingly.
“I don’t know how to take care of a baby,” Harry said nervously.
“I don’t either, but you have to take her,” Malfoy begged. “I don’t have anywhere else to take
her. Potter, I have to go.”
With a growing sense of detachment from reality, Harry walked to the edge of the property
and took the crying baby from Malfoy’s arms.
Malfoy looked at him in relief. “I’ll try to come back in the morning. It should be safe then.
Don’t tell anyone anything or she’ll likely be killed.”
With that, he disappeared with a distinct “pop”. Harry stared in disbelief at the spot where
Malfoy had been just moments before. What the bloody hell had just happened?
A louder wail disrupted his thoughts and Harry hurried back to the house with a baby in his
arms.
“Boy! What is the meaning of this?” Vernon bellowed, stomping down the stairs even as
Harry stepped back into the house.
“I don’t know,” Harry snapped. He was not in the mood to deal with his relatives. Hearing a
creaking sound, he glanced up and saw Petunia and Dudley staring down at him in
amazement.
“You don’t know?” Vernon said dangerously. His eyes narrowed in on the baby Harry was
holding. “Do not tell me they’ve dropped off another one of you freaks on our doorstep. We
are not taking in another one.”
“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t let that happen even if you were willing,” Harry shouted angrily,
causing the baby to cry harder.
“Shut that thing up!” Vernon shouted furiously.

“I don’t know how!” Harry said helplessly.
Harry held the baby to his shoulder and bounced her gently. He’d seen people doing it before,
so it must work to help calm babies down. At least, that was his hope.
He continued to stand there listening to his uncle berate him and the baby crying. He watched
Aunt Petunia disappear into the kitchen, only wishing that he could disappear as well. His
mind was swirling with questions, and he couldn’t seem to grasp what had just happened.
He was further shocked when his aunt returned with a bottle for the baby and shooed her
husband and son back to bed. They didn’t go willingly, but she pointed out that if they
wanted quiet, then she was going to do something about it. She didn’t take the baby from
Harry, and in fact looked at the baby with distaste, but she did show Harry how to correctly
hold and feed her.
Harry relaxed slightly into the chair as blessed silence fell over the house again. The only
sounds were the slurping of the baby drinking.
“Where did she come from?”
Harry glanced over to his aunt sitting primly on the couch. “I think she’s another victim of
this war,” he stated grimly, not exactly answering the question.
She pursed her lips tightly. “This is a war amongst your kind, isn’t it?” she asked. “All of
these catastrophes and murders. They’re your kind’s doing.”
“Yes,” Harry admitted, not wanting to get into the fact that Voldemort and his followers
weren’t his kind. He knew what she meant. “Although, Voldemort will gladly kill all of you
as well if he’s given the opportunity.”
“You can help stop this?” she questioned hesitantly.
Harry looked at her curiously, but answered her truthfully. “I am the only one who can stop
this,” he said flatly.
She startled and looked at him in horrified astonishment. “You are only a boy!” she
exclaimed.
He snorted. “Have I ever been only a boy?” he retorted bitterly. “It doesn’t particularly matter
to Voldemort anyway,” he said dismissively.
“Where is your Headmaster?” Petunia asked, sounding almost hopeful.
“Dead,” he answered flatly.
She stared at him in disbelief. “Is there no hope?”
Harry finally realized that his aunt was scared. The woman was deathly afraid of what was
happening, and unlike so many Muggles, she had a slight inkling of what was really
occurring in their world. She had always tried blocking out any knowledge or recognition of
the Wizarding world, but she did know it existed. She knew her sister and husband had been
killed by a Dark wizard. She understood enough of the circumstances surrounding the event
of Harry’s arrival into their home almost sixteen years before to be scared now.
His aunt was actually scared enough by the recent events to risk talking to him about the
Wizarding world. Harry shook his head, seriously wondering about his sanity. Malfoy was
dropping babies off at his doorstep and Aunt Petunia was recognizing that the Wizarding
world existed. He knew things were falling apart in the world, but these two occurrences
were hitting him harder than news of the latest murders.
He met the eyes of his aunt again. “I believe there’s hope,” he answered finally. He looked
down at the baby that was almost asleep in his arms. “There has to be hope,” he whispered.
“Where did she come from?” Aunt Petunia asked again.
Harry looked up to realize she’d also been watching the baby. He sighed heavily. “I believe
all of her family was killed tonight. I don’t know much. I really don’t know anything at all.
The person who brought her to me is supposed to return in the morning to explain.”
Aunt Petunia pursed her lips again, and Harry was sure that her instincts were to argue with
that. She didn’t want any more freaks in her house. She remained quiet, though.
“I don’t know what this is about, but if the person comes back, it’s important that I talk with
them,” Harry said.
She closed her eyes as her face twisted into a grimace. “I believe Dudley and I will be
running several errands tomorrow morning. I doubt we’ll return until after lunch.”
Harry nodded in acceptance, understanding what she was telling him. Uncle Vernon would be
at work and she would make sure she and Dudley weren’t around when Harry’s “guest”
arrived. She didn’t like it, but she seemed to accept it enough that she wasn’t going to tell her
husband or son.
They were both startled when there was a tapping at the window. Baby in his lap or not,
Harry’s wand was out and pointing almost instantly. Then he felt like a fool as he realized it
was only an owl. He glanced at his aunt, wincing a little at her terrified expression and
wondering if she was more scared of the noise or his reaction.
He awkwardly stood and handed the baby to her, which she took without a word. He moved
to let the owl in, wondering if it could somehow be from Malfoy. The owl left again as soon
as Harry had untied the scroll from its leg and he frowned at its swift departure.
His eyes widened as he recognized the Ministry seal. “Oh, fuck,” he cursed softly, hurriedly
breaking the seal. Malfoy had performed the counter to the Silencing Charm and yet Harry
was about to receive the punishment for it. His eyes grew round as he read the contents of the
letter.
“Harry?” Petunia questioned him hesitantly.

Harry blinked at her, wondering if he should admit what the letter said. Before the events of
the past hour, he would’ve said that she’d hate the news, but now . . . now she might actually
be reassured by it.
“Um, the person who was here performed a little bit of magic,” he admitted, watching his
aunt closely for her reaction. She simply sucked in a breath and held it, waiting for Harry to
drop the other shoe.
“The Ministry detects magic here, as you know, and I’m normally not allowed to do any,” he
continued. “This letter actually gives me permission, even though I’m technically not legal
until my birthday in another month and a half.” He bitterly added the reminder of when his
birthday was, honestly not sure his aunt truly remembered. There was some sense of
satisfaction as his aunt finally exhaled the breath she’d been holding as she eyed the wand
currently sticking out of his back pocket again.
“They’re allowing you, because of this war?” she asked, still eying his wand. He pulled the
wand out of his pocket and her eyes followed the movement.
Harry looked from his wand to the letter still in his left hand. “Yeah,” he finally answered. “I
have special permission from the Minister himself ‘due to extenuating circumstances’. I’m
betting it’s because it wouldn’t look good for the Ministry to be persecuting me right now,”
he added, a sour taste in his mouth. He was happy that he was now allowed to use his magic,
but didn’t like the fact that Scrimgeour only granted it to him because he was the Chosen
One.
Petunia didn’t say anything and Harry could see the conflicting expressions on her face. He
felt that he’d been right in a way—she was both angered and relieved by the news.
He eyed her warily, changing the subject. “Aunt Petunia? Um, what do I do with her for
now?” he asked, gesturing to the baby in her arms.
His aunt grudgingly gave him a crash course in very basic baby care at two o’clock in the
morning. She helped Harry fashion a makeshift bed out of one of his wardrobe drawers and
showed him how to fix a bottle. She also instructed him on how to change the baby’s nappies.
When he questioned her on why she had a few baby items, she glared and pursed her lips in
her habitual way, but then finally admitted that one of the neighbour women had a young
child. She kept the extras on hand just in case, for when the woman would periodically come
to tea.
Harry thought he shouldn’t have been too surprised. His aunt always preferred to be seen as
the perfect hostess, catering to her guests’ every need. The woman also had a habit of
stocking up on anything and everything imaginable.
Eventually, the baby was sleeping soundly and Aunt Petunia went back to her own room,
leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.
Moving back to the window, he stared out onto the empty street. Had Malfoy really appeared
and dropped a baby off in his arms just a couple hours before? A quick glance over his
shoulder at the sleeping child gave him the answer, but it still seemed unbelievable.
Harry didn’t have a clue as to what he should do. He’d stepped outside prepared to duel
Malfoy, not face the other boy pleading with him. Malfoy was the enemy. He’d let all those
Death Eaters into Hogwarts. He’d tried to kill Dumbledore. Harry’s thoughts stalled again.
He’d gone around this countless times in the two weeks he’d been sitting at the Dursley’s
house. Malfoy had tried to kill Dumbledore. He hadn’t been able to do it. He’d wavered at
the end. Harry had seen the tip of Malfoy’s wand drop.
Staring unseeingly into the night, Harry once again let his mind picture those crucial minutes.
Dumbledore had been attempting to coax Malfoy over to the other side. He’d offered
sanctuary for Malfoy and his family, and Malfoy had seemed to be tempted.
What did it mean?
He just couldn’t see Dumbledore saying all that to save his own life. Which brought Harry’s
thoughts circling back to Snape. Harry tensed, but didn’t feel the upsurge of extreme anger.
Once away from Hogwarts, he’d had a chance to calm down and try to think rationally. When
he did, he realized that Dumbledore was simply not the type to plead for his life. Harry had
tried placing himself into that type of situation. It wasn’t really that hard to imagine. He
remembered the graveyard and he remembered the events at the Ministry. He himself hadn’t
pleaded for his life either time. He’d been sure that he was going to die, especially at the
graveyard, but he’d refused to give in.
Harry just couldn’t understand Dumbledore pleading for his life. It didn’t fit. He knew
Dumbledore was a strong and powerful wizard. The old man was tenacious in his beliefs and
would never give up. Harry had seen him give up, though. Hadn’t he?
Harry pressed his fingertips to his temples, trying to ease the pressure in his pounding head.
Dumbledore just wasn’t one to give in and admit defeat. It seemed dishonourable to even
think such a thing. So, what did it all mean? Harry remembered Dumbledore pleading to
Snape. He remembered Dumbledore talking to Malfoy.
What did it all mean?
That question continued to cycle through Harry’s brain, over and over. He tried forcing his
mind back to Malfoy. That was volatile enough without adding Snape into the mix.
The last time he’d seen Malfoy, the boy had been running away from Hogwarts. Judging
from the Death Eater robes he’d just been wearing, he’d run straight back to Voldemort.
Harry wanted to know if he’d run willingly or not. Dumbledore’s conversation with Malfoy
left doubts in his mind.
Harry sighed. There were too many doubts and too many questions, and still no answers. He
turned to gaze at the baby. There were simply more questions.
*****
Harry settled himself in front of the sitting room window where he could watch for Malfoy.
There was something horribly odd and wrong about that, but he was doing it regardless.
The whole night and the entire morning so far had felt significantly surreal. He’d managed to
stay in his room until he heard his uncle leaving, as he wasn’t about to get into another
confrontation with him if he could help it. For once he was thankful that it was a Monday.
He felt like he should be feeling angrier than he was, but rather he was feeling mostly numb.
His aunt was as much to blame for his lack of feeling as Malfoy’s odd behaviour.
When Harry had made an appearance downstairs, Aunt Petunia had handed him a baby
blanket and some clean clothes to dress the baby in. She’d also quietly informed him that she
would bring him back a few baby supplies when she returned. Right after that she’d hollered
for Dudley and they’d left.
It wasn’t until after they’d left that the true shock hit Harry, not that her behaviour hadn’t
been shocking enough as it was. He’d gone to change the baby, though, and realized the
blanket had to have been his.
The soft, fluffy blanket was red with golden snitches patterned on the material. Aunt Petunia
wouldn’t have anything like that. She likely didn’t even know what the small winged balls
were. She certainly wouldn’t know that the blanket was Gryffindor colours. She must have
washed it, though, because it smelled like it had just come from the dryer.
Harry stared at it uncomprehendingly for a long time. He was unaware of just how long he
did sit there, lost in thoughts about his mum and dad. He realized what it meant. He had
surely been brought to the Dursleys wrapped in the blanket. He fingered the small clothing. It
was a simple blue sleeper that he must have been wearing the night his parents were killed.
He glanced at the doorway where he’d last seen Aunt Petunia. She had to have saved them all
this time. He had no idea why, and had trouble believing that she had, but he was thankful
anyway. She’d never been kind to him in anyway, but he realized she must feel something for
him. Or for her sister.
The baby started crying again, breaking Harry free from his thoughts.
“How do I do this?” he muttered, knowing he wasn’t going to get an answer.
Alternately grumbling and making shushing noises, he managed to fumble his way through
getting the baby changed and in the fresh sleeper. He didn’t think she’d particularly care that
she was being dressed in pyjamas again, despite it being morning. It was all he had for her.
He fixed her a bottle and settled in front of the window to feed her, watching for Malfoy. He
still couldn’t believe he was watching for Malfoy, and looked at the baby instead. He didn’t
have a clue as to where she came from, or even what her name was. He did understand that
she’d just lost her family, though.
That fact alone made his chest hurt. The ache was simple compounded at seeing her in his
blue sleeper.
Watching her drink her bottle as he held it for her, he decided she was pretty cute. He gave a
half-smile, looking at the short black hair that was tufted on her head. He wondered if that’s
what his hair had looked like at her age, whatever age that was. She wasn’t very old, but she
didn’t seem real little, either. Harry really had no idea with his limited experience with
babies.
She was staring back at him with huge grey eyes. Her features were all delicate and . . .
rounded, Harry decided. She seemed so fragile and Harry couldn’t comprehend how it was
that he was the one holding her. She really needed to go to someone who could care for her
properly.
He still didn’t know where she’d come from in the first place, though. He sighed and took the
bottle away as she finished and carefully lifted her to his shoulder to burp her the way his
aunt had taught him.
Lifting his gaze to the window again, he blinked in amazement as he realized Malfoy was
watching him intently from the sidewalk. He blinked again, surprised to see Malfoy dressed
in grey trousers and green shirt. Harry rolled his eyes. Even dressed to be around Muggles,
Malfoy was dressed like a Slytherin.
He was also standing there in broad daylight. Harry could feel his headache trying to pound
to the surface again. Shouldn’t he be trying to kill Malfoy, not be inviting him in for tea?
Closing his eyes, he pictured again Malfoy’s shaking hand and the wand tip dropping. He
could hear Dumbledore telling Malfoy that they would protect him if only he came to the
right side.
Opening his eyes, he stared back at the Slytherin. He would invite him in. He frowned.
Assuming he could invite Malfoy in. He’d said he couldn’t cross the wards.
Somehow feeling safer while still holding the baby, Harry held her in one arm and his wand
in the other as he stepped outside to face his nemesis.
“Is she all right?” Malfoy asked immediately.
“She appears to be fine,” Harry said evenly.
Harry frowned at seeing Malfoy breathe a sigh of relief before the cool mask was back in
place.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in, Potter?” Malfoy sneered.
Harry’s frown turned to a scowl. “Aren’t you afraid I’ve got people waiting to capture you
inside?” he shot back.
Malfoy glanced warily at the house. “You could,” he admitted coolly.
Harry still wasn’t sure why he didn’t have people waiting to capture Malfoy. He’d considered
it, but had decided against it. He arched his eyebrows in surprise that Malfoy seemed to
recognize he could be captured at any moment.
“Do you want to be captured?” Harry questioned in disbelief.
“No,” Malfoy snapped back immediately. “But I’m hoping your damned Gryffindor curiosity
kept you from notifying anyone about my appearance last night. At least, not yet.”
Harry uncomfortably realized that Malfoy was exactly right. He wanted answers and he
wasn’t as likely to get them if he had turned Malfoy over immediately.
Malfoy sneered, seeming to realize from Harry’s silence that he was right. “Invite me in,
Potter, and I’ll explain.”
“You better have some damned good answers, Malfoy,” Harry ground out.
“I’m not explaining out here,” Malfoy snapped at Harry.
Harry glanced around the neighbourhood, and his eyes landed on Mrs. Figg’s house down the
way. He didn’t think he had anyone technically watching him all hours of the day, but he
couldn’t guarantee it. It probably wasn’t the smartest idea to stand out here for long.
“How do I get you past the wards?” he asked.
“Don’t you know anything, Potter?” Malfoy smirked.
“I’ve never invited a Death Eater here before,” Harry retorted.
Malfoy’s eyes shot to his forearm. The long sleeves of his shirt in the warm weather were a
bit of a giveaway. He was exceptionally quiet and much more subdued as he quietly
explained to Harry how to get him past the wards.
Harry hesitated before taking that final step. “How do I know you won’t hurt me or my
relatives as soon as I let you in?”
“You don’t,” Malfoy said flatly, his gaze travelling to the baby again.
Harry frowned. Not understanding why, he said the final words that would allow Malfoy to
enter the property.
Malfoy looked at him in surprise, and Harry realized that Malfoy hadn’t actually expected to
be allowed in. Malfoy regained his composure quickly. “You are far too trusting, Potter,” he
sneered, sauntering down the path to the front door.
Harry’s frown only deepened as he stared after him. He didn’t trust Malfoy, but there was
something going on. Harry relied on his instincts a lot, and his instincts were telling him that
he needed to hear Malfoy out.
He shook his head and followed Malfoy to the house, hoping he wasn’t making a huge
mistake.
*****
If you’d like to be notified of updates (which will usually be every few days), you’re
welcome to join my Yahoo Group.
Chapter One
Chapter Notes
Beginning with Draco's unexpected arrival at the Dursleys, Harry's summer after sixth
year becomes filled with activity and many secrets. As his summer progresses, Harry
generates several unexpected allies as he finds himself actively becoming the leader of
the Light side. H/D, post-HBP, WIP
Author's notes: Beginning with Draco's unexpected arrival at the Dursleys, Harry's summer
after sixth year becomes filled with activity and many secrets. As his summer progresses,
Harry generates several unexpected allies as he finds himself actively becoming the leader of

Beta: Many thanks to Bookgirl!
Chapter Two
“Let me hold her,” Malfoy said the second they were inside and the door was shut.
Harry eyed him distrustfully, but handed the little girl over. Malfoy didn’t look any more
comfortable than Harry with a baby in his arms. He held her as if she was the most precious
and fragile thing in the world and she could break at any moment. His eyes were roaming
over her face, taking in every detail with something akin to awe.
“Malfoy, who is she?” Harry asked.
Malfoy took a deep breath and looked at Harry. “My daughter,” he answered.
Harry’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Your daughter?!”
“Yes, my daughter,” Malfoy sneered. “Are you unable to hear properly?”
Harry felt like he could hear just fine, but it was becoming increasingly clear to him that his
brain was incapable of functioning correctly.
“She’s not an orphan?” he asked dumbly.

“Not yet,” Malfoy muttered, turning away from Harry. He moved into the sitting room and,
despite his look of distaste, he sat down on the couch with the little girl cradled in his arms.
Harry followed him and fell into the armchair. “How? When?”
Malfoy exhaled heavily and handed her gingerly back to Harry. Harry took her automatically,
then watched as Malfoy started pacing the floor.
“I hate you, Potter,” Malfoy said.
“I already know that,” Harry said in exasperation. “Do you need a proclamation in return? If
so, I can happily tell you that I hate you as well.”
Malfoy quirked an eyebrow at him, and Harry was pretty certain Malfoy was amused. “That’s
good to know,” he drawled.
He stopped his pacing suddenly and stared at Harry. “Why did you let me in here? Why
didn’t you attack last night? Why didn’t you have Aurors waiting here for my return since I
said I would be back? For that matter, why aren’t you screaming and yelling at me at least?”
Harry dropped his gaze to the baby he was holding. To the baby he had believed was an
orphan. He met Malfoy’s gaze again. “Because I want answers,” he responded coldly.
“Because I don’t think you’d actually kill me,” he said knowingly, and watched as Malfoy
flinched slightly. Harry paused. “Because somehow, holding a baby tends to slow me down
when it comes to screaming and yelling.”
He had to wonder how he was actually keeping himself under control. The urge to yell and
curse Malfoy was there, but it was overpowered by the small baby and the need for answers.
He hadn’t actually lied to Malfoy, but he had to admit, it did sound a little unbelievable
considering their history—and considering the events just a few weeks previous.
Malfoy seemed to be the one acting even more bizarre. It was actually a little difficult
bringing out his anger when Malfoy wasn’t even acting like himself.
Malfoy resumed his pacing.
“Why did you bring your daughter to me?” Harry asked.
“I didn’t know where else to take her,” Malfoy muttered.
“Malfoy, you do realize most people wouldn’t take their child to their enemy,” Harry said
slowly.
“I know that,” Malfoy sniped. “But no one knows about her.”
Harry blinked. “No one?”
“No, there’s no one alive but me, and now you, that knows she’s my daughter,” Malfoy
replied evenly.
“So, why would you bring her to me?” Harry asked again.
“Who should I take her to?” Malfoy snapped. His shifting moods were going to drive Harry
mental. “I could take her to my mother. Mum would love the baby. Although, I’m not sure
she’ll be overly pleased to learn she’s a grandmother,” he added thoughtfully. “But it
wouldn’t matter for long anyway.”
“Why?” Harry asked, but Malfoy ignored him.
“I could always take her to my dear Aunt Bella,” he sneered.
“No,” Harry growled, tightening his grip on the baby.
Malfoy paused and glanced over at him, but didn’t comment before resuming his pacing.
“Let’s see,” he mused. “Father is in Azkaban. I don’t think that’s a good place for a baby. I
think Wormtail would likely damage her and himself if he tried taking care of her.”
“You know where Wormtail is?” Harry exclaimed loudly, startling the baby who began
crying. “Fuck!”
“Potter! What’d you do to her?” Malfoy asked. “Don’t hurt her!”
“I didn’t hurt her!” Harry snapped. “I think I just scared her.”
“Well, do something!” Malfoy said worriedly. “Fix it!”
Harry paused in his baby bouncing to glare at Malfoy. “You can’t just fix a baby, Malfoy.
Even I know that. And she’s not an it,” he added.
He stood and resumed his bouncing, rocking motion, hoping to calm the baby down while
Malfoy stared at them worriedly. “You know where Wormtail is?” Harry asked again, quietly,
his tone intense.
Malfoy dragged his gaze from the baby to Harry. “Yes, I know where he is. Or I did anyway,”
he amended.
“You don’t know where he’s at now?” Harry asked, disappointment lacing his tone.
Malfoy shrugged, but looked at him sharply. “Why is Wormtail so important to you?”
“He’s an evil, traitorous bastard,” Harry spat angrily.
Malfoy studied him contemplatively, eyes narrowed. “You don’t think too highly of people
you see as traitors, do you? You seem to think about as highly of them as the Dark Lord.”
Harry froze momentarily, but then resumed his bouncing yet again. “It wouldn’t be the first
thing we have in common,” he muttered.
Malfoy’s eyes widened incredulously. “You think you have more in common with the Dark
Lord?”
“I know we have a lot in common. He told me so himself,” Harry retorted.
“Sit down and have a friendly chat, did you?” Malfoy said sarcastically.
Harry tilted his head thoughtfully. “No, I believe we were standing at the time, but at first I
did mistakenly believe he was friendly.”
He chuckled darkly at the look of astonishment that crossed Malfoy’s features, before the
grimace of disgust replaced it. “How could you ever think him friendly? He’s many things,
but I don’t think friendly makes the list,” Malfoy said, his voice reflecting the disgust on his
features.
“Let’s just say he wasn’t quite himself at the time,” Harry said. “Besides, that’s been several
years ago now,” he added dismissively.
“Several years?” Malfoy said in confusion.
“Look, Malfoy,” Harry said, growing impatient with his own taunting. “There’s obviously a
lot you don’t know about me, but we’re not here to talk about me. We’re here to talk about
what the hell you are up to.”
Malfoy glared at him. “I don’t have to tell you anything, Potter.”
“Why don’t you at least tell me this poor little girl’s name?” Harry said crossly. “I don’t even
know what to call her!”
“Victoria Analissa Malfoy,” Malfoy said stiffly. “She’s nine and a half months old. Her
birthday is the first of September.”
“She really is a Malfoy? Your daughter?” Harry asked, cradling the baby so he could look at
her.
“Yes, although no one has actually known her as one. You didn’t believe it?” Malfoy said
defensively.
“I still don’t know what to believe,” Harry mumbled, staring at the baby and trying to see
Malfoy in her features. “I reckon she has your eyes, though.”
“The grey eyes come from both sides of my family,” Malfoy said, sounding stiff again.
Harry glanced up at Malfoy quickly before his gaze went unfocused, staring at something
only he could see. Suddenly, he could picture Sirius’ grey eyes laughing and sparkling with
amusement, or alternatively, when they took on that haunted appearance.
“Potter?”
This baby, Victoria, was part of Sirius’ family. He remembered that Narcissa was Sirius’
cousin. He didn’t know what that made Malfoy and Victoria, but he knew it meant they were
related as well.
Family.
Harry remembered Malfoy’s words.
“I haven’t got any options!” said Malfoy, and he was suddenly white as Dumbledore. “I’ve
got to do it! He’ll kill me! He’ll kill my whole family!”
Malfoy was trying to protect himself and his family, but no one even knew about this tiny
member. She’d be the easiest for Malfoy to protect and keep alive, as Voldemort couldn’t kill
her if he didn’t know about her—if no one knew about her parentage.
“Potter!”
Harry blinked, focusing on Malfoy briefly before staring at the baby again. “Why’d you bring
her to me?” Harry asked, yet again.
Malfoy stared at him in exasperated disbelief along with a touch of irritated anger. “I’ve
answered this already. Who else was I supposed to take her to? It wasn’t like I could take her
to Snape or something.”
Harry looked up sharply. “Why couldn’t you take her to Snape?” he asked harshly. Not that
he wanted the little girl in Snape’s hands, but he wanted to know why Malfoy suddenly didn’t
trust the man.
“Potter, have you lost your bloody mind? Snape is a Death Eater!” Malfoy shouted.
“So are you!” Harry shot back.
“It’s different!” Malfoy shouted.
Their shouting started the baby crying again and Harry groaned in frustration while Malfoy
gazed on worriedly.
“Why don’t you take her?” Harry suggested, trying to hand over the crying baby.
Malfoy shook his head vehemently. “I don’t know how to make her stop.”
“You’re worthless, you know that,” Harry spat.
Malfoy bristled in defence, but Harry spun and marched with the baby up the stairs, leaving
Malfoy behind.
“Potter! Where are you going?” Malfoy demanded.
Harry didn’t bother to answer, taking the baby up to his room where what few baby supplies
he had were stored. He ignored Malfoy, who stood in the doorway watching as Harry laid
Victoria on the bed and changed her nappy. That seemed to make her happy enough for the
moment and Harry settled onto the bed with her.
Malfoy cautiously came inside and sat down in the desk chair. “This is your room?” he
questioned.
Harry was surprised not to hear the sneering tones. “Yes,” he answered simply, looking
around himself. The room was small and had very little that said it was Harry’s room, the
only obvious things being Hedwig’s cage and his trunk.
“You really live like this?” Malfoy asked, sounding bemused.
Harry snorted. “What? Is this fucking with your idea of me living like royalty?”
Malfoy looked at him sharply. “This isn’t what I expected,” he admitted slowly.
Harry shook his head. “Doesn’t matter anyway, I’m almost out of here and I won’t ever be
coming back.”
“Where are you going?” Malfoy asked.
Harry stared at him incredulously. “You actually think I’m going to tell you?”
Malfoy glared at him. “If you have my daughter, I want to have a clue as to where you’re at.”
“Malfoy, have you lost your bloody mind?” Harry repeated Malfoy’s words back to him. “You
are a Death Eater!”
Malfoy dropped his gaze to his forearm, then the floor.
They were silent for several long minutes, and Harry eventually realized that little Victoria
had actually fallen asleep.
“She’s asleep,” he murmured quietly. He got up carefully and moved to his favourite spot at
the window. Watching warily, he saw Malfoy get out his wand and cast a Silencing Charm
around the bed so she wouldn’t be able to hear them. He put his wand away again, and Harry
figured they were free to yell at each other now.
“Where’d you get that baby blanket and the clothes?” Malfoy asked.
That was definitely not the direction Harry wanted the conversation to go. "They were mine,"
he said shortly. “It’s all I had for her.”
Malfoy’s gaze flicked between Harry and Victoria, who was lying on the Quidditch themed
blanket on Harry’s bed. “I’ll try to bring some more things for her,” was all he said.
“You’ve told me why you didn’t take her to other people, but you’ve yet to explain why you
actually brought her to me,” Harry said, changing the subject and proud of his even tones.
Malfoy was back to gazing at the floor. “Because your side won’t kill her,” he said flatly.
“True,” Harry said slowly. “But wouldn’t she be better with someone besides me? Someone
who actually has a clue about babies would be a good start,” he said ruefully.
“You were there that night,” Malfoy said, his voice barely a whisper. “You’re the only one I
have even a chance of convincing that I didn’t want to do it. I just wanted to protect myself
and my family, and that was before I even knew I had a daughter.”
Harry started at that piece of information. Victoria was over nine months old and Malfoy
hadn’t known about her? Harry wasn’t that surprised at the other information Malfoy was
revealing. He was just surprised at the fact that Malfoy was actually admitting it.
“I know family is important to you,” Malfoy continued in a monotone. “Its how I’m always
guaranteed to get a rise out of you. My hope is that you will help at least protect a baby.”
“Dumbledore offered you protection,” Harry said slowly.
Malfoy lifted his gaze. “He’s dead,” he said flatly.
Harry closed his eyes briefly. “Yes, but he offered you protection. Would you even want that
protection?” he asked, opening his eyes again.
Malfoy stared at him. “Are you offering me protection?”
Harry shrugged uncomfortably. He had no clue where he was going with this exactly. He was
simply winging it all based on his instincts. Not the best method maybe, he had to admit, but
overall it seemed to serve him all right. “Maybe,” he answered finally.
Malfoy snorted in disgust. “You’re an idiot, Potter. I haven’t got any options for myself. I
know it and you know it. I’m a bloody Death Eater. My fellow companions,” he spat
viciously, “killed my daughter’s mother and the rest of her family last night. It’s only by
chance that she’d even filled me in on the fact that I had a daughter a few days ago. It’s only
by chance that I learned about the raid that was going to take place in their neighbourhood.
It’s only by chance that I managed to sneak away with my daughter actually alive. I wasn’t
able to save her mother. They were still busy torturing her when I got back there. They hadn’t
even noticed me leaving. I wasn’t able to do anything! If I’d tried, I would’ve been dead,
too!”
Harry stared in horrified silence. Malfoy was breathing heavily, chest heaving as if he’d been
running for an hour instead of just shouting at Harry. The blond dropped his head into his
hands. “I couldn’t help her at all,” he mumbled. “I could only stand there, pretending that
none of it meant anything.”
“You did save Victoria,” Harry said quietly. “You did do something. It sounds like you took a
major risk to do so,” he admitted.
Malfoy lifted his head enough to look at the little one sleeping on Harry’s bed. “I want out,
Potter,” he whispered. “I can’t be a part of that. I never wanted to be a part of something like
this. It wasn't supposed to be like this."
Harry thought about making some sarcastic remark, but kept silent at the look of torment on
Malfoy’s face.
“You know I still can’t trust you,” Harry said finally.
Malfoy turned to look at him, his gaze grim but steady. “You are the only one I can trust,
Potter.”
*****
Malfoy had disappeared shortly after that, saying that he would return the next day, but he
would be missed if he wasn’t back soon.
Harry was left alone to ponder the odd events. He didn’t understand Malfoy. He certainly
didn’t understand what the other boy had meant when he said Harry was the only one he
could trust. It was hard not to believe him, though, when there was living proof.
A few hours later, he was feeling like reality had taken another nose dive when his aunt came
back alone, after dropping Dudley off with his friends, and had a variety of baby things for
Harry.
Harry couldn’t figure out why he had Victoria. He didn’t understand why his aunt was
suddenly helping him. When Aunt Petunia told him she would watch Victoria while he went
up to take a nap, he meekly went.
His brain seemed to have shut down about the time he’d spotted Malfoy the night before. He
lay down and was asleep almost instantly.
*****
He felt it was a good thing he’d taken a chance to sleep while he could, because he was up
most of the night walking a very upset baby. Harry couldn’t really blame her. He was sure she
was missing her mum. They fell into an exhausted sleep in the early hours of the morning.
He woke to the sound of voices, but it took him several moments to register just whose
voices they were.
“You can’t just come into my home and go wherever you please,” Petunia said waspishly.
“I can go wherever I want,” Malfoy sneered.
“I’m not going to let you hurt them,” Petunia snapped.
Harry turned and blinked owlishly at the two occupants invading his room. “Aunt Petunia?
Were you just trying to protect me?” he asked before he could think about what he was
saying.
He fumbled for his glasses and put them on in time to see her pursing her lips at him. “Do
you know him?” she asked, instead of answering Harry’s question.
Harry glanced at the scowling Malfoy. “Yeah, you could say that. He was the one who was
here yesterday.”
She looked warily at Malfoy, but addressed her question to Harry. “Do you want me to take
Victoria downstairs while you talk with your . . . guest?”
Harry really wanted to know who had taken possession of his aunt. He wasn’t given time to
ponder that situation when Malfoy spoke up.
“You are not letting some Muggle watch her,” he ground out.
Harry rolled his eyes. At least Malfoy didn’t seem to be possessed by some strange being
today. “Well, if you’d rather change Victoria’s nappy, then be my guest.”
Malfoy’s eyes widened and he sniffed in disgust. “I will not!”
“Fine, then Aunt Petunia will take her downstairs for a bit,” Harry said calmly.
Malfoy still didn’t look pleased, but he didn’t protest any further as Harry handed Victoria
over to his nervous aunt. She quickly left the room, shutting the door behind her.
Harry fell back onto his bed, groaning. “Why are you here so early, Malfoy?”
“It’s almost ten o’clock,” Malfoy snorted, sounding irritated. “Why isn’t your lazy arse out of
bed yet?”
“Because my lazy arse didn’t get to bed until a few short hours ago,” Harry retorted. “I spent
most of the night trying to console your upset daughter.”
Malfoy’s attitude changed immediately. “Is she all right?”
Harry sighed heavily. “I expect she misses her mum,” he said quietly. He watched as Malfoy
sat down heavily in the desk chair, a pinched look on his face. In fact, Harry realized the boy
looked quite ill. He looked even worse than he had when they were at Hogwarts, and he was
pretty sure he looked even worse than he had the day before.
Harry could almost understand why Malfoy wasn’t fighting him too much. He didn't appear
to have the energy to fight, particularly if he was still having to do his best to keep up
appearances elsewhere.
Harry was still scared of looking too deeply at his own reasons for not fighting so much.
Hermione and Ron would be going mental on him if they knew what was going on. Not that
Harry really knew what was going on. He did know his interactions with the Slytherin were
far more peaceful than they should be, though.
“I need answers, Malfoy,” Harry demanded suddenly.
Malfoy flinched slightly. “About what, Potter?” he asked wearily.

“Your daughter, your loyalties, Snape,” Harry spat. “Those would be some good things to
start with.”
Whatever else was going on, Malfoy seemed to expect the questioning and seemed to have
come prepared to answer this time.
“For Christmas a year and a half ago, my father gave me a girl,” he began tonelessly.
“He gave you a girl?!” Harry exclaimed incredulously.
Malfoy glared at him. “Do you want to hear this or not? If you do, then I suggest you don’t
interrupt.”
Harry stared at him in disbelief, but waved him on without speaking. Malfoy turned his gaze
back to the floor.
“I was fifteen and a Malfoy. My father deemed that it was time for me to become a man,” he
said, sneering slightly in disgust, before it took on that monotone quality again. “The family
was invited to the Manor for Christmas dinner. They were purebloods, but not well-known.
She was sent to Beauxbatons to go to school.”
He took a deep breath, seeming to need to build up strength for what he wanted to say. “She
knew her duty as well as I knew mine. At least, I thought she did. A Malfoy should be
sophisticated and experienced, even in bed, and I was to get that experience with her. I
suppose I got that experience,” he said bitterly.
“You don’t sound too happy about it,” Harry risked inserting quietly.
“I don’t even like girls!” Malfoy shouted before taking a deep breath to calm himself again.
Harry’s eyes widened. “You’re a pouf?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes,” Malfoy snapped maliciously. “Which makes it
all the more unbelievable that I have a baby.”
“How? Why?” Harry asked.
Malfoy sneered. “She got pregnant, Potter. Surely even you could figure that much out.”
Harry’s eyes flashed. “I understand that part,” he retorted angrily. “But why didn’t you take
precautions and why didn’t you know until recently and why doesn’t anyone else know?”
“She got pregnant because we didn’t know what the bloody hell we were doing. I didn’t
know because she never bothered to tell me. The baby was born a couple of weeks early and
she lied to her parents and said she’d been with some other boy. They seemed to accept her
word. Why? I have no bloody idea,” Malfoy spat. “Likely her parents were simply ashamed
that she was having a baby so young and without being married, so they didn’t dig too deeply
and they kept it as quiet as they could.”
He was up and pacing the small room as he became more and more agitated. “She knew I
didn’t want to have anything to do with her and so she kept it from me. I’d like to say she
was a spiteful bitch, but I think she believed she was respecting my wishes. But then she sent
me an owl a few days ago saying she needed to talk to me. I don’t know why, but I didn’t tell
anyone about it and went to meet her in private.”
He paused and sneered in disgust. Harry wasn’t sure who or what he was disgusted with,
though. “I got the whole bloody story from her. She was contacting me because she was
afraid,” Malfoy continued. “She’d seen everything happening. She knew I was connected
with the Death Eaters. She was hoping that if I knew the truth, that I’d be able to help protect
her. She did have a Malfoy child, after all.”
Malfoy ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “I didn’t even have time to figure out
what to do. She was right to be scared. The Dark Lord was targeting their area for another
attack. I didn’t learn about the attack until too late, though. I normally don’t go along on the
raids. I’ve been at Hogwarts most of the year and been able to avoid it. They were pleased
when I actually volunteered to go. All I could do was go along and hope that I’d be able to do
something.”
“You did do something,” Harry interjected softly.
“I watched her die, Potter!” Malfoy shouted. “I couldn’t do a damned thing to save her.”
“You saved Victoria,” Harry said.
“But I couldn’t save her mother! I couldn’t save her grandparents!” Malfoy yelled in
frustration. “All I could do was stand there!”
“I know how that feels,” Harry said. His voice was quiet, but the mournful tone effectively
caught Malfoy’s attention.
Malfoy froze, staring wide-eyed at Harry.
“I’ve watched people die, and it hurts like hell when there’s absolutely nothing you can do,”
Harry said, his voice catching.
Malfoy collapsed into the chair again and dropped his head into his hands. “I didn’t really
want to kill him. I didn’t really want to hurt anyone else, either,” he mumbled.
Harry watched as Malfoy seemed to torture himself with his thoughts, and wondered if that’s
what he himself often looked like when he was berating himself for the deaths that he hadn’t
been able to prevent. He was feeling a certain detachment, but he was learning that it was the
only way he was able to deal with things.
“I think you’re on the wrong side, Malfoy,” he said quietly after several minutes had passed.
Malfoy slowly looked up at him with bloodshot eyes. “I know,” he said simply. “But I can’t
get out. Not alive.”
“If we could get your mother away, would you leave the Death Eaters?” Harry asked.
“I don’t know,” Malfoy muttered. “There’s still my father, too.”
Harry desperately wanted to spit out some scathing insult about Lucius Malfoy, but managed
to refrain. He didn’t know why he felt it was so important to convince Malfoy, but he didn’t
want to mess it up now that he seemed to be making some progress.
Actually, he did know one of the major reasons. It was one of the last things that Dumbledore
was trying to do before he died. Harry was trying, in his own way, to follow through with the
old man’s wishes.
Then there was Victoria to consider. Harry had spent almost his entire life without his
parents. He really didn’t want to see that happen to the little girl if he could help it.
Malfoy could still be trying to play him, but Harry didn’t think so. He’d been watching
Malfoy for far too long. He’d known the boy had been up to something the previous year, but
he wasn’t getting the same feeling now.
There was also Malfoy’s appearance to consider. The boy looked so unhealthy and didn’t
look like he was even up to playing any tricks. He wasn’t even up to arguing properly. The
only time he’d pulled his wand was in regards to Victoria. He certainly hadn’t tried to attack
Harry in any way. He could be trying to lure Harry in and this could all be some elaborate lie,
but it didn’t feel like that.
He knew he didn’t trust Malfoy. The question was more whether he could trust his own
instincts or not.
“Potter?”
Harry focused and looked over at Malfoy. “What?”
Malfoy frowned. “Do you really think you could provide someplace safe for me and my
family?”
“I don’t know,” Harry admitted. “Dumbledore would’ve just casually gotten everyone to go
along with his wishes. I don’t know that anyone would believe anything I say.”
Malfoy’s shoulders slumped in defeat, but he looked at Harry curiously. “You do know that
you are the leader of the Light side now, don’t you?”
Harry looked at him in surprise. "I'm not anyone's leader."
“I’m afraid it’s extremely sad but true,” Malfoy mocked.
“Shut it, Malfoy,” Harry scowled. “I’m not even seventeen yet. I’m not sure I can get anyone
to listen to me.” Which was true enough. He couldn’t even get Ron and Hermione to believe
anything he said half the time, reminded of all the times during the past year that he’d tried to
convince them Malfoy was up to something. He still didn’t want to think about what they
would have to say about this if or when they found out.
“You can’t even legally use magic yet,” Malfoy said in realization.
“I can still defend myself if necessary,” Harry said warningly.
Malfoy held his hands up. “I know that,” he retorted. “My point being, you can’t do much
else.”
Harry grimaced, thinking that over. Things had probably changed now that he was granted
permission to use his magic. He’d originally decided to stick around at the Dursleys until his
birthday. Once he could use magic freely, then he had planned to leave. He’d also originally
planned to go to Godric’s Hollow first, but he’d since decided that he needed to stop in at
Grimmauld Place.
He sat up suddenly. “I may have a place for you to go,” he breathed.
Malfoy looked at him with wary hope. “Are you certain?”
“No, I’m not certain of anything at the moment,” Harry snapped. “But I’ve got a possibility.”
“But you also can’t check it out yet,” Malfoy said in resignation.
Harry softened, despite himself. “I can check it out soon. I just don’t know who has access to
the place.”
“I didn’t expect you to be able to do anything,” Malfoy sighed.
“Malfoy, I can’t even really take care of Victoria,” Harry pointed out.
“You have to!” Malfoy said wildly, coming to life again.
“I have a war to fight, Malfoy! How do you expect me to be able to do that while taking care
of a baby?” he asked.
“There’s no one else!” Malfoy yelled.
“I could take her to the Weasleys or something,” Harry suggested. “I’m sure I could find
someone who would be better able to take care of her.”
“No!” Malfoy said forcefully. “She’s not going to the Weasels or to any Mudbloods. Or to
some bloody werewolf, either,” he added.
“You shut your mouth!” Harry shouted.
“I don’t want them taking care of my daughter!” Malfoy shouted furiously. “I don’t like
them!”
“You don’t like me, either!” Harry snapped back.
“No, I don’t, but I at least trust you!” Malfoy shouted.
“Why?!” Harry questioned in frustrated anger, running his hands through his hair so he didn’t
punch the bloody git.
“Because you don’t want my daughter to end up a bloody orphan like you!”
That cut right to the core of things, Harry thought. This new . . . truce was grounded in one
little baby.
Thinking about it, he truly doubted that the others would have quite the same motivation as
Harry regarding Malfoy’s welfare. They didn't really understand what it was like to grow up
with no parents. They would consider it good riddance if Malfoy disappeared out of the little
girl’s life, but Harry wasn’t so sure it was that simple. Malfoy was still her father, whether
anyone liked it or not.
“You trust people, Potter,” Malfoy said quietly. “You trust more than anyone else I know.” He
hesitated before adding, “You trust almost like Dumbledore trusted people.”
Harry felt the flash of pain in his chest and closed his eyes to ward against it. He still heard
Malfoy’s words as he continued.
“I hate you and you hate me. Yet, you are still likely to be the only one who will even give
me a chance,” he whispered.
“I don’t want to give you a chance,” Harry said petulantly.
Malfoy seemed to recognize that Harry didn’t truly mean it and smirked. “No, I’m sure you
don’t, but you’ll do it anyway.”
“I don’t know that you even deserve a chance,” Harry said. “Just a few short weeks ago I
would have gladly done anything I could to hurt you. You almost killed Katie and Ron and
that doesn’t even count Dumbledore.”
Malfoy looked pained. “You’re right. I’m not sure I deserve a chance, either. But I want one,”
he whispered.
They lapsed into a long silence, both of them caught up in their own grief and regrets.
“Hey, Malfoy?”
“What?”
“Did you actually say I was right about something?” Harry asked.
“Don’t get used to it, Potter,” Malfoy said wryly.
Harry grinned suddenly. “Wouldn’t expect it from you,” he admitted.
*****
Chapter Three
Chapter Notes

Chapter Three
“Why haven’t you gone to Snape?” Harry asked warily. They hadn’t gotten to that topic
before Draco had had to leave the previous day.
“He’s a bloody Death Eater, Potter!” Draco exclaimed. “How many times do I have to tell
you that?”
“But hasn’t he been helping you all year?” Harry questioned.
Draco snorted. “No. He’s been on my bloody back all year. I reckon he was trying to make
sure I was getting the job done right,” he said bitterly. “I was under strict orders to do it
myself. You don’t break orders unless you want to be killed.”
Harry’s eyes widened at what Draco was unintentionally revealing to him and he ducked his
head to hide his surprise. Harry felt his heart beating faster in hope. Maybe there was a
chance that his suspicions were correct.
“The man killed Dumbledore for you and saved your arse,” Harry forced himself to spit out,
feeling sick at the memory, but refusing to dwell on it. He needed to gather this information.
Draco exhaled heavily. “I know he saved my arse,” he said wearily. “Honestly? He’s been a
huge support. Unfortunately, it’s been support for the Dark side.”
His gaze grew distant as he continued. “He was forced into an Unbreakable Vow last summer.
My mother went to him, pleading with him to help me. Aunt Bella has never quite trusted
him and made him actually take a vow that he would help protect me. I didn’t learn about it
until after . . . after all that happened. When I was able to go home again, my mother told me
about it.”
Harry was listening intently and tensed at the mention of Bellatrix. His mind was swirling,
trying to figure out what this meant regarding Snape’s loyalties. Draco seemed to firmly
believe Snape was on the Dark side. Bellatrix doubted that, though.
As Harry listened to Draco describe the terms of the Unbreakable Vow, he realized that Snape
was magically bound to kill Dumbledore under those circumstances. Would Dumbledore
have known about the vow?
Dumbledore said he had known about Draco’s attempts to murder him. The old man had
known about the task that Draco had been assigned by Voldemort. How else would he have
known unless Snape told him? Dumbledore always seemed to know everything. Well, not
everything. He hadn’t known about the Vanishing Cabinets.
“Did Snape know what you were doing with the Vanishing Cabinets?” Harry asked suddenly.
Draco blinked in surprise at Harry’s outburst, before shaking his head. “I refused to tell him
what I was doing. I needed to prove to the Dark Lord that I was worthy.”
“So he wouldn’t kill you,” Harry said absently.
“Yes,” Draco admitted, but he frowned at Harry’s attitude. “What’s with you all of a
sudden?”
Harry looked at him and realized Draco was getting suspicious. “I’m just trying to make
sense of everything you’re telling me.”
Draco’s features relaxed and Harry breathed an inward sigh of relief. He didn’t think it was a
smart idea to let Draco in on his suspicions. Because he was coming to believe that Snape
really was still on the Light side, despite outward appearances.
Harry was the only one who knew what had happened to Dumbledore that night. He’d
known, whether he wanted to admit it or not at the time, that Dumbledore had been dying. As
much as it pained him, he was fairly certain the old man would’ve died, even if Snape hadn’t
killed him. He was forced to wonder if that was why Dumbledore had said Snape was the
only one who could actually help him at that point.
“I know you don’t like Snape, and with good reason,” Draco said quietly. “But he does have
a good side. He may be on the wrong side, but he’s been doing his best to take care of me.”
“And that means a lot to you,” Harry said, but it came out sounding like a question.
“Yes,” Draco admitted. “Especially since my father got locked up in Azkaban. My mother
could only help me so much. Snape has helped.”
Harry winced, waiting for Draco to lay into him regarding his father’s imprisonment. They
had avoided that little topic so far.
Draco’s face twisted into a grimace. “I still don’t like it, but I do know he deserved it,” he
admitted.
Harry looked at him in shock.
Draco didn’t look pleased with Harry’s reaction and looked away. “I love my father. I’m just
not so . . . blind anymore,” he said quietly.
Harry knew there wasn’t anything he could say, so he showed what respect he could by
remaining silent. He’d felt bad when it had been shown to him that his own father was a
bully. It didn’t stop him from loving the man he didn’t even remember. He couldn’t imagine
how Draco was feeling. He knew his father and loved him, but learned that his father had
been doing far worse than bullying schoolmates.
They were quiet for several minutes until Harry spoke up hesitantly. “Do you blame me for
all of this?”
“For all of what?” Draco asked warily.
Harry closed his eyes. “For getting your father put in Azkaban. For his imprisonment causing
Voldemort to focus on you.”
Draco sighed heavily. “I did,” he admitted. “Until I started seeing what the Dark Lord was
really like and started seeing what kinds of things his followers do to people. I slowly came
to realize that it didn’t really have anything to do with you. It was the Dark Lord’s fault for
leading you there in the first place.”
“I was trying to protect what family I had,” Harry said.
“Like me, you did what you had to do,” Draco said softly.
“Yeah,” Harry agreed. He was coming to realize that maybe he and Draco weren’t quite so
different after all. They had both grown up with a bunch of expectations dumped on their
shoulders, and both really just wanted to live in peace with their families.
He sighed, realizing he didn’t have much of a family anymore. But if he could, maybe he’d
be able to help Draco keep his intact.
*****
The next day, Harry was sitting in front of his window again, watching Draco interact with
his daughter. Draco didn’t seem to know quite what to do with her, but he did seem to enjoy
the time spent with her. Harry had no doubts that he loved the little girl.
He was startled when Hedwig suddenly flew past him through the open window.
“Hey, girl,” he said softly, taking the letter from her. He gave her some owl treats before
sitting back down to read the letter. He ignored Draco’s curious, wary gaze.
Harry,
We haven’t heard from you for a few days now and we’re worried about you. Write back so
we know you’re safe. I do hope you haven’t tried taking off on your own.
You know you can come here to the Burrow at any time. I don’t think you have to actually stay
there until your birthday. I know you said you wanted this time alone, but I still don’t think it’s
very healthy for you.
The wedding is set for the third of August still. You will be coming here on your birthday,
won’t you? I suppose we’ll need to take you shopping that day. We can’t have you attending
the wedding wearing your usual scruffy clothes.
I’m afraid I still haven’t been able to find any more information. I had hoped to be able to get
into Snuffles’ house and look through the library there, but we’ve found out that no one can
get into it. I know what you were told, but it seems that maybe others have taken it over after
all. I know you don’t want to hear that and I’m sorry to be telling you the news in a letter, but
I felt it best you should know. I didn’t want you to risk trying to go there by yourself.
I’ll still keep searching for any information, but there doesn’t seem to be much useful so far.
Don’t lose hope, Harry. We’ll find something soon that’ll help.
Everyone’s thinking about you and asking about you. Ron’s worried, not that he’d ever admit
that. Ginny’s worried as well, but she keeps saying you’ll be all right. Remus stopped by here
today and he’s concerned about you being all alone, too. I do hope you’ll reconsider.
Write soon,
Hermione
Harry sighed and closed his eyes. Most of it wasn’t really news to him, but it was definitely
news to him about Grimmauld Place. He knew it was upsetting him for more reasons that
what Hermione would have been expecting, though. He was counting on the old house being
a safe place to take Victoria and Draco.
Frowning, he tried to remember what Dumbledore had told him just a couple months before.
It was something to the effect that Grimmauld Place would only be accessible to those who
would need it most. At the time, he had thought that meant himself along with Ron and
Hermione. But if they hadn’t been able to get in . . . and no one else from the Order had been
able to . . .
“Malfoy!”
Draco startled. He’d been watching Harry warily, but hadn’t expected the sudden outburst.
“What?”
“Has there been any mention of Voldemort or his followers taking over property belonging to
the Light side?” Harry asked.
Draco frowned. “Potter, the Dark Lord is taking over property left and right.”
“I know that,” Harry said impatiently. “I mean important property. Like important to the war
effort.”
Draco shook his head slowly. “I don’t think so.”
“I can Apparate without the Ministry coming down on me, right?” Harry asked quickly.
He’d given in and shown Draco the message from the Ministry. Draco had been irritated that
he’d inadvertently helped Harry again. There’d been some tense moments as they both
remembered the Remembrall incident from first year, but Draco knew about Harry being
allowed to use magic now. Harry just wasn’t entirely sure being allowed to use magic also
applied to Apparition since you were supposed to get a special license for that. But he was
sure that Draco remembered and understood the formal wording better than he did.
“Yes,” Draco answered. “Are you planning on going somewhere?”
Harry stilled for a moment. Hermione had just finished warning him not to go to Grimmauld
Place by himself. He didn’t really believe it had been taken over by the Dark side, though,
and he had a little more information to go on than she did.
Possibly he’d find one member of the Dark side there, though.
“Can you stay with Victoria for awhile?” Harry asked, in a hurry now that he’d made a
decision.
“I can stay for a couple hours, but where are you going?” Draco asked.
“Then I’ll be back by then,” Harry said decisively.
He ignored Draco’s shouts to wait and hurried down the stairs and out of the house. He ran to
the alley behind the house where he could Apparate safely and screwed up his courage. He
hadn’t had much opportunity to practice Apparating for a bit, but he was sure he could do it.
He needed to do it.
"Destination, Determination, Deliberation!"
Focusing, Harry closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was in the alley near
Grimmauld Place. Grinning at his success, he hurried to the house down the way.
Taking a deep breath, the door opened at his touch and he slipped inside. He shivered in the
dark, gloomy silence as he carefully shut the door behind him. Wand tightly in hand, he stood
for at least a couple of minutes, listening intently and trying to determine if he was alone or
not.
Not hearing anything, he slowly made his way down to the kitchen in the basement. He
slipped into the room, almost expecting to be ambushed at any moment. Hermione believed
this place to have been taken over. Just because he’d been able to get in, didn’t exactly render
it safe.
He blinked in the brighter light of the kitchen, allowing his vision to adjust. Glancing quickly
around the room, he realized two things. He was alone, and this room definitely didn’t look
as if anyone had been living there for months. Thick layers of dust coated everything, but in
many places it had been disturbed. But even where it had been noticeably disturbed, there
was still an extra layer of dust.
Suddenly he remembered Mundungus and the silver he’d obviously stolen from here. It had
only been a couple months since Dumbledore had mentioned the wards being changed.
Frowning, he wondered if Kreacher had even been there at all. He had ordered Kreacher to
work at Hogwarts, but the damned house elf was known for sneaking around. He didn’t want
to think of the creepy house elf or Mundungus, and pushed those thoughts aside.
Looking around, nothing seemed to be out of place. Until he noticed the book on the table.
The dust-free book. Harry inched forward until he could read the title. Occlumency: Defence
of the Mind.
Snatching up the battered book, Harry quickly flipped it over. And there at the bottom—
Property of the Half-Blood Prince.
Harry grinned widely. He was right! The greasy, sadistic bastard was on the right side!
He flopped down on one of the dusty chairs, not realizing or caring how filthy he was getting.
The brief euphoria he felt faded away as all his doubts and questions flooded his mind again.
Technically he could still be wrong. Snape could be playing some kind of trick or laying
down a trap. Even Draco had said repeatedly that Snape was a true Death Eater and only
loyal to Voldemort. He’d flat out stated that Snape was Voldemort’s most loyal follower and
was the evil creature’s right hand man.
Harry shuddered as he saw the vision of Snape killing Dumbledore again. The man had
looked so full of rage and hatred.
Crossing his arms and dropping his head to the table, Harry could feel the grief and anger
trying to rise again. He reminded himself that Dumbledore would not want him to waste time
grieving. He’d grieved all he could allow himself while he was still at Hogwarts.
The anger wasn’t nearly as easy to force aside, but he pictured Dumbledore in his mind,
frowning at him with gentle reproach. He only had his memories of the man to help him now.
And the old man had trusted Snape.
Harry sighed. He didn’t know how many times Dumbledore had repeated that to him. More
than Harry cared to count. He still didn’t like Dumbledore’s methods, but he didn’t truly
believe the old man had ever lied to him. Withheld information, yes, outright lied, no. Which
meant Snape could be trusted.
He groaned in frustration. Logic had never been his strong point. This was Hermione’s and,
ironically, Snape’s area of expertise. He could easily remember the logic problem of potions
that was Snape’s defence against the Philosopher’s Stone.
Those thoughts led him back into the memories of all the times Snape had saved Harry in one
way or another. Harry still didn’t like Snape’s methods, though, either.
He couldn’t help but wonder for what seemed the thousandth time, why hadn’t Snape
captured him when he’d been fleeing Hogwarts? Harry had tried, but he knew he’d been
extremely ineffective when trying to duel Snape. Forcing himself to go back and think about
it, he knew Snape could’ve easily taken him.
Instead, Snape had left and essentially sent Harry back to Hogwarts to deal with
Dumbledore’s death. If he really was more loyal to Voldemort, why hadn’t he taken Harry?
Harry shook his head, unwittingly coating his hair with dust. He didn’t notice, too lost in his
thoughts. Lifting his head, he stared at the book.
He knew it was Snape’s. The man had obviously set it there recently, considering the lack of
dust. Snape would know that there was no one else to teach Harry Occlumency. He also knew
Harry hadn’t learned it yet.
Sighing, Harry randomly flipped through the pages of the book. Considering he hadn’t seen it
before, it felt familiar. Just like the potions book, it had notations written throughout all the
pages.
Harry had never been able to grasp Occlumency and had given up. Snape had given up on
him before he’d even started. Even Dumbledore seemed to have given it up the past year.
What made him think he could grasp the concept now?
Frowning, Harry realized he’d never been able to learn potions from Snape, but he’d been
learning the subject decently enough from the Half-Blood Prince. He actually liked the Half-
Blood Prince and considered him almost a friend.
He’d been shocked and . . . hurt when he realized who it really was. He still had trouble
recognizing that the two people were one and the same.
But if he’d been able to learn potions, did that mean he could also learn Occlumency from the
Half-Blood Prince?
Harry’s frown deepened. He knew what Hermione would say. She’d definitely vote against it.
She’d never liked the Half-Blood Prince. She also didn’t believe Harry was actually learning
anything. Maybe it was a little unorthodox and maybe he hadn’t learned it quite as well as his
potion-brewing and his grades would indicate, but he had been learning. Far more than he’d
ever learned from Snape.
Snape was the Half-Blood Prince, though. Harry groaned in frustration. He was just going in
circles again.
He snatched up the book. If Snape was giving him a different method of learning it, then he
would take the opportunity. He stuffed the book in the waistband of his jeans and pulled his
shirt over the top to hide it.
He had to get back to Privet Drive. Still lost in his thoughts, he made his way back to the
alley and, concentrating briefly, he Apparated back. Dazedly, he made his way back up to his
room.
“Merlin! Where have you been, Potter?” Draco exclaimed, his nose wrinkled in disgust.
Harry blinked in surprise before looking down at himself, finally noticing that he was filthy.
He didn’t notice the look of relief that briefly crossed Draco’s features.
“Um, I had someplace that I had to check out,” Harry mumbled distractedly. If Snape could
get into Grimmauld Place, maybe it wouldn’t be a safe place to take Draco and his family.
But if Snape really was on the right side . . .
“Potter!”
“What?” Harry snapped, lifting his head.
“You have to quit disappearing in your head,” Draco snapped. “Do you have the ability to
stay focused on anything?”
Harry scowled. “I’ve got a lot on my mind at the moment.”
“Well, it’s certainly not on your appearance,” Draco retorted. “Even Granger doesn’t have
any faith in you being able to dress yourself.”
“What are you doing reading my mail?” Harry said angrily.
“You left it lying out, so I didn’t think you’d mind,” Draco drawled, suddenly going casual.
“It was my mail, Malfoy. But I reckon I shouldn’t have expected you to respect anyone’s
privacy,” Harry said, still scowling.
“You risked going by yourself to wherever it is that Granger said you shouldn’t, didn’t you?”
Draco asked slowly, studying Harry contemplatively.
Harry sighed heavily. “Er, yeah, I did.”
Draco’s eyes raked over Harry’s dusty body. “And judging by your appearance, it’s deserted,
but you were able to get in.”
Harry’s eyes narrowed. “I can’t tell you anything about it.”
Draco heaved a sigh of frustration. “Potter, I’ve been passing on a lot of information to you.”
“I don’t trust you, Malfoy,” Harry said coldly. “You keep telling me how I trust too much, but
even I have my limits. At the moment there’s nothing I can tell you about it, and you’re just
going to have to deal with it.”
Draco eyed him coolly for several long moments. “Fine,” he said finally. “I understand.”
Harry raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Do you?”
“If I were in your position, I would never have allowed me to even get this close. I certainly
wouldn’t be revealing information that could be important,” Draco admitted slowly. “I don’t
like it, but yes, I do understand.”
Harry stared at him. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
“What?” Draco asked warily.
“I was wondering what the hell you did with Draco bloody Malfoy,” Harry said
conversationally.
Draco laughed harshly. “I’ve been wondering that myself,” he muttered. He shook his head
and glared at Harry. “Go clean up, Potter. I’m not letting you touch Victoria when you’re
looking like that.”
Harry rolled his eyes, but had to agree. He was a filthy mess. He scrounged up some clean
clothes and stepped out to shower. He stuffed the book underneath a huge stack of towels,
intending to retrieve it after Draco left.
Once he was cleaned up and still dripping water from his wet hair, he made his way back to
the bedroom. He still didn’t know what he was doing trusting Draco in the Dursley’s house.
Opening the bedroom door and hearing the giggles coming from the little girl, he had the
feeling he was hearing the answer to his question.
“I’ve got to go,” Draco said, looking up as soon as Harry entered the room.
Harry simply nodded. They’d already established the fact that Draco was taking a huge risk
coming here at all, and he couldn’t take even more of a risk by being gone too long. Harry
still hadn’t established where Draco was at when he wasn’t at the Dursley’s house, though.
Harry wasn’t sure he really wanted the answer to that. It didn’t seem as big of a priority at the
moment.
“I’ll try to come back again in the morning,” Draco said, and Harry could hear the question in
his tone.
Harry nodded again. “That’s fine,” he said. “You can come back tomorrow, but you can’t
come the next two days.”
“Why not?” Draco asked, sounding both wary and irritated.
“Because it’ll be the weekend,” Harry said with a shrug. “I don’t know where Dudley’s been
hiding out these days, but Uncle Vernon at least will be here. There’s not a chance in hell
he’d stay quiet if he knew you were coming here. With the Silencing Charms up on my room,
he hasn’t had any cause to complain about Victoria, and I’m not even sure he realizes that
she’s still here,” he said, glancing at the little girl.
It was easy enough to keep a jug of water to make bottles in his room and do any washing
while Vernon was at work. Harry always bathed the little girl during the day. He rarely
ventured out of his room when his uncle was home and Victoria didn’t go out at all.
Draco was staring at Harry, frowning. “I reckon it’s good that less people know I’m around
here,” he said slowly. Harry was sure that Draco wanted to ask him more questions about his
uncle, but he refrained.
“I’ve got to go,” Draco repeated. He paused briefly in the doorway. “I believe she needs
changed again,” he added, before he was gone.
“Damn you, Malfoy!”
He could hear the laughter in the hallway, but knew it was useless trying to say anything else.
Draco wouldn’t even hear him now that the door was shut, what with the one way Silencing
Charm on the room.
He continued to curse Draco under his breath as he changed Victoria. He still fumbled a little,
but was a little amazed at how proficient he was feeling overall. She hadn’t been in his care
long, but he was beginning to get a handle on this baby care. He still didn’t think he was the
best one for the job, but wasn’t sure what else to do.
Draco didn’t want him to take her to the Weasleys or any of his other friends, and Harry
didn’t directly agree with that, but he had to admit it would bring about a lot of unanswerable
questions.
He had no idea what he was doing with Draco himself. There was no way he could
adequately explain the situation to his friends. They were already too concerned about his
mental health as it was.
*****
Chapter Four
Chapter Notes

Chapter Four
By the time Monday arrived, Harry himself was concerned about his mental health. He was
willing to admit he didn’t have any clue about babies, Occlumency, Draco, Snape, Horcruxes,
Voldemort, his friends—none of it. He’d thought he’d been exhausted before. He’d been so
incredibly wrong.
Aunt Petunia was only so much help. Once she’d decided Draco was safe, a risky conclusion
on her part, she’d refused to offer any more help when he was around. This hadn’t been so
bad during the week, even though she offered very little help at any other time, either,
retreating back to her typical treatment of Harry. There was nothing remotely resembling help
when Uncle Vernon was around.
Harry had tried reading the Occlumency book, but wasn’t getting very far. He didn’t have
many opportunities when he wasn’t tending to Victoria, and when he did have time, the
words just swam on the page because he was too exhausted to read. Draco had been surly and
unapproachable and hadn’t remained long on Friday. Simply long enough to check in.
Harry frowned, realizing that “checking in” sounded fairly accurate. It was like he was
checking in with Harry, making sure Harry knew he was still there and somewhat willing to
go along with Harry. Did that mean Draco really was switching sides?
He shook his head, not having a clue. He had no idea what made him start associating with
Draco in the first place. He certainly had no clue as to why he was continuing to do so.
Thinking about Snape gave him the same sense of helpless confusion. He simply couldn’t
think clearly and rationally at the moment.
He’d barely had a chance to try to work on the Horcrux problem. His mind shied away when
the word first tried to make an appearance. Thinking about Voldemort at all just gave him a
pounding headache. Needing a break, he’d actually gone downstairs for breakfast and there’d
been a simple exchanged glance with his aunt when Uncle Vernon reported the latest
catastrophe in the paper.
Something had to change. He felt for the little girl, but he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t take
care of her and try to save the world at the same time.
Harry was pacing his room with the crying baby when Draco showed up again. The second
he stepped into the room, Harry handed Victoria to him. He startled Draco, but he didn’t care
in the slightest. After handing the baby off, he collapsed on the bed, burying his head under
his pillow.
“Potter! What’s wrong with her?” Draco exclaimed anxiously.
Harry mumbled something, but realized Draco wouldn’t be able to understand him. He flung
the pillow off his head. “Aunt Petunia said she’s probably just teething. That’s why she’s
drooling all over herself, and everything else,” he added. “I’ve given her some medicine, but
it only lasts so long before she’s crying again,” he said helplessly.
“Can’t you do anything else?” Draco asked worriedly.
“I don’t know!” Harry exclaimed. “Aunt Petunia told me to give her a wet flannel to chew on
and that seems to help a little. But Victoria’s mouth is hurting her and her mum’s gone and
she’s stuck here with me. I’d be crying my head off, too!”
He turned bloodshot, pleading eyes on Draco. “I’m tired,” he whinged. “I’m not helping her.
It feels like all I’ve done is hold her for the last two days straight. It’s the only real way I can
get her to quiet down at all.”
“Is she always this loud?” Draco questioned.
Harry frowned, looking at the baby. “Actually, no,” he admitted. Heaving a sigh, he pushed
himself off the bed and reached for her again. She didn’t stop crying, but she quieted a little.
“She’s used to you,” Draco said softly.
“But I can’t do this!” Harry said beseechingly. “I’m slowly going mad!”
Draco quirked a half-smile. “You were already mad, Potter.”
Harry growled at the blond, and Draco took a step back, the smile wiped off his face. “What
do you want me to do?” Draco asked.
“I don’t know!” Harry snapped irritably. He continued to pace for the next twenty minutes,
the baby’s cries slowly dwindling into the occasional hiccupping sob. He cautiously lay down
on the bed with her and she settled down with him, falling into an exhausted sleep.
Harry closed his eyes, grateful for the respite. He startled when Draco spoke quietly. “Have
you fallen asleep as well?”
Blearily, Harry cracked open his eyes. “Almost,” he said irritably. “Until you opened your fat
mouth.”
Draco quirked that half-smile again, before he sobered. “I wish I could give you one of the
house-elves,” he said. “That’s who helped take care of me as a baby.”
“That explains a lot,” Harry muttered.
Draco glared, but didn’t retaliate. “I can’t give you one, because people would notice.”
Harry carefully extracted Victoria from his arms and slowly sat up, frowning. “House-elves
really help with the babies?”
“Of course they do,” Draco snapped.
Harry scowled. “How am I supposed to know that? I was raised here, remember?”
Draco scowled, but then looked around the room curiously. “How come it doesn’t look like
you’ve ever lived here?” he asked.
Harry closed his eyes. He wasn’t about to explain to the blond that until he started Hogwarts,
this hadn’t even been his room. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said. “What I was asking
about was house-elves.”
When he opened his eyes again, he realized Draco was frowning at him, but Draco did drop it
and go back to the house-elf issue. “House-elves are meant to be useful and if you had one,
they’d help with Victoria so you could get some sleep, if nothing else,” he explained.
Harry scowled, hearing Draco’s low opinion of house-elves in his tone, but like Draco, he
managed to refrain from comment. He was so exhausted that he was willing to consider the
house-elf idea, firmly pushing Hermione’s outraged nagging from his mind.
He actually owned a house-elf, but he shuddered at the thought of allowing Kreacher

anywhere near Victoria. Although, he had to admit, Kreacher himself might actually consider
it an honour with how highly he praised Draco. He scowled to himself. There was no way he
was letting Kreacher near her.
Dobby sang Harry’s praises and he knew Dobby would do anything he asked. But the thought
of Dobby around constantly didn’t really bode well for Harry’s safety or Victoria’s. He
wasn’t certain that he’d actually get any more rest than he was now.
Suddenly, Winky popped into his head. Didn’t she take care of Crouch since he was a baby?
Merlin knew she was loyal. Harry frowned. She had originally been bound to that family and
she’d since fallen apart, though. Even with the job at Hogwarts, she hadn’t been able to pull
herself together. She wanted a family to bind to.
“How do you bind a house-elf?” Harry asked suddenly. “Can you bind a house-elf just to a
baby?”
Draco looked at him like he’d grown two heads. “First off, you can’t just find a house-elf
anywhere. They belong to the oldest, wealthiest families. And second, because they belong to
families, you couldn’t bind one to a baby. Who would they take orders from?”
Harry had been afraid of that. He still didn’t like Draco’s take on house-elves, but he
understood the point that he was making about being bound to a baby.
“But this is only temporary,” Harry said absently. “I can’t bind myself to another house-elf.
And Hermione would kill me if I did.”
“Another house-elf?” Draco questioned.
Harry rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’ve got one that sings your praises any chance he gets,” he said
in disgust.
Draco raised a brow in surprise. “It likes me?”
“I wouldn’t feel too privileged,” Harry said. “He’s a foul creature. There’s no way in hell I’d
trust Victoria to his care.”
Draco opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again. Harry didn’t even notice.
“I need help, though. There’s just no way I can do this,” Harry murmured his thoughts aloud.
“I couldn’t sleep before and now it’s almost impossible. I’ve got so much to do, and I just
can’t do it with a baby. But I can’t leave her alone.”
He blinked and looked over to Draco. “Are you sure I can’t take Victoria to the Weasleys?
They would surely take wonderful care of her.”
Draco’s sneer of disgust was enough to answer Harry’s question, but his words added to it.
“What do you think would happen if they found out she was mine?” he snapped.
“They’re not going to harm a defenceless baby,” Harry said, horrified that Draco would think
such a thing.
Draco rolled his eyes. “No, but they’d make damned sure that I never got to see her again,”
he said.
“Oh,” Harry said. So, Draco didn’t think that.
Draco snorted in disgust. “I don’t believe them to be baby-killers, but I don’t doubt for a
second that they would do everything in their power to take her away from me,” he said.
Harry rubbed his hands down his face, trying to wipe away his weariness and frustration. “I
can’t do this alone, Malfoy,” he said tiredly. “You’re expecting too much from me.”
“Potter, if I take her back, the Dark Lord will find out and likely kill her,” Draco said, his
voice pleading. “I can’t take her back, but I can’t lose her, either.”
Harry’s shoulders slumped further as he dropped his head into his hands. They were in the
middle of a bloody war. Strange and crazy things were going to happen.
Coming to a decision, he straightened. “You never answered me. Do you know how to bind a
house-elf? I don’t think I can risk not having her bound if she’s willing. There’s too many
secrets that need to be kept.”
Draco nodded slowly.
“I don’t think you want to be recognized here, so I suggest you hide in that cupboard for
now,” Harry said, pointing to the cupboard on the other side of his wardrobe.
Draco grimaced, but did as Harry suggested, stuffing himself into the cupboard along with all
of Dudley’s old things still stored in there.
“Kreacher!”
With a loud crack, Kreacher appeared.
“Master called me?” he questioned, doing his typical low bow as he gave Harry a nasty look.
“Yeah, I need you to get Dobby for me,” Harry said evenly. It was hard not to curse the
creature, but he was trying to heed Dumbledore’s words about being nicer to it.
“The one who followed the beautiful Malfoy boy also,” Kreacher mumbled. “I would rather
call the Malfoy boy master.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Harry interrupted, very conscious of Draco just a few feet away in his
cupboard. “I don’t feel like listening to you praise the merits of Malfoy again.” He took a
deep breath. “Just get Dobby for me, please, and then you can go back to your duties at
Hogwarts.”
“Kreacher must obey Master,” he muttered before he disappeared again. Seconds later,
Dobby appeared in his place.
“Harry Potter is calling for Dobby?” Dobby asked, his eyes filling with joyous tears.
“Yeah, Dobby, just control yourself for me, all right?” Harry begged. “There’s no need to get
over-excited.”
“Harry Potter is asking for me,” Dobby sighed in pleasure.
Harry ran a hand through his hair in agitation. It seemed to him that house-elves really were
an awful lot of trouble. He must be mad to even be considering this. “Dobby, how is Winky
doing?” he asked carefully.
Dobby’s expression fell. “Winky is not well, Harry Potter. Winky is still wishing for a
family.”
That was actually what Harry was hoping, but he still felt a little nauseated over what he was
about to ask, and he wasn’t sure how Dobby would take this. “Do you think Winky would
appreciate being bound to me?” he asked warily.
Dobby broke out into hysterical sobs. “Oh, Harry Potter knows so well,” he cried. “He would
even help Winky. Harry Potter is a great wizard.”
“Dobby!” Harry said sharply. Dobby quieted some, but he continued to sniffle and gaze at
Harry adoringly.
Harry took a deep breath. “Dobby, I thought you wanted to be free. I’m a little confused as to
why you would be happy about me wanting to bind Winky.”
“Every house-elf is different,” Dobby said earnestly. “Dobby likes being free, but it makes
Winky sad. She would be honoured to have a family again.”
“Would you ask Winky here, please?” Harry asked.
“Oh, Harry Potter is saying please to Dobby!” Dobby cried, eyes filling with tears again.
“Harry Potter is too kind!”
Dobby disappeared and Harry breathed a sigh of relief even as he heard the amused snort
from his cupboard.
He didn’t get a chance to say anything before Dobby appeared again with Winky in tow.
Winky was looking even more bedraggled and sad than the last time Harry had seen her.
“Thanks, Dobby,” Harry said.
“Anything for Harry Potter, sir,” Dobby said happily.
Harry was grateful when Dobby disappeared with a loud crack again. He was thankful for the
Silencing Charms on the room or surely Aunt Petunia would be wondering what he was
doing up here with all the noise.
“Um, Winky? I know you’ve kinda been upset since you lost your last Master,” he began
hesitantly.
She simply stared at him sadly with tears leaking from her huge eyes.
Harry sighed. “I know you kind of think it was my fault.” He paused, trying to decide if he
really wanted to do this or not. “But I was wondering if you would be willing to bind yourself
to me,” he said in a rush.
Her eyes grew impossibly wider. “Harry Potter would grant Winky a family again?” she
asked.
“Er, well, sort of,” Harry stumbled over the words. “Um, actually it’s just me,” he admitted
awkwardly. “But I always need help,” he added hurriedly, and could’ve swore he heard
another amused snort from the cupboard.
She studied him warily but with a touch of hope shining in her eyes and her ears perked up in
interest. “Winky likes to help,” she said quietly. “And Dobby thinks very highly of Harry
Potter, sir.”
“Do you, um, know how to take care of babies?” Harry asked.
“Winky loves babies,” she answered with the most animation Harry had ever seen in her.
“Harry Potter knows Winky took great care of her last Master.”
“Yeah, too good,” Harry muttered.
Winky’s face drooped again. “Master was bad, but Winky did what she could,” she said,
sadly yet proudly.
Harry offered her a sad smile. “I don’t doubt your loyalty, Winky,” he said.
She smiled at him tentatively, and Harry was thankful she didn’t have the over-exuberance of
Dobby.
“I don’t know for how long, but for now I have a baby in my care,” Harry explained. “I could
use your help. Someone who I could trust implicitly.”
“And Harry Potter is offering Winky a binding in return?” she asked, tears shimmering as
they fell down her cheeks. She sniffled her large tomato-like nose. “Permanently? Even when
Harry Potter doesn’t need Winky to watch the baby anymore?”
Harry took a deep breath. He didn’t claim to understand it, but he knew this was important to
Winky. He also knew Hermione was absolutely going to kill him when she found out. “Yes,”
he said.
Winky actually squealed with joy, startling Harry. He was thankful Draco had thought to put
a Silencing Charm around the bed before all this had started or surely Victoria would’ve
woken again long before now.
“Winky is so very happy!” she squeaked excitedly. Her excitement was still a far cry from
Dobby’s, though.
“Er, we’re going to be here for now, but I do have a house that, um, kind of needs a lot of
work,” he said.
“Winky will take care of it all!” she said.

“Well, then, if you’re sure?” Harry asked, feeling incredibly awkward. This was way out of
his realm of experience.
“Yes, Winky is very sure,” she stated primly.
“Malfoy,” Harry called.
Draco stepped out of the cupboard, staring at the house-elf curiously. Winky, was staring
back at him fearfully.
Harry sighed. “It’s all right, Winky. I don’t know how to do the binding, and he’s going to
help with it.”
She turned her wide, fearful eyes towards Harry, but didn’t respond.
Draco rolled his eyes. “You sure know how to pick them, don’t you, Potter?”
“Shut it, Malfoy,” Harry said, but without heat. “Let’s just get this done.”
“It’s really quite simple,” Draco drawled. “You initiate the bonding and then the house-elf
will use their magic to do the rest. Remember, most of them want this.”
Harry nodded reluctantly. This was one more thing he was having trouble believing he was
doing. Draco walked Harry through the incantations and Winky took over and performed the
rest of the binding. A few minutes later and a flash of light, it was done.
“You’ve got yourself another house-elf, Potter,” Draco drawled pleasantly. “You’re moving
up in the world.”
“Shut it, Malfoy,” Harry said irritably. He was really hoping that he didn’t come to regret this.
“Winky, this is Victoria,” Harry said, finally bringing the house-elf’s attention to the baby
sleeping on the bed. “She’s your main, er, duty at the moment. When you’re not busy with
her, I reckon you can help at Hogwarts for now. There’s really nothing else here for you to
do. Things will be different later when we sort out the house.”
Winky nodded happily, her ears perked up and flopping. Harry had no doubts that when she
showed up again, her appearance would be cleaned up and neat.
“Um, don’t tell anyone that you’re bound to me or that I’ve got a baby here,” Harry said. “It
has to remain secret for now. If anyone asks, you can just tell them you’re still working at
Hogwarts.”
Harry looked at Draco. “And especially don’t mention to anyone that you’ve seen Malfoy
with me, or that you’ve seen him at all,” he added.
“Yes, Master,” she said agreeably.
Harry winced. Somehow it sounded different when Kreacher called him master, because he
knew Kreacher didn’t really believe it. “I don’t suppose I could get you to call me Harry
instead of Master?”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, no! That is impossible! But Winky could call you Master Harry,” she
suggested.
“That’ll do,” he sighed. He was fairly certain that was the best he was going to get, and he
knew how useless it was trying to argue with a house-elf. And strangely, he knew this was
making Winky happy, so he let it be.
“I reckon you can go back to Hogwarts for the moment,” Harry said. “I’ll call you when
Victoria wakes up or something.”
“Winky will be waiting and ready, Master Harry,” she said before she disappeared.
“Whose house-elf was she?” Draco asked, dropping into the desk chair.
“I can’t tell you,” Harry sighed wearily.
Draco didn’t seem to take offence. “You do have a habit of picking up strays, don’t you?” he
said.
“I’ve somehow picked up you,” Harry agreed.
Draco sat up straight and glared at Harry. “I didn’t mean me,” he said indignantly.
Harry gave a careless shrug. “Fits, though.”
“I am not one of your strays, Potter,” Draco sneered.
“Fine, Malfoy, whatever you say,” Harry said wearily. “My mistake thinking you’d shown up
on my doorstep needing help.”
Draco continued to glare indignantly, but Harry ignored him. He didn’t feel like arguing.
Draco also seemed to realize that Harry had a point, whether he liked it or not.
“Now what?” Draco asked finally, breaking the silence they’d lapsed into.
“I don’t know,” Harry said slowly. “I’ve got us some help with Victoria, at least. Maybe if I
can get some sleep, I’ll be able to think again.”
*****
The next couple of days went much smoother for Harry. Not perfect, but better. He was still
tired, but he wasn’t on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion any longer. There were still
moments where he wondered if he was on the verge of a mental breakdown, though.
He questioned his sanity regularly.
He was currently wondering if he was really stupid enough to ask Draco for help with
learning Occlumency. It was crazy to ask Draco for help. He remembered all the times Snape
had broken into his memories and there were plenty of memories that he didn’t wish to share
with Draco. He snorted softly to himself. Then again, he didn’t want to share them with
Snape, either, and he appeared to be the only other person Harry could go to for help with this
particular problem.
The book was helping dramatically. Harry found himself cursing Snape anew for how
difficult he’d made it in the past. Harry had been brutally shoved off the deep end and
expected to swim. Instead, Harry had sunk to the bottom like a rock. He was hesitant to think
about it, but he was fairly certain he was simply more prepared for Occlumency now. He
hadn’t even believed it necessary before and hadn’t truly put much effort into it.
The book, along with all its helpful notes, actually made the process understandable. Not
necessarily easier, but it made sense now. Harry understood now that he needed to
compartmentalize his brain. Shove pieces of his memories, thoughts and emotions into
different slots and then close them off, erecting shields to ward off any intrusions. Easier said
than done, but the process made sense now. It was a lot simpler when Harry related it to all
the defence spells that he knew. Shields were shields. There were plenty of different types,
but they were still shields.
Judging from what the book said, it was easier the more it was practiced, until it became an
almost unconscious defence. Harry felt like he was better able to understand how Draco and
Snape could be so unfeeling and cold much of the time. Frowning, he realized that Draco
hadn’t really been that way lately, and realized that the boy had been letting down his
defences around Harry. Victoria had a way of helping Draco to relax those shields a little. He
was fairly certain Draco had them fully in place the rest of the time.
A lot of the exercises in the book centred around types of meditation. There were plenty of
helpful tips and suggestions written in the margins and Harry was studying them closely and
trying to put them into practice. With Winky now helping with Victoria, Harry spent every
spare minute he had, for three days straight, studying the material. He snorted in amusement.
Hermione would be proud of him for that, at least.
The problem was, he needed practical help now. And Draco was the only one around who
could possibly give the help he needed. Taking a deep breath, sucking in all the courage he
could, he turned towards Draco.
“Do you know Occlumency?” he tumbled the words out as he exhaled. Technically he
already knew the answer, but it probably wasn’t wise to let on that he knew. It didn’t make
him any more comfortable knowing that Bellatrix had taught Draco, but it was probably a
point in Snape’s favour, as Snape hadn’t been happy with Draco hiding information from
him.
“Of course I do,” Draco sneered in disdain. “How do you think I’ve managed to survive so
far?”
Harry snorted. “I’m sure Snape’s asking much the same question, wondering how I’ve
managed to survive all these years without knowing it.”
Draco nodded in agreement. “I have to agree with that,” he drawled.

Harry didn’t bother responding to the comment, instead asking the next important question.
“Can you help me learn it?”
Draco sat up and studied Harry calculatingly. “You’d trust me to help you?” he asked, eyes
narrowed.
“Not really,” Harry admitted. “But I prefer you over my other options.”
Draco chuckled darkly. “It’s not fun when the Dark Lord starts probing at your mind,” he
said.
“At least you don’t have him probing at your mind when you’re not near him,” Harry
retorted.
Draco’s eyes widened fractionally and an eyebrow shot up. “That’s true?” he questioned.
“The Dark Lord really can reach your mind over distance?”
“Yes,” Harry said simply, not elaborating at all.
Draco frowned and turned thoughtful. “It’s not really that hard to learn,” he said slowly. “It’s
just not a skill that most people have a use for. It does, however, require a lot of concentration
in the beginning until you become used to it,” he added.
“I’ve tried learning it before,” Harry admitted quietly. “I was lousy at it, though.” It appeared
that Snape hadn’t actually told Draco about Harry’s previous lessons, which was probably
another point in Snape’s favour. But Harry felt the man lost points because he hadn’t taught
Harry properly before. Harry was still trying to sort through all the information he knew, but
he hadn’t come up with any kind of logical explanation as to why Snape hadn’t taught Harry
Occlumency if he was on the right side.
“You have to learn to concentrate and be able to clear your mind,” Draco said.
Harry groaned, hating that phrase. “Lovely,” he said sarcastically.
“Oh, it’s not so bad, Potter,” Draco drawled in amusement. “I’m sure you can learn
Occlumency. It’s much easier than learning Legilimency.”
“And you know Legilimency?” Harry questioned.
“Of course,” Draco smirked.
Harry rolled his eyes, positive Draco was enjoying having a skill that Harry didn’t. “You have
to help teach me exactly how to clear my mind before you go casting Legilimens on me,”
Harry said firmly.
Draco sobered and nodded in agreement. Harry was surprised once again, but grateful Draco
seemed to respect the fact that Harry had secrets that needed to be kept. This . . . whatever it
was between them, was a whole lot different than the relationship between Harry and his
friends. He was used to people demanding that he spill his secrets, even when he didn’t have
any to spill.
So, Draco started teaching him meditation techniques, and Harry integrated Draco’s
suggestions with what he had learned from the book of the Half-Blood Prince. He still found
it easier to think of them as two separate people. For the next two days, Harry’s main focus
was meditation, learning to clear his mind. He worked on specifics when Draco was around
and practiced when he wasn’t. The only other thing he allowed time for was Victoria.
The only real problem of the week was on Friday morning when Draco and Vernon almost
crossed paths. Aunt Petunia was not at all happy about it and she seemed to reach her limit of
accommodation.
“Vernon would not be pleased to see you,” Aunt Petunia hissed, glaring at Draco.
“You can’t bring him back here anymore,” she said, turning her glare on Harry. “I don’t want
you disrupting this house.”
“Aunt Petunia, I need him here,” Harry said wearily. “I need his help, and this is the only
place we can meet safely at the moment.”
“You think you will be safe when your uncle finds out?” she asked. “If he finds out about any
of this, you will be gone immediately.”
Harry sighed heavily. “I just need a little more time. I’m working on a place, but . . . well, I
can’t get Victoria or Malfoy in there yet.”
“Why not?” Petunia demanded.
“Wards?” Draco asked.
Harry nodded to Draco. The wards were part of it. He just had a small problem named Snape
as well. He didn’t even know where the man was at the moment, and the message had been
pretty clear—he had to learn Occlumency before Snape would likely even speak to him.
“There’s complications,” Harry tried to explain to his aunt. “Before he died, the Headmaster
created a safe place for me.” And Snape, he added silently. “I just can’t bring anyone else into
this safe place yet. It’s kind of like I have to get the right codes first, but I can’t just outright
ask for them at the moment because I don’t really want anyone knowing about Victoria or
Malfoy. So, it’s just taking me a little longer.”
Petunia glanced nervously at Draco, before addressing Harry. “He’s dangerous, isn’t he?”
Harry looked at Draco, thankful the blond was keeping a calm, expressionless face. “Um,
kind of,” he admitted to his aunt. Thinking about it, Harry decided that just might be the way
to play this.
“Malfoy,” he said suddenly. “Show her your mark.”
“Potter,” Draco hissed.
“Just show her your mark,” Harry demanded.

Draco stared at him for several seconds before slowly unbuttoning the cuff of his sleeve and
pushing it up to reveal the Dark Mark on his forearm. Harry looked at it for a second and
shrugged. It was still an ugly thing.
Draco raised an incredulous eyebrow at Harry’s calm reaction. Harry shrugged again.
Petunia, however, had paled dramatically and taken a step backwards by the time Harry
turned to her again.
“That’s . . . that’s . . .,” she couldn’t seem to get the words out, but Harry knew what she
wanted to say.
“Yes, that’s the symbol that floats above the area where an attack occurs,” Harry said calmly.
“That’s the Dark Mark that Voldemort uses to summon his followers.”
“But that means he is . . .,” Petunia said, trailing off as she stared in horror at Draco.
“Yes, he’s a Death Eater,” Harry said. “He’s extremely dangerous and not someone that you,
Uncle Vernon, or Dudley want to make angry. He’s here because he needs my help. In return,
he’s helping me.”
“Victoria,” she whispered.
Harry nodded and waited a moment as she tried to process what Harry had been saying so far.
Petunia darted fearful looks between the two of them, before settling on Harry.
“Who are you, Harry?” she asked.
Good question, Harry thought ruefully.
“I’m simply someone who is trying to protect both of the worlds that I live in,” he said
slowly, thoughtfully. “I’m trying to protect everyone who is important to me. To do that, I’m
using every possible resource I have.”
He paused as he looked at his aunt. “That includes you. There are many who would consider
you a worthless Muggle. To me, you have an important role. I need you at the moment. I had
Malfoy show you his mark, because I need you to know just how real this actually is.”
Harry glanced at Draco, who looked up from staring at the mark on his arm to meet Harry’s
gaze. “Malfoy had to figure out the hard way just how real this war is,” he said quietly.
He turned back to his aunt. “I know you don’t like me. Uncle Vernon and Dudley hate me
even more. I’m not sure I really care anymore that I’ve never been a part of your family. But
if you want to keep the little world you live in, then I need your help.”
“What exactly do you need from me?” Petunia whispered.
“I just need you to continue what you’ve been doing. I appreciate what help you’ve given me
with Victoria. I need you to continue to ignore Malfoy’s visits, just as you ignore me being
here most of the time,” Harry said. “I need you to continue to keep Uncle Vernon and Dudley
off my back, especially about Victoria.”
“Your uncle is unaware that the child is still here,” Petunia admitted, confirming Harry’s
suspicions.
“I am doing my best to stay out of the way,” Harry said, unable to keep the bitterness out of
his tone. “I’ve Silenced my room so he can’t hear anything and I’ve even stopped coming
down for meals. That should be making both Uncle Vernon and Dudley happy.”
“Have you been eating?” she asked hesitantly, her tone indicating that she had actually been
worried about him, at least a little.
“Yeah, I’ve been eating,” he muttered, thinking about all the times in the past when she
hadn’t been especially worried if he ate or not. With Winky bringing him meals from
Hogwarts, he was actually eating quite well now.
Petunia winced as if she could hear Harry’s thoughts and Harry looked away, only to meet
Draco’s gaze. Draco arched a brow questioningly, but Harry simply shook his head. He didn’t
want to talk about it, especially not with Draco and especially not in front of his aunt.
Harry exhaled heavily. “Look, I know you’ve only brought it up now because Uncle Vernon
almost caught Malfoy coming here, but I don’t intend to stay here past my birthday.” He
narrowed his eyes at his aunt. “I assume you do remember when that actually is,” he said, the
bitterness creeping back into his tone.
Petunia flinched, but answered. “July thirty-first,” she said.
“It’s not that far away—only a month. Maybe over the next few weeks it would be good for
you to plan outings with your family over the weekends,” Harry snapped.
He took a deep breath. Yelling at his aunt wasn’t going to get him what he wanted from her.
“Uncle Vernon has no idea that Malfoy has been coming here, and I’d like to keep it that way
as much as you do. Do this for me and I’ll try to stay out of your way as much as possible,”
he said.
Petunia’s gaze flicked between Harry and Draco several times before she finally nodded. “I’ll
do what I can,” she said stiffly.
“Thank you,” Harry said, turning on his heel and marching back upstairs to his room, Draco
following.
Victoria was still in her cot, happily playing with some of the toys Draco had been bringing
for her. She pulled herself up when she saw them enter the room, however, and Draco moved
to retrieve her from the cot and sit down on the floor with her. Harry flopped onto his back on
the bed, frustrated and angry.
“Would you care to explain any of that?” Draco asked.
“No,” Harry said shortly, resentful that Draco had heard everything.
Draco had been meeting with him at the Dursleys every morning for the last two weeks, not
counting the weekend. With the common interest of Victoria’s welfare, they were behaving
mostly civil around each other. It didn’t mean that they liked each other or that they talked
about anything other than the little girl and slightly less volatile war related topics. They’d
somehow reached an unspoken agreement that they didn’t pry into each other’s lives at all,
knowing that they needed to keep some kind of peace between them.
Harry knew their agreement had somehow just shifted a little, though. Draco had sounded
almost concerned regarding what he’d heard downstairs.
“I’m still living at Malfoy Manor,” Draco said abruptly.
“Good for you,” Harry said sarcastically, despite the fact that he was actually interested in
knowing that information.
“Because of the Dark Lord and everything that happened, my mum had wards added so that
the Ministry can’t reach the property,” Draco said, ignoring Harry’s attitude.
Harry turned on his side and propped himself up on his elbow, staring at Draco curiously and
wondering why the other boy was suddenly volunteering the information.
Draco’s eyes were on Victoria rather than Harry. Winky had quietly popped out and back in,
handing Draco a bottle. Draco was simply holding his daughter as she ate, as she’d become
accustomed to drinking a morning bottle during the time he was usually there.
“She added the wards to help protect us,” Draco continued. “It only protects us from the
Ministry, though. I spend most of my time in my room because I never know who will be at
our house.”
Harry slowly realized that Draco was offering him information for information. He’d learned
a little about Harry and was now telling Harry a little about his home life, such as it was.
“The Dark Lord rather considers the Manor as a safe place for his followers to stay or for him
to meet up with them,” Draco said. “He doesn’t even have to summon everyone most of the
time because he can find enough followers at our house for whatever task he currently wants
done.”
Harry wanted to ask questions, but didn’t dare interrupt. It was irritating having Draco learn
about his crappy home life, but Draco’s home life, the information he was offering, actually
involved important information for the war. He had no idea how he could actually utilize the
information at the moment, but it was still good to know.
“It’s safer to stay in my room and out of sight,” Draco said quietly, glancing at Harry briefly.
“He doesn’t fully trust my abilities. I wasn’t killed because I . . .,” he trailed off, swallowing
heavily before he went on. “Because I helped make it possible for my assigned task to be
completed.”
Harry’s jaw tightened and he squeezed his eyes shut. It helped knowing that Draco seemed
genuinely remorseful, but it was definitely still a very painful topic for both of them.
Draco was silent for long moments before speaking again. “After punishing me for
everything that happened at Hogwarts, the Dark Lord has pretty much left me alone for a
little while,” he said, his voice barely audible. “I had to try to prove myself and he seemed
pleased that I volunteered to go on the attack at Victoria’s family’s house, but he told me that
he didn’t expect me to get so involved until the next major attack.”
He took a deep breath. “He needs experienced followers on these small attacks so that they
can get in and out without being caught,” he explained. “I rarely even learn anything about
the smaller raids until after they’ve happened. The Dark Lord is extremely wary of letting his
followers know any information beforehand.”
Harry had been listening intently, but opened his eyes again when he heard movement.
Victoria had fallen asleep and Draco was lying her down in her cot for a short morning nap.
This would normally mean they would begin working on Harry’s Occlumency, but the
tension was extremely thick in the room.
Draco glanced around the room, looking a little lost after he’d laid Victoria down to sleep.
Harry cleared his throat. “Well, my room is surely a lot smaller than yours, but at least you’re
the only Death Eater around,” he said. “And my aunt thinks you’re quite dangerous,” he
added teasingly, hoping to lighten the mood.
Draco visibly relaxed a little. “Your aunt seems to think you’re dangerous,” he drawled
sardonically.
Harry shrugged, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “She always has,” he admitted.
Draco somehow managed to sprawl elegantly on the desk chair. “It’s a very sad day when
you’re considered dangerous,” he said mockingly, smirking in obvious amusement.
“I don’t know about that,” Harry said thoughtfully. “Over the years, a lot of people have
thought I was dangerous. For a while people thought I was the heir of Slytherin which made
people afraid of me. Then there were all those articles you helped provide information for.
Those certainly didn’t help my reputation at all and made people consider me as unbalanced
and dangerous.”
“True,” Draco conceded, still smirking and unapologetic. “But anyone with any brains at all
knew that you weren’t the heir of Slytherin. I certainly didn’t believe it.”
Harry smirked wickedly. “I know,” he said smugly. “By the way, I was using Polyjuice long
before you.”
Draco’s eyes widened. “When?” he demanded.
Somehow they managed to have an almost friendly discussion about their exploits with
Polyjuice, as neither of them wanted to go back to the tension from earlier—and their
relationship shifted a little more.
*****
Chapter Five
Chapter Notes

Chapter Five
“I think you’re ready,” Draco said on Sunday.
Harry swallowed heavily. “I hope so,” he muttered. He was incredibly nervous, despite
knowing that he was far ahead of where he’d ever been in the past in regards to learning
Occlumency. Snape had completely skipped the step Harry had just been working on almost
non-stop for five days.
“Are you ready for this?” Draco asked, getting his wand out and contradicting his last
statement.
Harry eyed Draco’s wand apprehensively. “No,” he said, but nodded his head anyway.
“Clear your mind,” Draco demanded.
Harry closed his eyes, appreciating the fact that he was actually given a chance to clear his
mind first. Picturing the image of a shimmering defensive shield, he mentally placed it at the
forefront of his mind, imagining all of his memories, thoughts and emotions being firmly
tucked behind the shield. His mind was left clear and calm in front of that shimmering shield,
no matter how much things were twisting behind it. Slowly he opened his eyes and nodded,
trying to keep the shimmering shield in place.
“Legilimens,” Draco said firmly.
Harry stared hard and concentrated on his shield, but after just a couple seconds he could feel
it fall and Draco slipped into his mind.
Malfoy pushing him up against the wall outside the Potions classroom . . . In Snape’s office
with the man towering over him and yelling . . . Feeling of rage when meeting Dumbledore’s
eyes briefly before disappearing with the Portkey . . . the door at the end of the hallway . . .
the veil inside the maze of rooms . . . Sirius falling . . .
Harry shoved at the presence in his mind, and returned to reality, gasping for breath. His head
was already throbbing unmercifully. Draco watched him with cool detachment, not helping,
not hindering.
After a couple of minutes, Harry concentrated on erecting his shield again, clearing his mind.
He looked at Draco and gave a slight nod. He was able to keep it in place for a few seconds
before it fell, allowing Draco access again.
Flashes of the two books of the Half-Blood Prince . . . Working in the Potions classroom . . .
Drinking with Slughorn and Hagrid in Hagrid’s hut . . .
Harry shoved hard, and landed on his hands and knees as if he’d been pushing his whole
body forward, not just trying to push Draco out of his mind. Again he was left gasping for
breath and his head was pounding, but now he also felt physically ill. He swallowed heavily,
tasting the bile that was threatening to rise.
He heard Draco sit down on the edge of the bed and knew that they were done for the
moment.
“Is there a pattern to the images?” Draco asked evenly.
“Yes,” Harry choked out, slowly sitting back on his heels.
Draco gazed at him steadily and Harry didn’t have a clue what was going on behind that calm
mask.
“Why do I always feel so sick afterwards?” Harry moaned.
“Because it’s invasive,” Draco answered. “Mind and body are rejecting the presence that
doesn’t belong there.”
“Oh,” Harry said. “Makes sense, I suppose.”
“It also has a lot to do with the fact that you are consciously trying to reject the presence,”
Draco went on in lecture mode.
Harry gave him an odd look. He recognized lecture mode because of Hermione, but he
wasn’t used to hearing it from Draco. At least, not until the last few days.
“If you weren’t trying to actually fight it, your body wouldn’t be protesting so vehemently,”
Draco added.
“Lovely,” Harry said sarcastically. “So the sicker I am, the more successful I was at fighting
it?”
“Something like that,” Draco smirked. “You actually aren’t doing half bad. Plenty of room
for improvement, though.” He hesitated. “Are you ready to go again? It’ll only get easier and
better with practice.”
Determined to finally learn Occlumency, Harry pushed aside his feelings of being ill and
closed his eyes, beginning to erect his shield again.
*****
Over the course of another week, Harry was actually in much better shape than he’d been in
for a long while. With the meditation techniques, he was finding it easier to get to sleep and
get away from his constantly revolving thoughts. He still had nightmares, but the insomnia
had eased dramatically, so overall he was sleeping more.
He was improving. He could hold the shield in place for longer and longer periods of time.
Then Draco started pushing harder, applying more force to try to break through. Harry began
working on building up the strength of his shield as well as its duration. He was also learning
to erect it faster. It wasn’t automatic yet, but he was beginning to believe that he would reach
that point. He practised constantly, with the single-minded attention he usually only applied
to things like Quidditch.
Draco commented very little on the flashes of images he saw in Harry’s mind and Harry was
continually grateful that Draco didn’t question him. He wasn’t sure what exactly was holding
Draco in restraint, considering that normally he would’ve been taunting Harry with all the
little pieces of information he’d learned.
They were getting along far better than they ever had in the past, though, Harry was forced to
admit. He didn’t completely trust Draco, but he knew that for whatever reason, he wasn’t
concerned about the other boy revealing anything he might’ve learned.
Friendly banter was mixed in with their arguments more than ever. Time was spent with
Victoria and with Harry’s Occlumency lessons, but they also spent time just talking. Harry
had to wonder about his sanity, but he found himself beginning to look forward to Draco’s
visits.
Mid-week, Harry finally decided to broach a topic he’d been wondering about. “How are you
getting out of the house every day to come here?” he asked.
Draco tensed. “My mum thinks I’m off visiting my friends. She doesn’t like it, but she allows
it because it at least gets me out of my room for awhile,” he said.
“Malfoy, who are your friends?” Harry asked warily.

Draco was quiet for a long time, and Harry had about given up on the idea that he would
answer. “Crabbe and Goyle were lackeys,” he said abruptly. “Pansy was about image.
Millicent was an attachment to Pansy. I used them. They weren’t friends.”
“What about Zabini?” Harry asked hesitantly, knowing Draco was angry, but not quite sure
who or what Draco was angry about.
Draco’s eyes closed for a few moments. “Blaise used to be my friend,” he said, his voice
tight.
“He’s not now?” Harry asked.
“Potter, I don’t want to talk about this,” Draco snapped.
“Why isn’t he your friend any more?” Harry persisted. “Is it because of you being here now?
Or did something happen before?”
“Blaise isn’t politically-inclined,” Draco said angrily. “I had a task to complete, extremely
politically-oriented. I got rid of him.”
Harry blinked, trying to understand. “You got rid of him,” he said flatly.
“I pushed him away, Potter,” Draco said impatiently. “He was my friend and I didn’t want
him getting involved and I didn’t want him interfering.”
“Would he have interfered?” Harry asked.
Draco seemed to deflate a little. “I don’t know,” he admitted.
“You miss him,” Harry stated.
Draco looked away, not answering.
Harry spent far more time than he probably should have over the next couple days thinking
about that conversation. He knew he needed to be getting back to the Horcrux issue,
especially now that he was finally becoming much more proficient in Occlumency.
He still found himself wondering about Draco and Blaise, though. He found it a little
disturbing when he wondered if Draco wanted to consider Blaise as more than a friend, and
he tried hard not to think about that. Instead, he focused on the fact that Draco didn’t seem to
have any friends.
He hadn’t missed the fact that Draco seemed happier when he arrived at the Dursleys than we
he left. He didn’t think it was all because of Victoria, either. Harry was simply the only
company Draco had besides his mother most of the time and that bothered Harry’s Gryffindor
sensibilities.
Of course, he ignored the fact that other than Victoria and Winky, a baby and a house-elf,
Draco was pretty much his only company. He knew he had friends waiting for him who
would welcome him with open arms. Draco appeared to be awfully alone.
So, when Harry found himself writing to his friends Friday afternoon, in a response to
another one of Hermione’s letters, he ended up painstakingly writing a letter to Blaise Zabini
as well.
He hesitated before sending it, wondering if he was being an idiot. Technically he didn’t even
know where Draco’s loyalties lay. It didn’t exactly make sense to be trying to sort out another
Slytherin’s loyalties. For what purpose? Because he felt sorry for Draco? Because talking to
Blaise might give him more information about Draco?
Telling himself it wouldn’t hurt to try to drum up some more information and try to feel out
another possible ally, Harry went ahead and sent the letter.
*****
“Where’s Snape?” Harry asked.
Draco gave him a sharp look. “Why?”
“Because I want to know,” Harry retorted.
“Potter, I can’t tell you that,” Draco snapped. “And I think you know that and that’s why you
haven’t asked me until now.”
“You’re living with him,” Harry said. “Or he’s living with you,” he amended.
Draco’s eyes narrowed. “He’s the one helping to keep me and my mother alive.”
Harry nodded. He’d pretty much come to that conclusion, even though he didn’t understand it
all. “Why is Snape so interested in protecting you and your mother?”
Draco dropped his gaze to the baby he was holding, and appeared to be debating his answer.
“He’s my godfather,” he finally admitted.
Harry blinked in surprise. He hadn’t been expecting that, but now he realized it made a lot of
sense. Snape was doing what he could to protect his own family, even if said family were on
the wrong side of the war.
Groaning, Harry realized that he and Snape were likely both on the Light side while trying to
protect a family on the Dark side—the same family. Then he thought of something else and
looked at Draco sharply.
“I know you haven’t switched sides because you’re trying to protect your family,” he said,
watching Draco closely. “Does this mean you won’t switch sides because of Snape—because
he’s actually a part of your family?”
Draco sighed heavily, looking like he really didn’t want to answer, but he did anyway. “I
don’t have any hope that he’ll ever switch sides,” he said flatly. “I think my mother may be
willing to go into hiding, but there are just so many things to take into consideration.”
Harry was reminded of the fact that Draco needed options and Harry had yet to actually
present him with a viable option. They’d been existing in limbo while Harry had learned
Occlumency, but now it was time for things to change.
Draco didn’t look at all comfortable with the way the conversation was going and Harry let it
drop. With renewed determination, though, Harry silently vowed that he would somehow
come up with a viable option for Draco—he would figure out a safe place for Draco and his
family to get away from Voldemort.
It would be up to Draco then to make the choice.
*****
When Draco arrived the next morning, Harry was ready to go.
“How long can you stay today?” Harry asked.
“Until lunchtime, the same as I’ve been doing all week,” Draco said pointedly. “Why?”
“Because I’ve got things to do this morning, and I’m going to need Winky,” Harry answered.
“You’ll be on your own here with Victoria most of the morning. It’s Sunday, so even my
relatives are out of town. It’ll be just you two here. Can you handle that?”
Draco looked a little nervous, and maybe even a little disappointed. “Where are you going?”
he asked.
Harry shook his head. “I can’t tell you,” he said. “I just need to start getting things done. I’ve
been here for a little over a month already, but I can’t stay here forever. I’ve got leads that I
have to start following up on.”
Draco was staring at Victoria, looking a little lost and nervous still. This would be the first
time he’d ever truly be by himself with his daughter. Harry hastened to reassure him by
instructing Winky to respond if Draco called at all that morning for help.
Harry left for Grimmauld Place, feeling nervous himself. He wasn’t worried about Draco, but
he was worried about what he’d find at the old house.
Harry slipped into the dreary house, hating the fact that this was where he planned on living.
He planned on summoning Winky and seeing what she could do to help make the place at
least halfway liveable for him and Victoria—and hopefully Draco. But first he wanted to
check if there were any more odd messages left for him in the kitchen. The room always had
been the main meeting place in the house.
“Expelliarmus!”
As soon as he pushed open the door to the kitchen, his wand went flying from his pocket.
Eyes darting about wildly, Harry spotted Snape glaring at him with his wand aimed directly
at Harry’s chest.
“Bloody hell!” Harry yelled. “What was that for?”

“You are no more cautious than you have ever been, Potter,” Snape said coldly.
“Yeah, well, this place is safe,” Harry muttered, moving towards the table and flopping down
in one of the dusty chairs. He was trying to be casual, but he still watched Snape warily. He
was very conscious of the fact that if he was wrong about Snape’s loyalties, then he was
already in a world of trouble.
Snape’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “And what makes you believe this place is safe?”
“Well, from what I can determine, only you and I even have access to this house at the
moment,” Harry answered.
Snape snorted disparagingly. “You believe you are safe with me?” he asked, not denying that
they were the only two able to cross the wards on the residence.
Harry took a deep breath but then lifted his head to meet Snape’s gaze steadily. “I think so,”
he said, proud of keeping his tone calm and even.
He was extremely satisfied with his efforts when a flash of surprise crossed Snape’s features.
Of course, Snape was immediately back to sneering at him, but Harry expected that.
“You didn’t believe yourself so safe with me the last time we met,” Snape said.
“Of course not! You’d just killed Dumbledore!” Harry shouted, his anger getting the best of
him. “What was I supposed to believe?”
“And what has so drastically changed your opinion?” Snape sneered, eyes narrowed
suspiciously.
Harry snapped his mouth shut on the retort that sprung to his lips. He turned away from
Snape. That was a damned good question. He was still feeling conflicted regarding that
situation, but here he was, seemingly willing to put his trust in Snape.
Harry believed what Draco had told him regarding Snape. Draco hadn’t been trying to
convince him that Snape was a good guy. In fact, just the opposite. The information from
Draco, combined with what Harry knew, led to Snape still being a spy for the Light side. Not
that he could tell Snape any of that, though.
He heaved a shuddering breath. “Dumbledore said you could be trusted,” Harry said.
“As you’ve already stated, I killed him, Potter,” Snape said stiffly. “Clearly Dumbledore
placed his trust where he shouldn’t have.”
Harry stared at the man blankly, trying to process what he’d just heard. “He would’ve died
anyway,” he said slowly. “Dumbledore was helping to save all of us when he pleaded with
you to kill him. He certainly wasn’t pleading with you to spare his life.”
He shook his head absently, continuing to voice his thoughts and his reasoning out loud. “He
trusted you to protect us. I think he might have actually been making a final plea for you to
help me. I think he was helping to protect you and your spy status.”
He met Snape’s gaze. “He was dying anyway, but you would still be able to help in the war if
your cover wasn’t broken—which meant he pleaded with you to kill him under the
circumstances.”
Snape returned Harry’s gaze with a steady expression but his eyes were glittering with some
emotion Harry couldn’t interpret.
Harry looked away again. “I contributed to his death as much as you did,” he stated, his voice
only catching slightly. “I don’t think either of us wanted to do it, but we both did exactly as
he wanted,” he said, the bitterness leaking into his voice, replacing the pain. “The irony is
that you wouldn’t have likely been placed in that position if Dumbledore and I hadn’t been
doing what we did that night.”
“Potter, you do not know the entire story of the events that night,” Snape said harshly.
“Neither do you,” Harry retorted. “And I know enough,” he added. He knew that both of
them were avoiding mention of Draco and his involvement.
“You know nothing,” Snape sneered.
“I know you’re a bastard, no matter which side you’re on,” Harry snapped irritably.
He was startled when Snape chuckled darkly. “Then I stand corrected. You do know one
thing.”
Harry dropped his head into his hands and laughed, a little hysterically, but he laughed. He
was surprised when Snape cast a spell to clean off one of the other chairs before sitting down
across from him.
“You believe we are on the same side,” Snape said contemptuously.
“Yes,” Harry answered warily, aware that it hadn’t actually been a question.
Snape nodded curtly. “Then that will make this a little easier.” His grimace belied how easy
he thought it was. “I need you as a liaison.”
“What?!” Harry exclaimed incredulously.
“A liaison, Potter,” Snape sneered in contempt. “I need you as a means to pass information to
the Order.”
Harry stared at him blankly.
Snape snorted impatiently. “I am unable to connect with the Order myself. You can pass on
necessary information that will help the Order to fight this war.”
Harry understood what Snape was saying, but was having trouble comprehending that Snape
was actually going to pass on the Death Eater plans to him. “You don’t really think the Order
is going to believe me if I try to pass on information, do you?”
“Potter,” Snape said coldly. “You are able to pass off information as visions. There are those
who know that will believe you without question.”
Harry nodded slowly, working through that in his mind. “Who all knows I’ve had visions?”
He was pretty sure Snape would know the answer, when ironically he himself had no idea.
“McGonagall and Lupin primarily,” Snape said curtly. “The other members of the Order are
aware there is some type of connection, but do not understand precisely how you are linked
with the Dark Lord. Dumbledore did not believe they needed to know any more than that.”
“Why don’t you go to either of them yourself?” Harry asked.
“I killed their leader,” Snape said, his voice harsh. “I am believed to be a traitor. I was not
trusted before. None would believe me now.”
“But you thought I’d believe you?” Harry asked incredulously.
Snape eyed him contemplatively. “You appear to,” he said simply.
Harry blinked. He couldn’t really argue with that. “Well, there surely has to be others who
would believe you are still on the right side,” Harry argued a different point. “Why not
McGonagall or Lupin?”
“You are privy to more information,” Snape explained, sounding more like Harry’s professor
at the moment. “I am aware that Dumbledore presented information to you that he presented
to no one else. You may not know as much as I would prefer you to, but I believe you are
aware of what it will actually take to end this war,” he admitted.
Harry stared in astonishment as Snape continued. “The Order does not understand the
internal workings of this war. The crux of the matter is that you are central to ending it.”
Harry flinched at Snape’s choice of wording and the man looked at him sharply. “Surely you
know that you are at the heart of this war,” he sneered.
Harry swallowed heavily. “Yes, I know,” he muttered.
“Do you have any understanding of what you have to do?” Snape asked sharply.
“I know what I have to do, I’ve just got to figure out how to bloody do it,” Harry answered
bitterly.
“I suggest you figure it out soon,” Snape said curtly.
“Of course,” Harry said sarcastically, but thankful Snape wasn’t actually questioning what he
knew. Instead, Snape switched his line of questioning.
“Have you been practising?” he asked.
Harry groaned, knowing Snape was referring to his Occlumency and immediately closed his
eyes and worked to erect his mental shield. “Yes,” he answered. He wasn’t surprised when a
second later he felt Snape’s probing presence.
Keeping his eyes squeezed tightly shut, Harry focused all his energy on keeping his shield in
place. Snape let up after twenty seconds and Harry warily opened his eyes.
“Not acceptable yet,” Snape said, but he was glaring at Harry suspiciously.
“I’m working on it!” Harry exclaimed.
Snape only nodded curtly before abruptly rising to his feet. “You will meet me here at eleven
o’clock on Tuesday morning. Unfortunately, I have other plans tomorrow.”
Harry heaved a sigh, not sure he wanted to know what other types of plans Snape had. “Yes,
sir,” he said bleakly. He had no idea how he was going to work things out with Victoria.
“Sir?” he suddenly burst out.
Snape lifted a brow in question.
“Is it possible to bring other people in here with me?” Harry asked. “Will the wards allow
that?”
“Dumbledore adjusted the wards to allow only you and myself, obviously predicting the need
for a safe meeting place,” Snape said harshly.
“I’ve figured that out,” Harry snapped. “But I need to know how others could be brought in
here.”
“I’m not dealing with your little friends,” Snape sneered contemptuously.
“Don’t worry! I wasn’t planning on subjecting them to have to deal with you,” Harry sneered
back.
Snape’s nostrils flared even as his eyes narrowed dangerously. “Then who are you wanting to
bring here?” he questioned.
Harry looked away, biting his lip. He wasn’t sure how to explain Victoria and he didn’t think
it was a good idea to mention Draco yet.
“Hermione was wanting to check through the library here,” Harry said, not technically
answering the question, but making a truthful statement.
“I’ve already told you, Potter,” Snape said coldly. “You will not be bringing them into this
residence. I had thought you understood the risks for once.”
“I do understand,” Harry snapped. “Fine, I got the message.”
“You will not be able to bring anyone else into this residence,” Snape said, his voice low and
dangerously threatening.
Harry narrowed his eyes. “If I ever chose to bring anyone here, I would make damned sure
that it was someone that we could both trust.”
“Just who do you want to bring here?” Snape asked. “I know there is someone.”
Harry glared at him defiantly. “A baby! An innocent little baby that’s just a victim of this war.
She doesn’t have a clue who I am, let alone who you are. I think she can be trusted,” he said
sarcastically.
Snape blinked once in surprise. “Where did you get a baby, and why isn’t she with someone
who could care for her properly?”
“It doesn’t matter!” Harry shouted angrily. “She’s just a victim and I don’t want anyone
knowing or they’ll take her away from me!”
“You can’t just claim a baby and you are too ignorant to know how to take care of one
properly,” Snape said disparagingly.
“It’s none of your business and I wasn’t asking for your permission!” Harry yelled. “I just
wanted to know how to bring her in here so I could keep her safe!”
“Bloody idiot Gryffindors saving the damsel in distress,” Snape sneered in disgust.
“If that’s the way you want to see it, then yes,” Harry snapped.
Snape leaned over, glaring. “Take her to the proper authorities, Potter.” Then he stood
straight, tossed Harry’s wand onto the table and swept from the room. Seconds later Harry
heard the front door close.
Harry groaned in frustration. He wanted to laugh hysterically at the irony that Snape would
be doing what he could to protect Victoria if he understood just whose child she was.
“Winky,” he said wearily.
She popped into the room almost instantly. He knew she’d been waiting for him to call for
her. “Yes, Master Harry?”
Then she caught sight of the room and shrieked in horror. “Master Harry, this is not fitting for
you or Mistress Victoria.”
“I know,” Harry sighed. He hated doing this, because it seemed awful to place all this work
on anyone, but he would do it anyway. “Winky, I need you to try to make the kitchen and one
of the bedrooms habitable for us. You’ll need to clean someplace for yourself as well.” He
looked around the filthy kitchen. “I reckon the basement here is the best place to start.”
Her head was bobbing furiously. “Yes, Master Harry. Winky will start right away.”
“I’m sorry I’ve had to ask this of you, but we need this,” he said.
“Winky will take care of everything,” she said firmly. “Would Master Harry like Winky to get
food as well?”
Harry frowned. “You can do that?” he asked. He’d never put much thought into it. He knew
house-elves did all the cooking, but had no idea who did the shopping.
Winky was nodding enthusiastically. To Harry’s amazement, she explained to him about the
markets that were designed especially for house-elves. Many house-elves were expected to
do the mundane shopping for a household. When he questioned her about the money, she
described a process that reminded Harry a little of a credit card exchange. He didn’t quite
understand it, but somehow her magical signature was linked with his own, and anytime she
purchased anything, some paperwork would be sent to Gringott’s and the money taken from
his account.
It seemed a little dodgy to Harry, but she politely informed him that all families with house-
elves were used to this type of transaction. Being bound to him, she couldn’t make purchases
for anyone else and she would never purchase anything unnecessary.
“Well, how do we get the goblins to take the money from my Black vault and not my Potter
vault?” Harry asked curiously.
“Master Harry will have to tell the goblins,” Winky said primly.
Harry groaned. “Lovely,” he muttered. It seemed Winky could take care of a lot of the
shopping for necessities for the household, but he had to initially inform the goblins of the
binding. She assured him that it was a quick and easy process, but somehow Harry had to
wonder. Nothing ever seemed to be quick and easy.
Harry took Winky and they snuck into Gringott’s. Or rather, Harry snuck into Gringott’s and
Winky popped up beside him again, right inside the main doors. He was thankful that there
weren’t the extremely long lines like the summer before.
He was pleasantly surprised when it was as simple as Winky had said. A little bit of
paperwork, a couple of magical signature checks on both of them and they were pretty much
set. Harry was even more thankful when he didn’t see anyone he recognized. He sent Winky
back to Grimmauld Place to work on making it liveable for them, while he Apparated back to
Privet Drive.
*****
A/N: It was pointed out to me that in the last chapter I stated that Snape had taught Draco
Occlumency. I had completely forgotten that we learned in HBP that Bellatrix was the one to
teach Draco. It’s not a major change, but I did go back and fix that detail.
Many thanks to all those who have been reading and to all those who have reviewed. It’s
much appreciated! Thanks! ~~Biza
Chapter Six
Chapter Notes

Chapter Six
Tuesday morning, Harry left Victoria in Draco and Winky’s care at the Dursleys and
Apparated to Grimmauld Place. He was a little amused at how thankful Draco was to have
Winky’s help this time. Draco had done all right by himself with Victoria, but he wasn’t
nearly as comfortable as Harry with the baby care.
Harry was a touch early and fully expected Snape to already be there. He was surprised when
he wasn’t, but was even more amazed at the appearance of the kitchen. He stared dazedly at
the room that just two days before had looked like a dust bin. Now, it looked downright
pristine. The transformation was astounding.
Curiously, Harry walked over to check the cupboards. Everything inside seemed to be clean
and stocked as well. Feeling much better about eventually moving into this place, he set
about making some tea. He was oddly proud, considering he hadn’t done any of the work to
make this room presentable.
Pouring a cup of tea, he heard when Snape entered the house. The man came to a sudden
standstill immediately inside the kitchen.
“Potter,” he said sternly. “How did this bloody room acquire this level of cleanliness?”
Harry shot him a look. “Would you like a cup of tea?” he asked.
Snape exhaled heavily, glanced around the room again and then, to Harry’s surprise, nodded
gratefully. Snape sat down at the table as Harry poured another cup of tea and set all the
essentials on the table.
Harry sat down with his own cup of tea and watched as Snape meticulously prepared his
before taking a sip.
“Potter,” he said wearily. “Would you care to explain how you managed this?”
Harry noticed the man looked especially haggard, and he didn’t look like he had the energy to
argue with Harry. He reminded Harry of Draco when he’d first started coming to the
Dursleys, and Harry found himself feeling a twinge of worry for both.
“I, uh, kind of acquired a house-elf,” Harry admitted.
“In addition to Kreacher?” Snape asked.
Harry’s nose automatically wrinkled in disgust at the sound of Kreacher’s name. “Yes,
Kreacher probably hadn’t cleaned this house since Sirius’ mum actually died years ago. I’ve
got one that can obviously be much more useful.”
“Potter, we can’t have house-elves here that aren’t bound,” Snape said, his tone harsh again.
“I figured that as well,” Harry said, ignoring Snape’s tone. “So, um, I bound one to me.”
Snape looked at him appraisingly. “Do tell me that you did not bind that Dobby creature to
yourself.”
“Merlin, no!” Harry exclaimed in horror. “I’d never survive!”
He could’ve sworn he saw Snape’s lips quirking in amusement.
“Then who?” Snape questioned.
Harry glanced at the man warily. “Winky,” he admitted quietly.
“Ah,” Snape said in understanding. “I’m impressed, Potter. She is probably a wise choice,
particularly considering that you know some of her history.”
“I wasn’t real concerned about her loyalty,” Harry said wryly. “Not once she was bound,
anyway.”
“Indeed,” Snape said before sipping at his tea.
Harry was finding the situation a little surreal, especially after the hostilities from the last
time they’d met. He’d have to offer the man tea more often, he decided.
“Is it presumptuous to believe this baby you mentioned has something to do with your
sudden acquisition of another house-elf?” Snape asked smoothly.
Harry stiffened. He did not want to fight about Victoria again, and he tried to answer without
sounding too defensive. “I needed the help, because I couldn’t take care of a baby and fight a
war at the same time,” he explained.
Snape was staring at him intently, making Harry want to squirm, even after he lowered his
gaze to the tabletop.
“Potter, is this an illegitimate child?” he questioned.
“Yes,” Harry answered truthfully. She just wasn’t his illegitimate child. “I only found out
about Victoria after I went back to the Dursleys at the beginning of the summer. Her mother
was scared about everything that has been happening. I acquired her and unfortunately her
mother and her mother’s family were all killed recently in one of the attacks,” he said quietly.
“I am the only one she can rely on at the moment.”
“I gather your friends do not know about these recent developments,” Snape said, and Harry
realized it wasn’t a question.
Harry simply shook his head. His friends didn’t know and if they found out, he wasn’t sure if
Ron would kill him first for his association with Draco, or if Hermione would claim the
honours for binding Winky. Aside from any political and safety concerns, he altogether
thought it wiser not to inform his friends for the time being.
“The Weasleys think that I’m planning to move into the Burrow after my birthday at the end
of the month,” he said, quietly explaining. “I’m hoping to move in here instead. If Winky can
do this,” he said, gesturing to the pristine kitchen, “then surely she’ll be able to make the
house liveable again over the next few weeks.”
“It would be far more convenient if you were living here,” Snape said in agreement. “For
today, we will work on your Occlumency. We will have Winky clear a room so that we can
get started on your Defence training later.”
Harry looked at him in surprise. “You’re going to train me?” he asked.
“Potter, that last night at Hogwarts, you would have been dead if you’d been facing off
anyone other than myself,” Snape said evenly. For once, he wasn’t accusing, simply stating a
fact.
Harry shifted uncomfortably. “I’d already figured that out,” he admitted. “Its part of the
reason I realized which side you were really on still, although it took me awhile to calm down
and understand that.”
He looked at Snape nervously. “I want you to train me. I just didn’t really expect you to do it
willingly,” he said. “I’ve been working on my Occlumency constantly the last couple of
weeks, and I’m sure I can improve more, but I’m ready to move on.”
It happened quickly, but Harry wasn’t surprised when Snape suddenly produced his wand and
cast Legilimens. Harry hadn’t been prepared for it, but he still managed to put up his shield
quickly enough that Snape didn’t break through. Draco had taken to casting the spell at odd
moments over the last few days and Harry was actually becoming fairly proficient at warding
off the attacks.
Snape ended the spell and raised a brow in surprise. “Indeed,” he said. “Perhaps you are
ready to move on.”
“I’m prepared to work hard,” Harry said quietly. “I need to train so that I can fight better and
I need to work on the task that Dumbledore gave me. I need your help and I understood that
you wouldn’t really be able to help me until I learned to shield my thoughts.”
“We have difficult times ahead of us,” Snape warned.
“I know,” Harry said, raising his chin in determination, “but I’m ready to do whatever I have
to.”
Snape rolled his eyes. “Don’t get cocky again now,” he said dryly.
“I’m not,” Harry protested. He tilted his head curiously. “Why are you being so . . . calm
today?” he asked bemusedly. Nice hadn’t been quite the right word, but it had almost slipped
past Harry’s lips.
“That is none of your concern, Mr. Potter,” Snape said stiffly.
Harry eyed him contemplatively. “You look tired, as if you’ve been up all night,” he risked
making the observation.
“I am often up all hours of the night, but yes, it was more difficult than normal,” Snape said
evenly.
“And I reckon you can’t tell me what you were actually doing,” Harry said, his tone slightly
bitter. Ironically, Harry already knew about the raid Snape had been on and he knew Snape
had been assigned more potions to brew. It was irritating that Snape wouldn’t actually tell
him any of that, though.
“When I have information that you need to know, I will tell you,” Snape said calmly. “There
is nothing you need to know regarding the events of yesterday.”
His eyes narrowed. “Potter, you will not be able to save everyone,” he said. “The Dark Lord
only presents his followers with so much information before any attacks and I also need to be
able to protect my position.”
Harry exhaled heavily, rubbing absently at his temples. He actually knew that already from
Draco. Draco had taken to bringing the Daily Prophet with him, and telling Harry any
information he could regarding what wasn’t in the paper. None of it had been anything that
Harry could actually do anything about, but it was still good to know.
“So, how do you get information to me when you are able to pass on something useful?” he
asked.
“Your house-elf will do to pass on messages for the time being,” Snape said.
Harry called for Winky and gave her the order that she was to listen to Snape and then they
looked over one of the drawing rooms. Snape instructed her on how he wanted the room set
up as a training room. She got to work on that, then Harry went through a more intensive
testing of his Occlumency.
He was proud because he did so well, but he felt horribly ill afterwards. It had been difficult
enough keeping Draco out of his mind. Keeping Snape out of his mind seemed to require
twice as much effort. Snape sent him home with the order to be back at Grimmauld Place the
next afternoon, and Harry left quickly before Snape could decide to torture him any further.
*****
“Where are you going now?” Draco asked irritably.
“I’ve got things to do,” Harry answered absently, pulling on his trainers. His mind wasn’t
really in the room. He was already thinking about where he was going.
“Are you going to be disappearing like this all the time now?” Draco sneered.
“Probably,” Harry said, glancing at Draco and wondering why exactly he was irritated.
“Off to see the Weasel and the Mudblood, then?” Draco said maliciously.
Actually, no, Harry thought. He was off to see Draco’s friend. He’d received an owl from
Blaise on Monday agreeing to meet with Harry and now, two days later, Harry was again
wondering about his sanity.
“Don’t call them that,” Harry said flatly.
Draco’s forehead creased as he frowned. Harry felt satisfied that he’d not reacted in the way
that Draco had expected him to. He wondered if Draco was feeling like Harry was deserting
him and that’s what this was all about. Even if that wasn’t how Draco was feeling, Harry had
to admit to himself that that was somewhat how he was feeling personally. He’d become
quite accustomed to these morning visits.
“I haven’t seen my friends since I left Hogwarts,” Harry said. “I do need to meet up with
them soon, but I’ve been a little busy trying to sort out things for you and Victoria so far this
summer,” he said pointedly.
Draco was still frowning, and he winced a little at Harry’s comments. “Have you . . . are you
working on a safe place for us to go?” he asked hesitantly.
Harry nodded. “Amongst other things,” he admitted. It wasn’t what he was actually working
on at the moment, but he’d gotten things started at Grimmauld Place finally. “I’m hoping to
have things worked out by the end of the month,” he added. He was sure the house would be
ready and hopefully by then he could have things worked out with Snape—one way or
another.
Draco didn’t make any further comment, but he visibly relaxed a little. Harry kissed Victoria
on the forehead, telling her he’d be back, gave Draco a final glance and then was out the
door.
Harry was far from relaxed as he Apparated to Diagon Alley then slipped into the Leaky
Cauldron. He spotted Blaise almost immediately and was grateful that he at least appeared to
be alone.
Unfortunately, Tom spotted Harry almost immediately as well. “Harry! Glad to see you!
What can I get for you?” he asked.
“Nothing today, thanks,” Harry said, shaking his head. “I’m just passing through as I have
some things to do in Muggle London today.”
“You watch yourself,” Tom warned. “There’s nowhere safe these days.”
“I will,” Harry assured him, slipping out the door. He walked quickly, putting some distance
between him and the Leaky Cauldron. Eventually he arrived at the small park that they had
agreed to meet at and he leaned up against one of the benches while he waited for Blaise.
Blaise arrived a minute later, casually resting against one of the nearby trees. To anyone
watching, they’d simply be a couple of friends meeting up to talk. Neither of them were
nearly as relaxed as they appeared to be, though.
“Zabini,” Harry said evenly, watching the other boy closely.
“What do you want, Potter?” Blaise asked.
Getting straight to the point worked for Harry. “I want to know if you and your family really
are neutral in this war,” he said.
Blaise’s eyes widened marginally. “What makes you think we’re neutral?” he asked.
Harry shrugged. “I know that you’re not marked, and neither is your mother, but you haven’t
been actively on my side either,” he said.
“How could you possibly know that we’re not marked?” Blaise asked, frowning.
“I asked Voldemort the last time we had tea,” Harry said sarcastically.
Blaise flinched at the name, scowling at Harry. “You’re no friendlier with the Dark Lord than
I am,” he said.
“Why do you call him the Dark Lord?” Harry asked, jumping on that immediately. The fact
that Blaise said he wasn’t friendly with Voldemort didn’t tell him anything, as no one was
friends with the bastard.
“Because I happen to value my life,” Blaise sneered. “Yes, my mother and I are attempting to
stay neutral, but I know he wants to mark me after I’m out of Hogwarts.” His frown returned.
“And if Hogwarts doesn’t even open again next year . . . ,” he trailed off.
“Then Voldemort will probably want to mark you soon,” Harry said flatly, finishing the
sentence for him.
Blaise simply nodded once. Harry eyed him speculatively. “This would be why you actually
agreed to meet with me, isn’t it?” he stated more than asked. He’d taken a risk deciding to
write Blaise, but had still been shocked to actually get a response.
“If something doesn’t happen soon to change things, then I’m fucked,” Blaise said bluntly. “I
can claim to be neutral all I want, but it’s not practical.”
Harry chuckled darkly. “You’re stuck between me and Voldemort. Lousy choices for
someone like yourself, but if you have to choose one, then you might as well choose the one
that’s not going to kill you first thing,” he said. “You saw what happened to Malfoy this last
year, and don’t really want it happening to you.”
Blaise’s eyes narrowed. “Potter, why exactly did you contact me?” he asked. “You’re
obviously aware of my limited choices, but I would think that you considered me an enemy.”
Harry pointedly put his wand back in his pocket, before running his hand through his hair as
he debated how to answer him. He couldn’t tell Blaise about being in contact with Draco. He
didn’t trust either of the Slytherins enough for that. It was also one thing to risk himself, quite
another to reveal someone else’s secrets.
“I’ve never had a problem with you,” he said slowly. He cast a sidelong glance at Blaise.
“You haven’t really seemed to have a direct problem with me, either.”
Blaise remained silent but Harry clearly had his full attention.
“I need all the allies I can get,” Harry said, and Blaise’s eyebrows shot up.
“You’re actually looking for help from me? A Slytherin?” Blaise asked.
“Well, who else am I supposed to ask?” Harry said irritably. “Do you think I should’ve tried
going to Malfoy instead?” he asked sarcastically.
Blaise’s eyes narrowed again. “Is that what this is about?” he asked. “You’re trying to get
information about Draco from me?”
Harry rubbed at his temples. “I already know about Malfoy,” he said flatly, which was far
more true than Blaise would realize.
“You don’t know shite about him,” Blaise sneered.
“Are you actually going to try to defend him after what he did?” Harry asked, scowling
darkly. He couldn’t believe he was in this position, only pretending to act in a manner that
would’ve been completely real not long before.
“That wasn’t him,” Blaise said angrily, defending his friend.

“I hate the bastard. He brought the Death Eaters into Hogwarts and tried to kill Dumbledore,”
Harry said coldly. “Don’t try to tell me he was under Imperius.”
“I’m not,” Blaise snapped. “Fuck, Potter! I know Draco fucked up, but he just got caught up
in something bigger than him. He didn’t really want to do all that.”
“But he did do it,” Harry said. “You know it and I know it.”
“Fucking everybody knows it,” Blaise muttered.
“He’s your friend, isn’t he?” Harry asked.
Blaise turned his head to look out over the park. “I haven’t seen him, Potter, if that’s what
you’re asking,” he said.
“If you had, would you even tell me?” Harry asked.
Blaise shot Harry a sidelong glance. “Probably not,” he admitted. “I agreed to meet you today
because it would be foolish for me to pass up an opportunity to get some kind of protection.
It doesn’t mean that I’m willing to sell out my friends to get that protection, though.”
“What do you think I can actually do for you?” Harry asked, frowning. “Why don’t you go to
. . . ,” he trailed off. He had no idea who Blaise could contact that would actually help him in
any way.
“You just figured out that there is no one for me to go to, didn’t you?” Blaise sneered. “The
Ministry is worthless and if I tried going to them for protection they’d likely just lock me up.
None of the professors at Hogwarts are likely to trust me after what Draco did. Sad as it is,
you’re the fucking leader of the Light side now. You were completely right when you said
I’m stuck between you and the Dark Lord,” he said bitterly.
“Has Voldemort tried recruiting you yet?” Harry asked.
Blaise flinched again, but shook his head. “Not yet,” he answered, “but I’m certain he will
before the end of the summer.” He gazed at Harry solemnly. “I’m not a killer and I don’t
intend to become one.”
Harry rubbed at his temples, trying to will away the headache that was forming. This meeting
with Blaise was turning out more complicated than he’d expected. He’d gotten the
information he’d come for. He knew where Blaise’s loyalties essentially were and he was still
loyal to Draco, even though he didn’t agree with what his friend had done.
He hadn’t really expected Blaise to be looking to him for help, though, and he wasn’t quite
sure what to do. “I reckon there are more Slytherins stuck in your position as well,” he
muttered.
“Some,” Blaise agreed, “but not many in our year. Most have been sucked in by their families
to believe the shite that the Dark Lord tells them. Most of my so-called friends didn’t really
see what was happening to Draco this past year, but I did and I don’t want to be a part of it.”
“What about Parkinson?” Harry spat. “You’re trying to tell me she didn’t even see anything
with the way she always hung off of Malfoy?”
“Pansy’s a blind, ignorant bitch,” Blaise said, a malicious smirk gracing his features. “It
should make you happy to know you’ve been right about her all along.”
“I was right about Malfoy as well,” Harry said, scowling darkly and keeping up appearances.
His thoughts were on the Pansy-bitch rather than Draco, though. It was good to know that
there were at least some Slytherins that he was still allowed to hate freely.
“We’re not going to agree about Draco,” Blaise said flatly.
Harry understood that they did agree, though. Blaise missed his friend and was worried about
him, just as Draco was missing Blaise. Harry had to wonder how he’d feel if he was suddenly
on opposites sides of the war from Ron. Not that that would ever happen, but if it did, Harry
would definitely be upset about it.
He wasn’t as thrilled as he thought he should be that Blaise and Draco would likely be able to
hook back up again. He reckoned it was good that neither of them wanted to be Death Eaters,
at least, and that’s what he needed to be focusing on.
“I’m not sure what I can do for you,” he said slowly, trying to think things through. “I gather
you’re safe enough for the moment. Are you willing to go into hiding if Voldemort does
decide to recruit you?”
Blaise grimaced, but nodded.
“Hopefully it won’t even come down to that,” Harry said grimly. “I fully intend to take down
Voldemort as soon as I possibly can. I could use information, though.” He eyed Blaise
calculatingly. “Are you willing to pass on any information you can come up with?”
“I don’t know much, Potter,” Blaise said irritably. “At the moment, I’m still technically
neutral so people don’t tell me much about what’s going on.”
“I think you know far more than you’re letting on,” Harry sneered. “But have it your way.
Here’s the deal. You fill me in on what you can and whatever you feel comfortable telling
me. However, I especially want the names of anyone else who is at risk of being recruited
that doesn’t want to be. If Voldemort contacts you, you let me know immediately. Get
prepared to go into hiding if it becomes necessary, and if it does, then I’ll provide a safe place
for you to go to,” he said.
Blaise reluctantly agreed and said that he would owl Harry soon. They went their separate
ways soon after, and Harry made his way to Grimmauld Place for training with Snape, lost in
thought about Slytherins and loyalties.
*****
“Concentrate, Potter!”
“I am!” Harry shouted, picking himself up off the floor for at least the tenth time in the last
twenty minutes.
He fervently wished that Winky had padded the floor with much thicker mats. As it was,
that’s all there was in the large drawing room. Snape had warded the room so that it was safe
for them to practice duelling, but Harry already hated the room with a passion.
Snape had been running him through defensive spells that he supposedly should’ve already
learned his last six years at Hogwarts. The problem lay in the fact that only Remus and Snape
had ever actually taught them anything useful, and maybe the fake Moody. Snape had worked
them all hard this last year, but he’d still been dealing with a classroom full of students at
once. Now, Harry was his sole focus and neither of them were happy.
“Potter, how do you expect to defeat the Dark Lord if you can’t even defend basic spells?”
Snape asked nastily.
“Basic spells?!” Harry shouted incredulously. “I can defend basic spells. I just don’t have a
clue as to what you’re even casting at me, let alone how to defend myself from them.”
“Your defence training has been worthless,” Snape said contemptuously.
“You were my last Defence teacher,” Harry retorted.
Snape’s eyes narrowed dangerously and Harry cursed the fact that he hadn’t kept his mouth
shut.
“You are clearly lacking in your first five years of training,” Snape said coldly. “Therefore,
we will start back at the beginning.”
By Friday evening, Harry was almost positive that Snape had drilled him on every single
spell that had ever been mentioned in his textbooks for the first five years at Hogwarts. If he
hadn’t known it beforehand, he was quickly and efficiently taught it. He was extremely
thankful that he was a quick learner in practical defence.
Even so, Harry gratefully sank his bruised body into the bath that night. The Dursleys had left
for some weekend retreat as soon as Uncle Vernon had arrived home from work so he
actually had the house to himself. Unfortunately, they were supposed to be back earlier on
Sunday this time, but for the moment, he didn’t care.
He wasn’t at all looking forward to having to meet Snape first thing in the morning to start all
over again. He told himself that his reluctance had nothing to do with missing the time that
he’d normally spend with Draco in the morning. He probably wouldn’t see him again until
Monday. Snape had made Harry miss his time with Draco that morning as well. He’d left a
note for Draco, but realized that he probably wasn’t very happy with Harry at the moment.
Resigned, Harry went to bed early that night and spent all day Saturday reviewing every spell
he’d ever been taught, or should’ve been taught, in Defence.
*****
It wasn’t until Sunday morning that everything fell apart. He found Snape waiting for him in
the kitchen, as usual, but he was ordered unceremoniously to sit instead of heading for the
training room.
“The Dark Lord called his followers again,” Snape said. “He has assigned tasks for many of
us.”
That got Harry’s full attention. “What are you and Malfoy supposed to do?” he burst out.
Snape glared at him sharply. “Mr. Malfoy is no concern of yours, Potter.”
Cursing himself, Harry floundered for a way to cover his slip. “Malfoy’s last task was to kill
off Dumbledore. Forgive me for being concerned about my own life,” he spat sarcastically.
He breathed an inward sigh of relief when Snape bought it. He didn’t want to question the
swirl of emotions in his chest too deeply.
“The Dark Lord is unaware of your location at the moment,” Snape sneered. “I believe you
are safe from Mr. Malfoy for the time being.”
Harry wanted to laugh hysterically, considering that Mr. Malfoy had been disrupting his life
for a few weeks already.
“Potter,” Snape said impatiently. “Revenge on Malfoy should not be your primary concern.”
“Why not?” Harry asked, knowing he was stepping into very risky territory. “He’s a bastard
Death Eater just like I’ve always suspected. His actions caused so many people to be hurt this
past year. Obviously he’s a threat!”
“He’s far less of a threat to you than the Dark Lord,” Snape shouted furiously. “You will
desist with your concerns about Malfoy and focus on the real problem!”
“Oh, was poor little Malfoy not given one of Voldemort’s precious tasks last night?” Harry
taunted. “Is he all upset now? I’m sure you know where he is since he always seems to be
hanging on in your shadows.”
“Malfoy has locked himself into his room for the last two days,” Severus said viciously. “He
is not a threat! I’m tired of repeating myself, Potter!”
Harry blinked in astonishment. “Why?” It wasn’t for Snape to know that Harry was
astonished because he knew that it coincided with Harry not being there in the mornings at
the Dursley’s house. “Is he pouting because of not getting a task this time?” he taunted, trying
to keep up the pretence.
“His pouting started long before the meeting with the Dark Lord,” Snape ground out between
clenched teeth. “Whatever his current issues are, it has nothing to do with you or this war.”
So much for what Snape knew, Harry thought. Harry recognized the guilt that was flowing
through him.
He ran his hands through his hair agitatedly. “What’s the latest from dear old Voldemort
then?”
Snape frowned at Harry’s sudden calm attitude, despite the agitation still obviously flowing
through him. Snape took a deep breath before addressing Harry with his cool, professorial
tones. “The Dark Lord is planning an attack on a small town tonight. It is near Little
Whinging,” he said.
He paused, registering the gasp and look of horror crossing Harry’s face before continuing. “I
know that there will be forty followers sent there sometime after dark, but I cannot give you
any specific time. It is not often that I have even this much information in advance.”
“Which town?” Harry whispered.
Snape shook his head. “As I said, the Dark Lord does not often give out too much of his
plans in advance. He was quite pleased, however, to gloat about the fact that he was coming
so close to your home,” he said with a grimace.
“He’s attacking an entire town full of people because they live close to me,” Harry said flatly.
Snape nodded curtly.
“You don’t know anything else?” Harry asked.
“I know that I will be there,” Snape said evenly.
“So you can feel special about hitting me literally close to home,” Harry said bitterly.
Snape’s lips twisted into a smirk, faint surprise that Harry had understood. “Yes, I believe that
is why I have been informed of this information.”
Harry shot him a glare. “Will Malfoy be there also to take part in hurting me?” he asked
bitterly.
Considering their argument from a short time ago, Snape hesitated before answering. “I
believe so,” he said slowly. “But I do not want you there to exact revenge on Malfoy,” he
added sharply. “I do not want you there at all.”
“What?!” Harry exclaimed incredulously.
“You are not to be lost in one of the minor battles when you are meant to win the war,” Snape
said.
Harry stared at him. “I’m supposed to just sit in my room when I could be out there fighting
and helping?”
“Yes,” Snape answered. “Your job is to get this information to the Order so that they can do
what they can to help prevent too much damage.”
Harry continued to stare at Snape, letting his words and the reality sink in. “Fine,” he said
finally. “I’ve got work ahead of me today,” he said, his voice hard and cold. “Is there
anything else you can tell me?”
Snape gave him an odd look, considering Harry’s sudden change of attitude, but he spent the
next fifteen minutes explaining his suggestions for a plan of counter-attack while Harry
listened intently.
*****
Chapter Seven
Chapter Notes

Chapter Seven
First things first, Harry Apparated back to the Dursley’s house. His Invisibility Cloak would
likely come in handy.
“Where the fuck have you been?”
Harry glanced up in shock, seeing Draco on the stairs and glaring at him. After a second, he
realized that Draco looked a combination of relieved and agitated, but he didn’t actually look
angry.
“Potter, where the fuck are you when people need you?” Draco shouted, rephrasing his
question.
Harry winced, deciding that Draco was maybe a little angry after all. He didn’t really have
time to deal with Draco, though, and pushed past him on his way up the stairs.
“What do you want, Malfoy?” he asked impatiently.
“There’s going to be an attack,” Draco burst out.
Harry stiffened before grabbing Draco’s arm and yanking him into his room. He knew there
was going to be an attack, but he’d been under the impression that Draco didn’t know.
“What are you on about?” Harry asked harshly.
He didn’t realize his fingers were biting into Draco’s biceps until Draco wrenched his arm
free. “Sorry,” Harry muttered automatically, earning him an odd look.
Harry ignored the look and asked directly, “What kind of attack and where?”
He listened intently as Draco rattled off the information Snape had told him not long before.
The difference being that Draco named the small village.
“How do you know the attack will happen there?” Harry asked quickly. “Where’d you get
this information?”
“I’m a Death Eater, Potter!” Draco exclaimed, and Harry was worried that he was sounding a
little hysterical. “It tends to make me privy to inside information!”
Harry rolled his eyes impatiently. “Did you hear this from Voldemort himself?”
Draco shifted. “Well, no,” he admitted, although he still sounded agitated. “But I know it’s
going to happen!”
“How do you know?” Harry asked, glaring intently.
Draco didn’t look like he wanted to answer, but then he suddenly blurted it out. “Snape, all
right! He warned me to be careful because I’m going to get called on this bloody attack!”
“Do you know for sure it’s this town?” Harry asked in a rush. That was the information he
needed and he needed to know if it was reliable. He knew damned well that that little piece of
information hadn’t come from Snape.
“Yes, I’m bloody sure!” Draco shouted.
“Fuck it all!” Harry shouted back. “How are you so sure?”
Draco started shifting nervously again. “I got the name of the village from Wormtail,” he
blurted out. “So, all right, I got my information from two of your least favourite Death Eaters,
but I know it’s accurate.”
Harry bit his lip, debating whether information from Wormtail could be trusted or not.
“Malfoy, if you’re wrong . . . ,” he trailed off.
“I’m not wrong, Potter!” Draco snapped. “I’m not risking my bloody life to bring you
inaccurate information. I got my information from Snape and double checked it. Wormtail’s a
scummy creature but he’s always under the Dark Lord’s nose. He was able to confirm
Snape’s information for me and . . . with a little persuasion . . . he was stupid enough to give
me a little more information.”
Now, that Harry could believe. He could easily picture Wormtail spluttering out whatever he
could so that he wouldn’t be punished. “Did you hurt him?” Harry asked, maybe a little too
hopefully considering Draco responded with a gleeful smirk.
“Not bad enough to raise questions, but he’ll be feeling a might uncomfortable the rest of the
day,” Draco answered.
“Good,” Harry said with a returning smirk, before he focused again on the situation at hand.
He noticed Draco’s face quickly fell into anxiety again.
“Are you all right?” Harry asked.
“No, I’m not bloody all right!” Draco exclaimed. “I’m supposed to go out tonight and do my
best to take down anybody in my path for the sole purpose that it hopefully crushes you! I
don’t want to do this!”
His voice was rising to a worrying pitch. “Malfoy, calm down!” Harry commanded firmly.
To his surprise, Draco stopped his ranting immediately and attempted to catch his breath.
Harry unceremoniously pushed him back to sit on the desk chair and crouched in front of
him. Draco’s eyes were shut tight and he seriously looked like he was falling apart at the
seams.
“I don’t want to do this,” Draco choked out. “I didn’t have to do the raids before. This will be
the first time I’ve been expected to actually . . . do this. Even when I went on the attack of
Victoria’s home, I didn’t have to do anything. I was there to watch and learn,” he said,
sounding ill.
Harry took a deep breath. “Look, calm down,” he said firmly, but keeping his voice as calm
and soothing as he could at the same time. “You can do this.”
Draco’s eyes snapped open. “You want me to hurt people?” he asked incredulously.
“No!” Harry said impatiently. “But you’re going to do what you have to do. You’re a fucking
Slytherin, Malfoy! For Merlin’s sake, you can figure out how to do this without actually
doing real damage. You’ve just got to be sneaky about it.”
He ignored Draco’s stunned expression and continued. “It’s a Death Eater attack and with
this type of situation you’ll be spread out everywhere trying to cause the most damage to the
town. The others won’t likely be watching you too closely.”
“Snape’ll be watching,” Draco interjected. “He’s always watching out for me.”
“Fine,” Harry said. “Then make it look like you’re doing what you’re supposed to be doing
while making it difficult for anyone watching to tell.”
Draco frowned in confusion. He was still highly agitated and it seemed to be taking him
longer to comprehend.
“Malfoy, think!” Harry snapped. “Hasn’t anyone ever taught you defensive strategies?”
“No, I’m taught offence,” Draco retorted.
“Merlin,” Harry muttered. “I could’ve sworn you were in Snape’s class this past year.”
“I’ve never been as good at Defence as you,” Draco sulked.
Harry really wanted to just scream out his frustration, but he didn’t have time for that. He
also didn’t have time to dwell on the fact that he was trying to soothe Draco’s fears about
participating in a Death Eater attack. He cursed the fact that Draco really didn’t seem to be
any good in a crisis.
Taking a deep breath, Harry started again. “Malfoy, you’re lean and swift. Keep moving!
Don’t give anyone watching you time to really focus on you. Keep firing spells! But use less
damaging spells. Stupefy should help because it will down people in your path, but not
actually hurt them badly. The other Death Eaters aren’t likely to stop at a downed victim and
check what damage has actually been done to them. They’ll keep moving, just like you need
to keep moving.”
Harry closed his eyes, cursing the fact that Snape would be a far better choice at helping
Draco deflect attention while doing the least amount of damage. “Stick to your shadows, and
make damned sure you keep your hood up,” he added, opening his eyes to glare at Draco
again. “If anyone recognizes you, there are a lot of people that’ll target you immediately.”
“Oh, gods,” Draco moaned. “I can’t do this.”
“You have to for the moment,” Harry said firmly.
“Potter, do you realize what you’re saying?” Draco asked plaintively.
Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Yes, I do,” he snapped.
“Why?” Draco asked in a small voice. “Why are you helping me with . . . this?”
“Because I don’t really want to see you dead!” Harry exclaimed.
Draco blinked at him in astonishment. “You don’t?”
Harry was flustered for a moment. “No, I don’t. But, um,” he paused and took a deep breath,
hoping to ward off any more floundering. “Look, you’re Victoria’s father. She needs you.
You’ve said yourself that you can’t leave the Death Eaters. I know Voldemort would track
you down and have you killed, not to mention your mother. I know you have to do this right
now, whether I like it or not.”
He gave Draco a speculative glance. “Whether you like it or not.”
Draco looked down to the floor, sighing heavily. “I got myself into this, I have to deal with
it,” he said in resignation.
“You are not going to just sit down and admit defeat,” Harry snapped. “Already you’re trying
to do something to change the situation. That’s a good thing, Malfoy.”
“I’m not cut out for this, Potter! I can’t do it!” Draco exclaimed.
“You will do it until we can figure out a way to get you and your family out of it alive!”
Harry shouted. “You’re going to put your damnable Malfoy mask back in place and you’re
going to get your aristocratic arse out there tonight. You’re going to ignore everything that
you can’t do anything about. You’re going to do the best that you can, and you’re going to do
what Slytherins do best and save your own arse!”
Harry only paused for breath as he continued his rant, shouting at the gobsmacked blond.
“On top of all that, you’re going to hope like hell that I can get things worked out so that this
will all get thwarted and you won’t actually have to do anything anyway! You’ll hope like
hell that Voldemort doesn’t decide you’re one of the ones deserving the Cruciatus Curse
tonight for a failed mission! And if you are one of the unfortunates that does get the lovely
privilege of that curse tonight, then you’re going to deal with it and be thankful you’ve got
Snape protecting you because he’ll help make sure you get healed up properly with all his
damned potions!”
Harry heaved in another breath. “You’re right that you got yourself into this mess, now
you’re going to have to fucking deal with it until we can figure out how to get you out of it
safely. Now, pull yourself fucking together!”
Draco gazed at him dazedly for several long seconds before he visibly began pulling himself
together as Harry ordered. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, watching Draco’s spine straighten
and his expression morph into his trademark smirk. The bloodshot eyes, the dark smudges
under them and the gaunt cheeks were still there and not exactly encouraging, but overall
Draco didn’t look as if he was going to fall apart any longer.
“I didn’t know you had it in you, Potter,” Draco drawled.
Harry rolled his eyes and stood finally. With that mini-breakdown apparently dealt with, he
still had a lot to do. Glancing across the small room, he finally registered Winky staring back
at them with her impossibly wide eyes.
“Winky, I need you to stay here with Victoria,” Harry said commandingly. He didn’t have
time for niceties. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
“Does Master Harry need Winky for anything else?” she asked.
Harry’s brow furrowed, thinking hard about all the things that needed to be taken care of
before nightfall. “No,” he said, shaking his head decisively. He was already digging through
his trunk and slammed the lid closed after he’d pulled out his Invisibility Cloak.
“Is that an Invisibility Cloak?” Draco asked incredulously.
“Yes,” Harry said shortly, already stuffing it into a rucksack which he promptly threw over
his shoulder. He wasn’t wearing robes and it wasn’t exactly going to be hidden if he tried
stuffing it under his shirt. This would keep it out of sight and safe for the moment. His eyes
swept his room again, trying to determine if there was anything else he needed. Not seeing
anything, he strode to the door.
“Potter, wait!”
“What, Malfoy?” Harry questioned, continuing his way down the stairs.
“What are you planning on doing?” Draco asked.
“I’m going to set up a counter-attack,” Harry said calmly.
“That’s not what I meant, Potter,” Draco snapped. “I meant, where are you planning on being
tonight?”
Harry rounded on Draco. “I plan on doing what I can to save as many bloody people as
possible,” he ground out. “You tell me where I’ll be tonight.”
“Potter, you can’t be there!” Draco exclaimed.
“Why not?” Harry asked incredulously.
“You can’t get hurt!” Draco snapped.
Harry blinked at him in amazement.
“Well, what am I supposed to do if you end up dead?” Draco said, flushing a little.
Harry shook his head. “I don’t plan on dying tonight, Malfoy,” he said coldly.
“Potter!”
“No, this isn’t up for debate,” Harry said, his eyes flashing dangerously. “You have your job
to do tonight and I have my job.”
“Why do you have to be a bloody Gryffindor?” Draco muttered even as he backed off.
Harry rolled his eyes before spinning on his heel and heading for the back door, Draco still
following him.
Harry made it to the narrow alleyway behind the house and turned to face Draco. He realized
Draco was again looking nervous. “Malfoy, just do the best you can,” he said softly.
Draco shook his head, indicating that wasn’t what he was worried about now. “Can I come
back tomorrow?” he asked quietly. “Will you be here?”
Harry quirked a lopsided grin. “Sure, Malfoy. I’ll be here.”
Draco offered Harry a small smile. Harry took the smile with him as he Apparated to the
Burrow.
*****
Harry pushed open the back door and didn’t even have a chance to register who all was there
before he was engulfed in a huge hug.
“Harry, we were so worried about you!” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. She pushed him back so
she could get a good look at him. “Hmmm, you actually look like you’ve been eating more
this summer.”
He grinned. “I’ve been eating fine, Mrs. Weasley.”
“Harry!”
Harry turned in time to be slammed by Hermione. He hugged her back, then wrapped Ginny
in a warm embrace. A round of back-slapping with Ron and the twins and Harry was allowed
to step back and breathe again.
“Harry, we didn’t expect you yet,” Hermione said excitedly. “I thought you said you weren’t
coming until your birthday.”
Harry immediately sobered. “I’m not here to stay,” he said flatly before turning to Mrs.
Weasley. “I need to call an Order meeting, but, um, I don’t know how,” he admitted.
He rubbed his temples at the chorus of exclamations. This was turning into a bloody long
day, with no end in sight.
“Stop!” he shouted, bringing blessed silence down upon the room.
Harry gazed calmly at Mrs. Weasley. “Do you know how to contact the Order?”
“Is it urgent?” she questioned nervously.
Frowning, Harry debated what urgent actually meant. “We’ve got until nightfall,” he
answered with a shrug. It wasn’t like the Death Eaters were invading the town in ten minutes
or something.
Her eyes widened, but she nodded decisively. “Then that’ll be time enough to set the Floo
network in motion,” Mrs. Weasley said, already moving to the fireplace. Harry stepped
forward as she contacted McGonagall.
“Minerva, Harry is here and wishes to call an Order meeting immediately,” Mrs. Weasley
said.
Harry wondered if his professor looked as alarmed at the news as everyone else had. Her
voice sounded as stern as it usually did as she requested to speak to Harry directly. Mrs.
Weasley eased back out of the fire and gestured Harry into it with her. Harry knelt down
before the fireplace and stuck his head into the green flames.
“Mr. Potter?” McGonagall questioned.
“Professor, there will be an attack in one of the small towns near Little Whinging tonight,” he
said bluntly, and wasn’t surprised to be surrounded by a chorus of gasps. “I need to get the
Order gathered and prepare for the counter-attack.”
“How do you know? Are you certain?”

“Yes, I’m certain,” Harry said firmly, nodding to her. “I had a vision where I overheard this
information,” he lied smoothly. He’d prepared himself for this. He snorted inwardly. Or
rather, Snape had prepared him for this.
McGonagall stared at him for a few seconds longer, before facing Mrs. Weasley. “Molly, you
know who to call. I’ll start on my end,” she said, waiting for the affirmative response from
Mrs. Weasley. “One hour,” she said firmly before she disappeared.
Harry backed away from the fireplace so Mrs. Weasley could start making her Floo calls. He
quickly learned that the Order had some kind of network in place so that everyone could be
contacted as quickly as possible. After listening to her inform Tonks and Mrs. Figg, Harry
turned back towards his friends who were all watching with worried expressions.
“Oh, Harry!” Hermione exclaimed softly. “You’re having visions again?”
“Yeah,” Harry answered wearily, flopping down in one of the chairs at the table.
“How do you know it’s true?” Ron blurted out.
Harry flinched, despite having known this issue would come up. “Can we afford to take the
risk of it not being true?” he snapped.
“But Harry,” Hermione began warily. “You know the history.”
Harry glared at her. “Yes, I do know,” he said sharply. “This felt different, though, and you’re
just going to have to trust me.”
“I do trust you,” Hermione said. “But, Harry, you can’t just know it’s different.”
Harry’s nostrils flared. “When Voldemort starts invading your head, then we’ll get into a
discussion about how it feels. Then you can lecture me about the subtle differences a person
learns to notice regarding visions that help determine whether it’s planted or whether
Voldemort even knows you’re seeing anything. Until that time, you’re just going to have to
trust that I’ve learned the bloody difference myself,” he said angrily.
Hermione was pale and looked incredibly hurt by Harry’s outburst, but Harry refused to feel
too guilty about it. She was just going to have to believe that this was a vision about
Voldemort’s plans, because he knew that she’d never believe him if he actually told the truth.
“All right, Harry,” Hermione said quietly.
Harry nodded his acknowledgement.
They all started when Mrs. Weasley rounded on them. “All right,” she said sternly. “We‘ll be
having have an Order meeting in a short time. I need tables and chairs set up on the back
lawn immediately. Fred and George, you know the routine.”
Trooping out to the backyard, everyone remained sober as they quickly got the backyard
arranged to accommodate the influx of people that would be there soon. In fact, as they
worked, people began arriving. Harry wasn’t a whole lot of help as he was soon being
greeted by half the members of the Order. He was thankful when no one questioned him,
though.
It finally hit him that no one probably knew why exactly they were being called there. He
looked around and recognized the confused and wary expressions. Professor McGonagall led
him to the sitting room when she arrived, casting Privacy wards on the room before speaking.
“Mr. Potter, everyone is particularly concerned and a little . . . nervous because this is the first
Order meeting that has been called since,” she swallowed hard. “Since the Headmaster
passed away.”
Harry blinked at her in amazement. “Why haven’t there been any Order meetings?” he
demanded. “There’s still a war going on!”
She pursed her lips in disapproval. “I know you are aware that we lost our connection to You
Know Who,” she said. “In the past month, we have had no information to work with.”
“Surely there are things the Order could still be doing!” Harry exclaimed.
“Mr. Potter, we have lost our leader in these dark times,” McGonagall said sternly. “People
are grieving. People have lost their sense of direction.”
“Well, they had best get it back,” Harry retorted. “We don’t bloody have time for people to
get lost now.”
Her eyes widened marginally. “Perhaps you are correct,” she said slowly. “But you should be
aware that people are understandably not trusting at the moment.”
“They had best get over it,” Harry said grimly, speaking more to himself than her as his gaze
went to the window. “I’ve got enough to deal with. I don’t need a bunch of squabbling adults
as well.”
McGonagall’s lips twitched as she studied him. “I think perhaps it is time for this meeting to
start.” With a flick of her wand she dropped the Privacy wards and briskly left the room,
Harry trailing along in her wake.
Harry hadn’t even stepped outside before he heard the yelling.
“You are not old enough to be attending these meetings,” Mrs. Weasley screeched at her
children and Hermione. “Now, I will hear no more of this.”
Ignoring them, Harry watched in amazement as Professor McGonagall took a seat just to the
left of the head of the long table, and gestured for Harry to take that spot. Remus was sitting
across from her and smiled at Harry in welcome, although it was a bit strained under the
circumstances.
Dazedly, Harry made his way over and stared down the length of the makeshift conference
table that had been created from several smaller tables being pushed together.
McGonagall gave him a sharp look of approval, and Harry took a deep breath before tuning
back in to the argument amongst the Weasleys.
“Mrs. Weasley,” he said firmly, gaining her attention. “I know you don’t want to have them
listen in on this meeting, but it would save me a lot of time if I could tell them at the same
time as I tell everyone else.”
Harry met her stern gaze steadily, not backing down. “You know that the second this meeting
is over that I will just have to start all over with explaining to them.”
Harry’s friends wisely remained silent, but were wide-eyed at the battle of wills taking place
before them.
Finally, Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips in disapproval, but nodded. Without another word, they
all quickly found seats at the table.
The entire table had gone quiet and everyone was staring at Harry. He glanced at McGonagall
again, but she simply nodded for him to go ahead. He hadn’t been prepared for this. He’d
expected her to be in charge now that Dumbledore was gone.
“Go ahead, Harry,” Remus said quietly, giving him a reassuring smile.
Harry returned the smile gratefully, finding his confidence returning. “Okay, I called this
Order meeting because there’s going to be an attack tonight.”
He felt unprepared again as chaos immediately broke out around the table. Some people
looked panicked, some looked disbelieving, some looked angry, and some simply looked sad.
“You called this Order meeting?” Shacklebolt asked in amazement, his deep voice carrying
over the cacophony surrounding him.
“Yes,” Harry answered simply. “We have a job that needs to be done tonight.”
“But you can’t be in charge,” someone shouted out that Harry didn’t recognize.
Harry shrugged. “Someone has to.”
“You are not even seventeen yet,” someone else exclaimed. “You cannot possibly presume to
take Dumbledore’s place.”
Harry’s face hardened. “You’re right,” he said coldly. “I’m not going to take Dumbledore’s
place. He was an amazing man, deeply respected, and looked up to by many. All of us here
grieve his absence, but what you seem to be forgetting is that he has never truly left us
alone.”
Harry was just as shocked as everyone else when a sudden trilling filled the air. “Fawkes,” he
breathed.
Looking up into the blue sky he saw the flash of red and gold circling towards them. He went
cross-eyed as the beautiful bird landed heavily on his shoulder. Blinking and refocusing, he
reached up to pet the phoenix, filled with awe at the sight. “Hello, Fawkes,” Harry whispered.
Fawkes trilled a cheerful greeting, warming Harry’s soul.
“He will always be here for those of us who believe,” Harry breathed in wonder. Taking
courage from the phoenix, he gazed back to the group of Order members. He realized all of
them were looking as awed as he felt.
“Professor Dumbledore will always be here with us in our hearts,” Harry said softly. “He will
remain with us as we heed his words and advice. I don’t believe he will ever truly be gone,”
he said, pausing and gazing at Fawkes again briefly. “I do not presume to take his place.”
Taking a deep breath, his tone was stronger when he spoke again. “However, I will not do
him a disservice by ignoring the tasks that need to be done. He would consider it a great
dishonour for us to be sitting here grieving while he’s off on his next great adventure,
anyway.”
McGonagall caught his eye and gave him an understanding smile. Harry smiled back, willing
to bet she’d heard Dumbledore talk about it many times. He watched as she retrieved her
wand from her pocket and conjured a perch for Fawkes. With another trill, the phoenix left
Harry’s shoulder and settled in comfortably, looking for all the world like he was overseeing
the meeting alongside Harry.
“So, are we ready to try this again?” Harry asked with a cheeky grin. He received some dazed
laughter in response.
Harry sobered and gazed solemnly at the gathered Order members. “I’m here and called this
meeting because there is a job that needs to be done tonight.”
Everyone was listening to him intently, and Harry could feel the pressure bearing down on
him. His connection to Voldemort was not something he freely talked about, and wasn’t so
sure he should be talking about it now. He needed these people to believe in him, though. He
decided to try just skipping over that part, fairly certain that’s what Dumbledore would have
done.
“Voldemort will be attacking a small town near Little Whinging where my relatives live,”
Harry said. “I don’t believe he can attack the town directly, probably because of something
Dumbledore has done in the past. I’m not really sure,” he admitted. “But I am sure that he’s
planning on this attack so that it hits literally close to home for me.”
“My, uh, method of obtaining information isn’t perfect, and I only know so much,” he said
and went on to explain what he did know, including the town, number of Death Eaters and
the fact that it was supposed to happen sometime during the night, although he couldn’t say
precisely when.
“How do you know all this?” Moody asked suspiciously.
Harry drew in a deep breath before responding. “It’s a method that you’ve all acted on before
that Dumbledore knew about,” he answered truthfully. It was just the spy method rather than
the scar method that some of them knew about.
“And what method would this be?” Shacklebolt questioned.
Harry floundered, not wanting to answer directly. He didn’t believe people would react well
to knowing he had a direct connection to Voldemort’s mind.
“It’s a complex skill based on the history between Harry and Voldemort,” Hermione spoke
up, laying her lecture tones on thick. “It relies heavily on the magical phenomena from when
Harry survived the Killing Curse as a baby, which means that it is not a skill that just anyone
can master. Professor Dumbledore was a wise man learned in the art of the Old Magic and
was able to help Harry develop his skills to a manageable level. It’s an imprecise magic,
unfortunately, but can be very useful,” she added briskly.
Harry stared at her in amazement as she continued spouting off utter nonsense. With her no-
nonsense voice and her reputation as a brainy bookworm, she was making her explanation
sound amazingly complex and completely believable. Since he was pretty sure even
Dumbledore hadn’t precisely understood Harry’s connection to Voldemort, he had to wonder
what Hermione was actually explaining so in-depth.
His gaze landed on Ron sitting beside her and had to repress his snicker as he recognized the
dazed expression Ron always got when he automatically tuned out Hermione’s lectures. He
risked a glance at Professor McGonagall who knew it was a load of nonsense. She kept her
stern mask in place, but her eyes were sparkling with amusement.
Checking out everyone else, he recognized several more people who were looking as dazed
as Ron. Tonks looked about ready to fall asleep, while Remus was gazing at Hermione as if
he was gleaning valuable knowledge. He wondered if Remus actually knew what Hermione
was describing. Many were just staring at her in fascination as she continued to rattle off
facts. No one seemed to be disbelieving, though, which Harry was thankful for. He was going
to owe Hermione for this one. He didn’t think anyone would dare to question how he was
coming up with this knowledge anymore.
“So, as I’m sure you can all clearly understand,” Hermione said, winding down. “It’s an
incredible and unique method Harry has that allows us to gain access to such important
information.”
She sat back primly and turned her gaze back to Harry expectantly.
“Um, yeah,” Harry said. “So, I believe we can discuss what our plan of attack will actually be
for tonight.”
Those that had become lost in a stupor with Hermione’s explanation became more animated
again as Harry spoke.
“Do you have any suggestions, Harry?” Remus asked.
Harry darted a small, grateful smile at him. People were already having enough trouble
adjusting to a teenager running the meeting. Support from some of the adult members was
both reassuring and helpful. Oddly enough, the majority of the group seemed to appreciate
the direction, even coming from someone so young. He had to wonder how much of it was
due to the fact that he was Harry Potter, the Chosen One.
Pushing those thoughts aside, Harry began laying out the basic strategies that Snape had gone
over that morning. The main difference being the fact that Harry narrowed the counter-attack
mostly down to one town. He hesitated briefly before suggesting that lookouts be posted in
the two neighbouring towns, pointing out that Voldemort had considered them and could
always change his mind. Someone should be on the lookout for Death Eater activity who
could Apparate and alert others if need be.
Harry sighed in relief as the others began cooperating and working out who would be where.
Moody and Shacklebolt seemed to take charge and Harry listened intently as everyone was
assigned their posts and duties. These people had done this before.
Sinking back into his chair, Harry realized that everyone had just needed someone to get
them started. Once they had some information and a little direction, like McGonagall had
pointed out, the group seemed to pull together into a cohesive unit.
Things were finally flowing smoothly until it came to the question of the youngest members
of the group. Fred, George, Ron, Ginny and Hermione were arguing over being left out,
stating they wanted to help. Mrs. Weasley actually had backup this time from other members
of the Order who didn’t want the “children” involved. Harry stayed out of it as long as
possible, but it wasn’t really that long before he was dragged into the argument.
“Harry wants to fight as well,” Ron exclaimed. “Right, Harry?”
Harry found himself suddenly in the spotlight again. “I will be where the fighting is,” he
admitted quietly.
“See!” Ron exclaimed triumphantly.
“That wasn’t a question out of your mouth, Harry,” Remus said sharply, catching what Ron
hadn’t. Attention quickly shifted to their end of the table. Remus didn’t often take that tone of
voice.
“No, it wasn’t,” Harry agreed calmly.
“Harry,” Remus said warningly.
Harry didn’t flinch under Remus’ penetrating gaze. “I know my importance in this war better
than any single person here,” he said, ignoring the sharp looks he knew he received from Ron
and Hermione, let alone everyone else. “I know and understand the risks that I am taking, and
I assure you that I don’t intend to be in the direct line of fire.”
“However, I will be where the fighting is,” Harry continued, his voice hard and filled with
determination. “If there is an opportunity that I can help, then I will do so. I will not be sitting
at home doing nothing when there is a war to fight.”
“This is one battle, not the war,” Remus said firmly.
Remus was a little surprised when Harry nodded his head in agreement. “You’re right. The
war will not be won by fighting these battles, but it will not stop me from doing whatever I
can to thwart Voldemort in his efforts.”
“Harry you’ve done your part by bringing this to our attention,” Remus said. “Now let us do
our part.”
“You will be,” Harry said evenly. “But this is a group effort tonight. It is foolish not to accept
as much help as possible. The larger the numbers, the more likely the Death Eaters will not
even stick around to fight. Placing us children as lookouts in the places needed frees up
others with more experience and skills in fighting the Death Eaters.”
Harry gestured to his friends. “Ron, Hermione, Ginny and myself do have some experience
fighting the Death Eaters. We’re not new to this and I see no point in trying to shelter us from
it.”
Remus sighed in defeat. “When you turn into this intelligent young man preparing for war,
you make far too much sense for me to argue with you.”
After that, Mrs. Weasley grudgingly allowed the others to be the lookouts in the other towns.
Harry knew she was still only allowing it because Harry had said there was only a slim
chance that Death Eaters would even show up there. His friends didn’t look overly pleased at
not being where things would likely be taking place, but they accepted the fact that they were
being allowed to go at all. Ron and Hermione would be together and the twins would be in
the other town keeping watch. Ginny didn’t know how to Apparate yet and would be going
with the twins who were capable of doing a Side-Along Apparition.
Harry refused to be anywhere else aside from where the battle was likely to take place, but
readily agreed that he would be utilizing his Invisibility Cloak.
The meeting was breaking up and the majority of the people that didn’t normally hang around
the Weasleys had left before Madam Pomfrey spoke up. “We have a slightly different
problem,” she said hesitantly, not seeming to know who to direct her concerns to at first.
Finally she focused on Professor McGonagall. “The hospital wing is stocked well enough for
any injuries that will hopefully not be occurring tonight, but if this type of occasion occurs
again, I will quickly run low on certain potions.”
McGonagall’s lips thinned to a tightly pressed line. “That does raise a concern,” she agreed.
“What happened to Slughorn?” Harry interjected curiously.
“Mr. Potter, I believe you were there when Professor Dumbledore asked him to come teach,”
McGonagall said sharply.
“He went back into hiding again, didn’t he?” Harry asked.
McGonagall nodded curtly. “Unfortunately, it is not just a matter of losing him,” she stated.
Harry narrowed his eyes in suspicion and she nodded again. “Bloody hell!” he exclaimed.
“Mr. Potter! Control your language!” McGonagall snapped.
Harry just rolled his eyes, thinking about the problem this presented. “I gather Snape was the
one who continued to make certain potions,” he said bitterly.
There were a lot of gasps as Harry dared to say Snape’s name. He wondered if it was going to
be as bad as saying Voldemort’s name. Pushing that thought out of his head, he focused again
on potions.
“I’m not exactly sure what our solution is,” McGonagall was saying. “Potion making is not a
talent held by all. I believe we could purchase some of the more difficult-to-brew potions.”
“It can be difficult to find high quality potions on the market, and if you can find them, they
are very expensive,” Remus said quietly.
Harry stared at Remus, comprehension dawning on him. “You haven’t had your Wolfsbane.”
Remus simply shook his head.
Harry wanted to curse and scream that it bloody wasn’t fair. He knew where the Potions
Master was and knew he was still on the Light side.
His eyes slowly widened. He supposedly didn’t have access to the Potions Master, but he did
have access to the Potions Master’s notes. He could fake his way through an entire year of
Potions and brew them better than even Hermione. He could use it as a cover to fake his way
through this now—with a little help from the Potions Master himself if he was lucky. Plus, he
had access to Draco as well.
Harry glanced down the table and met Hermione’s gaze. She was glaring at him and he
realized that she understood at least part of what he was thinking.
“No, Harry,” she said. “It’s dangerous.”
“It is not!” Harry retorted.
The discussion that had continued amongst the adults while Harry’s thoughts turned inward,
now halted as they listened to Harry and Hermione.
“How can you say that?” Hermione snapped angrily.
“Because it could help,” Harry said. “And we need all the help we can get.”
“Not from him,” she said, sounding even more furious.
“Hermione, it’s a book,” Harry said evenly. “No more, no less.”
“You know that’s not true,” Hermione said, pursing her lips.
Harry was growing impatient with this conversation fast, especially since they’d been having
this argument for months. “This isn’t about grades this time, Hermione. This is about being
able to help save people’s lives.”
“Exactly,” she snapped, acting like Harry had proved her point for her. “And we’re not going
to risk any lives that way.”
“I can’t believe you’d even suggest it!” Ron yelled, looking both angry and confused as he
found his voice.
“It’s just a bloody book!” Harry shouted.
“It’s not and you know it, Harry!” Hermione’s voice rising as well.
“Enough!” McGonagall interjected into the fray. She turned her piercing gaze on Harry.
“What is this about, Mr. Potter?”
“I have a way that I could probably get some of the potions that Madam Pomfrey will be
needing,” Harry said, his voice firm but much calmer.
“But it’s dangerous!” Hermione said. “It was Snape’s book.”
Harry shot her a dangerous glare, evil thoughts about tattle-tales going through his head.
“Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said in a warning tone.
Harry sighed heavily and briefly explained the book, mainly just mentioning the fact that it
had Snape’s extra notes about the different potions within.
He wasn’t pleased when Hermione quickly pointed out that it also had dangerous spells that
Harry had been learning from it, but at least she didn’t mention the one Harry had actually
used on Draco.
McGonagall looked grim as she mulled over everything that had been said. “Professor Snape
knew his potions,” she said finally. “Harry, do you believe you could successfully brew some
of the potions Madam Pomfrey will need?”
“Yes,” Harry said quickly, thankful some of the healing potions had been on the curriculum
for sixth year. “And what I can’t brew, I will find and buy,” he added.
“That is not necessary, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said stiffly. “In this instance, it is the Order’s
responsibility, or that of Hogwarts.”
“I am a part of the Order,” Harry said firmly. “I’ve also got the means to brew or purchase the
potions needed.” He didn’t dare look over at Hermione and Ron, knowing that neither would
be happy with him.
“This should not be your responsibility,” Professor McGonagall said, not looking happy with
the situation either.
Harry shrugged. “It’s got to be somebody’s and I’m somebody that can do something about
it.”
She studied him for several long moments before she sighed heavily. It was a reaction Harry
was getting used to. “Very well, then,” she said.
“Um, I’ll need to stop by Hogwarts,” Harry said.
She gave him another sharp look. “I don’t think I want to know.”
Harry finally grinned. “No, I don’t think you do.”
McGonagall smiled slightly in return. “Hogwarts is always open,” she said, rising to leave. “I
expect I will see you tomorrow.”
Harry nodded, but her words had given him new questions. He didn’t voice them as she
walked away, though. He was curious as to how Hogwarts was protected when everyone was
obviously away. He figured Filch and Mrs. Norris were likely the only ones who had actually
been there that afternoon, but maybe there were a few others. The wards probably were a big
protection, even without anyone around, he figured.
The bigger question, was whether anyone had decided if Hogwarts would be open the next
year, and Harry wasn’t sure if he actually wanted to know the answer or not yet. If Hogwarts
wasn’t going to be open, then he would have a different set of problems to deal with, and at
the moment, he didn’t have the will to think about it.
All of the adults disappeared and Harry was left with his friends moving to sit closer to him.
He knew he was about to be pelted with questions and wasn’t looking forward to it.
*****
Chapter Eight
Chapter Notes

Chapter Eight
“Harry, why are you acting so different?” Ron burst out suddenly.
Harry startled at the question. Of all the questions he’d expected to be asked, that wasn’t one
of them. “What do you mean?” he asked warily. “I’m not different.”
“Yes, you are!” Ron exclaimed.
“You’re just imagining things, Ron,” Harry said dismissively.
Ron turned pleadingly to Hermione for help, and she took up the challenge. “Harry,” she said
slowly. “You just called an Order meeting, ran said meeting, laid out the basics for the
counter-attack tonight, and you stood your ground with both Lupin and Mrs. Weasley. This is
not to mention you standing up to Professor McGonagall, not just once, but probably twice,”
she said knowingly.
Harry briefly considered the short, private chat he’d had with McGonagall before the Order
meeting, and realized Hermione had known about it, if not what was actually said. She’d seen
McGonagall come away from that talk and hand over control of the Order meeting to Harry.
Before Harry could figure out how to respond, Ron was speaking again. “And you
volunteered to make potions!” he shouted, making it sound as if it was the most horrific thing
Harry had ever done in his life.
Harry snorted in wry amusement. “Madam Pomfrey said she would need the potions, and like
I said, I have a way to help. As for the meeting, it may have looked like I was taking charge,
but it was only with McGonagall’s permission. The only reason anybody listened was
because Fawkes made his sudden appearance, and then I was lucky enough to have
Hermione’s help to deflect attention.”
He gave her a huge grin. “By the way, that was bloody brilliant!”
Hermione was unable to resist grinning in return. “I thought it was quite good myself,” she
said primly.
Ron and Ginny laughed, and they all relaxed a little. If Harry had hoped it would help deflect
attention, though, he was wrong.
“I think what my idiot brother was trying to say,” Ginny said with a pointed glance at Ron,
“is that we didn’t quite expect to see you so take charge and in control. Help or not, you came
here today with a plan and nothing was going to stop you. Even the adults . . . even Mum . . .
seemed to respect that,” she said in awe.
“We’re used to you in a crisis, but this was all a bit more . . . involved,” Hermione said,
floundering a little for an appropriate word. “When we last saw you, you were extremely
angry and grieving. We didn’t expect to see you so . . . calm, especially considering the
circumstances.”
Harry shrugged carelessly, gazing at his friends. Hermione looked like she thought Harry was
going to explode just from what she’d said. He supposed that he might have in the past.
“There are things that needed to be done. We don’t have time to sit around grieving. It’s not
to say I’m not angry. I’m furious that we have to deal with any of this, but it has to be done.
I’m scared as all fuck that people will get hurt tonight,” he admitted quietly.
It wasn’t going to do for him to admit that he was also scared about Malfoy and Snape
getting hurt, too. He was still struggling admitting that to himself and he had a clue as to what
was going on.
“We know you’re scared as well,” Hermione said softly. “But something’s changed you over
the last month.”
“I thought you were determined before, but this new you is amazing,” Ginny said.
Harry shook his head in exasperation. “I haven’t changed all that much,” he protested. “All
three of you know I’ve been determined all along – especially since Dumbledore’s death – to
win this war, whatever it takes.”
“You didn’t sound so grown up about it before, though,” Hermione said knowingly but sadly.
“I reckon I just didn’t quite realize how much Dumbledore’s death would affect you.”
Harry thought about that. He didn’t exactly feel any more grown up than before. He just felt
like he was taking his responsibilities more seriously. Is that what made him grown up, he
wondered.
In the past, Dumbledore had always been there. He’d been there to take the lead. He’d been
there to protect and guide. He’d been a tremendous safety net for Harry.
Harry didn’t want to try to take Dumbledore’s place and he’d meant every word he’d said to
the Order. He wasn’t trying to take his place, but he was admittedly taking on some of the
tasks that Dumbledore had been trying to complete. This included everything from calling an
Order meeting in an emergency to trying to help Malfoy and bring him over to the right side.
He frowned, trying to figure out if he was taking on more responsibilities that he should be.
Were there people better suited than him to take on Dumbledore’s unfinished tasks? It wasn’t
like he was actually trying to do it all himself.
For the meeting, he’d been helped by numerous people—and a phoenix. Snape, McGonagall,
Hermione, and Remus had all helped in one way or another.
He probably sounded a bit odd regarding the potions, but that was because no one knew
about Snape. He was hoping like crazy that Snape would actually help him in that regard,
realizing there was no guarantee the man would be willing, but he’d also been right that he
had the monetary resources to help if need be.
Regarding Snape, Harry sure didn’t have much control there. Snape was the one in charge. It
had required a lot of searching through known facts and trying to sort through his own
emotions, but they’d come to some kind of understanding. Harry had to give credit to
Dumbledore himself for helping with that.
Regarding Malfoy, Harry realized that he still didn’t have a clue as to what was really going
on there. Dumbledore had made the initial effort to coax Malfoy to the other side, but Harry
knew there was a lot more going on there. Most, but not all, was centred on a small child
called Victoria.
Yes, Harry was dealing with certain things that Dumbledore would have been if he were
alive, but it wasn’t like Harry was fulfilling the roles in exactly the same way. Harry felt like
he was still floundering, and it was taking everything he had to stay afloat.
“Harry!”
“What?” Harry asked, startled out of his thoughts.
“Well, at least some things haven’t changed,” Ron grumbled.
“You were lost in thought again,” Ginny stated the obvious with a huge grin.
Harry gave her a slight smile before facing Hermione. “I’ve got a lot on my mind and a lot to
do. And I plan on succeeding. If trying to deal with all these responsibilities makes me grown
up, then I reckon you’re right,” he said.
“You don’t have to do it alone,” Hermione said sternly.
Harry shrugged. “I’m not doing it alone. Oddly enough, I think I’ve got more support for
getting things done than I ever have before.” He gestured to the length of joined tables. “I
believe I’ve even got the entire Order behind me.”
Hermione blinked in the sudden realization that he was right. He wasn’t about to tell her
about Snape, Malfoy and Winky who were also helping him. Of course, Malfoy came with
his own set of problems, but Harry wasn’t about to mention that, either.
“I’ve also still got you three,” Harry said quietly. He glanced at Fawkes who still sat on the
perch beside him. “It seems I have Fawkes as well,” he said bemusedly.
“Phoenixes choose their owner,” Hermione said excitedly. “But I think Dumbledore likely
had a big influence. Either way, it would appear that Fawkes has chosen you to be his owner
now.
“Um, does this mean he’ll be living with me?” Harry asked curiously.
Fawkes trilled a couple notes, which seemed to be an affirmative answer.
Hermione was beaming while Ron and Ginny stared on in wonder. “I believe so,” Hermione
said happily.
Harry sighed. It was great, he reckoned, but it meant he also needed to figure out how to care
for a phoenix. He hoped Fawkes was as easy as Hedwig, because she pretty much took care
of herself. His main job in terms of care was to give her some love and attention now and
then.
“Hermione?” Harry questioned. He didn’t even have to ask before she was already
answering.
“I’ll get right on it,” she said briskly. “I’ll find out everything you need to know about
phoenixes, so that you’ll be able to care for him properly.”
“Plus everything you don’t need to know,” Ron muttered, receiving an elbow in the ribs from
Hermione.
“This is quite an honour,” Hermione said.
“It is,” Harry said softly in agreement, reaching up to stroke Fawkes’ feathers and feeling
closer to Dumbledore than he had since the man’s death.
“Come on, Ron,” Hermione said suddenly, standing up and dragging Ron up with her. “You
can help me see what I can find about phoenixes in the books I’ve got here.”
“Why do I want to do that?” Ron asked incredulously.
“Because Harry needs to know,” Hermione said impatiently, tugging on his arm and getting
him to follow her.
Harry watched them walk away and listened to their continued bickering in bemusement.
There was a soft sigh behind him, and he turned to face Ginny.
“I believe Hermione was giving us a chance to be alone,” Ginny said.
“Oh,” Harry said, looking at Ginny warily.
Ginny rolled her eyes. “I know we’re not together anymore and they know it as well. They
just seem to be a little more hopeful that we’ll be a couple again.”
“Ginny,” Harry said, before stopping. What was he supposed to say, he wondered. He didn’t
actually want to get back together with her, but he didn’t want to hurt her, either.
“It’s all right, Harry,” she said gently. “I understand, even if they don’t, that it’s not just
because of Dumbledore’s death, the war, and you needing to focus on all of that.”
“It’s not?” Harry asked stupidly.
Ginny chuckled. “Oh Harry, you know as well as I do that we weren’t really as suited to each
other as we thought we’d be.”
Well, that was true enough, Harry thought. Their relationship hadn’t been quite what he’d
expected it to be. It was nice enough, but he’d never truly been comfortable. Rather, he’d
discovered that he was far more comfortable with her in a sister role than a girlfriend role. He
just hadn’t realized that Ginny had come to the same conclusions.
He continued to stare at her blankly and she chuckled again, laughing at him. “Harry, I know
you didn’t want to hurt my feelings, and I’m sure you honestly believed it was because of the
war at the time you broke up with me. You don’t see Ron and Hermione breaking up because
of the war, though, do you?” she questioned.
Harry’s brow furrowed as he frowned. “Well, no, but they don’t actually have the same
responsibility, either.”
“True,” she conceded. “However, if we’d actually been as in love as Ron and Hermione are,
you would have done anything to stay together and make it work despite the circumstances.
When something is important to you, you put your all into it.”
“You’re important to me!” Harry protested. “I’d do anything I could to protect you!”
Ginny smiled. “Glad to hear that,” she said, confusing Harry more. She took his hand and
squeezed it gently. “Harry, I used to have a tremendous crush on you. Even after I started
dating, I still had a bit of a crush on you and I jumped at the chance of finally getting to be
with you. Once I got there, though, I had a good time with you, but I slowly figured out that
you’d become much more like one of my big brothers, rather than a boyfriend.”
“Are you trying to say I’m a bad boyfriend?” he asked, sounding a little defensive.
“No,” she said, with a wide grin. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. Amongst other qualities,
you’re quite an excellent kisser . . . and more,” she said slyly.
“Shut it,” Harry hissed, glancing around them nervously. “I don’t need every one of your
bloody brothers after me, let alone your mum.” He scowled at Ginny as she started laughing
again.
“That’s one of the things that makes you a good boyfriend,” she said.
“What?” Harry asked, confused yet again.
“You show respect,” Ginny answered. “I know very well how boys like to brag. You know
my brothers, though, and you’ve respected that I don’t want the hassle of them knowing
things like that.”
“It’s not respect, it’s fear,” Harry said flatly.
She grinned widely. “You, Harry Potter, are not the least bit afraid of my brothers.”
“Am, too,” Harry pouted.
Ginny went on as if she hadn’t heard him. “It’s just too bad I’m not the one for you,” she
mused. “It’s tough to find someone who is willing to take on all my brothers.”
“Was I good for anything else?” Harry asked sarcastically.
“Sure, you were good for the sex,” Ginny said cheekily.
Harry couldn’t decide whether to groan or laugh. “I do like you, you know,” he retorted.
Ginny’s gentle smile returned. “Yeah, I know, and I like you, too. It’s just not anything more
than that, for either one of us. We’re just better as friends. I think we were both trying to
make something work between us because we thought there should be something between
us.”
“Yeah,” Harry said softly in agreement, understanding what she meant.
“Joking aside, the sex was good, but it wasn’t spectacular anyway,” Ginny said blithely.
Slack-jawed, Harry stared at her incredulously. “Excuse me, but you’re the one who’s been
talking about how good it was, and now you’re going to accuse me of . . . of . . .,” he trailed
off, trying to figure out exactly what it was she was accusing him of. He just knew it didn’t
sound good.
“Oh, come on, Harry, it was all fun and good and relaxing, but there wasn’t really any
amazing spark between us,” Ginny said.
Staring at her, Harry realized that she had far more experience than he did. He’d known that
since long before they’d started going together. Hell, she’d been the one to introduce him to
everything he did know about sex. He just hadn’t known that he’d been on some comparison
scale and came up lacking.
“I’m sorry for not being good enough for you,” he said stiffly.
Ginny finally seemed to realize how Harry was taking what she was saying. “I’m not
insulting you,” she said, sounding more affectionate than irritated. “It’s not like I’ve been
with a ton of boys, but I know that there isn’t that something extra between us. We were more
experimenting and learning.”
Harry was frowning again. He didn’t think he’d ever understand all this relationship stuff.
“I didn’t say we weren’t good together,” Ginny said. “I just don’t think we’re right together.”
Thinking about it, Harry realized that was pretty much the conclusion he’d come to, but he’d
obviously come to the same point in a far different manner than Ginny had. He still felt a
little insulted, but then he got to thinking about the fact that if he saw her as his sister, then
sex probably shouldn’t be the best with her. He simply didn’t have any other experience to
compare it to.
“There’s something a little odd about our relationship, isn’t there?” Harry said.
Ginny relaxed and laughed again. “Yes. I don’t think about how good the snogging is with
my other brothers.” Her words hit her and they both shuddered. “There was something
horribly wrong with that statement,” she muttered.
“Friends,” Harry said firmly.
“Friends,” Ginny agreed.
“So, who can we set you up with?” she asked, grinning mischievously. “I know an awful lot
of girls who would love to go out with you.”
Harry groaned, not wanting to be set up with anyone. He had enough to handle with Draco at
the moment. He couldn’t imagine trying to sort out a romantic relationship with some girl
while everything else was going on.
It wasn’t long after their talk, that Ginny was called into the house to help Mrs. Weasley
finish up dinner. Alone for a few minutes, finally, Harry laid his head on the table. It had
already been a long day, and it was far from over yet. So much had happened, and he wasn’t
getting much time to process any of it.
Upon a little more reflection, Harry decided maybe he didn’t want the time to process
everything right now. There was too much going on and he didn’t bloody understand half of
it, but he’d keep going forward. Things still needed to get done.
Everyone was tense during the meal. Mrs. Weasley was still not happy with any of them
being involved in any way. She continued to dart irritated looks in Harry’s direction,
alternated with looks of worry. To everyone at the table she was darting fearful looks, which
was making everyone even more uncomfortable.
No one was looking forward to the events later that night and the tension was high. By the
end of the meal, Harry was feeling extremely uncomfortable. Coming to a decision after the
table had been cleared again, Harry grabbed up his rucksack.
“I’ve got some things to take care of, but I’ll be back before dark,” he declared to the group
in general and disappeared with a pop before anyone could argue with him.
Taking a chance, Harry Apparated to Grimmauld Place first. If Snape had found out any
additional information, he may have left a note or something for Harry. Malfoy knew the
information, and Harry figured he likely would’ve shared it with Snape once they were both
back at the Manor. He stepped into the house and made his way to the kitchen and was
surprised to actually find Snape there.
“Potter,” Snape said coolly. “I have more information for you.”
Harry simply nodded expectantly in response. He listened intently as Snape filled him in on
what Malfoy had already told him. The only thing it affected in the plans that had already
been generated with the Order was that the lookouts weren’t needed in the other towns. Harry
wasn’t going to bother telling his friends or anyone else that, though.
“Potter, why are you here at the moment?” Snape asked suspiciously.
“Well, um,” Harry said nervously. He really didn’t feel like getting Snape all worked up
again.
“Spit it out, Potter,” Snape said.
“Madam Pomfrey is fine on potions for tonight, but will likely be running low shortly on
several of them,” Harry said in a rush.
“And what am I to do about that?” Snape asked, brow arched.
“You could help,” Harry said irritably.
“Potter, they will not trust potions brewed by a Death Eater,” Snape sneered angrily.
“No, but McGonagall trusts your knowledge,” Harry mumbled.
“Potter, what are you suggesting?” Snape said coldly.
Harry groaned inwardly. When he’d volunteered, he hadn’t thought about how hard it would
be to bring this up to Snape, let alone convince him to help.
“I told McGonagall I would make any of the potions that are taught in sixth year,” Harry
admitted. “And I told her I’d find and purchase any of the others.”
“And she went along with this?” Snape asked incredulously.
“Yes,” Harry said. “I, um, had to explain to her about the book. Hermione was arguing with
me about it again,” he muttered.
“You were arguing with Ms. Granger, about my book, and then described the book to
McGonagall,” Snape repeated flatly.
Harry winced. “Yes.”
“After describing the book with all my notes, McGonagall agreed to put you, notorious for
failing miserably in potions, in charge of brewing and supplying the hospital wing and the
Order with all necessary potions,” Snape continued in that same flat tone that Harry
considered to be very dangerous.
“Yes,” Harry answered again.
“And you think you can successfully brew the potions,” Snape said.
“I can do the potions from this last year,” Harry said. “With the book,” he admitted quietly.
Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes shut, and Harry was unsure of what to expect. He
was positive there should have been an explosion by now, and figured there was likely to be
one still.
When Snape remained silent, Harry nervously continued, knowing he was likely damning
himself, but seemingly unable to stop. “I’ve always had trouble learning potions from you,
and we both know that, but I was able to follow the directions of the Half-Blood Prince. I
learned a lot this year,” he said, not realizing how earnest he was sounding. “I’m positive I
can brew those potions, at least, even though I’m still not that great at potions in general. I’m
sure you hate it, but I don’t even have to understand it to be able to follow those directions.
Right now, I couldn’t give a fuck about my NEWTs, which I’m not even sure I’ll be able to
take. What I care about is being able to get potions to Madam Pomfrey who will need them.”
Harry sucked in a breath before continuing, as Snape was still standing there with eyes closed
and pinching the bridge of his nose in silence. “When I talked to Professor McGonagall, I had
hoped that you would help with the other potions that Madam Pomfrey needs. I could just
pass them off as ones that I’d bought. I mean, I’ll have to buy the ingredients at least. And
actually, I reckon I could actually pay you for making them,” he said, brow furrowing as he
realized that Snape wouldn’t actually be getting any compensation for his work and his time
like he surely must have at Hogwarts. Snape wasn’t likely to do things with nothing in return.
He wasn’t the do-it-out-of-the-goodness-of-his-heart type.
Harry shook his head and continued. “I just know you’re the best and the Order could really
use your help. If you’d rather, I can brew them myself, but even then I couldn’t do it without
your help. I, um, well, I’d have to have your notes. And I reckon even then I’d have to go to
Hermione to help me, because she actually understands potions. But if they weren’t too hard,
then I could probably do it, because I’m not so sure she’d help me anyway. She hates the
Half-Blood Prince because he’s been corrupting me all year. I don’t know how many times
we’ve argued over it.”
Harry realized that he was continuing to ramble his thoughts as he was thinking through
some of the many different complications with this not-well thought-out plan of his, but he
couldn’t seem to stop. He’d never volunteered this much information to Snape, but this was
extremely important.
“Look, I probably owe you an apology for using your book all year. I had no idea it was
yours. And I know I owe you an apology for not giving it back when you asked for it,” he
admitted. “I panicked. That book was like one of my best friends and I didn’t want to give it
to you.”
Snape finally opened his eyes and looked at Harry in surprise, but he still didn’t comment.
Harry found it much more difficult to speak now that Snape was actually looking at him
again. He stared at the man, finally feeling horrified that he’d revealed so much.
“So eloquent,” Snape sneered. “Do you ramble always so much information off to others?”
he asked coolly.
Harry winced. “No,” he muttered. “But I wasn’t actually giving you any information that
would hurt anyone—besides myself.”
“Indeed,” Snape smirked, sounding amused.
“I just need your help,” Harry said. “Rather, the Order needs your help. I just seem to be the
only means to pass on that help.”
“How did the Order meeting go?” Snape asked. “I presume since you haven’t said anything
that you were able to persuade them well enough and set things in motion for the counter-
attack tonight.”
“Yes,” Harry said wearily. “And it seems I used up any eloquence I might have had at the
meeting since I’ve lost it again now.”
Harry explained the events from the Order meeting, including Fawkes’ appearance. He was
much more careful to make sure he left out the part about already focusing on the one town.
He knew how to keep secrets and he had no idea what had possessed him to ramble like that.
Snape cast him an odd look when Harry was finished. “Indeed, it sounds like you were much
more successful with your speech earlier.”
Harry sighed. “It’s just been a long day. I think, oddly enough, my brain seems to know I
don’t have to keep my guard up quite as much with you.” He rubbed his temples, trying to
stave off the headache that kept threatening. “There’s just been one thing after another today,
and the day is nowhere near over. I had to get away from Mrs. Weasley for a bit, though, so I
decided to stop here and leave you a note, then I was going to run to Hogwarts to get the
potions book.”
“It’s still at Hogwarts?” Snape asked, tone sharp.
“Um, yeah,” Harry answered. “It’s still where I hid it when you wanted me to bring it to
you,” he admitted.
“I see,” Snape said.

Harry wondered what the hell the man was seeing. He knew that he himself was acting a bit
oddly around Snape, but then Snape was also acting oddly around him. He wondered if they
were just too tired to keep fighting when they had so many other battles they had to deal
with.
Snape had sat down and seemed to be lost in thought. Not sure what else to do, Harry set
about making some tea. Snape didn’t say anything when Harry set a cup of tea in front of
him, but he did pick it up and drink. Harry sat down, unwilling to break the silence since
Snape had been fairly amicable.
“Potter, you have means for accessing the castle and manoeuvring within, without being
detected,” Snape said finally.
Harry looked at him warily. That hadn’t been a question, but if it had been, they both knew
the answer. “Yes,” he answered anyway.
Snape’s face was that expressionless mask that Harry didn’t particularly like, but it was better
than the furious anger that often graced his features when he was looking at Harry. Harry had
no idea what was going through the man’s mind. Not that he ever did, he thought wryly.
“You will meet me at the Shrieking Shack at two o’clock sharp tonight,” Snape said.
Harry stared at him incredulously. “You’re going to sneak into Hogwarts with me—tonight?”
“I need access to my rooms,” Snape sneered, eyes narrowed. “I doubt that McGonagall has
had the time or the will to attempt to break my wards. She will likely be busy tonight after
this battle.”
“Yeah, with the victims you’re going to help send to the bloody hospital wing!” Harry
exclaimed.
“Precisely,” Snape said sharply, throwing Harry’s thoughts off-kilter.
“That’s a good thing?” Harry asked in confusion.
“There will likely be many more in attendance at the castle tonight and McGonagall will be
distracted. She will be less likely to notice any other visitors to the castle,” Snape said
smoothly. “Therefore, we go tonight.”
Harry swallowed heavily, unable to believe what he was hearing. “I . . . I . . .,” he tried to
speak, but couldn’t seem to come up with any words.
“Yes, you will be helping Severus Snape, evil Death Eater, back into Hogwarts for the first
time since he killed Albus Dumbledore, leader of the Light,” Snape said coldly.
“Oh gods,” Harry moaned. “That’s exactly how everyone else would see it.”
Snape’s eyes widened marginally. “And you do not?”
“No,” Harry said slowly, meeting Snape’s gaze. “This is all just a little fucked up.”
Snape’s lips curled into a smirk, appearing amused rather than mocking. “Language, Potter,”
he said evenly.
Harry’s eyes widened incredulously. Snape was going to worry about his language? Blinking,
he realized that was all Snape was commenting on. “Well, this is fucked up,” he retorted.
“Indeed,” Snape said in acknowledgement.
Harry laughed a little, trying to ignore the fact that it came out sounding slightly hysterical.
“Two o’clock?” he said to verify.
Snape gave him a curt nod. “The battle will certainly take place before midnight.”
Harry closed his eyes at the reminder that they still had a battle to face first. He pushed those
thoughts aside for the moment, and thought again about sneaking him and Snape into
Hogwarts. “We should meet closer to Honeydukes,” he said.
“Why?” Snape asked sharply.
“Because we want to get into Hogwarts, not just on the grounds,” Harry answered, cringing
inwardly and sending a mental apology to the Marauders.
“This should prove to be an informative night,” Snape said.
Harry dropped his head into his hands and tried to remind himself that his secrets were a
small price to pay for the healing potions that people would need.
*****
Apparating back to the Weasley’s yard about forty-five minutes before sunset, he was
instantly spotted by everyone there. It seemed most of the Order members had already
returned.
“Harry!” Hermione shouted, running up to meet him and looking him over critically.
“Where’d you go, mate?” Ron asked worriedly.
“I had things to do,” Harry said, striding over to the table, leaving them staring after him with
hurt expressions.
“Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said sternly, rising from her seat and meeting him halfway. “Would
you care to explain where you have been this evening?”
“No,” Harry answered.
She blinked at him in surprise. Harry thought it was pretty clear that she hadn’t expected him
to defy her by not answering.
“Mr. Potter,” she said warningly.

“Professor McGonagall,” he said politely.
Her lips thinned dangerously, and Harry realized that it wasn’t that long ago that he would
have been terribly worried about his fate when she looked at him that way. Now, he had far
bigger dangers to deal with.
He’d mentally prepared himself before returning, and had resolutely declared to himself that
he was going to be calm, firm, and ready to do what was necessary to prepare himself and
everyone else for this battle. He was determined to be strong and not weak in any way.
Disconcertingly, he’d wondered if Snape, and especially Draco, went through the same kind
of mental process to face the rest of the world.
“Mr. Potter, there are many who are concerned about you, particularly when you see fit to
take off to unexplained destinations on your own,” McGonagall said.
“I appreciate the concern, ma’am, but there are things that I must do,” Harry said evenly.
“Not alone,” she said sharply.
Harry’s expression hardened. “Dumbledore left me with certain tasks that I need to take care
of. He did not see fit to inform you of them while he was alive; I do not see fit to inform you
of them after his death. I will respect his judgment of what must be kept secret for the time
being, and I expect the same from you,” he said firmly.
McGonagall’s narrowed eyes stared at him for several long moments. “Very well, then,” she
said, giving him a curt nod. She turned sharply on her heel and walked briskly over to the
table to resume her seat.
Harry finally took notice of all the others gathered in the Weasley’s backyard. Some were
staring at him with disapproval, some with acceptance, and some with awe. Glancing back at
his friends, their gobsmacked expressions made him want to laugh at the same time that they
made him realize just how significant his conversation with McGonagall was.
Striding to the table with an air of confidence that was only half forced, he sat in the chair at
the head of the table again. The table remained quiet as everybody stared at him. He wasn’t
sure what they were expecting from him, though. He glanced at McGonagall questioningly.
“I believe, Mr. Potter, that you should perhaps say a few words about this evening’s task,” she
said sternly.
Why me, he wondered, but didn’t ask it out loud. Surely there had to be someone better
suited to give a pep talk. This wasn’t remotely like being the Quidditch captain and giving the
pep talk before a game.
Remus leaned over to whisper in his ear. “It’s not about age, knowledge or experience. They
are looking to you for hope, Harry.”
Staring blankly at Remus, who offered him a sad smile, Harry finally began to understand a
little better what Scrimgeour had wanted. But whereas Scrimgeour was mainly looking for
that hopeful icon for the masses, the Order members were about to go out and risk their lives,
based on information that Harry had given them.
Harry felt that weight settle more firmly on his shoulders, but he straightened them regardless
and stood to address the group. First he looked to Moody. “How long do we have?”
“Thirty minutes,” Moody said gruffly.
Harry nodded. “All right, then.” He took a deep breath. “We don’t have long before everyone
will need to take up their positions. I can’t say for sure, but I believe that the attack will
happen sometime before midnight, and probably not long after full dark sets in.”
He thought about his Quidditch speeches. “No matter how long the wait might be, keep to
your positions, and don’t let your attention waver. Each person’s role tonight is very
important. We have the element of surprise and we will use it to our advantage. The Death
Eaters don’t know what our strategies are. The tactics we’ve chosen to use will help us win.”
Ron was frowning at him, and Harry realized that Ron probably knew it sounded familiar but
couldn’t recognize why. Ginny was trying to hide her grin behind her hand.
Harry smiled, startling several people, considering the gravity of the situation. “This is a
battle and, yes, this is extremely serious with lives at stake, but I have great confidence that
we will win. And we’ll win, because we can work together to make it happen for us.”
He paused for a thoughtful moment before speaking again. “It was suggested this afternoon
that we would be going over the battle strategies one more time tonight. I don’t think we
will.”
Moody spoke up immediately. “It’s necessary,” he growled.
“No,” Harry said, shaking his head at Moody. “Everything was gone over quite thoroughly
this afternoon. The matter is too serious for anyone to have forgotten in just a few short
hours. The only purpose it would serve is to make everyone even more nervous than they
already are.” He addressed the group as a whole again. “We’ve done our planning, and now
it’s time for action.”
“This is a little unorthodox, Potter,” McGonagall declared.
Harry shrugged. “Probably, but I’m confident we’re as ready as we can be for this. This is not
a time to second guess our strategies. This is the time when we go out there and get the job
done.” He didn’t dare look over towards Ron and Ginny. Surely even Ron had figured out by
now where he’d heard Harry say half this before.
In fact, McGonagall was now giving Harry a suspicious look. “It is beneficial that the Order
members are used to working together as a team, isn’t it, Potter?” she said.
“It is,” he answered simply, grinning widely and knowing she’d finally caught on to his
modified Quidditch speech.
Her lips twitched in amusement, but she nodded her acceptance. Harry turned back to face
the others. “Are we ready to do this, then?”
He received a lot of nods and even a few smiles. “Then let’s get going.”
Harry went to retrieve his Invisibility Cloak, but Remus stopped him and folded him in a
tight hug. “You be careful out there,” Remus whispered.
“You, too,” Harry said, his voice muffled in Remus’ chest.
Remus let him go with a worried smile, not making any further comment.
Ron, Ginny and Hermione caught up to him. “I’m suddenly very glad McLaggen isn’t in the
Order,” Ginny said with a wide grin.
Ron’s grin was just as broad. “I do love Quidditch,” he said cheerfully.
Harry shrugged, but smiled in return. “I couldn’t think of anything else.”
Hermione was giving all three of them an odd look. “Why are you talking about Quidditch
now?” she asked.
“Life lessons,” Harry said flippantly.
“Harry,” Hermione said warningly.
“I’ll explain it to you when we go,” Ron said, his tone indicating he was happy that he had
something to explain to Hermione for a change.
Hermione didn’t look overly pleased, but Harry was grateful for the bit of levity as they left
to take up their posts.
*****
Chapter Nine
Chapter Notes

Chapter Nine
Harry Apparated to the small town where the Death Eaters were supposed to attack. He lost
any bit of tiredness he’d been feeling as his body geared up to fight, and he had to remind
himself that he wasn’t supposed to be fighting this time unless absolutely necessary. Plenty of
people didn’t even want him there at all.
He looked around him at the town. It was small enough that Voldemort seemed to believe that
with forty Death Eaters he could wipe out the entire town. Harry knew that twenty masked
Death Eaters were going to be popping into existence at either end of the town sometime
soon.
They wouldn’t be able to enter any of the buildings now, though. McGonagall had taken a
group to the town earlier and the team had spent a few hours casting wards surreptitiously
that would refuse entrance to the Death Eaters. Harry didn’t understand the wards at all, but
he was pretty sure it was something similar to the Dursley’s house that wouldn’t allow
anyone with the Dark Mark to enter the property.
While many in the Order had been at this last meeting, a group had been going through the
town and “encouraging” any stragglers to go to their homes. Harry knew the Order wasn’t
using Imperius, but they were modifying memories if need be. He remembered the Ministry
official altering Mr. Roberts’ memory at the Quidditch World Cup. The team would have no
qualms about doing what they could as long as it didn’t permanently harm the Muggles and it
helped to protect them.
Now, the town was quiet. Too quiet. Considering that Voldemort was trying to wipe this town
out of existence, it was downright creepy seeing it with no signs of life at the moment. Harry
knew the people were there, but it still didn’t feel right.
With nothing to do but wait, Harry let his thoughts wander. He was anxious, and he knew it
wasn’t just because of the members of the Order. The Weasleys, Tonks, Remus, McGonagall
—he was anxious about all of them. He knew that people were likely to get hurt.
Half of his anxiety seemed to centre around Draco and Snape, though. There was something
extremely strange to be worried about them, but he was feeling it regardless. Well, he wasn’t
overly concerned about Snape, but he was very nervous for Draco.
One wrong move and Draco could bring down the wrath of both sides down upon his head.
Under the protection of his Invisibility Cloak, Harry stepped out from his hiding spot and
looked to both ends of the main street. He didn’t know which direction Draco would be
coming from. He knew the Death Eaters planned to sweep through either end of the town and
meet in the middle.
Harry himself was stationed in the middle of the town at the moment, while the majority of
the Order members were lying in wait at either end. They would attack immediately when the
Death Eaters popped into existence.
As Harry watched, that was exactly what happened. He heard the loud cracks, even from
where he was at, and almost immediately after he saw the flashes of wand light as the Order
members began their counter-attack.
After a moment of indecision, Harry ran, keeping to the shadows as much as possible in case
the Invisibility Cloak slipped as he moved. Knowing where the Order members were, he
went in the opposite direction of Moody. Moody was the only one who could locate him
while he was under the Cloak. Coming nearer to the battle, he slowed and crept closer.
Several bodies were down already, and Harry only hoped that they were stunned Death
Eaters. Duels were taking place over a wide area, and in the darkness Harry was having
trouble determining who was who.
Creeping around the outskirts of the battle, Harry spotted Remus in a duel. As he watched
closely, Remus was caught by some curse, causing him to stumble. Harry’s breath caught in
his throat, but Remus quickly recovered and shot off his own spell.
There were very few spells that Harry had mastered being able to do wordlessly, but one of
them he could do surreptitiously that wouldn’t fire a flash of light to give away his location.
Pointing his wand at the Death Eater, Harry thought Levicorpus! The Death Eater was
immediately strung up by his heels.
Remus was startled for a moment, but then quickly stunned the Death Eater, and Harry
dropped him back to the ground. He didn’t know who it was, but it wasn’t Snape or Draco.
Remus whipped his head around, unable to spot Harry, but clearly knowing it had been him.
“Get out of here!” he shouted into the darkness. Harry suddenly wished anew that he hadn’t
had to tell McGonagall about Snape’s book. Remus obviously recognized the spell.
As Remus moved to assist someone else, Harry moved on. Circling the battle, he searched,
eyes scanning constantly. It was eerie, all the curses and flashes of light lighting up the
darkness. He still couldn’t spot Draco or Snape amongst all the black-robed figures, though.
He was anxious, not wanting either to be amongst the stunned Death Eaters.
“Malfoy!”
Harry heard the angry shout and turned. He still couldn’t spot Draco, but someone obviously
had. He moved in the direction of the shout, and finally saw Draco caught up in a duel with
Charlie. Harry cursed inwardly. Charlie had damned good reason to be angry with Draco, and
Harry didn’t know what to do.
Where the hell was Snape when Draco needed him?
Suddenly, Charlie was caught by another curse and Harry darted his gaze to the side,
realizing that Snape had heard the shout, too. Unfortunately, so had others, and more people
were getting involved.
Harry watched as Draco was caught by a curse and fell. Darting forward between curses, he
fell to Draco’s side. Grabbing his arm and hoping for the best, Harry Apparated them.
He only went back to his hidden location at the centre of the town, not trusting himself to go
any further with his Apparition skills. They landed, both of them cursing, but unfortunately
Draco was struggling to get away.
“Stop fighting me,” Harry hissed. “And be quiet.”
Draco stilled. “Potter?”
Harry pulled back his cloak enough for Draco to see his face. “You were supposed to stay out
of trouble,” he snapped.
“The damned Weasley figured out who I was,” Draco said crossly. “I had no choice.”
“We don’t have time for this,” Harry said angrily. “I’ve got to get back there. I assume you’ve
got some kind of meeting spot arranged?”
Draco nodded.
“Then go,” Harry commanded. “Hopefully it looked like you Apparated out yourself. The
other Death Eaters are all Apparating out now,” he said, looking towards the battle at the end
of the town.
Draco’s eyes widened, and he disappeared with a pop. Harry shook his head and hurried
back. As he ran, he realized he hadn’t even figured out how badly Draco was injured. There
wasn’t anything he could do about it now. He needed to figure out if everyone else was all
right.
Everyone looked a little worse for wear. Harry quickly found Charlie, who was cursing Draco
angrily. Harry breathed a sigh of relief that he seemed to be okay. He didn’t think either
Draco or Snape would hurt him too severely, but then, there had also been a lot of other
Death Eaters around.
“Where’s Harry?”
Harry heard Remus’ anxious voice and slipped his cloak off as he walked over to the man.
He was quickly enveloped in a crushing hug, even as he was being berated for getting
involved at all.
“I know that was you, Harry,” Remus said sternly. “I know where that curse came from, and
not many people know it nowadays.”
“You looked like you could use some help,” Harry mumbled into Remus’ chest.
Remus’ arms tightened around him for a moment, before relaxing. “Come on, we’re going
back to Hogwarts,” Remus said quietly. “Tonks and her crew will deal with things here.”
“What about Ron and Hermione and the others?” Harry asked.
“Molly and Arthur have already gone to fetch them,” Remus answered.
With one last look around, Harry Apparated to Hogwarts, Remus right behind him. Reaching
the hospital wing, they found it in chaos. Although, upon closer inspection, it did appear to be
organized chaos. Madam Pomfrey was bustling from patient to patient and calling out
commands.
From what Harry could see, no one had been injured too severely, mostly cuts and bruises.
Harry sucked in a breath to fortify himself and made his way to the corner where all the red
heads seemed to be congregating. Madam Pomfrey had just finished seeing to Charlie before
she bustled away again.
“Are you all right?” Mrs. Weasley asked worriedly.
“I’m fine, Mum,” Charlie said, rolling his eyes. “I’m going to be sore for a bit, but I’ll be
good as new tomorrow.”
“What happened?” Ron demanded anxiously.
“I caught sight of that damned Malfoy’s hair,” Charlie spat angrily, his attitude changing
drastically from pacifying his mother just a few seconds before.
“Malfoy!” Ron said furiously, his anger immediately ignited.

Charlie nodded and went into an explanation of the duel. “We were shooting curses at each
other and I’d just landed a Cutting Curse –”
“You were shooting Cutting Curses?” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed.
“They’re Death Eaters, Mum,” Charlie said in exasperation. “What do you expect me to use
against them? Especially ones like Snape and Malfoy.”
“Snape!” Ron exclaimed angrily.
Harry wanted to roll his eyes, but refrained as Charlie nodded. He tried forcing his own face
into an angry expression, realizing that he should be as outraged as Ron. Luckily, everyone
was focused on Charlie.
“I got Malfoy down, but things got really crazy after that. I was duelling with Snape when all
of a sudden he shouted for them all to leave and he Apparated, just like that,” Charlie said,
with a snap of his fingers. “Malfoy must have Apparated, too, because he was gone.”
Harry leaned up against the wall as he listened to Charlie give a blow by blow account of the
duel. He felt like he should be feeling angry on the behalf of . . . somebody, but more than
anything he just felt relieved. And exhausted.
“Are you all right?” Hermione asked quietly, also stepping back from the Weasleys a little.
“I’m just knackered,” Harry said with a small smile.
Hermione nodded in understanding. “At least everyone seems to be mostly okay. And all of
the people who live in the town are safe.”
Harry could only stare for a moment. He’d almost forgotten about all the people that they’d
actually been working to save. He’d been so busy focusing on the Order members and two of
the Death Eaters.
“Do you know if any of the Death Eaters were actually captured?” Harry asked suddenly.
Hermione grimaced. “I overheard someone saying that a few were captured, but no one
seemed to recognize who they were. Most of them Apparated away and took their stunned
and injured with them.”
“Damn,” Harry exclaimed softly. “That means we didn’t catch any of the major players.”
“Probably not,” Hermione agreed. “So who knows how much information we’ll likely get off
of them.”
Harry dropped his chin to his chest and rubbed at his scar absently. He wasn’t overly
concerned about the information they could glean, considering he had access to two major
players, but he’d be a lot happier if they had more Death Eaters locked up and out of
commission.
Dobby suddenly appeared next to him with a loud crack. “Harry Potter, sir, Dobby has a
message.”
Glancing warily at their audience, Harry quickly grabbed Dobby and pulled him to the side.
“What is it, Dobby?” he whispered.
“Winky said Harry Potter has a guest at his home,” Dobby said anxiously. “Dobby was asked
to fetch Harry Potter and say it’s urgent.”
“Fuck!” Harry exclaimed quietly, knowing that it had to be Draco. He wondered what the hell
could have gone wrong now.
“Not a word to anyone, Dobby,” Harry commanded.
Dobby nodded, eyes wide, before he disappeared.
“Harry, what was that all about?” Hermione demanded.
“What did you hear?” Harry asked, giving her a sharp look.
Her eyes narrowed. “We didn’t hear anything, what with you practically dragging Dobby off
to the corner. Now, what was that all about?”
“I’ve got to go,” Harry said. Ignoring his friend’s anxious pleas to wait, he stalked to the
hospital wing door and took off at a run once he was in the corridor. He didn’t even have to
think much about Apparition as he automatically paused and Apparated once he reached the
main gates. He rushed into the Dursley’s house, not even trying to be quiet. Taking the steps
two at a time, he was breathing heavily by the time he finally reached his bedroom.
“What’s wrong?” he panted, trying to catch his breath. Then his eyes landed on Draco. “Fuck,
Malfoy! What the bloody hell happened?”
Draco glared at him weakly, from his position lying on Harry’s bed. “Bloody Weasley caught
me with a Cutting Curse,” he said.
“I knew that,” Harry snapped absently, moving to the bed and trying to get a closer look.
Draco had taken off his robes, but he was still wearing his shirt. “Why didn’t Snape heal you,
though? And why are you here?”
Harry started unbuttoning Draco’s shirt and pulled it aside so it was clear of the wound. He
didn’t notice the odd look Draco was giving him. He was too busy studying the injury.
“I don’t think it’s really too deep, but you’ve obviously been bleeding pretty badly,” Harry
murmured. It was a long gash along Draco’s side, but it seemed like a fairly straight cut. He
snagged Draco’s robes from the floor and pressed them against the wound, applying pressure
in hopes of stopping the bleeding.
He was wishing he knew the spell that Snape had used on Draco before. Or better yet, that
Snape had just healed Draco again this time. Harry looked up to Draco’s face, realizing the
other boy hadn’t answered him.
Draco’s face was turned away and looking awfully pale with a greyish cast to his skin.
“Malfoy, are you all right?” Harry asked worriedly.
Draco swallowed heavily. “What are you doing to me?”
Harry frowned. “I’m just applying some pressure to try to stop the bleeding. You seem to
have lost enough blood already.”
“I knew it hurt like hell, but I didn’t know it was this bad,” Draco said weakly.
“Well, it’s pretty nasty,” Harry admitted. “But I don’t think it’s really too bad. I mean, it
didn’t cut any vital organs or anything. It’s just a flesh wound.”
Draco moaned pitifully. “Potter, make it better,” he pleaded.
Harry had a brief flashback to the incident with Buckbeak, and had to wonder how much it
had really been faked. Draco seemed like a real wimp when it came to pain. He realized that
Draco refused to even look anywhere near the wound. “Why didn’t Snape heal you?” he
asked again.
“He said he had to meet with the Dark Lord, and then he had to go do something with
potions,” Draco explained. “And at the time, I didn’t realize quite how bad it was.”
Harry’s eyes darted to the clock, and he cursed inwardly. He was supposed to be meeting
Snape in thirty minutes.
Harry lifted the robes gently and checked the wound. The bleeding was slowing at least.
Putting pressure on the wound again, he looked back at Draco. “Why’d you come here?
Wouldn’t your mum have helped you?”
“She would’ve,” Draco said irritably. “But the bitch went and stopped her. Wittle Dwaco
needs to learn to take it like a man,” he said mockingly.
“Bellatrix,” Harry growled.
“Yeah, my wonderful aunt,” Draco said sarcastically. “I got into a big fight with her and
ended up storming out.”
“And came here,” Harry concluded.
“Yeah,” Draco said quietly.
Harry sighed wearily. “Malfoy, I don’t have any potions and I don’t know any damned
healing spells. Do you?”
Draco shook his head. “Can’t you do anything?” he asked.
Harry turned and his eyes searched out Winky sitting in the chair by Victoria’s cot. “Winky,
could you get me some water, towels and some bandages?” With a pop, she disappeared.
“Malfoy, hold this in place. We need to get you cleaned up. I don’t think you’re going to be
going anywhere else tonight.”
Draco nodded weakly. Harry took his hand and placed it over the bundled robes. Draco kept
his eyes closed, but he did put pressure on the wound.
Harry moved to start unlacing the boots Draco was wearing. Hesitating only briefly, he then
moved to remove Draco’s trousers.
“Potter!”
“Your trousers are soaked in blood,” Harry said evenly. “But fine, we’ll leave them for the
moment,” he said, as Winky popped back into the room. She had obviously thought ahead
because she also came back bearing fresh bedding.
Harry carefully took the bowl of water from the precarious stack and, removing the bloody
robes, he began cleaning the wound and the surrounding area.
Draco groaned and bit his lip. Glancing at him worriedly, Harry wondered if he was going to
pass out. He hadn’t been looking too healthy earlier in the day, let alone now.
“I’m going to have to bandage this the Muggle way for the time being,” Harry said.
Draco gave a slight nod of understanding, gritting his teeth.
Working quickly, Harry found some butterfly bandages in the pile Winky had brought and
pulled the wound closed as best he could after applying some healing ointment. Applying
some wider gauze bandages to cover the wound completely, he’d done all that he could for
the moment.
Checking the clock, he realized that he did not have time to spare and set about removing the
rest of Draco’s bloody clothing. Draco kept his eyes squeezed shut and Harry tried very hard
not to think too much about what he was doing as he sponged the worst of the blood away.
Winky had brought clean pyjama pants from Harry’s wardrobe. They were one of Harry’s
longer pairs, so they wouldn’t be too horribly short on Draco. Harry helped Draco to stand
and dress while Winky swiftly changed the bedding. Draco’s complexion was a waxy grey by
now, but with two high spots of colour on his cheeks.
Harry knew he was mortified by the situation, but was too weak and in too much pain to do a
damned thing about it. Draco remained completely silent throughout the entire process.
Harry helped Draco to lie back on the clean bed and pulled the blankets up. “Try to sleep for
awhile if you can,” he said quietly. “I know you’re hurting. I’d give you some Muggle pain
killers, but they aren’t nearly as effective, and I don’t know how they’ll interact with Pain-
Relieving Potions. I’m going to go try to see if I can get at least some of those for you.”
Draco stared at Harry anxiously. “You’re leaving?”

Harry nodded. “I’ve got to see if I can get the potions you need and try to come up with some
healing spells so I can heal you properly.”
“Oh,” Draco said, wincing as he tried to shift on the bed.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can and Winky will be here if you need anything.” Harry looked
over to Winky. “You did perfect to send Dobby for me before. Do it again if you need me.”
Winky nodded.
“Sleep, Malfoy,” Harry said softly.
Draco nodded and closed his eyes. Glancing at the clock, Harry realized he was going to be
late, and with a final glance at Draco, he turned to leave. He retrieved the Marauder’s Map
from his trunk and snagged his Invisibility Cloak on his way out.
He Apparated from one alleyway to another and stumbled as he landed.
“You’re late,” Snape sneered.
Harry looked up at him wearily. “I know. Sorry. I’ve been a little busy.”
Snape eyed him closely, looking him over. Harry looked down at himself and realized he was
covered in Draco’s blood. “Are you injured?” Snape asked sharply.
“Um, no,” Harry answered. “But a lot of the others had minor injuries. Thankfully nothing
too serious, though.”
“You are covered in a lot of blood,” Snape observed.
“Cutting Curse,” Harry said, giving no further details. “Let’s get this over with,” he said, not
wanting to talk about it. “I assume you can break us into Honeydukes.”
“That is necessary?” Snape asked.
“Yes,” Harry said, shrugging. “I’ve just never had to do it before. I’ve always come through
during the day when the store is open.”
“Cloak on,” Snape said curtly, before casting a Disillusionment Charm on himself.
Harry threw his cloak over himself and walked to the front door of Honeydukes. The street
appeared to be completely abandoned at this hour, but they could never be sure. He heard the
quietly muttered spells, and quickly stepped inside as soon as the door opened.
He made his way to the cellar, hearing the footsteps following him. He took his cloak off
once he was out of sight of the front windows of the store and, lighting his wand, he quickly
found the trap door in the cellar. He was grateful when Snape said nothing, following Harry
down into the tunnel that would lead them to Hogwarts.
They’d been silent for several minutes before Harry decided to try asking about the healing
spell Snape had used to heal Draco before. “Would you teach me the healing spell you used?”
he asked. “You know, the one you used to heal Malfoy when I, um, hurt him.”
Snape snorted disdainfully. “Just like you, Potter, to inflict damage you have no idea how to
repair.”
“I didn’t know what that spell would do,” Harry said defensively. “I wasn’t trying to kill
him.”
Harry kept his eyes forward, following the dim trail in his wand light, but he could feel
Snape’s eyes trying to bore through his head. “That was the first time you used that curse?”
“Yes, and the only time,” Harry answered. “I’d only read it in your book and it said it was for
enemies. That’s all I knew about it. I was suddenly in a duel with someone who was about to
cast Crucio on me, so I tried it.”
Snape was quiet for more than a minute and Harry wondered what he was thinking. “That
curse is Dark Magic, Potter. I find it disconcerting that you were able to cast the spell so
successfully, particularly the first time casting it.”
Harry’s step faltered, but he kept going. What the hell did it mean if he could cast it
successfully the first time? Snape had said at the time that it was Dark Magic, but Harry
certainly wasn’t versed in the Dark Arts. He hadn’t considered the fact that he’d been able to
cast it with no other knowledge than the name of the spell.
Harry hadn’t considered it before and he really didn’t want to think about this now, either.
“Sir, I don’t know what it means,” he said tiredly. “And to be honest, right this second, I just
don’t really care. Right now, I just need to learn some healing spells. Knowing some healing
spells would have been right useful tonight.”
Snape was quiet again and Harry wondered if the man was going to push the Dark Magic
issue. “We will talk more of this later,” Snape said finally.
Harry nodded in agreement, grateful for the reprieve.
Snape’s voice took on his professorial tone as he began explaining the spell he had used to
heal Draco back in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. Harry listened closely, needing to get this
one right. Snape taught him a couple of other healing spells as well by the time the tunnel
started rising again.
Harry paused and sent another mental apology to the Marauders as he got out the map. Snape
held his wand over it so that they could both see as Harry touched his own wand to the
parchment. Closing his eyes, Harry muttered, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”
He opened his eyes to see Snape glaring at him, but Harry dropped his gaze to the map. He
felt like he’d just given the man a huge victory and it wasn’t sitting well in his stomach.
They both watched as the castle spread out on the parchment. Looking at it closely, Harry
could see Filch and Mrs. Norris in what he assumed was their rooms. Everyone else seemed
to be ensconced in the hospital wing still.
“The corridor is clear,” Harry said softly. “All the corridors are clear at the moment,” he
added.
“Very clever,” Snape sneered.
Harry glared at him, but remained silent. They didn’t have time to argue right now. Snape
seemed to realize this, too. “Book first,” Snape said firmly.
Harry took a deep breath and pulled his cloak around him as Snape Disillusioned himself
again. Checking once more that the corridor was clear, Harry stepped out of the tunnel and
into Hogwarts. He felt Snape grip his shoulder so that he wouldn’t lose him, and Harry found
it oddly comforting rather than irritating as they slipped through the silent corridors.
He made it to the Room of Requirement and checked the map again, making sure all was
clear. “Wait here,” he hissed quietly. He took off his cloak and handed the map to Snape.
Snape watched warily as Harry began to walk.
I need to retrieve my book. . . . I need to retrieve my book. . . . I need to retrieve my book. . . .
Relieved when the door appeared, Harry opened it carefully and was further relieved when he
saw the huge room with all the objects hidden over the years. He knew Snape had followed
him into the room when the door shut.
He heard Snape lift the Disillusionment Charm as he slowly started walking the alleyways
created by all the varied items stacked about the large room.
“What the fuck?!” Harry exclaimed upon seeing the Vanishing Cabinet.
“What’s the problem, Potter?” Snape said snidely, coming up behind Harry.
“No one’s taken out this bloody Vanishing Cabinet!” Harry exclaimed, outraged. “Gods, I
could kill Malfoy for fixing this fucking thing!”
Snape stepped closer, inspecting the cabinet. “This was what he used?”
“Yes!” Harry snapped furiously. “I’m sure he’s told you all about the bloody thing!”
“I did not know about it until after the fact,” Snape said coldly.
“Argh! Why hasn’t anyone destroyed this damned thing? The Death Eaters could just waltz
back through at any time!” Harry shouted.
“Keep your voice down, Potter,” Snape hissed.

“Oh, we can’t be discovered in here,” Harry said dismissively. “This room won’t even show
up on the bloody map.” He glared at the Vanishing Cabinet. “The only way anyone could find
us is through this bloody cabinet,” he said, with a vicious kick to the cabinet in question.
“Control yourself, Potter,” Snape said dangerously.
“This is bloody ridiculous,” Harry said, ignoring Snape. “I mean, how could everyone be so
stupid as to just leave this thing here?” He began to pace the narrow alleyway.
“Why did you not do anything about it?” Snape asked, eyes narrowed.
“I should have,” Harry said furiously, angry at himself along with everyone else. “Obviously
I’ve made a serious mistake.”
Harry kicked at a trunk on the opposite side. “It’s my own fault for listening to the bloody
adults.”
“Oh, we’ve got everything under control, Harry,” he mocked. “Leave everything to the
adults, Potter. You’re too young to be worrying yourself about any of this, Potter.” He
continued to pace as he mocked all the adults who’d been trying to pacify him for years. “We
can’t tell you anything because you might get hurt, Harry. You just worry about your studies,
Harry.”
He took on an impression of Hermione’s higher pitched voice. “Harry, you know the adults
are just trying to protect you. You don’t know what you’re talking about, Harry. Oh no,
you’re just being ridiculous, Harry. Malfoy’s not up to no good. You’re just being too
suspicious, Harry.”
“Argh!” Harry yelled again. “I fucking tried to tell Dumbledore that Malfoy was up to
something. Would he listen to me? Hell, no! Of course, I find out as he’s bloody dying that he
knew a lot of it. But if the old man had actually listened to me instead of cutting me off every
time, he could’ve looked into whatever Malfoy was doing in this room. I knew he was doing
something in here!” Harry yelled out his frustration. “Will anyone listen to me? Fuck no!
Harry’s too bloody stupid to be able to sense danger!”
“I’ve been able to sense danger since I was a fucking year old!” Harry shouted. “It’s a handy
tool for trying to survive! Bloody hell! If everyone would quit trying to fucking shelter me,
and tell me what the hell is actually going on, maybe then I’d be able to do something besides
just survive. It’d be bound to make things a whole lot simpler, anyway.”
Harry stopped ranting and stood with chest heaving as he glared at the Vanishing Cabinet.
“Why did I fucking listen to the adults?” he muttered.
“Are you quite finished?” Snape asked.
Harry shifted his glare to Snape. “We need to destroy this thing,” he said.
“Indeed,” Snape said. “Particularly as the other one has mysteriously disappeared.”
Harry blinked in surprise. “What? The other one is gone?”

Snape gave him a curt nod. “The Dark Lord is quite displeased that his easy access to
Hogwarts has disappeared. The proprietors at Borgin & Burkes have had their memories
modified and no one has been able to determine the location of the cabinet.”
Harry frowned, looking back at the cabinet. The cabinet was one of those topics that he and
Draco had been avoiding talking about in-depth. Had Draco done something with the other
cabinet? He had been the one to secure it in the first place. Harry remembered that day in
Knockturn Alley as they’d followed Draco.
If Draco did have the other cabinet, was it possible that they could use them somehow? Was
it really best to destroy the cabinet?
“If the cabinet was shrunk, it would be rendered useless at that size, wouldn’t it?” Harry
asked.
Snape frowned at him. “It would, but why would you wish to keep it rather than destroy it?”
“Well, what if I came across the other one,” Harry said, thinking fast. “Maybe they could be
used somehow against Voldemort at some point.” He went on, warming up to his idea. “I
mean, the Death Eaters got into Hogwarts this way successfully. Wouldn’t it be possible to
get Order members to where Voldemort’s at, at some point?”
Snape’s frown deepened. “That would require you to find the other cabinet,” he said slowly.
Harry didn’t think that was actually going to be a problem, but didn’t say so. “Well, as long
as I kept at least this one safe and rendered useless for the time being, I’d at least have it if we
came across the other one. Certainly you could keep an eye out for the other.”
“Very well, then,” Snape said, and proceeded to shrink the cabinet. Harry picked up the small
box that now fit in the palm of his hand. It seemed a little unbelievable that this tiny thing had
such potential.
“Keep it safe, Potter,” Snape commanded.
Harry quickly pocketed it, surprised that Snape was actually allowing this.
“Now, where is the book?” Snape asked.
Shaking his head, remembering why they’d actually come, Harry turned and began searching
for a cabinet with a bust of a warlock on top. Spotting the wig and tiara, Harry hurried
forward and jerked open the cabinet door. He reached behind the cage and pulled out the
potions book in triumph.
Snape sneered in disgust. “Interesting hiding place, Potter,” he sneered.
Harry glared at him. “I was in a bit of a hurry at the time,” he said irritably. He handed over
the book anyway and watched as Snape silently flipped through it.
Snape snapped the book shut. “Come, we have much to do still,” he said.
Groaning inwardly, Harry followed Snape back to the door. Again, Snape cast the
Disillusionment Charm as Harry pulled his cloak over himself. Since Snape had kept his old
office in the dungeons the previous year, they both knew where they were going. Regardless,
Snape again kept his hand on Harry’s shoulder, keeping them together in the silent corridors.
They made it to the dungeons without incident, and Snape swiftly dismantled the wards that
allowed them access to his office. Snape looked around in satisfaction, and Harry realized
that Snape had been right that no one had disturbed the room.
Harry stood awkwardly in the centre of the room. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to
do, and he wasn’t particularly fond of this room. All he really wanted to do was crawl into
bed. And that thought just reminded him that he had an injured Draco still in his bed. He was
surprised when Snape first snagged two potion vials off a shelf and handed one to Harry.
“Pepper-Up. It’ll help revive you,” Snape said, sounding as exhausted as Harry felt.
They downed the potions and Harry felt like he could function again. He watched as Snape
conjured a few boxes and passed one of them to him.
“Make yourself useful, Potter,” Snape sneered. “Pack that shelf there,” he ordered, pointing
to one of the nearby bookshelves.
Sighing, Harry grabbed the box and set to work, quickly packing books away. He wasn’t sure
what he thought they’d be doing, but somehow he’d been under the impression they were
retrieving just a couple of books. They quickly generated a couple dozen boxes of books and
supplies.
Harry found himself a bit of a bonus, though, when Snape conjured special racks and set him
to work packing away a cabinet full of potion vials. With Snape working on the other side of
the room, he was easily able to pocket a few needed potions. He had thought he’d have to
sneak the potions from the hospital wing.
Snape swiftly shrank all of the boxes of books and most of the other boxes. Only the finished
potions and ingredients he didn’t shrink. Harry groaned when he realized he was going to be
lugging boxes all the way back to Hogsmeade, because shrinking them would alter the
properties too much. Snape just sneered at him, though, and conjured a couple of trolleys like
the ones used at the train station. Harry scowled and started stacking the remaining boxes.
They’d emptied the office of everything Snape wanted before Snape moved to a doorway
Harry hadn’t even noticed. Stepping through, Harry realized they were now in Snape’s
private chambers. Groaning, he watched as Snape conjured yet more boxes and simply
pointed at the nearest bookshelf. Harry dragged himself over and started packing the many,
many books.
How could one man have so many books, Harry grumbled to himself. Snape disappeared
through another doorway which Harry assumed led to his bedroom. It took them another hour
to pack everything Snape wanted from his chambers. They both ended up with pockets full of
shrunken boxes and two trolleys fully loaded with boxes.
Even with the books shrunken in size, Harry was carrying so many that he still felt weighed
down. He watched as Snape cast some type of Levitation spell on the trolleys. They would be
able to guide them through the hallways without them rattling on the stone floors.
Harry looked over the map as Snape made a final check of his rooms. McGonagall was in the
Headmaster’s office, and Harry started as he realized that the room was probably hers now.
The hospital wing seemed to have less people and less activity than it had earlier. Harry
assumed that most of the people there were asleep. Filch and Mrs. Norris were up wandering
now, though. Harry didn’t know what the hell the man expected to find at this hour. Then
again, it was already after five o’clock. Maybe the man had to let the stupid cat out in the
early morning or something.
Harry informed Snape about Filch and they detoured slightly to get back to the third floor and
the statue of the humpbacked witch. The rest of the trip back was blessedly silent and
uneventful, but Harry was dragging his heels again long before they made it to Grimmauld
Place. He was surprised, but grateful, when Snape slowed his pace without a word.
They unloaded everything in the kitchen, Snape ordered Harry to get some sleep then meet
him the next day, and finally Harry was allowed to go back to the Dursleys.
*****
Chapter Ten
Chapter Notes

Chapter Ten
Having heard the front door opening, Aunt Petunia met him in the hallway and gasped in
shock when she saw him.
“Do I look that bad?” Harry grumbled.
“Are you all right?” Petunia asked worriedly.
Harry looked at her oddly, still surprised when she showed concern on the rare occasion.
Now and then he’d thought about trying to talk to her, but he kept putting it off. It was
enough trouble trying to figure out Draco and Snape, and his aunt was just too far down on
his importance scale at the moment.
“I’m bloody exhausted, but otherwise fine,” he mumbled.
Petunia glanced up the stairs. “I saw your guest,” she said.
Harry gave her a sharp glance, which she saw when she turned to look at him again. “There
was a blood trail,” she said stiffly.
“Ah,” Harry said, looking at the floor, which she’d obviously already cleaned. Or else, Winky
had. Harry had missed it completely the night before, but he’d been a little preoccupied.
“Will he be all right?” Petunia asked.
Harry nodded. “I’ve brought back some potions that will help him,” he said, starting for the
stairs. “I’ll probably sleep most of the day,” he added.
“Harry,” Petunia said. He turned back. “Is . . . everything all right?” she asked nervously.
Harry realized that she had no idea what had actually happened the night before, but clearly
guessed that something major had occurred. He nodded wearily. “Everyone’s alive,” he said,
and made his way upstairs. As far as he was concerned, she didn’t need any more explanation
than that.
He wasn’t expecting to be accosted by Victoria upon opening his bedroom door. His mind
kept insisting it was night time, but he realized that it was actually early morning now.
Petunia was downstairs making breakfast, and Victoria was obviously fresh for a new day.
Glancing over to the bed, he saw Draco watching him, face lined with pain. Crouching down,
he looked at Victoria, who had crawled over to him and was currently trying to climb up his
grimy trouser leg. He picked her up gingerly and set her in her cot. “Not now, Victoria,” he
pleaded. “I’m tired and your daddy needs the potions I’ve brought for him.”
She cooed at him and held her arms out for him to pick her up again. Harry passed her a
couple of toys and she was distracted for the moment at least. Winky gently pushed Harry
away and towards the bed.
Harry started pulling potion vials out of his trouser pockets and lining them up on the
nightstand. When he found one of the Pain-Relieving Potions, he pulled the stopper and
passed it to Draco, who accepted it gratefully. He wasn’t so sure Draco still needed it, but
passed him one of the Blood-Replenishing Potions as well. Draco didn’t argue and downed
that one as well.
“Better?” Harry asked.
“Now,” Draco said tiredly.
“Then let’s get you healed up,” Harry said, sighing heavily.
Draco looked at him sharply. “Suddenly learned some healing spells?”
“Yes,” Harry said wearily. “It’s been a productive night.”
“Where’ve you been, anyway?” Draco asked. “You’ve been gone for hours.”
“Hogwarts,” Harry said shortly. He pulled the blankets back and began removing the
bandages that had become soaked with blood again. He was suddenly thankful he’d given
Draco that second potion.
Draco didn’t question him any further and only lay there quietly, watching Harry as he
worked. Once all the bandages were removed, Harry pulled out his wand. Closing his eyes,
he went over again exactly what Snape had taught him.
Opening his eyes, he focused on the wound. He placed the tip of his wand at one end and
trailed it along the gash as he said the incantation. Especially as he was doing it, he again
thought it sounded like a song. The wound slowly began closing, and Harry watched in
morbid fascination for a moment before turning back to the potion vials to find the one with
dittany. He had thought dittany was a plant, but Snape seemed to have some liquefied form.
He had no idea what the man had added to it, but he had said that it would help prevent
permanent scarring if taken immediately.
Harry hoped that meant immediately after the wound was healed, rather than immediately
after receiving the injury in the first place. He pulled the stopper and passed it to Draco.
Draco gave him an odd look, but downed the contents of the vial.
Harry set the empty vial back on the nightstand before looking at the wound again. It was
healing up quite nicely now and very quickly. He startled slightly as Winky popped up beside
him with a bowl of warm water for Harry to wash the blood away. Careful not to get too
close to the edge of the wound that was still healing, Harry sponged Draco’s abdomen and
side, leaving the skin clean.
He eyed Draco’s chest, and was grateful when he saw no scarring. He hadn’t meant to curse
Draco like that in the first place, and would’ve felt even worse now if he’d left the other boy
with permanent scars. Checking the fresh wound, he was pretty sure there wasn’t going to be
a scar left behind this time, either. He didn’t think it would be much longer before it was
healed completely.
“How do you feel now?” he asked, looking back to Draco’s face.
Draco’s gaze flicked to his side then back to Harry. “I’m feeling much better,” he said quietly.
“Although, tired and weak still,” he admitted.
“Yeah, tired,” Harry agreed, closing his eyes briefly. He snapped his eyes open again, feeling
like he could fall asleep standing up by this time. “I’m going to go take a quick shower. I’m
hoping that’ll be healed completely in just a bit.”
Draco nodded, watching Harry carefully. Not that Harry noticed. Knowing that he was going
to finally be able to rest was simply making the exhaustion seem to hit even harder. He
snagged some pyjamas from his wardrobe and disappeared to the bathroom.
Harry stepped back into his room wearing only his pyjama bottoms and still towelling his
hair from his shower, just ten minutes after he’d left. He still felt exhausted, but at least a
little refreshed now. He knew it wouldn’t last long, though.
“Da,” Victoria said, holding her arms out to Harry.
“Da to you, too,” Harry said with a small smile, picking her up and holding her close this
time. “You missed me yesterday, didn’t you?”
She cooed and giggled as Harry’s wet hair dripped water on her. He shook his head, spraying
more water on her. Chuckling, he carried her over to Draco.
Draco took her, but he was staring at Harry. “You were injured tonight, too,” he said.
Frowning, Harry looked down at himself. He hadn’t thought much about the bruising from
training with Snape. “No, this is just from some duelling practice I’ve been doing,” he said
dismissively. “You’re the one who was actually injured tonight.”
“Wow,” he breathed, staring at Draco’s abdomen. Now all he could see was pale, smooth
skin, stretching from his abdomen and around his side. There was no sign of any wound and
all the blood had been washed away.
Draco gave him a slight smirk, but he still looked incredibly weary. “Good as new,” he said.
Harry frowned. “You still need rest,” he said. “You’re not planning on trying to Apparate yet,
are you?”
“I should go back,” Draco said. “My mum’ll be worried. So will Snape.”
Harry closed his eyes. Snape would not appreciate having to search for Draco after all he’d
already been doing, but Harry still wasn’t so sure it was a good idea for Draco to try
Apparating yet. Sure, the wound was healed now, but he had lost a lot of blood, and he’d had
no rest. Blood. Draco’s clothes were still covered in blood.
Harry opened his eyes and spotted the pile of bloody clothes.
“Winky, could you please take Malfoy’s clothes and . . . well, try to get them halfway clean
and presentable again?” Harry asked.
“Yes, Master Harry,” Winky said. “And Winky will bring back breakfast.”
Harry nodded and she disappeared. He sat down at the foot of the bed. “Well, you can’t leave
until you’re clothes are in better shape,” he said.
“That’s a sneaky way of keeping me here,” Draco complained.
Harry snorted. “It’s not my fault your clothes are a mess. And it probably won’t take Winky
that long anyway,” he added.
Draco didn’t comment, and Harry had to wonder if Draco was intentionally avoiding Harry
by playing with Victoria.
“Won’t they just think you’ve gone to stay with one of your friends or something?” Harry
asked, opening his eyes again. They kept trying to close without his permission.
“Probably . . . maybe,” Draco said, shrugging awkwardly. He glanced at Harry. “There’s no

where really safe at the moment, and you just never know what could happen.”
Harry sighed, knowing Draco was right. He didn’t know Draco’s mum, but he knew Snape.
The man would not be happy with Draco’s disappearance. “Well, it’s not like I’m forcing you
to stay here, so do whatever you need to do,” Harry said finally, letting his eyes fall closed
again.
Harry fell asleep propped up at the end of the bed. He never noticed Winky returning with
clean clothes for Draco and taking over Victoria’s care again. He also never noticed Draco
Levitating him and settling him into the bed next to the blond.
The next time Harry registered anything, it was dark again. Facing the clock, he realized he
must have slept the whole day away, and most of the night as well. He didn’t know the last
time he’d slept decently at all, let alone ever sleeping that many hours at once. Well, except
for when he was injured.
Injured. Harry stiffened as he realized that he likely had an injured Draco Malfoy cuddling . .
. cuddling . . . up behind him. Actually, he hoped that was Draco, because it sure wasn’t
Victoria in bed with him, and he didn’t want to know who else could’ve been in his bed.
Slowly, Harry extracted himself from the arm thrown over his side and edged his way off of
the bed. He stood and stared back at the bed, where indeed, Draco was still sleeping.
“Master Harry is feeling better now?”
Startled, Harry whirled to face Winky. At Hogwarts he was used to sharing a dorm with
several other people. It wasn’t the norm at the Dursley’s, though, and he was still struggling
with the fact that he was sharing the small room with a house-elf, a baby, and . . . Draco. He
glanced back at the bed before nodding at Winky.
“Yeah, I’m feeling much better,” he whispered, feeling the truth of that even as he spoke the
words.
Winky went to the desk and picked up a piece of paper which she then handed to Harry.
Harry looked at it and groaned softly. Hermione had been there looking for him and from the
note Aunt Petunia had left for him, he gathered his aunt had very rudely sent Hermione
packing. At least she’d thought to warn him. Harry cursed himself for forgetting to at least
dash off a note to Hermione letting her know he was fine before he fell asleep.
Not sure of how long it would take for Hedwig to deliver a message, Harry decided it might
just be his best solution to simply pop into the Weasley’s house for breakfast that morning. In
fact, he was starved, and a hearty Weasley breakfast sounded like a really good idea.
“Does Master Harry wish for Winky to do anything?” Winky asked quietly.
Harry stared at her. “Don’t you need to sleep?” he asked curiously.
“Winky rested earlier when Mistress Victoria went to sleep,” Winky answered. “Winky is
ready for whatever Master Harry wishes.”
Frowning, Harry tried to think about what even needed to be done at the moment. The recent
crisis was currently over. For the most part, he thought, with a glance to the bed. It was still
several hours before he had to meet Snape, and even a couple hours before he’d be going to
the Weasleys.
“Um, if you don’t mind, you could work for a couple of hours on the house,” Harry
suggested quietly. “I’m afraid I’m going to need you here for Victoria again soon. I have to
go to the Weasleys this morning for breakfast to deal with this,” he said, holding up the note
from his aunt. “Then later I’ve got things to do at the house myself. Um, don’t touch anything
in the kitchen. I’ll be dealing with that mess later,” he said with a grimace.
He looked at Winky apologetically. “I’m sorry I created such a disaster, but I had to get it
dropped off and I was just too tired to care at the time. Plus, I still had to hurry to get back
here to help Malfoy.”
“It is all right, Master Harry,” Winky said with a smile. “Winky is happy to be useful.”
Harry gave her a twisted smile. “I don’t know what I’d be doing without you at the moment,”
he admitted.
He frowned, turning thoughtful. “I’m going to need a place to brew potions, but I don’t know
what would be the most appropriate room. I reckon I need to talk to Madam Pomfrey again
today to see how she’s doing on supplies. I’m not sure how urgent that situation is yet.”
He let out a frustrated sigh. “Well, for now, I reckon you can work on whatever you think
best, except ignore the kitchen, and be back here in a couple hours. Oh, and could you, um,
please bring some breakfast for Malfoy and Victoria when you come back?” he asked,
wincing at all the responsibilities he was placing on Winky.
She just gave him a wide smile, though, nodded, and then disappeared with a pop. Sighing,
Harry went to use the loo, then came back trying to decide what to do next.
“Potions, Potter?”
Harry focused on Draco, who was now propped up in the bed. “How are you feeling?” Harry
asked, ignoring the question he’d been asked. He eyed Draco critically. “You’re looking a lot
better,” he said.
“Aside from the fact that I desperately need to use the loo, I actually feel better than I have in
a long, long time,” Draco said softly.
Harry chuckled and gestured to the door. “You know the way,” he said.
Grimacing, Draco got out of bed and disappeared down the hall. Harry took his place on the
bed and sprawled out, feeling halfway relaxed for the moment. While Draco was gone, he
tried to figure out how to respond to the question about potions. Anything relating Harry to
potions was up for suspicion and he knew it.
Draco came back and shoved at Harry’s feet so he could sit at the end of the bed. Harry
willingly shifted, feeling generous.
“I think we need to talk,” Draco said firmly.
Harry groaned, feeling his relaxed, generous mood flying out the window. “Those words
never mean anything good,” he grumbled.
Draco smirked at him and nodded. “I have to say that I actually agree with you on that,” he
said.
“Then why do we have to talk?” Harry whinged. “I was feeling halfway peaceful for once.”
Draco was silent for a couple minutes and Harry grudgingly sat up and propped himself
against the headboard.
“You’re a mystery, Harry Potter,” Draco said quietly. “I don’t understand you at all.”
“I’m not a mystery,” Harry scoffed. “Ask anyone, yourself included, I’m regarded as an open
book.”
Draco eyed him contemplatively. “And that’s precisely how you’ve got everyone fooled and
constantly underestimating you,” he said.
Harry blinked in surprise, not sure how to respond to that statement.
Draco didn’t seem to expect a response as he continued. “Everyone seems to think they know
you, you react in the ways they expect you to, and then you go about doing your own thing
without anyone being the wiser.”
Draco waved his hand expansively. “Take this situation. On the surface, your friends don’t
have a clue as to what you’re doing. You’re doing all the right things and saving this town,
but then you’re going behind the scenes and doing whatever works for you, regardless of
what everyone thinks.”
Harry shrugged. “I suppose,” he said.
Draco snorted in amusement. “I’ve always pegged you as the ultimate Gryffindor, trying to
save the world. And you are that,” he admitted. “But what no one seems to realize, is that
there’s this Slytherin side of you that hides behind that Gryffindor exterior.”
Harry’s eyes widened. With the exception of Dumbledore, he’d never told anyone that the
Sorting Hat had wanted to put him in Slytherin. He’d never been told, by anyone, that he had
Slytherin qualities. And now, here was the Slytherin Ice Prince himself, talking about Harry’s
Slytherin side.
Draco was still eying him contemplatively which was making Harry squirm. “You know, I’d
always thought you were a ridiculous Gryffindor, always getting himself caught. But now, I’d
be willing to bet that there’s far more times that you’ve been sneaky enough not to get
caught. I’d be willing to bet that there’s a whole lot to Harry Potter that most people don’t
know.”
Draco eyed the room they were sitting in. “How many people actually know your relatives
have always treated you like dirt and that you live like this? Hiding an upbringing like this
sounds like something a Slytherin would do. It doesn’t sound like something an attention-
seeking Gryffindor would do.”
“I’m not an attention seeker,” Harry said hotly, Draco pushing one of his many buttons.
“That’s my point,” Draco said calmly. “I always thought you were, but,” he glanced around
the mostly bare room again. “Obviously you’re not.”
Harry frowned, trying to figure out exactly what Draco’s point was in all this, because he
wasn’t seeing it.
“I came to you with Victoria, relying on your Gryffindor qualities, but in hindsight, I think I
saw something more there,” Draco said. “What would have happened if I’d taken Victoria to
Weasley or Granger, or any other Gryffindor?” he asked.
“They would’ve helped,” Harry said, frowning doubtfully.
“They would’ve helped Victoria,” Draco agreed. “They would’ve kept her safe, and then they
would’ve had me locked up to keep everyone else safe from me.”
Harry couldn’t really deny that, so he didn’t say anything.
“But you, Harry Potter,” Draco said. “You kept your mouth shut and didn’t turn me in right
away. You waited to determine if there was anything you could get out of the situation. Just
like a Slytherin would do.”
“That wasn’t what I was thinking at the time,” Harry muttered.
Draco shrugged. “Maybe that wasn’t your conscious thoughts, but it showed in your actions,”
he said.
“I’m still not trying to take advantage of you like a Slytherin would,” Harry said. “And
you’ve been around for almost a month.”
“I know that,” Draco said. “That’s part of the reason why you’re a mystery. I don’t quite
understand how you can be such a mix of both Gryffindor and Slytherin qualities. A
Gryffindor would’ve turned me in immediately. A Slytherin would’ve held me captive and
tried to use me to any advantage. You’ve somehow used Slytherin methods with a Gryffindor
attitude.”
Harry shrugged, feeling like they were going in circles and it was making him feel exhausted
again. His mind seemed to be a constant swirl of thoughts and emotions, but he wasn’t used
to this cool, analytical style. This was usually when he tuned out and let Hermione have at it.
“Is there a point to all this?” he asked irritably. He couldn’t quite decide if he was being
insulted or complimented, and it wasn’t improving his mood.
Draco held out his bare forearm, Dark Mark on display. Harry glanced at it, but his eyes
didn’t linger as he met Draco’s gaze again. “Yeah, what about it?”
Draco shook his head, but he was now smiling slightly. “Most people would see that and run
screaming, yet you seem to barely notice it.”
Harry shrugged. “I don’t see much point in being afraid of a tattoo,” he said.
Draco shook his head again in exasperation. “It’s not just a tattoo and we both know it,” he
said. “But that’s not even really my point.”
“Well, what is your point then?” Harry asked.
“You’ve just slept in the same bed as a known Death Eater,” Draco said.
“Not by choice,” Harry mumbled, flushing slightly.
“Maybe not, but you did,” Draco said, smirking at Harry’s reaction. “And it’s the best sleep
either one of us have had for ages.”
“Malfoy,” Harry whinged. “Surely you must have some point in all this?”
Draco seemed to ignore him as he continued. “You know I’m a Death Eater. You gave me
this pep talk to get me out there to do what I needed to do. In the middle of a battle, you
risked yourself to get me out of there when I was injured. You provided me a safe place to go.
You patched me up the best you could. You went out and somehow learned a way to heal me
magically and came up with the potions I needed, then fell asleep with me, providing me the
best rest I’ve had for months.”
Harry shrugged, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. “Um, I had a bad day?” he suggested,
turning it into a question.
Draco snorted in amusement. “I’m sure most people would consider it a very bad day for
Harry Potter when he helps out Draco Malfoy like you have.”
He shook his head, sobering again. “But I saw you off and on that whole long day. I don’t
know the half of what you did, but I know you were busy the entire time. I saw you drive
yourself into complete exhaustion. Yet, you still made time for me, a Death Eater, your
supposed enemy, your real enemy until a month ago. You helped me when I needed it. You
helped me even when you clearly had far more important things to be doing,” he added
softly.
Harry stared, again left feeling speechless.
“Over the last month, I’ve seen many signs of you being the goody-goody Gryffindor I
thought you were, but I’ve also seen many signs of you being the cunning Slytherin,” Draco
said. “Gryffindors are supposed to be brave and Slytherins are supposed to be driven and
ambitious. I’m seeing both in you.”
He paused for a moment, seeming to gather his thoughts. “What I’m seeing tells me that I’ve
been so incredibly wrong in the past—about you and about this war.”
Draco’s words felt heavy in the air. Harry knew that was a monumental admission on Draco’s
part.
Draco swallowed heavily before speaking again. “I came to you because I needed help, and
really no other reason than that. I’ve offered tidbits of information in exchange for that help.
But my main goal has always been to save my family and my own arse. You’ve known I
couldn’t be trusted completely. You’ve known that it was beneficial to me at the moment, but
it didn’t go much beyond that. You’ve taken advantage of what I’m dealing with, and used it
while you can.”
“What is your point, Malfoy?” Harry asked quietly.
Draco sucked in a deep breath and exhaled heavily before answering. “I want to switch sides.
I don’t just mean I want protection for me and my family. I want to try to help.”
“Why?” Harry asked warily.
“You, Harry Potter, will win this war, with or without my help. I’ve seen it in all your actions.
Unlike me, you’re not being driven by fear, but you are driven. You will do everything you
can to win this, and you’ll help anyone along the way that you can. Even stray Death Eaters,”
Draco added wryly.
He quirked a rueful smile. “You may be able to win without my help, but I’d like to be able to
do whatever I can to make things easier.” He glanced over to Victoria’s cot. “Not harder,” he
added with a sigh.
“Malfoys are good at saying the right things people want to hear,” Harry said thoughtfully.
Draco nodded solemnly. “But not even Malfoys are immune to Veritaserum,” he said.
Harry stared at him in shock. “You’re willing to subject yourself to Veritaserum?” he

exclaimed. The thought had never even crossed Harry’s mind. Not once in the entire month
Draco had been coming to the house. Truth serum was definitely not something to be taken
lightly.
“It’s the only way I can think of to prove myself to you,” Draco said evenly.
Harry leaned his head back and rubbed his eyes. This was just too much.
Draco was still talking. “You can’t tell me anything at the moment because you can’t trust
me. I can’t be very much help this way.”
“You’re useful as a spy,” Harry muttered.
Draco snorted in self-contempt. “Yes, and I’m such a successful Death Eater,” he said
sarcastically. “I need Harry bloody Potter coaching me through my first real raid and had to
have him rescue me then patch me back up again afterwards.”
Harry dropped his hands away from his eyes and grinned, seeing the humour in that situation.
“You might have a point there,” he admitted.
“Shut it, Potter,” Draco said irritably, but his lips turned up in a small smile.
“Okay, so you’re not the best Death Eater in the world,” Harry said. “But I didn’t think you
wanted to just disappear. You wanted to protect your mum.”
Draco grimaced and turned away. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted. “I’ve, well, I’ve
thought about just coming out and asking her if she’d be willing to switch sides, but I’m not
sure I could Obliviate her if she doesn’t react well.”
“You’d Obliviate your own mum?” Harry asked in horror.
“If it protected both her and myself, yes,” Draco muttered, not exactly sounding proud of that
at least.
“This is fucked up,” Harry said.
Draco shot him a glare, but didn’t comment. They lapsed into silence for several minutes.
Harry’s mind was whirling. Draco Malfoy wanted to completely switch sides and was even
willing to subject himself to Veritaserum. Harry was pretty sure he was being sincere, and he
didn’t want to use Veritaserum on Draco. The ultimate problem still lay in the fact that he
wanted to protect his mother as well.
Harry knew very little about Narcissa Malfoy. She seemed like a stuck up snobby bitch to
him, but he’d only seen her a couple of times. He remembered that Narcissa had wanted
Draco at Hogwarts because he’d be closer to home. He knew she was always sending him
care packages at school.
Suddenly, he also remembered that she had gone to Snape in hopes that he could help protect
Draco. Snape had ended up in an Unbreakable Vow because of it. Harry really needed
Snape’s help with this.
But why hadn’t Snape tried to bring them over to the other side before? What did Snape
know that Harry didn’t when it came to the Malfoys? Draco did keep insisting that Snape was
a full Death Eater. Were they simply that good at keeping up the masks that kept them safe?
Harry had to admit that it was little Victoria that seemed to have been the final push for
Draco. Up to that point, he’d been willing to be a Death Eater. Albeit, a bit grudgingly as he
was given such a difficult task.
Snape had no idea Victoria existed. Well, he knew Harry was taking care of her, but didn’t
know she was a Malfoy. Perhaps she could be the swaying point for Narcissa as well as
Draco. What little Harry knew about her, she seemed willing to do almost anything for her
precious Draco. That thought made Harry ill. It reminded him too much of Petunia with her
precious Dudley.
“You need help with potions,” Draco said suddenly.
“Yeah,” Harry answered absently. “With both Potions professors gone, Madam Pomfrey is
going to run low on potions soon.”
“I can help with potions,” Draco offered.
“I was going to ask if you’d help,” Harry admitted, focusing on him again. “I’m just not quite
sure what I’m doing yet.”
“You went to Hogwarts to get stuff to set up a lab,” Draco said. “From what you said to
Winky earlier.”
“Yeah,” Harry admitted. He just didn’t admit that he’d been with Snape and it was actually
all his things. Harry wasn’t even positive Snape planned to set up a lab at Grimmauld Place.
He was pretty sure, but he never quite knew anything when it came to Snape.
Harry looked at the clock and sighed. He was going to have to get ready soon if he still
intended to go to the Weasleys for breakfast.
“I’m not sure what to tell you, Malfoy,” he said, sounding tired again. “You overheard me
talking to Winky and you know we’re making progress on setting up a safe place. Right now,
it’s still not really fit for anyone to live in, and I’m honestly not sure when I could take you
there. I don’t like the idea of subjecting you to Veritaserum, and I won’t do it unless I
absolutely have to. Maybe it’ll seem more necessary before we can move into the safe
house.”
No matter how Harry felt about it, he was fairly certain that Snape would require Draco to be
questioned under Veritaserum before he’d ever allow him into Grimmauld Place. There didn’t
seem much point in subjecting Draco to it twice.
“You know I’d much rather you be on my side and away from Voldemort. You’re highly
intelligent, you’re excellent at potions, and you know a lot of things I don’t that you could
help me with. That doesn’t even take Victoria into account. For both her sake and mine, I’d
prefer you on my side and out of harm’s way. As much as it’s possible to get,” he clarified.
“We’ve both known this for weeks now. The question is still your family.”
He looked over at Victoria’s cot where she was starting to stir. “You came to me because of
Victoria. Maybe it’s time to tell your mum about her,” he said softly.
He rose and went to pick up Victoria, cuddling the warm, still sleepy baby close to his chest.
He looked over and met Draco’s gaze. “I’m not sure there’s much I can do until you decide
where you stand with your mum.”
Draco nodded reluctantly and Harry shifted his attention back to the baby. “Good morning,”
he said softly.
“Da,” she said, smiling happily.
Harry chuckled. “You’re going to have to learn some actual words,” he said. “Come on, I bet
you need to be changed.”
He laid her on a blanket on the floor and got her cleaned up and dressed for the day, then
turned her loose. He watched her as she crawled to the chair and worked to pull herself up.
“Good job!” he exclaimed softly once she was standing. “You’re a mite wobbly, but it won’t
be long before you’re walking all over the place.”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he frowned and looked around the small room
that seemed to keep shrinking. There wasn’t much space in there at all, and the poor thing
had already been cooped up for a month. If things worked the way Harry wanted, she’d have
a little more space at Grimmauld Place, but she’d still be cooped up.
“I’m not being fair to her, am I?” Draco asked quietly.
Harry looked up at Draco and slowly shook his head, before turning to watch Victoria again.
“It’s not right to keep a child locked away,” he said softly.
“And you would know,” Draco said knowingly.
Harry exhaled heavily and simply nodded.
“What would happen if you took her with you to the Weasleys this morning?” Draco asked
neutrally.
Harry glanced at him sharply, but was met with the damned expressionless mask he hated.
“I’d be bombarded with about a million questions that I couldn’t answer, Victoria would be
fussed over beyond all belief, and hopefully she’d have fun getting out of here for awhile.”
“And then?” Draco questioned.
Harry frowned in confusion, but answered anyway. “And then we’d come back here, I’d feel
guilty for handing her back off to Winky again, and then I’d go do what I need to do at the
house,” he said.
“You’d bring her back?” Draco asked, still with that same neutral tone.
“Of course I’d bring her back!” Harry said hotly. “I’m not letting anyone take her away from
me!”
Harry’s eyes widened along with Draco’s. “Fuck!” Harry exclaimed softly before pulling his
knees up to his chest and burying his face.
He lifted his head to look at Draco when the room remained quiet for a couple minutes,
except for Victoria’s chatter. “Look, I know she’s not mine and I’m not trying to take her
away from you or anything. I was just . . .,” he said, trailing off uncertainly.
“You were just pointing out that it would be over your dead body before you let anyone try to
take Victoria away from you,” Draco said, tone still suspiciously even.
“Yeah,” Harry agreed miserably.
“Then take her with you for awhile,” Draco said.
“What?” Harry asked, unbelieving he’d heard right.
“Take her to the Weasleys with you. Surely it must be safe enough there for her, and she
shouldn’t be stuck in here all the time,” Draco said, although he was grimacing in distaste. He
gazed steadily at Harry. “I trust you to bring her back,” he said.
“How the bloody hell would I explain having a baby?” Harry asked incredulously.
Draco grimaced again. “You could tell everyone that it’s someone your aunt knew. Someone
that’s been killed in one of the attacks and your aunt is now taking care of the child,” he said,
obviously not liking the fabricated story.
“But since Aunt Petunia can’t stand babies being dumped on her doorstep,” Harry added
bitterly, “Victoria is now pretty much in my care for the time being.”
“Exactly,” Draco agreed.
Harry dropped his head to his knees again, thinking about that scenario. He could probably
make it work, especially since everyone knew very little about the Dursleys, but just enough
to make the story sound believable.
“I’m guessing you could get your aunt to go along with the story,” Draco added. “Just in case
anyone did decide to check.”
“Like Hermione,” Harry muttered. He looked up at Draco thoughtfully. “You’ve been

thinking about this, haven’t you?” he asked.
Draco gave him a rueful half smile, but nodded. “It’s taken me awhile to come up with a
plausible sounding lie for this situation,” he admitted.
Harry laughed. “Well, I have to admit, it’s going to be easier now to explain why I had to
leave in such a hurry the other night,” he said. “Well, not exactly easier, but I’ve got a valid
excuse now. Even if I told them, I don’t think they’d believe that I had to hurry back because
I had an injured Malfoy in my bed,” he said with a grin.
“True,” Draco said, smirking at him.
Harry stood to get dressed and thought of a new problem. “Um, can I Apparate with her?” he
asked. “I’ve gotten better at Apparating myself, but is it even safe for a baby?”
“I Apparated with her to get her here, didn’t I?” Draco pointed out.
“I wouldn’t want to splinch her or anything,” Harry said nervously.
“You’ll be fine,” Draco said, dismissing Harry’s worries.
“Easy for you to say,” Harry muttered, snagging jeans and a t-shirt from his wardrobe. He
changed quickly, but noticed Draco watching him as he pulled the shirt over his head.
“What?” Harry asked warily.
“Nothing,” Draco said quickly. “Just wondering who the hell does your shopping for you.”
Harry scowled, discomfort easily forgotten. “At least these clothes fit me,” he grumbled.
Draco shook his head despairingly before turning to get dressed himself. Harry caught
himself watching for a moment before forcibly looking away and gathering up Victoria.
“What do you say, Vicki, feel like going to visit the Weasleys this morning?” he asked.
“Vicki?!” Draco exclaimed in outrage. “Her name is Victoria.”
“But it’s such a big name for such a little girl,” Harry explained.
“I don’t care!” Draco snapped. “She’s not a Vicki!”
“Well, how about Tori?” Harry suggested.
“No,” Draco growled, glaring fiercely at Harry.
Harry blinked at the extreme reaction. “Ana or Lissa?” he asked hopefully.
“No, Potter, you can’t call her any of those names,” Draco replied angrily.
Harry started laughing, watching as Draco tried to yell at Harry and button up his shirt at the
same time.
“What are you laughing at?” Draco sneered.
“You complain about my clothes, but at least I can get them on myself properly,” Harry said,
still sniggering.
Draco looked down and realized his shirt buttons weren’t matched up with the proper
buttonholes. He shot a glare at Harry before concentrating on his buttons. Finishing, he went
back to ranting at Harry.
“It’s bad enough that you’re taking her to the Weasley’s,” Draco sneered in disgust. “I’ve
been nice and haven’t said anything about that. But then you add insult to injury by trying to
change her name. It’s just not proper.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “All right, all right, calm down,” he said, placating.
Draco scowled. “Her name is Victoria Analissa Malfoy,” he said firmly. “Use Victoria or
Analissa, that’s it.”
“Fine,” Harry grumbled. He knew Draco could be far worse when it came to any mention of
the Weasleys and he was actually allowing Harry to take Victoria there. Harry wasn’t willing
to push the issue any further, especially not at the moment.
He left Draco to play with his daughter for a bit while he packed a bag for her. He was
nervous as hell about taking her out anywhere, and that didn’t even take into consideration all
the questions and lies. He also went downstairs and managed to talk to his aunt before Uncle
Vernon or Dudley showed up. He explained what the lie was regarding Victoria and she
grudgingly agreed to cover if any of Harry’s friends showed up again.
Winky came back with breakfast, and Harry explained the situation to her, before leaving
with Victoria—Draco giving him about a dozen final warnings ranging from her name to
bringing her back safely. Harry left Draco with only one warning—to talk to his mother.
*****
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Notes

Chapter Eleven
Determined not to do anything to harm Victoria, Harry concentrated extra hard on his
Apparition, while holding onto her tightly. Opening his eyes, he was grateful to see the
Weasley’s backyard, and that they had both arrived safely with no body parts missing.
Taking a deep breath, he knocked once before entering the Weasley’s kitchen.
“Harry! We’ve been so worried,” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed upon seeing him. She went to
squeeze him in a hug until she registered the baby he was holding. She paused and stared in
disbelief. It gave Harry that extra moment to realize they were the only ones in the kitchen so
far.
“Harry,” Mrs. Weasley said slowly. “Where did you get a baby?” she asked.
“Mrs. Weasley, this is Victoria,” Harry said cheerfully.
Just then, the door to the hallway flew open and Hermione came rushing in. “Harry! I thought
I heard Mrs. Weasley call your name.” She screeched to a halt in front of him, much like Mrs.
Weasley had.
“That’s a baby,” Hermione said, blinking in amazement at Victoria.

“Very observant,” Harry said, sniggering at his friend.
She glared at him. “Where’d you get a baby?” she demanded.
“That’s what I’d like to know,” Mrs. Weasley said sternly.
“Her name is Victoria,” Harry said again for Hermione’s benefit. “And I’m watching her for
the time being. You know how my aunt feels about babies being dumped on her doorstep,” he
said with a grimace.
“She was dumped at the Dursley’s house?” Hermione asked, outraged. Mrs. Weasley looked
like she would explode at any moment.
Harry shrugged helplessly. “Her family are victims of the war,” he said quietly. Which, he
reckoned, was true enough. Her mother and maternal grandparents had been killed, and her
father and paternal grandparents were Death Eaters. That qualified as making them all
victims of Voldemort in Harry’s book.
“Victoria was brought to my aunt’s house for now, until there is somewhere safe for her to
go,” he added.
Harry was quite pleased with himself. So far, he technically hadn’t lied at all. He’d been
seriously misleading, but he hadn’t outright lied.
“Oh, the poor thing,” Mrs. Weasley said, reaching for the baby now. Victoria didn’t want to
go, though, and started crying.
Harry shushed her. “Shhh, its okay, Victoria. This is Mrs. Weasley and she knows all about
babies,” he said reassuringly. He hoped his tone helped, because he knew she didn’t
understand the words. She quieted down, but still clung tightly to Harry.
Mrs. Weasley backed off, but gave Harry an odd look. “How long have you been taking care
of her, Harry?” she asked.
“Um, about a month,” Harry admitted.
“A month?!” Hermione shrieked in astonishment. “Why didn’t you tell us before?!”
Victoria started crying again and Harry glared at Hermione as he bounced Victoria, trying to
calm her again. “Could that be a reason?” he asked sarcastically.
Hermione looked chagrined at causing the baby to cry. “I didn’t mean to upset her,” she said
quietly. Then she glared at Harry. “But you should have told us,” she snapped. “No wonder
you’ve wanted to stay at the Dursleys longer.”
“I didn’t know how long this was going to last,” Harry said, still bouncing. “I still don’t know
how long, but while she needs care, I don’t intend to just abandon her with the Dursleys.”
“She’s quite attached to you already,” Mrs. Weasley said. “It’s common when they’re this age
to be a little more fearful of strangers.”
“Lovely,” Harry muttered. “And I thought this would be a nice outing for her.”
“She’s been cooped up with the Dursleys?” Mrs. Weasley verified.
“Yeah,” Harry mumbled.
“Then this will be a good thing for her,” Mrs. Weasley said firmly. “She needs to get out and
meet people and be exposed to lots of different things. Are you hungry?” she asked, changing
the subject.
“Yeah, I’m starved actually,” Harry answered. “I’ve been up since about four, but I’d been
asleep since yesterday morning.” He looked at Hermione. “My aunt left me a note saying
you’d stopped by,” he said. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you, but was too tired to think to
send you a note telling you everything was fine.”
He paused, glancing at the baby for effect. “I just had to hurry to get back to the Dursleys,
and I hadn’t known exactly what was wrong at the time.”
“Was Victoria okay?” Hermione asked worriedly, making the assumption Harry wanted her
to.
“Yeah, but I didn’t get to sleep until after seven o’clock,” he admitted, still trying to stick
with the truth as much as he could. He was feeling guilty enough as it was.
“Is she teething?” Mrs. Weasley asked, back in her position in front of the stove.
“Yes,” Harry said with a grimace. “I don’t reckon you know how I could help her with that,
do you? The Muggle methods just aren’t cutting it.” Harry and Mrs. Weasley both winced at
his choice of words.
“Cutting teeth is no fun,” Mrs. Weasley said in sympathy. “After breakfast, I’ll see if I can’t
dig up my old books about baby care for you,” she said.
“Thanks,” Harry said. “I’d appreciate it.”
Harry sat down with Victoria, while Hermione started setting the table. He found it
amazingly easy to deflect questions, for the most part saying he didn’t know. They were
surprisingly easy to convince, but then, they knew about Harry’s history with the Dursleys.
Of course the Dursleys wouldn’t fill Harry in on anything important.
It also helped that Harry could easily talk about how he didn’t want Victoria growing up
without her family or someone who cared for her. Mrs. Weasley and Hermione had just
looked at Harry sympathetically.
Harry was pleased that he was pulling this off, but he could feel the guilt stirring in his gut.
What would the Weasleys and Hermione say if they knew Victoria was actually a Malfoy?
What would they say if they knew that he’d left Draco Malfoy in his room? That he’d slept
with Draco?
Harry himself shied away from that little topic. He was thankful when more Weasleys
trooped into the room for breakfast, and even more grateful when Mrs. Weasley and
Hermione helped field the barrage of questions.
Mr. Weasley managed to pull out a baby’s feeding chair from somewhere, and Harry
managed to coax Victoria into it. She was happy enough as long as she was remained next to
Harry, although she kept watching everything going on around her. Harry concentrated on
trying to stuff his own mouth while feeding Victoria. He fed her bites of porridge and gave
her a piece of toast to mangle and gnaw on.
“You’re quite good at that,” Hermione said in amazement.
“Good at what?” Harry asked in confusion, feeling like he’d missed something.
“Well, taking care of a baby,” Hermione said, frowning a little. “I mean, you just seem so
natural feeding her without even thinking about it.”
Harry started laughing. “You should have seen me before,” he said. “I’m definitely not a
natural at this. I just had to learn fast so she didn’t suffer.”
“What are you going to do when you leave the Dursleys?” Ron asked. “It’s not like you can
take the baby with you.”
Harry frowned. He didn’t have a clue as to what he was really doing, but he knew he was
taking Victoria with him to Grimmauld Place. He’d told them Aunt Petunia had watched her
while he’d been involved with all the battle stuff and Order meetings. He wasn’t about to tell
them he had Winky’s help. In fact, the Weasleys still thought Harry was coming to move in
with them on his birthday.
“I don’t know,” Harry said quietly. “I might just stay at the Dursleys a little longer.”
“You can’t do that!” Ron exclaimed, outraged on Harry’s behalf.
“We can’t even get in to see you when you’re there,” Hermione muttered, sounding frustrated
and seemingly in agreement with Ron.
“It’s not been so bad this summer,” Harry said.
“Not so bad! They treat you something awful!” Ron shouted.
“Ronald! Quiet down!” Mrs. Weasley commanded, but it was too late and Victoria was
crying again.
Harry glared at Ron before he turned to pick up Victoria.
“Sorry, mate,” Ron mumbled apologetically.
“She’s just not used to this,” Harry said. “I have no idea what it was like for her before, but
it’s actually been pretty quiet at the Dursleys.”
It had been real quiet, considering the Silencing Charms on Harry’s room and often around
Victoria’s cot or Harry’s bed. It got interesting with so many of them essentially living in that
one small room.
Harry grabbed some more toast, handing half a piece to Victoria before taking a bite out of
the other half himself.
“You know she’s getting that mushy toast all over you, don’t you?” Ron asked, grimacing in
disgust.
Harry shrugged. “Yeah, she tends to drool on me a lot, too,” he said. “We both wash.”
He noticed Mr. and Mrs. Weasley both smiling. “Let me go find you those books, Harry,”
Mrs. Weasley said, standing up from the table. “I believe you’ll also find the cleaning charms
quite helpful.”
Harry nodded gratefully. Anything would be helpful at this point.
They ended up migrating from the kitchen to the backyard with a large blanket that Mrs.
Weasley gave Harry. The girls spread it out for him, and he plopped Victoria down on it.
Harry thought it was funny when Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all sat down on different edges
of the blanket. Victoria wouldn’t get too far without someone there to stop her.
He watched her crawl around happily in the sunshine. She tended to stay close to Harry, and
he let her check out the grass on the side, but she didn’t seem to trust the prickly stuff.
“With that hair, she looks almost like she could be yours,” Ginny said, grinning at Harry.
“I know,” Harry said ruefully. “I’m hoping when the poor girl’s hair grows out that it’ll lie
flat for her.”
“She definitely doesn’t have your eyes, though,” Hermione pointed out.
Harry sighed, knowing whose eyes she did have. He didn’t think even Hermione could have
made the connection to Draco, but he knew how to deflect this one, just in case. “She’s got
the same colour eyes as Sirius did,” he said quietly.
“Oh,” Hermione said, wide-eyed. “I’m sorry, Harry. I forgot.”
“It’s okay,” Harry said, shaking his head.
“I didn’t think grey eyes were that common, but it’s an especially interesting combination
with her dark hair and then such light coloured eyes,” Hermione said, resorting to rattling off
pointless knowledge. Harry wouldn’t be surprised if Hermione was soon looking up eye
colours, simply because she didn’t seem to have all the answers about it.
“How come she’s so pale?” Ron asked.
“She’s been stuck inside, Ron,” Hermione said with a roll of her eyes.
Harry had to wonder if that’s all it was, considering how pale Draco always was. Surely
Draco got out into the sun once in a while, but he still always seemed awfully pale.
“Anyway, now that you’re here, Harry, I can fill you in about Fawkes,” Hermione said
briskly.
Harry startled. “I don’t even know where Fawkes is,” he said. He’d been so busy and then
he’d been asleep for so long. He was ashamed to realize Fawkes had been out of sight, out of
mind. A low trilling above them had them all turning their gazes skyward. Moments later,
Fawkes landed heavily on Harry’s shoulder.
Harry petted the brilliant plumage. “I’m sorry, Fawkes,” he said. “I’ve been a little busy.”
Fawkes trilled a couple of notes, and Harry wondered if that meant he was forgiven. He
suddenly had a lap full of Victoria as she tried to get closer to the colourful bird that had
captured her attention along with everyone else’s.
“No, Victoria,” Harry said. “I can’t let you grab hold of Fawkes, but I’ll help you pet him.”
He carefully lifted Victoria in his arms and held her wrist and hand so that he could guide her
hand gently across Fawkes’ feathers. “Soft,” he said, watching her smile in delight.
He set her back down on his knee, opposite from the shoulder Fawkes was currently resting
on. Harry then looked to Hermione who’d been quietly watching. “So, what do I need to
know?” he asked.
Hermione shook her head, still looking a little awed by the interaction between Harry,
phoenix and baby. “For one thing, it would seem that Fawkes is attuned to you now,” she
said. “He came when you needed him at the meeting, and he came when you mentioned him
now.”
“I think he came to the Order meeting because of what I had said regarding Dumbledore,”
Harry said.
Hermione was shaking her head, though. “That might have been part of it, but I’d be willing
to bet you were thinking about Fawkes at the time,” she said.
Harry frowned as he thought about it. He didn’t remember thinking about Fawkes, but he had
to admit that was the type of thing he’d said in the Chamber of Secrets when Fawkes
appeared. “Not really, but I suppose so,” he said doubtfully.
Hermione let out an exasperated sigh at Harry’s waffling answer. “Just trust me on this,
Harry,” she said. “Fawkes will now come to you when you call for him. He’s his own
creature, but for all intents and purposes, he’s yours now.”
“Why? How?” Harry asked bemusedly.
“Phoenixes choose their owners and he’s chosen you as his new owner,” Hermione said.
“He’s likely gone through a mourning period, and now he’s yours. Provide him with a space
of his own wherever you are at, and he will likely stay there close by.”
Harry listened as she went on describing more about phoenixes in general. Most of it wasn’t
really stuff he actually needed to know, and Harry was again amazed at how much sheer
knowledge Hermione could rattle off.
He wondered if it was a little immature of him that he was most fascinated with the fact that
he could get Fawkes to deliver messages at a moment’s notice, provide warnings, and carry
several people with his tail feathers—all things he’d seen Fawkes do in the past. He could
care less about the history of phoenixes. The burning information would likely prove useful,
but it wasn’t like that happened often.
Really, it sounded like all he had to do was provide a home, as such, and attention. Harry
received all the benefits. He did feel a bit awed that Fawkes had chosen him, but he wasn’t
likely to dwell on it much. He gave a mental shrug. He was kind of used to bizarre things
happening to him. He was pretty sure Hermione was much more fascinated with all of it than
he was.
He understood the important part—home and attention. He could do that. Harry continued to
absently stroke Fawkes’ feathers, while Hermione droned on. Victoria had given up on trying
to reach the bird and had ventured out again. Harry grinned, watching Ginny scoop the little
girl up.
“Harry! Are you even listening to me?” Hermione asked suddenly.
Harry, and Ron, startled at the tone in Hermione’s voice, causing Ginny to laugh and
Hermione to glare. “This is important, Harry,” Hermione said.
“It’s unique and intriguing,” Harry said, nodding at her.
“You haven’t heard anything beyond those words, have you?” Hermione asked wearily.
Harry wasn’t about to say that those words out of Hermione’s mouth usually meant she was
likely the only one to be fascinated by whatever it was she was talking about. Certainly,
Harry and Ron weren’t usually as fascinated. “Home and attention,” he said, in a hopeful
tone.
“Yes, I reckon that’s what you need to know,” Hermione said, giving up.
“I’m sorry, Hermione,” Harry said, actually feeling a bit bad. “It’s just that I’ve got so much
going on in my mind lately, and there just doesn’t seem to be room for more.”
“No room for useless facts,” Ron muttered. Obviously he hadn’t meant it to be overheard
because he appeared startled when Hermione transferred her attention to him.
“Ron! They’re not useless facts,” Hermione said sharply. “You never know when we might
need the information.”
Harry grinned, happy she was yelling at Ron now instead of him. He could almost pretend
they were on the Hogwarts grounds arguing over assignments. Of course, he had a phoenix
still resting on his shoulder and a baby in his care that somewhat ruined the effect.
His grin dropped into a sigh. He really didn’t have time to daydream. If they would ever have
a chance to just be students at Hogwarts again, he had a war to win first. Checking his watch,
he realized he’d better be leaving. He had to drop Victoria, and maybe Fawkes, off at the
Dursleys before running to Hogwarts to talk with Madam Pomfrey about potions. Then he
still had to meet Snape at Grimmauld Place and sort out more potions.
That didn’t even take into account his Draco problems or anything remotely to do with the
Horcruxes. Harry was taking on tasks as fast as he delegated. He knew he surely must have
been accomplishing something so far this summer, but right at the moment he was having
trouble figuring out exactly what that was.
He wasn’t exactly joking when he told Hermione he didn’t have room in his head for
anything else at the moment.
“You all right, Harry?” Hermione asked quietly.
Harry looked up and realized all three of his friends were watching him worriedly. He gave
them a small smile. “I’m fine. Just have a lot on my mind.”
“Have you made any progress?” Hermione asked.
Harry shook his head. “No, not really,” he said. Which wasn’t exactly true. He had had some
quiet time at the beginning of the summer and thought of a few possibilities, but he certainly
hadn’t had a chance to check anything out. It wasn’t like they could really talk about it in
front of Ginny anyway.
“We haven’t been able to come up with much, either,” Hermione admitted. “We didn’t quite
have the same access to information as you did.”
Harry was grateful she didn’t sound accusing. He’d told them absolutely everything he knew
regarding the Horcruxes, but she was right. They hadn’t had the actual conversations with
Dumbledore or seen the memories themselves. He wasn’t sure it really made much
difference, though. The problem seemed to lie in being able to think like Voldemort. Or
rather, think like Tom Riddle.
“We’ll talk more later,” Harry said. “I’ve got to be getting Victoria back.”
Hermione’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You still need to make a trip to Hogwarts as well,
don’t you?”
“Yes,” Harry said evenly, moving to stand up, an interesting thing to do while trying not to
dislodge a phoenix. He wasn’t about to mention that he’d already retrieved the book. But he
needed to keep up appearances, and he needed to talk to Madam Pomfrey anyway.
Hermione pursed her lips in disapproval, but didn’t comment. She wouldn’t override
McGonagall’s decision. Harry fleetingly thought he was going to have to get McGonagall on
his side more often.
Harry left the Weasleys with the shrunken perch for Fawkes that McGonagall had conjured
and a set of child care books. He wasn’t at the Dursleys long. He got Fawkes settled, who
appeared after Harry got the perch set up for him. Harry stared in wonder at the sight of the
large phoenix in his room for a couple of minutes. Finally, though, he settled Victoria in with
Winky, then left again.
A quick trip to Hogwarts where he got a list of needed potions from Madam Pomfrey and he
was headed for Grimmauld Place, not quite knowing what to expect once he got there. He
dragged his heels down to the kitchen, expecting, and finding, Snape rifling through boxes
once he got there.
Snape looked up and sneered at him as he stepped into the room. Harry groaned inwardly. He
had the feeling he was the one who was going to be punished for Draco’s disappearance.
“We need to set up a lab here, Potter,” Snape said curtly.
Harry nodded, actually grateful. “I just don’t know where would be the best place, otherwise
I would’ve had Winky cleaning up an area this morning,” he said.
Snape paused and gave Harry an odd look. “Your house elf has taken whatever instructions
you apparently gave her and decided to scrub down the entire basement floor of this house,”
he said.
Harry frowned at him in confusion.
“This kitchen is large, but surely you did not think it was the only room in the basement?”
Snape questioned.
“This is one place I explored as little as possible,” Harry said with a grimace.
Snape led him to a door off to the side of the pantry that Harry had never paid attention to
before. “Why don’t I remember this door?” Harry asked.
“There was a cabinet in front of it previously,” Snape said curtly.
They stepped through into a short hallway with one door on the left and one at the end. Snape
opened the first door and Harry was faced with one huge mess of junk. Piles of stuff
everywhere, broken furniture, and many things Harry wasn’t sure he wanted to know what it
was. He looked to Snape for an explanation.
“This was probably a storage room to start with, but it also appears to be where your house-
elf has chosen to place anything questionable at the moment,” Snape explained. “This room
has not been cleaned, merely added to recently.”
Harry quickly shut the door. He didn’t remotely want to have to deal with anything in that
room. He followed Snape to the last door. Snape opened it and stood to the side while Harry
walked in.
Harry stared in amazement. “What is this room?” he asked.

“Often in the past, potions were questionable when bought. Over time, the Ministry enforced
stricter guidelines on potions that could be sold to the general public,” Snape said, clearly the
professor at the moment. “Many of the rich, pureblood families would hire someone to brew
potions for them, someone they could trust not to poison them. The room being used for
storage would be their living quarters and this room, their potions lab.”
Snape gazed at Harry. “It would appear that you mentioned to your house-elf that you needed
a place to brew potions. She is far more knowledgeable of the old customs than you are,” he
said disdainfully.
Harry scowled. “Then it’s a good thing I’ve got her helping me,” he snapped.
“Indeed,” Snape said evenly. “I believe she took anything that was being stored in this room
and added it to the other.”
Harry ignored the glare he was receiving and looked around the room again. Half the room
looked ready for a potions lab to be set up. There were several storage cupboards for
ingredients and supplies and shelves with glass doors ready for finished potions. Two long
workbenches were in place.
On the opposite side of the room, it looked similar to a sitting room. It probably had been in
the past, Harry realized. Their new storage room had most likely just been a bedroom. Here,
there was a large fireplace and some comfortable seating. Off to the side was a large desk.
There were many bookshelves around the room and Harry had to wonder if Winky had
arranged all this throughout the morning, particularly after seeing everything Harry and
Snape had left in the kitchen. When he’d decided to take Victoria with him, he’d sent Winky
back to work on “whatever” she felt was necessary.
Harry glanced warily at Snape. “So, are you okay with setting up your things here?” he
asked.
“Do I have any choice, Potter?” Snape asked coldly.
“Yes, you have a choice,” Harry snapped. “I asked you for the help with the potions because
you are the best, but I do have other resources to help me with them. We both know that this
is my house now, whether I wanted it or not, and I’m sure you absolutely hate the fact that
you are here at all,” he said, trying to stay calm. “But you belong here as much as I do. That’s
why Dumbledore set it up that way.”
He gestured around the room. “This looks like it was designed practically with you in mind,
but if you truly wish not to be here, then by all means, make that choice.”
Harry took a deep breath, trying to ignore the glare he was receiving. “You’re not a servant
here. Voldemort may treat you as such, and unfortunately, I know Dumbledore likely often
made you feel that way,” he said bitterly. “Always doing what he wanted because he gave
you little choice.”
“But you’re not a servant here,” he said firmly. “I’m not ordering you to help me with the
potions. As if I even could order you to do anything,” he said, snorting at the ridiculousness
of that idea. “I’m just looking for a sort of . . . partnership?” he said, unsure of what to call it.
Snape stared at him for so long that Harry had to force himself to stand still instead of
squirming nervously.
“Does Pomfrey need potions immediately?” Snape asked suddenly.
Harry started after the long silence and quickly fumbled in his pocket for the parchment with
the list she’d given him. He handed it over to Snape once he’d found it. “I told her it would
probably be a few days before I could get any to her and she said that she’d be fine until
then,” Harry said quietly.
“Very well, then,” Snape said. “Let’s get everything in here,” he ordered.
Harry breathed a soft sigh of relief as he went to start bringing all the boxes into the room. He
quietly followed the orders Snape snapped at him. Mostly he worked on putting books onto
shelves where Snape directed him to, while Snape worked on putting away the potions
ingredients and supplies.
Harry was only half finished when Winky popped in beside him.
“Master Harry,” she said, glancing nervously at Snape who was glaring at her for
interrupting.
“What is it, Winky?” Harry demanded.
“A message for you, Master Harry,” she said anxiously, handing him a small slip of
parchment.
Harry took the note from her, grateful that Snape didn’t know that there was only one
possible person it could be from. He read the note quickly, paling as he did so. “I’m going to
kill him,” he muttered. He glanced up at Winky. “Bring me my cloak,” he ordered. “Then tell
him I’ll be there shortly.”
Winky nodded as she popped out.
“What is the problem, Potter?” Snape demanded, as Harry took out his wand and burned the
note.
“I’ve got to go,” Harry said shortly, ignoring the question. “I’m sorry I’m not finished, but if
you put the boxes in front of the shelves where you want them, I’ll come back and finish
later.”
Winky popped back with his Invisibility Cloak before disappearing yet again.
“Potter!” Snape commanded, halting Harry in his progress to the door.
“What?” Harry snapped angrily, whirling to face Snape. “I don’t have time for you to
interrogate me right now.”
“What kind of trouble are you into now, Potter?” Snape asked coldly.
Harry laughed harshly. “You mean other than the trouble of working with a man the entire
Light side wants to find and capture, if not kill?” he asked. “You mean other than the trouble
of trying to take care of a baby while trying to fight a war? Yes, I’ve got lots of troubles and
Merlin knows how many secrets, one of which I need to deal with right now.”
He turned and ran out, ignoring Snape’s shouting. Harry Apparated a little further away from
the house than he would normally, threw on his Invisibility Cloak and snuck around to the
spot him and Draco usually used as an Apparition point. It was more convenient as they
could sneak around to the back of the house without being quite as visible to outsiders.
“Mum, he’ll be here,” Draco whispered.
“Draco, how can you be sure he won’t be bringing the Aurors with him?” Narcissa asked.
“He just won’t,” Draco snapped irritably. “I’ve told you, I trust him.”
“I’ve told you to trust no one,” Narcissa said coldly.
“And I don’t,” Draco said. “Except him,” he added.
“Draco, I’ve never known you to be so foolish,” Narcissa said, her tone turning anxious.
“I’m not being foolish,” Draco said angrily. “I feel like I’m making the smartest decision I’ve
ever made.”
“Where is he?” Narcissa asked, sounding like it wasn’t the first time she’d asked.
Harry drew back his cloak, glaring at Draco. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re
doing?” he hissed angrily.
Draco instantly looked relieved. “I brought my mum to see Victoria,” he said.
“You brought your mum for a bloody social call?” Harry asked incredulously.
“You told me to talk to her and so I did,” Draco retorted.
“You weren’t supposed to bring her here,” Harry said furiously.
“She insisted on it,” Draco said defensively. “What was I supposed to do?”
Harry knew Narcissa was watching them both with ever-rising interest, but he continued to
ignore her.
“Amongst what I would have thought all the obvious reasons for not bringing her here,”
Harry said, glaring dangerously, “this was a really bad time for a fucking social call.”
Draco’s eyes narrowed. “Do you need to leave again?” he asked, and Harry detected the hint
of worry.
“No,” Harry admitted. “It’s too late now, and already I’ve got to make up another story when
I go back,” he said resentfully.
“Then bring us inside,” Draco said. “You know how dangerous it is to be out here.”
Harry finally turned to actually look at Narcissa. It was due to this woman and her sister that
Sirius was dead. It didn’t encourage fond feelings for her, but he’d known that he’d likely
meet up with her at some point if Draco could convince her to switch sides.
“I mean no harm to one who has protected both my son and my granddaughter,” Narcissa
said softly. “I only wish to see her.”
“And then what?” Harry asked coldly.
“Then, I do believe we will need to talk,” Narcissa said.
Harry groaned and smacked Draco’s arm when the other boy began sniggering. Narcissa
looked at them in confusion.
“This day started out so good,” Harry grumbled.
“Your day started out with me in your bed,” Draco smirked.
Harry flushed and glared at Draco. “That’s not what I meant and you know it,” he said.
Draco shrugged, unrepentant.
“Fine,” Harry said huffily, handing his cloak to Narcissa. He stalked out of the small alley
and to the edge of the Dursley’s property.
*****
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Notes

Chapter Twelve
Harry muttered the incantations that would allow Narcissa to enter the property, then stalked
up to the Dursley’s house with Draco and an invisible Narcissa following him. He continued
to mutter and curse under his breath, trying to figure out how he’d gotten himself into this
situation.
Narcissa took the cloak off as soon as she was inside the house, which was unfortunate as
Petunia stepped out of the kitchen to see who was entering.
“Harry?” Petunia questioned.
“This is Malfoy’s mum,” Harry said shortly. The situation was far too bizarre to even
contemplate normal introductions. He snorted in bitter amusement as he watched the two
women glaring distastefully at each other.
“You two have something in common,” he said maliciously. “You both raised spoiled sons
who took great pleasure in tormenting me my entire childhood. You should be congratulating
each other on a job well done.”
“Potter!” Draco hissed, as both women stared at him in shock.

Harry closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath, thinking he might have spent too long
around Snape that afternoon. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
“Your uncle will be home soon,” Petunia said stiffly.
“Lovely,” Harry muttered, turning and heading up the stairs. He entered his room and
dropped down on his bed with the intention of leaving Draco to introduce Victoria to her
grandmother.
It didn’t quite work out that way as Draco and Narcissa froze just inside the room, Fawkes
capturing their attention. Harry had to admit, Fawkes was an impressive bird, but he looked
completely out of place in Harry’s room. Winky quietly shut the door and brought Victoria to
Harry before moving back to sit on her small cot in the corner.
Draco finally tore his gaze from Fawkes to stare at Harry. “Where the fucking hell did you
get a phoenix?” he asked.
“He was Dumbledore’s,” Harry answered. “He seems to be mine now.”
“There appears to be more to you than I realized,” Narcissa said, looking at Harry in
amazement.
Harry shrugged off her words, but she didn’t seem willing to accept that.
“Mr. Potter, phoenixes will only bond to a very powerful wizard,” Narcissa said.
Harry shrugged again. He was pretty sure Hermione had said something to that effect. He’d
been told he was powerful before, but he wasn’t sure how much that really meant. He was not
quite seventeen yet and still had another year of schooling. It wasn’t like he was real
spectacular or something. Besides, it wasn’t something he felt like talking to Narcissa Malfoy
about.
“Don’t you care, Potter?” Draco asked incredulously as Harry remained silent.
“Care about what?” Harry asked. “Fawkes is only with me because Dumbledore left him to
me, or however that works. He’s with me because I’m the icon of the Light,” he said
sarcastically. “It has very little to do with my abilities as a wizard.”
Fawkes let out a trill that sounded like a reprimand, and Harry wondered how the phoenix
managed that, or if he was just hearing things. “Sorry, Fawkes,” he said anyway.
Draco let out a laugh that sounded a touch hysterical. He turned to his mum. “See what I
mean?” he asked.
Narcissa nodded slowly. “He is not what I expected,” she said.
“I don’t know what you two are talking about, but I am right here,” Harry said irritably.
“Having another bad day, Potter?” Draco asked, smirking at Harry in amusement.
“You could say that,” Harry muttered.
“You know, your manners leave much to be desired,” Draco said, pulling out the desk chair,
the only chair in the room, for his mum.
Harry snorted. “Forgive me for having trouble grasping the reality of entertaining Death
Eaters in my room at the Dursley’s house,” he said sarcastically. “I’m afraid it’s not within
my realm of experience. I’ve got no less than three Malfoys in my room,” he said, shaking
his head at that realization.
“Here,” he said, holding up Victoria for Draco to take her. “Introduce Victoria to her
grandmother.”
Narcissa hadn’t exactly been as cold as Harry remembered her, but he watched as she visibly
softened as Draco handed Victoria to her. Victoria didn’t seem too sure of the stranger, so
Draco held her but stayed close to his mum’s side. Harry watched wistfully for a few minutes
as Narcissa cooed at the baby, Draco animatedly telling his mum all about her.
Feeling like he was intruding, Harry lay back on his bed and closed his eyes, trying to tune
them out. He had to forcefully remind himself that Victoria wasn’t his. They were the ones
who were a family. He was just someone trying to provide care and protection for awhile.
Harry stood suddenly and kept his gaze averted as he left the room. He stopped at the bottom
of the stairs, realizing from the voices he heard in the kitchen that his uncle and cousin were
home. He could hear them telling Petunia all about their day as they ate dinner.
Harry hadn’t felt so alone in a long, long time. As if in a trance, he walked around the side of
the staircase and silently opened the cupboard door. He stared inside the small space,
realizing his old cot was still shoved in the corner. Stepping inside, he tugged at a small
section of the wall. It pulled away, and Harry shoved his hand in, pulling out a stack of paper.
“Potter?”
Harry whirled, banging his head hard on one of the overhead steps in the process. Wincing,
he glared at Draco.
“What are you doing in here?” Draco asked, glancing around the small cupboard, eyes
lingering on the cot and the hole in the wall.
“Nothing,” Harry hissed angrily. “Get out of here before my uncle catches us.”
Harry pushed Draco out of the way, stepped out and quietly shut the door before heading
back upstairs, extremely thankful they hadn’t attracted his uncle’s attention.
Draco was right behind him when he entered his room. “What are those papers?” Draco
demanded.
“They’re nothing,” Harry snapped, opening his trunk and stuffing them inside.
“They’re obviously something,” Draco retorted.

“No, they’re exactly that. They’re nothing,” Harry said bitterly.
“Potter, what are they?” Draco demanded.
“Just shut up, Malfoy!” Harry shouted angrily. “Maybe those damned papers are the reason
I’m fucking doing everything I can to fucking help you! Now, if you want me to help you,
then just leave it!”
“That used to be your room, wasn’t it?” Draco asked, ignoring Harry’s warning.
Harry glared furiously. “It’s none of your fucking business,” he said coldly.
Draco was glaring back at him and it was eerily similar to their old standoffs. Only normally
there weren’t any babies crying in the background. Harry suddenly whirled and realized
Narcissa was holding an extremely upset Victoria. Draco stalked over and took her from his
mother, then handed her abruptly to Harry.
Harry took Victoria automatically and started bouncing her, even as he looked at Draco
questioningly. “You can always calm her down,” Draco said, shrugging.
Harry sighed, feeling some of the anger drain away as he started talking soothingly to
Victoria, getting her to quiet down again. He sat down on the bed, leaning against the
headboard, Victoria cradled on his chest.
Between the knock on his head and the stress, his head was aching and he was sure it was
only going to get worse. He realized that he wasn’t exactly leaving Narcissa with a very good
impression. Insulting her by comparing her to a Muggle, fighting with her son, and making
her granddaughter cry couldn’t be helping to convince her to switch sides.
“Potter, you’re dripping blood,” Draco said.
“Am I?” Harry asked, uncaring. “Then that would explain why my head hurts.”
“You slammed it pretty hard,” Draco said, sounding concerned.
Harry snorted. “It’s not the first time, nor will it be the last,” he said.
“Let me look at it,” Narcissa said softly.
Harry looked at her warily, but sat up and turned slightly. He felt her hands gently probing the
edges of the wound. “I don’t believe it’s too serious. May I heal it for you?” she asked.
Harry closed his eyes. Did he trust this woman pointing a wand at his head? “If you would,”
he said.
He felt an odd tingling around the wound as she cast the same spell that Snape had taught
Harry.
“I can cast a cleaning spell in a few minutes when it’s healed completely,” Narcissa said.
“Thanks,” Harry muttered. He glanced at Draco and realized the other boy was giving him a
strange look. “What?” he asked defensively.
“How can you sit there so calmly and just let my mum heal you like that?” Draco asked.
“I’m not calm,” Harry retorted. “I’ve just got enough trouble trying to make sense out of
everything without dealing with a massive headache as well. Since your mum healed me
instead of trying to kill me, I gain two things. One, I can hopefully think again soon without
my head trying to explode. Two, I’ve learned I’ve at least got a shot at trusting her since she
managed to restrain herself from cursing me.”
“That’s a fucked up way of trying to figure things out,” Draco said.
“Agreed,” Harry said. “It’s not a method I’d use with just anyone, though. There’s no way
I’m letting your aunt anywhere near me with a wand if I have any say in the matter.”
“Probably a wise decision,” Draco admitted.
“Mr. Potter, you have nothing to fear from me,” Narcissa said quietly. “And you seem to
realize that already.”
She stepped forward again, checking Harry’s head before casting a couple of spells to clean
up the blood from his hair. She ran her fingers through Harry’s hair one more time, checking
that he was healed completely and all the blood was gone. “You’re healed, but a Pain-
Relieving Potion for the actual headache would help tremendously,” Narcissa said.
“I’m out of them,” Harry mumbled. “Still feels better, though.”
Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple vials, passing one of them to Harry.
“Here. I snagged a few potions earlier,” he admitted, glancing warily at his mum. “You didn’t
seem to have any more than what you used for me.”
Figuring Draco had snagged from Snape like he himself had, Harry pulled the stopper and
drank down the contents gratefully, immediately feeling the potion starting to work its magic,
literally.
“Draco explained to me how you healed him,” Narcissa said.
Harry shrugged. “Yeah, it wasn’t really a big deal,” he said uncomfortably. “It was just a
flesh wound.”
Narcissa glanced knowingly at her son, before looking back at Harry. “After what I just
witnessed, I do believe that you and Draco have different ideas of what constitutes a ‘big
deal’,” she said.
Harry quirked a grin at Draco. “Maybe,” Harry agreed, enjoying seeing Draco scowl at his
mother.
“I find it interesting that you say it was a simple wound, yet in the middle of the night, sought
out healing spells and potions,” Narcissa added, effectively wiping the grin from Harry’s
face.
“Look, I had to be out anyway,” Harry said. “I just picked up what I needed from Hogwarts
to be able to help him when I got back.”
“From what I understand, you’ve been helping Draco regularly for the last month,” Narcissa
said.
“Mrs. Malfoy, I’m really not in the mood to go through another Malfoy talk,” Harry said
wearily. “If you could just try getting to the point for me, I’d appreciate it. It’s already been a
long day, and I still have a lot to do.”
Narcissa’s brows arched in surprise and she smiled slightly. “You are not exactly the type to
woo others over to your side, are you?”
“No, I’m not,” Harry said seriously. “What you do, is up to you. I’m not about to try to take
that choice away from you, much as I’d like to,” he admitted. “What I will do, is offer you
whatever protection I possibly can if you do decide to switch sides.”
Narcissa glanced at her granddaughter, then her son. “You have helped Draco, even without
him switching sides,” she said quietly.
Harry hugged the now sleeping Victoria tighter to his chest. “Victoria needs her father,” he
said softly. “I’d rather not let this war take any more children from their parents if I can do
anything to prevent it.”
His eyes strayed to his trunk of their own accord. He lifted his gaze hurriedly only to be
caught by Draco. Harry’s chest hurt, and it had nothing to do with Victoria resting on him.
Draco slowly moved towards Harry’s trunk, and Harry felt powerless to stop him. He knew
that technically he could, but he just seemed to have lost his will to fight.
Narcissa lifted Victoria from his arms and laid her down in her cot, and Harry just let it
happen. Draco lifted the stack of papers and handed them to Harry.
Harry accepted them with shaking hands and began flipping through them. He hadn’t lied to
Draco. They were nothing. They were simply a child’s drawings, drawn with colour crayons.
Mostly stick figures, none of them at all good in an artistic sense.
But once upon a time, they were Harry’s pictures of his family. He spent a lot of time with
those drawings, because he had no real family to spend time with. He’d grown up and long
ago had forgotten about them, as they were just childish fantasy.
Most of the pictures were bright and colourful. Harry and his parents. A few even that Harry
knew were supposed to represent him and the Dursleys. Pictures with happy smiles and
bright yellow suns. The last picture was the same as the others, but Harry had taken a black
crayon and scribbled out all of the other people. He’d drawn a slashing frown on his own
stick figure face. He was left standing alone, surrounded by darkness.
It obviously hadn’t been one of his better days.

Harry’s expression hardened and he tossed the stack at Draco. “You wanted to see what they
were so bad,” he said harshly. “Take a look. That was my little fantasy family that I kept
hidden away for me alone. I’d forgotten about those drawings. Long before I moved out of
my cupboard, I’d given up on the idea that I’d ever belong to a real family.”
Harry glared at Narcissa. “I honestly meant what I said. It’s your choice what you do. I just
hope you make the right fucking choice for your family.”
“Believe me when I say there’ve been moments in the last six years since I found out about
the Wizarding world, when I’ve wondered if my parents made the right choice. If they’d been
supporters of Voldemort, would they have been alive today? Would I have grown up in a real
family being spoiled rotten like your son?” Harry asked, his voice harsh with barely
suppressed anger.
Narcissa and Draco were staring at him in shock. “Oh, believe me,” Harry said. “This isn’t
something I’ve ever mentioned to anyone else. It’s not something I’m proud of thinking, and
I admit, it’s not actually something I’ve thought about long. Ultimately, I’m proud of the
choice my parents made. But that doesn’t stop the longing.”
He heaved in a shuddering breath. “My point is this. Think damned hard about what you
really want. I can’t make you any promises. I know damned good and well that I’m only a
sixteen-year-old boy. Voldemort’s far older and far more experienced. He’s got a hell of a lot
going for him at the moment. Your family has been able to survive so far and at the moment
you are still on Voldemort’s good side. If you feel your chances of survival are better by
staying with him, then do it.”
Harry finally stood and walked to the door, before turning to glare at them both coldly. “But
I’ll tell you this. I don’t intend to fucking lose this war.”
He stormed out of the house, not knowing or caring where he was going. He was angry and
confused. And he knew he’d handled that incredibly badly. Finding himself at a good place to
Apparate, he went to Grimmauld Place, hoping like hell that Snape was gone by now.
He slammed the door on his way in, forgetting about Sirius’ mum hanging on the wall until
she started her shrieking. Instead of trying to shut her up, Harry matched her insult for insult,
shouting at the portrait. When that failed to satisfy him, he drew his wand and started firing
every curse he could think of at her. She simply shrieked louder.
Harry’s rage at the unfairness of the world simply seemed to build. The fact that nothing
harmed the portrait made him even angrier. He wanted to do damage.
“You filthy, evil creature! Vile scum!” Mrs. Black screeched.
“Evil?!” Harry shouted. “I’m not the one trying to destroy the world!” And he fired another
curse at the portrait.
“Desist filthy half-breed!”
“Fuck you!” Harry yelled. “And your bloody idiotic prejudices!”

“You dare befoul the house of my fathers!”
“Your fathers?!” Harry spat. “Are fathers only good in pureblood families?”
“Levicorpus!”
“I gather my father liked that spell! He was a bastard! He was a bastard but he still fucking
loved me! I know he did!” Harry shouted.
“By-product of dirt and vileness!”
“Shut up!” Harry shouted furiously. “Sectumsempra!”
“Dark Arts! Darks Arts again in the House of Black!” Mrs. Black shrieked, but she sounded
excited this time.
“Who bloody cares?” Harry shouted. “It’s just a fucking spell! It doesn’t even do any damage
to you!” he added bitterly.
“Crucio!”
“Not a bit of damage, but you make excellent target practice,” Harry sneered. “Bellatrix says
I’ve got to really mean the curse. I want Voldemort gone so fucking bad, I have no worries
about meaning it. I certainly don’t intend to make Dark Arts my next hobby, but you know, I
better fucking learn them at some point!” he shouted. “I’ve got to fucking kill Voldemort.
You hear that, bitch?”
“No, no! Filthy half-breed begone!”
“Avada Kedavra!” Harry shouted. He watched in shock as the portrait tumbled to the floor in
front of him. Stumbling back, he fell against the opposite wall and slid down it in disbelief.
Mrs. Black was still shouting, but the sound was muffled now as her portrait was face down
on the floor.
Hearing a sound, he looked up startled and wide-eyed as Snape stepped out into the open.
“It would seem that you have uncovered the key to the sticking charms in this house,” Snape
said conversationally. “It was unlikely any of those they saw as the wrong sort would ever
fire a Killing Curse, particularly at a portrait.”
Harry stumbled to his feet, hand over his mouth, and bolted for the loo. He proceeded to
empty the contents of his stomach and by the time he was through he felt like he had vomited
his actual stomach as well. He rinsed his mouth and stumbled to the kitchen, sitting down
heavily in one of the chairs.
“Drink this,” Snape ordered, setting a cup of tea in front of Harry. Harry wasn’t sure he dared
ask what Snape had added to it. Taking a tentative sip, he decided it tasted all right at least.
“That was quite an impressive display,” Snape said.

“I didn’t realize you were still here,” Harry said weakly.
“Would it have made any difference?” Snape questioned.
Harry thought about that for a moment while he drank another sip of his tea. “Probably not,”
he finally admitted. “But I was angry and came here because I thought I’d be alone.”
“When you received your message earlier, you were muttering about ‘killing him’,” Snape
said evenly.
Harry’s eyes widened to saucers. “I didn’t. I just . . . oh gods,” he said weakly. “I’ve just cast
the Killing Curse.”
“Successfully,” Snape agreed.
“I could’ve killed someone,” Harry said, feeling his stomach churning again. He glanced
down into his teacup, sure that whatever was in it was the only reason he wasn’t running to
the loo again.
“If you had been aiming at a person rather than a portrait, they would have been dead now,”
Snape said.
Harry swallowed heavily.
“I have again underestimated you, Potter,” Snape said, staring at Harry calculatingly. “Until a
short time ago, I have never truly believed you capable of being able to win this war.”
“You believe it now?” Harry managed to croak out.
Snape nodded once. “I have only seen one other driven as much as you,” he said quietly.
With sudden insight, Harry stared. “You,” he said faintly.
“Me,” Snape agreed.
*****
Harry dazedly let himself back into the Dursley’s house and climbed the stairs to his room.
Snape had ordered him to finish his tea and then sent him home to rest until the morning.
He hadn’t protested.
He stepped into his room and blinked in confusion for a moment. He’d somehow forgotten
about his full room. Draco, Narcissa, Victoria, Winky, Hedwig and Fawkes all turned to look
at him when he entered.
“Potter? You all right?” Draco asked, looking at him with concern.
Harry slowly met his gaze. “Not really,” he admitted.

Bemused, he allowed Narcissa to hustle him over to his bed. He looked at her with a bit of
alarm when she sat down beside him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
“What happened?” Narcissa asked.
Her question dropped him immediately back into his swirling concerns regarding the fact that
he’d managed to cast the Killing Curse. He didn’t realize that he lost what little colour he’d
regained.
“Have you ever successfully cast the Killing Curse?” Harry asked Draco abruptly, and
watched him turn white.
“No,” Draco said, voice barely audible. “You have to mean it.”
Harry nodded absently.
“Did you kill someone, Mr. Potter?” Narcissa asked evenly.
Harry grimaced, giving her a sidelong glance. Both Narcissa and Snape had managed to
calmly ask him that same basic question and he found it a little disturbing. He answered her
anyway.
“Just a portrait,” he said. “But the casting was successful. It was enough to get her off the
wall.”
“She’s finally off the wall?” Narcissa asked in amazement, clearly knowing what portrait
Harry was referring to. “I didn’t think it was possible.”
Draco looked at her sharply, but Harry managed a slight smirk. “Everyone tried, but she was
still stuck there.” He sobered. “I wasn’t even trying to get her down,” he said softly.
He looked at Narcissa. “I slammed the door and woke her up. I was just fighting with her
because she wouldn’t shut up. And we were both shouting, and I started casting curses. It
wasn’t like I was hurting anybody. And we fought about the Dark Arts and I just . . . I just
ending up casting the Killing Curse and she was down.”
He unconsciously leaned into Narcissa, accepting the comfort she seemed to be offering. “I
know I have to kill to end this war. It was just a bit of a shock to say the words and know that
I meant them,” he said.
There was a knock at the door and Harry sighed heavily. “What now?” he muttered, but he
stood to answer the door.
Aunt Petunia was about to speak to Harry when her eyes lit upon Harry’s fully occupied
room. It took her a moment to shake off her shock before she stared at Harry again. “You
have a visitor. I’ve refused to let him in the house, but he still insists that he must see you. He
said he’s the Minister of some sort,” she informed.
“Scrimgeour?!” Harry exclaimed.

Petunia nodded. “That was it,” she said.
“Oh, fuck!” Harry cursed angrily. “What the bloody hell does he want with me now?” He
turned to glance at Draco and Narcissa, who both looked shocked and angry at being
betrayed.
“I haven’t turned you in,” Harry hissed. “I don’t know why he’s here.”
Harry turned to Petunia. “Keep Uncle Vernon and Dudley away. I don’t care what you have
to do or how you do it, but do it,” he ordered
Petunia nodded and disappeared. Harry shut the door for the moment and stalked over to
Draco. “I haven’t turned you in,” he repeated firmly. “You said you trust me, so I need you to
actually prove it right now. Don’t do anything stupid. Just stay put and let me handle this.”
Draco finally nodded slowly and Harry could see him relax slightly.
“Mr. Potter, there is still blood on your shirt,” Narcissa said calmly, although her face was
white and pinched. “I believe it would be wise not to arouse suspicion.”
Harry twisted his head to try to see the back of his shirt, pulling it up. He yanked it off, and
Winky was already handing him a clean t-shirt. “Thanks,” he said, his voice muffled by the
new shirt being jerked over his head. Draco stepped forward and ran his fingers through
Harry’s hair.
“That’s not going to help!” Harry exclaimed, batting Draco’s hands away.
“Well, it doesn’t look like you just tugged a shirt on now at least,” Draco muttered.
Harry glared irritably. “I don’t want to face him with blood all over me, but otherwise I could
care less about my appearance.”
He opened the door, sighing heavily before making his way downstairs. He stepped outside
where Scrimgeour was waiting for him.
“What do you want?” Harry asked coldly.
Scrimgeour gave him a grim smile. “This isn’t the friendliest household, is it?” he said wryly.
“Just get to the point, Scrimgeour,” Harry said. “Why are you here? Or would the better
question be, what do you want with me now?”
“I had hoped that you might have changed your mind over the last month, now that you’ve
had a little time to adjust,” Scrimgeour said. He eyed Harry’s hard expression critically. “I
believe I may have been mistaken.”
Harry snorted. “I told you a month ago and I told you at Christmas. I’m not interested in
becoming your little icon to ‘boost morale’,” he said flatly.
“The people need you, Harry,” Scrimgeour said, his own voice growing colder and harder.
“You know, I do believe you’re right,” Harry said thoughtfully. “The people do need me
because I’m actually working to save their world. Unlike the Ministry, I really could care less
what my image is. I’m going out and getting the job done.”
Scrimgeour’s expression turned angry. “The Ministry is working very hard to save the
people.”
Harry snorted disparagingly. “Yes, that’s why you still have people like Stan Shunpike locked
up. Because you care about the people,” he said sarcastically. “That’s about image,
Scrimgeour. It’s not about the people. You wanting me to publicly align myself with the
Ministry is about image, not the people.”
“People need to have faith in the Ministry or things will be very bad indeed,” Scrimgeour
snapped.
“So give them a reason to actually have faith in the Ministry,” Harry said incredulously.
“Have you ever thought about going that route?”
Harry shook his head, still having trouble understanding this attitude. “There’s a reason
people followed Dumbledore, and it certainly wasn’t because he aligned himself with the
Ministry. It’s because he stood strong in his beliefs and wouldn’t allow people to sway him.
When things got rough, he would do something about them. He certainly wouldn’t hide
behind some safe image and do idiotic things like lock people up for no valid reason.”
He paused to gather his thoughts. “Scrimgeour, you are losing the faith of the people because
of your inability to take a stand. You wish to place a sixteen-year-old boy out in front and
think that’s going to make people have more faith in you.” He paused. “You’re probably
right, actually,” he admitted.
Scrimgeour only looked wary with Harry saying he was right about something, and Harry
smirked at him. “I have people who will follow me, because they see me actually working
my arse off to win the battles and the war,” he said. “I refuse to let the people see me
endorsing the Ministry’s actions, because it would cause people to lose faith in me.”
Scrimgeour took a deep breath. “I was afraid you would play hard ball,” he said. “I came
prepared to negotiate with you.”
“Negotiate how?” Harry asked suspiciously.
“It was brought to my attention late this afternoon that you have a baby in your care,”
Scrimgeour said, watching Harry closely.
Harry was unable to keep himself from stiffening. Mr. Weasley must have said something to
tip off the Minister, but it was obviously too late now to ask the Weasleys to keep quiet about
Victoria.
He glared at Scrimgeour. “You will leave that baby alone,” he said dangerously.
“That baby seems to have no history,” Scrimgeour went on, ignoring Harry’s warning. “It’s
quite suspicious and should be investigated further.”
“You think this is going to make me want to associate with the Ministry?” Harry asked
furiously.
“I am willing to negotiate,” Scrimgeour said coldly.
“You want to negotiate with people’s lives?” Harry snapped. “With a baby’s life?”
“If it is necessary for the greater good of the people,” Scrimgeour answered.
Harry whirled, slamming his fist into the side of the house so that he didn’t actually punch
the Minister for Magic.
“Now, Harry, is that kind of behaviour really necessary?” Scrimgeour asked patronizingly.
“It is if you want to keep your face intact,” Harry growled.
Scrimgeour actually took a step back in surprise. Harry sneered at him, his mind whirling as
he tried to figure out what to do.
“I am willing to file the paperwork, immediately, listing you as the father of that child. With
no further questions asked,” Scrimgeour said. “But you will come to the Ministry and give a
public speech, supporting the Ministry.”
“No, I will not support the Ministry in such a manner,” Harry snarled. “Especially a Ministry
that will use a child’s life as a bargaining tool.”
“Then I will be forced to take the child away,” Scrimgeour said.
“Fuck!” Harry exclaimed, running a hand through his hair in agitation, not realizing he was
spreading blood through his hair once again, this time from split knuckles.
“You have no idea what you’re interfering with,” he said furiously. “Why can’t you just leave
me alone and let me do my job and win this fucking war?”
“The public needs some kind of reassurance, especially now that Dumbledore is gone,”
Scrimgeour said, sounding slightly more sympathetic. “I am not actually enjoying this.”
Harry began pacing the yard, trying to decide what to do. Draco would kill him if he lost
Victoria. Draco wouldn’t be thrilled if Scrimgeour gave Harry custody, either. He was
damned if he was going to lose her to Scrimgeour, though. He’d done that article back in fifth
year which had reached the people. Could he do something like that again?
“Whose child is she?” Scrimgeour asked quietly, watching Harry in bemusement. “Where did
she come from?”
Harry realized that he’d played right into Scrimgeour’s hands. Scrimgeour may have hoped,
but hadn’t necessarily expected Harry to react so strongly to his threats. It was time to turn
the tables.
“Just like me, her family was killed and then she was dropped off here. She is another victim
of this war,” Harry said coldly. “The way I see it, you are behaving little better than
Voldemort. Attacking a child.”
Scrimgeour jerked back as if Harry had slapped him.
“Here’s the deal,” Harry spat. “You will provide me with paperwork that lists me as
Victoria’s godfather and gives me custody. I need to know that you won’t try to use her
against me again in the future and I will not let you take her away from me. Until such time
as this war is over, she will be known as Victoria Potter.”
“Being known as a Potter will help protect her in the eyes of the public,” he said coldly. “It’s
just too bad you’re forcing this out, because it’s just going to make her a huge target for
Voldemort. So, if you have any compassion at all, I suggest that when you file this
paperwork, you keep this quiet for as long as possible. Because if anything happens to that
little girl, I will come after your head first.”
Scrimgeour’s eyes were wide with disbelief. “You have no right,” he snapped.
“I have every right,” Harry declared. “You brought this on, not me. I managed to reach the
public,” he spat distastefully, “my fifth year. I’ll do it again. I absolutely refuse to publicly
endorse the Ministry’s actions. I will, however, refrain from publicly calling them out. I will
get an article out in which I’ll do my bloody best to reassure the people. But I will do it my
way, not yours. The public doesn’t trust your way. You want me to be an icon? Then let me
be an icon, not one of the Ministry’s toadies.”
“Speaking of, I don’t suppose you’ve gotten smart and gotten rid of Umbridge yet, have
you?” Harry asked angrily. “You clean up the Ministry’s employees, and release the people
like Stan Shunpike that you’ve wrongfully locked up, and I’ll even make a public comment
that the Ministry seems to be trying to make an effort.”
“If you don’t make an effort, you won’t get me saying that you are,” Harry said.
“You cannot dictate the terms like this,” Scrimgeour said coldly.
“Can’t I?” Harry asked dangerously. “You try taking Victoria away from me, and I guarantee
you that it will become public knowledge that you are using innocent babies as bargaining
material.”
“The public would not believe that of me,” Scrimgeour scoffed.
“There’s a reason you’ve been after me,” Harry sneered. “Who do you think they’ll believe,
you or me?”
Scrimgeour stilled, obviously realizing Harry was right.
“Do we have a deal?” Harry asked.

“You are ruthless in your bargaining, Harry Potter,” Scrimgeour said.
Harry simply nodded.
Scrimgeour exhaled heavily. “I will have the paperwork to you shortly listing you as Victoria
Potter’s godfather with full custody rights. I will begin proceedings to release the prisoners. It
will take much more time to work through the Ministry employees.”
“If you want real, honest help with that, then I recommend Arthur Weasley to help you,”
Harry said. “Not Percy Weasley.”
“Very well,” Scrimgeour said reluctantly.
“I will set things in motion tonight, but I will not have anything published until you work to
fulfill your end of the bargain,” Harry said coldly.
Scrimgeour studied Harry critically. “I have to wonder if I made the right decision to try to
confront you,” he said.
Harry shrugged. “If your true goal is to actually help the people and reassure them at the
same time, then you went about it the wrong way, but you’ll be getting results anyway,” he
said.
“Not many would dare to try to bargain with the Minister for Magic as you have,”
Scrimgeour said.
Harry smiled grimly. “Not many have the safety of the Wizarding world riding on their
shoulders.”
Scrimgeour appeared startled for a moment before he nodded. “You should be receiving an
owl shortly and I will keep you posted,” he said.
“Thank you,” Harry said, nodding in return.
“Best of luck to you, Harry Potter,” Scrimgeour said before he walked away.
Harry stared after him until he disappeared out of sight. Turning abruptly, he strode
determinedly back to the house.
*****
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Notes

Chapter Thirteen
Harry watched with little surprise as the door mysteriously opened for him. He stepped into
the house, the door shut behind him, and Draco slipped the Invisibility Cloak off.
“I can’t decide if you have everyone on your side . . . or no one on your side,” Draco said
bemusedly.
“Tell me about it,” Harry grumbled. Especially after the argument with Scrimgeour, he felt
like he had to fight for every bit of cooperation he got from his allies.
“I thought the Weasleys, at least, were on your side,” Draco said.
“They are,” Harry snapped. Draco surprisingly wasn’t sounding snide about the Weasleys,
but the comment still put Harry on the defensive. “I just fucked up and forgot to tell them to
keep quiet about Victoria. I don’t dare ask him about it, or it’d bring up more questions I
don’t want to deal with, but I’d be willing to bet that Mr. Weasley was simply bragging about
how proud he was of me for helping take care of her.”
Draco shook his head dismissively. “You probably couldn’t have given them a valid reason to
keep quiet anyway, not without raising suspicion.” He stared at Harry with admiration. “I’m
actually quite impressed, Potter,” he drawled.
“I am, as well,” Narcissa said, stepping forward.
Harry looked at them both warily. “You did hear everything, didn’t you?” he asked.
“Yes, my daughter will now be a Potter,” Draco said dryly.
“Well, what was I supposed to do?” Harry snapped, heading up the stairs. “It’s not like I
could give her real name. This way she’s at least protected from one side. If I gave her real
name, she’d likely be a target on both sides.”
Harry stepped into his room and went straight to his desk, searching for some clean
parchment, ink and quill.
“What are you doing now?” Draco asked.
“I’ve got to fulfill my end of the bargain,” Harry said absently.
“How?” Draco asked.
Harry found parchment, and started digging for ink. “I’ve got to write Luna first and get her
to set things in motion with her dad, and then I need to write Hermione and get her to contact
Rita so we can get an article going. Hermione will be able to help decide what should go
public and what shouldn’t.”
He paused thoughtfully. “Although, I’m going to have to figure out how to explain things
well enough to satisfy Hermione. She’s really going to be questioning why I agreed not to
attack the Ministry. It shouldn’t be too hard, though. She knows how I feel about family. I
don’t think she’ll question my motives too much,” he decided. “She’ll figure out what I
should say.”
The Malfoys remained quiet as Harry quickly dashed off both letters and sent Hedwig out
with them.
Harry sat down in the window after letting Hedwig out and turned to face Draco and
Narcissa. Narcissa was sitting primly on the edge of his bed, while Draco was sprawled out
comfortably. Harry snorted in amusement.
“Mrs. Malfoy, you really look out of place here,” he said ruefully.
She looked around briefly before meeting Harry’s gaze steadily. “I admit, this is not my usual
style, but I am grateful to you for making us welcome,” Narcissa said. “I have no cause for
complaint.”
Harry’s brow furrowed in thought. “You’re not quite what I expected,” he admitted.
“Then I believe that makes us even,” Narcissa said, smiling warmly at Harry. “You are not as
I expected, either.”
Harry shrugged, conceding her point.

“I believe you have earned my trust tonight, as you have earned my son’s trust, and my
granddaughter’s as well,” Narcissa said. “I believe my son is correct in that we should accept
whatever protection you can offer our family, and in turn, we will do anything that we can to
help you.”
Harry stared at her in surprise. It was what he wanted, but he still didn’t quite expect it to
happen.
She smiled at him sadly. “This is not a decision I’ve come to lightly, but in many ways, it is a
decision I have been working towards for a long time now,” Narcissa said. “I am not happy
with the Dark Lord using my son as he has.”
She paused, gazing fondly at Draco, and even Harry, for a moment. “I still think of you as
little boys, but it is clear that you are both strong young men, willing to do anything for your
families.” Narcissa looked at Harry. “You, Harry Potter, are willing to do anything for all
families,” she said. “I have great respect for that, and I admire your strength.”
Harry didn’t know what to say. The woman looked incredibly sad considering the words she
was saying.
“It’s a difficult decision, deciding to leave my home,” Narcissa said. “But it is a life of daily
fear to continue living there.”
Harry looked at her sharply, suddenly understanding something. “You feel by making this
decision, you are also leaving your husband,” he said.
“Yes,” she said softly, looking extremely pained with that admission. “You have no reason to
believe it, but Lucius is a good man. It is the Dark Lord who corrupts,” she said. “Lucius
believes in family above all else and I believe he was doing as you mentioned earlier this
evening. He made the choice to protect his family. He just made an incredibly different
choice from that of your parents.”
“Lucius is a cold-hearted bastard,” Harry said flatly.
Draco sat up straight, tensed and angry, but Narcissa stopped him with a gentle touch on his
arm.
“He’s a bastard,” Narcissa said with a slight smile. “Cold-hearted he is not.”
Harry went to run a hand through his hair in frustration, but his fingers caught on dried blood
which had stuck the strands of hair together. He looked at his hand in disgust, but otherwise
ignored it. “We’re not likely to agree about Lucius at the moment,” he said. “The last time I
saw the man he was trying to kill me.”
“He was following orders,” Draco said angrily. “And then you lost me my father.”
Harry’s expression hardened and he glared at Narcissa rather than Draco. “And I lost my
godfather,” he said.
Narcissa winced. The interaction caused Draco to pause and look at the two of them warily.
“It is worth nothing, but I am more sorry than you will ever know,” Narcissa said, tears filling
her eyes.
Draco looked alarmed, but he was ignored.
“You and your family have made some really bad choices,” Harry said harshly.
Tears beginning to overflow, Narcissa continued to meet Harry’s gaze steadily. “And we are
trying to finally make some good choices,” she said. “I know better than my son that you
have no reason to give us any kind of chance, but if you do, we will accept that chance with
the knowledge that it is a gift of life that you are offering.”
“I renounce the fear and ultimate death that up until this time the Malfoys have accepted,”
Narcissa said, sounding regal despite the tears still falling. “With your willingness, I wish to
pack whatever belongings I can, make financial arrangements, then leave the Dark Lord’s
service immediately.”
Harry stared at her in disbelief. “I don’t have anywhere for you to go yet,” he said. “All I’ve
got is this little room to offer at the moment.”
“Do you offer it freely?” Narcissa asked.
“Well, yes, I suppose,” Harry said in confusion. “But it’s dangerous for you here as well. You
saw Scrimgeour here tonight.”
“We will have to be more careful,” Narcissa agreed. “But when he was here, I was witness to
a young man who was willing to stand up to the Minister for Magic. A young man willing to
subject himself to situations he didn’t want, in part to help protect my family. That is the
young man I wish to follow. Not a Dark Lord who cares nothing for my family.”
Harry sighed wearily, feeling entirely overwhelmed. He was in way over his head and he
knew it. He had no idea how to approach the man, though, who would be able to help him
with this.
“I don’t want any followers,” he muttered.
Narcissa smiled through her tears. “No, I don’t suppose you do,” she said. “Which is all the
more reason to follow you.”
Harry looked at her in confusion. Her words were beyond his comprehension at the moment.
“Look, I’m trying to work on a safe place for all of us,” he said. “It’s just taking some time,”
he admitted. “I wasn’t joking when I said that for now we would literally all be stuck in this
one little room together. If you disappear, you become targets of Voldemort and you’re
already targets for the Light side. You will be stuck in this one little room and I can’t even
offer you the rest of this house,” he added bitterly.
“I recognize that,” Narcissa said. “However, I also recognize that it is safer here in this little
room than it is in the very large Malfoy Manor. This is not about comfort and luxury, as you
probably know and understand better than me.”
“Yes, I understand it,” Harry said. “I’m just not so sure two Malfoys can truly comprehend,”
he muttered.
“We will make do,” Narcissa said with a slight smile, before she sobered again. “I do
understand that technically we would both be more useful if we continued to remain where
we are. It would glean you more valuable information.” Her voice sounded questioning, as if
she was trying to determine if that’s what Harry really wanted.
“Maybe,” Harry said dismissively. “But Malfoy sucks as a Death Eater. He’s just likely to get
himself killed if he stays too long,” he said, completely serious.
“That’s one of my biggest fears,” Narcissa admitted. “It is not a life suited for my son, and
certainly not for my granddaughter. It is harsh and unforgiving. I do not wish to subject them
to it any longer.”
“All right, then,” Harry said slowly. He glanced around his room bemusedly. “I have no idea
how we’ll make this work, but welcome to my room.”
“Thank you, Mr. Potter,” Narcissa said graciously.
“Um, I’m going to be sharing my room,” Harry said. “Could you at least call me Harry?”
Narcissa smiled warmly. Standing, she moved to where Harry was sitting and pulled him into
a hug. “Thank you, Harry,” she said softly. “You may call me Narcissa.”
Harry hugged her back, feeling awkward, happy, and bemused by what was occurring.
She stepped back, and Harry realized Draco was watching and the emotions flittering across
his face seemed to be matching Harry’s, except Draco also added hope, and conversely, fear.
“Are we really leaving the Manor and moving in with Potter?” Draco asked his mum.
“Yes,” Narcissa said.
“Oh,” Draco said, seemingly at a total loss for words.
“I reckon you might as well call me Harry, too,” Harry said dryly. “Especially since I think
we’ll be sleeping together again.”
Draco was startled into laughter. “Looking forward to it,” he drawled.
*****
Harry finally fell into bed, realizing that the next night he would likely be sharing it with
Draco. Narcissa and Draco had left, declaring they would be back the next day, to stay. They
would likely get little sleep, for they intended to pack everything that they could. They would
go to Gringott’s first thing in the morning to withdraw funds and secure their accounts and
then they would be back to stay with Harry.
Harry lay there, trying to figure out what the hell he thought he was doing. It made no logical
sense whatsoever. He felt like he was being torn in a dozen different directions. Well, at least
a half dozen—Malfoys, Dursleys, Snape, Weasleys and friends, Scrimgeour, the Order, and
he couldn’t forget Voldemort.
He’d received the Owl from Scrimgeour. He was officially Victoria’s godfather. He’d stared
at the document for a long time before carefully tucking it away in his trunk.
He could practically hear Ron shouting in his head that he was bloody mental, and couldn’t
find it within himself to argue with that voice. It seemed his life just kept getting more
complicated by the minute.
He looked around the darkened room. Surely it must have been a dream—or a nightmare.
The Malfoys weren’t going to be moving into his room at the Dursley’s, of all places.
There was already his own bed, Victoria’s cot, and Winky’s small cot. He reckoned with a
little rearranging they could make things work—somehow. He knew it wasn’t a joke that he
and Draco would have to share. It was the only practical arrangement and they’d already
managed it once before. He wasn’t sure how he really felt about it, though.
Then again, he wasn’t sure how he felt about anything anymore. Events seemed to keep
spiralling out of his control. He found himself worrying about how Draco and Narcissa were
faring at the Manor. Then he started wondering how Snape was going to feel about their
disappearance. He still had no idea of how he was going to approach the man about this.
How was he supposed to explain that he had the Malfoys staying with him? Technically, he
still had no proof that it wasn’t all some elaborate hoax. He didn’t think Snape would take it
kindly that Harry was going with his gut instincts. Groaning, Harry buried his head under his
pillow and eventually he fell into an exhausted sleep.
*****
There was no sign of Draco or Narcissa before Harry had to leave to meet Snape at
Grimmauld Place. He did think to warn his aunt that they would likely be arriving at some
point, though. She hadn’t been pleased, but she had refrained from commenting.
Harry quickly discovered that Snape hadn’t arrived yet, and Harry couldn’t decide if that was
a good or a bad sign. He found instructions left out for him on the workbench in the new
potions lab. He didn’t know when Snape had left them, but it appeared he wouldn’t be
meeting Harry after all.
Feeling like he was in detention, he got to work finishing shelving all the boxes of books.
Then he set to work brewing potions, following the directions Snape had left for him. After
several hours of work, he cleaned up. Feeling anxious, he popped back to the Dursleys
instead of going straight to the Weasleys where he was supposed to be meeting Hermione.
He stepped into his room warily, not sure what to expect. He shut the door and leaned back
against it.
The room had been rearranged. Harry’s bed was now shoved in the far corner. There was a
new bed now in the opposite corner. Victoria’s cot was in between the two nightstands that
stood next to the beds. Winky’s cot was at the foot of Narcissa’s bed. Harry’s desk was at the
foot of his bed. Wardrobes flanked the doorway and a pair of comfortable looking chairs sat
next to both beds, facing each other. That left a narrow walkway down the middle, and a
small area for Victoria to play directly in front of her cot. Somehow, even Fawkes and
Hedwig had a space in the room, perched at the side of Harry’s desk.
Harry stared in disbelief. They couldn’t really be planning to live like this. It was temporary,
yes, but still. Narcissa was sitting in one of the chairs with Victoria on her lap. Draco was
sprawled on his stomach on Harry’s bed reading a book.
“Good afternoon, Harry,” Narcissa said pleasantly.
“Afternoon,” Harry said dazedly.
“You smell like potions,” Draco said, wrinkling his nose.
“Yeah, I’ve been brewing,” Harry said absently.
“I can’t help, can I?” Draco asked.
“Uh, not at the moment,” Harry admitted. “But hopefully soon.”
Harry looked between them warily. “So, um, I gather everything went okay, then?” he asked.
“If you mean leaving our home behind and everything we’re familiar with to come live in
this tiny room with you, then yes, it went okay,” Draco said, sounding resentful and bitter.
Harry sighed and looked down at his feet. He couldn’t really blame Draco for being upset
about it all. He knew that Draco was ready to switch sides, but it didn’t mean that it was an
easy adjustment.
“I’ll just go,” Harry said quietly, turning to leave.
“Harry, wait,” Narcissa said.
Harry paused and glanced at Narcissa. “There’s no reason for you to leave,” she said softly.
“I have to go to the Weasleys to sort out that article,” Harry said. “I just wanted to make sure
you got here okay.”
“We’re fine,” Narcissa said gently. “It’s just a bit of a shock.”
Harry refused to turn around and look at Draco, but he nodded to Narcissa in
acknowledgement. “I’m sure it is,” he said stiffly. “I’ll be back when I’m done.”
With that, Harry disappeared out the door quickly.
*****
“What exactly is going on, Harry?” Hermione asked. “There has to be a really good reason
you want to do one of these articles again.”
“I had a visit from Scrimgeour last night,” Harry said.
“What? Why?” Ron asked. “I thought you already told the git off last month.”
Harry shrugged. “He thought I’ve had ‘enough time to adjust’,” he said sarcastically.
“Bloody git,” Ron muttered, and Harry nodded in agreement.
“But why are you giving in to him at all?” Hermione asked, frowning in confusion. “You
didn’t before. It makes no sense to do so now.”
Harry shrugged again. “He was ready to bargain with me this time,” he said.
Harry watched their eyes widen and he smirked.
“You bargained with the Minister for Magic?” Ginny asked.
Harry nodded.
“Wow,” Ginny breathed.
“Well, tell us what you get out of this,” Hermione said, excited and impatient.
“Prisoners released that should never have been taken into custody,” Harry said casually. “A
few changes at the Ministry.”
“You’re joking!” Ginny exclaimed.
Harry shook his head, grateful that was enough in their opinions. Hopefully he could keep
secret for a while longer the fact that Victoria had been used as the major bargaining tool.
“What kind of Ministry changes?” Hermione asked.
“I’m not exactly sure,” Harry answered honestly. “I asked for a Ministry cleanup basically. I
told him to start by getting Umbridge out of there.”
“Bloody brilliant!” Ron said in awe.
Harry grinned, saving the best part of it for Mr. Weasley to tell them himself. He hoped
Scrimgeour actually followed through with that.
“Good,” Hermione said in satisfaction.
“So, have you sorted out my article yet?” Harry asked hopefully.
“Well, Ginny and I have been working on it almost all day,” Hermione admitted. “Since it’s
not really an interview, we thought we’d skip Rita this time and have you write the article
yourself.”
“I can’t write a bloody article!” Harry exclaimed.
“You don’t have to,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve been reading your assignments
for six years now. I think I can manage to write in a style that will sound like you.”
“Oh, well, okay then,” Harry said sheepishly.
“Hey, how come you’ll actually write this for Harry?” Ron protested. “You never write
anything for us.”
“This is different,” Hermione snapped. “This isn’t for a grade. This is to help boost morale.
You think we should actually rely on Harry to be able to do that?”
“Hey!” Harry protested automatically, and then thought better of it. “Wait, uh, never mind.
You just go ahead and do what you need to do.”
“That’s what I thought,” Hermione retorted.
“So, you and Ginny are going to write an article, but we’re going to pretend that Harry
actually wrote it. Then Luna’s going to get her dad to publish it,” Ron said, trying to clarify
things.
“Yes,” Hermione answered. “But Harry’s also going to read over it and change or add
anything first.”
Harry nodded. “I should be able to tell you here in a bit whether I’ll need to add anything
about the Ministry.”
Hermione frowned at him. “I thought we weren’t to say anything about the Ministry,” she
said.
Harry smiled at her mischievously. “Just tell me what you’ve got so far,” he said.
“Well, mostly we’ve just written stuff that we’ve heard you say before,” Ginny said.
“Like what?” Harry asked, thinking that covered a lot of territory.
“Like the fact that you refuse to let Voldemort win,” Hermione said. “And you don’t think
others should just sit down and admit defeat. That you think people should be studying
defence. We put in a paragraph talking about the extra defence you were teaching everyone,”
she added.
“That was over a year ago,” Harry said sceptically.
“Yes, but most people won’t know that,” Hermione said. “We didn’t lie, though. We just
pointed out that you taught and students learned.”
“We’ve added a few Dumbledore thoughts as well,” Ginny said. “Like not letting fear run
your life. And people shouldn’t fear a name.”
“It’s not a time to forget their children’s education,” Hermione said. “If Hogwarts does or
doesn’t open this year, make sure the children are still learning how to defend themselves.
We’ve added a bit about how sheltering children doesn’t help,” she said quietly.
“Good,” Harry said, nodding his head for emphasis. “Instead of being afraid of what’s
happening, we need to learn how to fight back. If we don’t, then Voldemort wins.”
“Oooh, that’s good,” Hermione muttered, her quill flying across the piece of parchment in
front of her.
Harry was a touch alarmed. He was very glad he was with his friends doing this, rather than
Rita Skeeter this time. Ginny looked amused, Ron simply looked on in bemusement.
“Let’s see,” Hermione said thoughtfully, her eyes skimming over what they had down on
parchment. “There’s also a bit about how you feel Dumbledore would be upset if you wasted
your time grieving, but how you intend to avenge his death.”
“No,” Harry said flatly.
The other three looked at him in surprise. “No?” Hermione asked.
“No,” Harry repeated. “This article is supposed to be about instilling hope in people. It’s not
supposed to be about vengeance.”
“But, Harry,” Ron protested. “People want to hear that you intend to avenge Dumbledore’s
death. They want to hear that you’ll get revenge on Snape for killing him. They want to hear
that you’ll get revenge on Malfoy for letting Death Eaters into Hogwarts.”
“No,” Harry said again. “People are getting enough news about killing and people dying,
everyday in the Daily Prophet. They should be told that there’s hope, not just plans for more
deaths,” he said flatly. “The people should know that I’m doing my bloody best to prevent as
many deaths as possible.”
“But what about Snape and Malfoy?” Ron protested angrily. “They deserve to die for what
they did. What they did to Dumbledore, to Hogwarts, to my brother!”
Harry ran both hands through his hair in frustration. Ron had every right to be angry. Harry
had been angry about it himself. There was a part of him that was still angry about all that.
“What do you want me to say, Ron?” he asked. “I’ll deal with Snape and Malfoy when I
come across them. But it has nothing to do with instilling hope and boosting morale! People
are already feeling the anger and fear, just as you’re feeling it. Do you want me to fucking
encourage people to rant and rage? I won’t do it!”
Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm down again. He was finding it extremely ironic that
he was supposedly writing this article to help instil hope and make people feel a bit calmer
while events in his life were making him feel like he was spiralling out of control. He was in
control, but he wasn’t.
“Harry’s right,” Ginny said quietly to her brother. “This isn’t about Bill. This is about trying
to help calm people’s fears, not encourage them. Replacing fear with anger will just get more
people hurt.”
“Yeah, all right,” Ron said grudgingly.
The conversation felt stilted as they tried to talk about the article again. Harry had felt
uncomfortable about the thing from the beginning. He was feeling miserable now. Somehow,
he felt like he was betraying Ron—and Bill—because of the things he was doing.
“How’s Bill doing?” Harry asked suddenly.
The other three stilled, and stared at Harry. This was one of those topics that everyone had
been avoiding. Harry hadn’t realized there was something really wrong, but from the way
Ron and Ginny had spoken, and the way they were all looking at him now, there was more to
it.
Ron’s face morphed into one of anger again and he abruptly stood and marched off. Harry
stared after him in concern and confusion.
“Bill’s not doing so well,” Ginny admitted quietly. “His wounds aren’t healing properly. He’s
been spending most of his time shut up in his room.”
“I didn’t realize,” Harry said, ashamed that he hadn’t even noticed Bill was missing the last
few times he’d been there.
“We thought you had enough to worry about,” Hermione said quietly.
“So you kept something like this from me,” Harry said flatly. He knew he didn’t have much
room to talk, considering all the secrets he was keeping, but it still bothered him that they’d
keep something like this from him. He couldn’t see a reason why Bill’s injuries needed to be
a secret.
Ginny and Hermione looked away, unable to meet his eyes.
“Why isn’t he healing properly?” Harry asked.
“Well, that’s not exactly true,” Hermione said. “He is slowly healing, but Greyback messed
him up pretty bad. It takes time and there was only so much Madam Pomfrey could do.”
“He should’ve healed by now, though,” Harry said, frowning.
“Greyback had some type of poison on his . . . claws,” Hermione said with a grimace. “It
took a long time to realize that Bill wasn’t healing properly, then to figure out why. He’s
healing now, but it’s still slow progress.”
Harry couldn’t get it out of his mind, even after the girls had changed the subject to more
pleasant topics. He remembered Madam Pomfrey telling him there was no charm to heal
Bill’s wounds. But there was a charm. He certainly didn’t want to get anybody’s hopes up if it
wouldn’t work, though.
Harry drifted through the rest of the evening. Dinner ended up being a pleasant affair. Ron’s
bleak mood lifted completely when Mr. Weasley came home, excitedly talking about how he
was now helping to screen through the Ministry employees. Ron, Ginny, and Hermione had
all looked at Harry suspiciously, but he just beamed brightly, happy for Mr. Weasley. Also
happy that something positive finally seemed to be happening at the Ministry. Mr. Weasley
had also brought back news about Stan Shunpike and a few others being released from
Ministry custody.
The group of four went back to talking about the article, and Harry admitted that he’d
suggested Mr. Weasley to help with the Ministry employee cleanup. The others were ecstatic
over the news, but Harry was still upset about Bill. He wanted to try to help if he could. It
was worth a shot.
Eventually, he got away from his friends and he went to Grimmauld Place, searching for, and
finding, another vial of the dittany. Running back out, he Apparated to the Dursleys. He ran
up the stairs, and promptly stumbled going into his room, having forgotten about the newly
cluttered room.
“Sorry,” he muttered. His eyes flicked around the room. “Where the bloody hell is my trunk?
I need my Invisibility Cloak,” he demanded.
“Merlin, Potter! What are you up to now?” Draco asked, but he was rolling off the bed to
kneel on the floor, pulling Harry’s trunk out from underneath the bed. Harry flipped it open
and snagged his cloak.
“Everything’s fine,” he said, hurrying back out again.
He Apparated back to the Weasleys, but this time made sure he wasn’t too close. He didn’t
really want anyone to know he was there. Covering himself with his cloak, he snuck back
into the house. Most of the family was in the sitting room for the evening, and he crept up the
stairs quietly.
He slipped into Bill’s room.
“Who’s there?” Bill asked, staring hard at the door closing by itself.
“Quiet!” Harry hissed, pulling his cloak off.
“Harry? What are you doing here? And why are you hiding?” Bill asked curiously.
“Where’s Fleur?” Harry asked, instead of answering. “I thought she was in here with you.”
“She’s in France at the moment,” Bill said, frowning at Harry. “I would’ve thought you knew
that.”
Harry smiled sheepishly. “I reckon someone probably told me. I, uh, haven’t been real good
with keeping up with everything recently,” he admitted.
Bill chuckled. “Harry Potter a bit busy these days?” he asked.

Harry grinned ruefully. “You could say that,” he said, but then he sobered. “I feel bad, but I
didn’t even know until this evening how bad your injuries still were.”
Bill’s face did look a right mess, violently red gashes slashed across his face.
Bill sighed heavily. “I’ll be fine. I’ve been hiding out in here, because I just seem to upset
everyone when they see me,” he said.
“So, you’re doing all right?” Harry asked.
Bill smiled. “I’ve got a wonderful girl I’m fixing to marry in the very near future,” he said.
“I’m doing quite fine.”
Harry grinned. “Glad to hear it,” he said, very happy to hear that Bill was actually in good
spirits.
“Why are you here exactly?” Bill asked. “Considering the cloak, this doesn’t exactly feel like
a social call.”
Harry looked at Bill, suddenly nervous. “Well, I might be able to heal you,” he admitted.
“But I didn’t really want to get anyone else’s hopes up, in case it doesn’t work.”
“But you’re willing to get my hopes up,” Bill said wryly.
“I don’t have a choice but to tell you,” Harry said, rolling his eyes.
Bill quirked a small grin. “So, Harry Potter’s branching out into healing nowadays?” he
asked.
Harry shrugged. “Kind of,” he answered. “If this does work, I’d rather you didn’t say
anything to anyone. I don’t really want to deal with any more attention. And well, to be
honest, I don’t want to deal with the questions it would generate.”
“You’ve got a lot of secrets right now, don’t you, Harry?” Bill asked quietly.
“Yes,” Harry admitted.
“Well, do your worst,” Bill said pleasantly. “Whether it works or doesn’t work, I’ll keep it
quiet.”
Harry glanced at the door nervously and Bill calmly picked up his wand and cast both
Locking and Silencing Charms.
Harry took a deep breath. “You might as well lie down. It’ll probably be easier that way,” he
said.
Bill shrugged and complied willingly. He lay down on his bed and relaxed, showing his trust
in Harry. Harry focused on the actual wounds. There were several partially healed slashes
across Bill’s face, and Harry started with one along his jaw line. He slowly drew his wand
along the gash, murmuring the song-like incantation.
He watched intently, and was pleased when the gash started closing.
“It’s working, isn’t it?” Bill asked, sounding awed. “I can feel it tingling.”
“Yeah, it seems to be working,” Harry agreed absently. He was already focusing on the next
gash. For several minutes, Harry worked on healing each of the slashes. When he was
finished, he dug in his pocket and pulled out the vial with dittany.
“Here, I need you to drink this, but um, try to be careful,” Harry said. “You probably should
avoid too much movement until they finish healing. I don’t rightly know,” he admitted.
Bill obediently tilted his head up just enough so that he could down the contents of the vial,
before laying back.
Harry sat on the edge of the bed and watched the wounds closing in morbid fascination. He
thought it was pretty wicked to see the healing like that, but realized that not every one would
feel quite the same way. Bill didn’t seem to mind him staring, though, so he continued to
watch.
He had no idea how long it had taken, but eventually he blinked back into reality. “Um, it
seems to have worked,” he said, with a wide grin gracing his features.
Bill tentatively brought his hands up to his face, feeling the areas where the wounds had
been. “There’s nothing,” he said in amazement. Bill snatched up his wand and quickly
conjured a mirror. He stared at his reflection, turning his head this way and that, inspecting
his face closely.
Finally, he set the mirror down and stared at Harry. “That’s bloody brilliant, Harry!” Bill
exclaimed. “Thank you!”
“You’re welcome,” Harry said happily. “But remember, you promised me you’d keep it
quiet.”
“And I’ll keep my word,” Bill said. He frowned. “Although, I’m not sure how I’m going to
explain this.”
Harry grinned. “I’m sure you’ll come up with something. Maybe some potion you drink
tonight finally kicks in overnight for a miraculous recovery by morning.”
“This is a miraculous recovery,” Bill said.
Harry shrugged uncomfortably. “Not really. I just knew the right spell,” he said.
Bill let it go, seeming to understand that Harry didn’t want the extra attention. Instead they
talked comfortably for a bit, mainly about Bill and Fleur’s upcoming wedding. Bill did tell
Harry, though, that Harry could skip the wedding gift, since Harry had already given his.
Fleur was sure to be pleasantly surprised.
Harry eventually snuck out of the house again, feeling light-hearted. He slipped quietly into
the Dursley’s house as it was actually quite late by that time. Stepping into his room, though,
he immediately had Draco’s and Narcissa’s attention.
“Is everything all right?” Narcissa asked worriedly.
“Um, yeah,” Harry said. “It’s quite good actually,” he added, unable to keep the smile off his
face.
“You were in a bloody hurry earlier,” Draco grumbled from his position in Harry’s bed.
“Sorry,” Harry said. “I didn’t mean to worry anyone. I just had to hurry so I could sneak back
in before they locked the doors.”
“You’re talking in riddles, Potter,” Draco sneered.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Harry snapped, feeling his good mood disappearing
rapidly.
“I just don’t like you talking in riddles,” Draco hissed angrily.
Harry stepped forward, glaring at Draco. “You don’t like riddles? You want to know where I
was tonight?”
He didn’t wait for a response. “I found out tonight that when Greyback slashed Bill’s face,
there was some kind of poison or something. I don’t understand it all, but I found out tonight
that his wounds hadn’t been healing properly. I didn’t know if I could heal him and didn’t
want to build up anyone’s hopes. And if I was successful, I didn’t want all the attention. So,
preoccupied and anxious, I was in a hurry earlier,” he said, voice hard.
Draco had turned ashen. “Were you able to heal him?” he asked, voice barely audible.
“Yes,” Harry said flatly.
“I didn’t know,” Draco whispered. “I didn’t know he’d be there.”
“I already know that,” Harry said harshly. He raked a hand through his hair. “What’s done is
done,” he said. He abruptly turned and jerked his wardrobe drawer open, searching for
pyjamas. Still angry and upset, he stared in confusion at the contents of the drawer.
He glanced at Draco, who was sitting up in the bed looking like he was about ready to cry.
Harry glanced at Narcissa. She looked little better than Draco. He wondered at the fact that
they seemed to be truly terrified of his reaction regarding the ordeal between Greyback and
Bill.
He stared at the contents of the drawer again. There were pyjamas, but none he recognized as
his own. Now didn’t seem to be a particularly good time, though, to ask where his own
clothes were. He finally snatched up a pair of pyjama bottoms and left to change in the
bathroom.
Amongst all the other oddities, he couldn’t believe he was rooming with someone’s mother.
There was something he found extremely disturbing about that fact that went beyond
rooming with Malfoys. Although, it could have something to do with sleeping in the same
bed as the mother’s son, while said mother was in the room. Harry didn’t really want to think
about any of it.
It the light of the bathroom, he eyed the pyjamas he’d grabbed. Slytherin green, silk pyjamas.
He shook his head. They might as well have had Draco’s name written all over them.
Sighing, Harry slipped them on. He decided that they actually felt pretty good, but he wasn’t
about to admit that to anyone else. Draco was a lot taller so the hems dragged the ground, but
Harry didn’t care. They were just a touch big around the waist, so they would work well
enough. And it wasn’t like Harry wasn’t used to clothes that were too big for him. At least he
wasn’t swimming in these.
Even when he was finished in the bathroom, Harry lingered. He wasn’t sure what he’d be
facing when he went back to his room. He’d calmed down again, and really didn’t feel like
fighting. Screwing up his courage, he slowly padded back to his room.
Everything was quiet and everyone was in their proper places. The room was fairly dark, but
there was enough light coming in through the window that Harry could make his way across
the room to his bed. Sighing softly, Harry quietly climbed into bed next to Draco.
Draco was lying on his side and facing the wall, leaving as much space between him and
Harry as he possibly could. Harry lay on his back, trying not to think at all. He finally
registered that Draco was shaking. Not severely, but enough. He realized that Draco was
crying and he didn’t know what to do about it.
Tentatively, Harry reached out his hand and gently tugged at Draco’s shoulder. Draco
stiffened, but didn’t turn.
“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered. He really hadn’t meant to make Draco cry.
His words got no response. Harry wasn’t sure what to do. The last time he’d caught Draco
crying, they’d ended up duelling and Harry had practically killed him. Thinking about
Draco’s reaction back in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, Harry decided maybe he should just
leave Draco alone for awhile.
He pushed back the blanket and moved to slide out of bed, but a hand shot out and grabbed
his wrist. Startled, Harry looked to Draco.
“Where are you going?” Draco whispered, refusing to actually look at Harry.
“I just thought maybe I should leave you alone for a while,” Harry whispered back, sounding
uncomfortable and awkward to his own ears.
Draco tugged on Harry’s arm and, getting the message, Harry lay back down. He was
shocked when he suddenly had an armful of Draco with Draco’s head buried in his neck,
crying. Feeling alarmed, Harry just lay there for a minute, doing nothing.
Eventually, Harry wrapped his arms around Draco and rubbed his back. He murmured that it
would be okay into soft, blond hair that was tickling his nose.
He wasn’t sure why Draco was crying and he didn’t ask. He could make plenty of guesses,
though. From his reaction earlier, he knew Draco was upset about the damage Greyback had
caused. He was fairly certain Draco was actually feeling guilty. Maybe Draco was even upset
about angering Harry. It made sense if for no other reason than Draco didn’t want to lose
Harry’s support.
Draco needed Harry now to help protect him from Voldemort. That couldn’t be an easy
adjustment for Draco to make. Harry knew he’d have a hard time if their situations were
reversed. Even if he was coming to trust Draco, it didn’t mean he would want to become
dependant on him for any reason.
It certainly couldn’t be easy for Draco to suddenly find himself living in a Muggle bedroom
rather than Malfoy Manor. Everything was changing for him. He could very well be upset
about having to share a bed with Harry, for all that Harry knew.
Harry sighed, brushing his hand against the back of Draco’s head and combing his fingers
through the soft locks of hair. He didn’t know exactly why Draco was crying. He didn’t know
how long Draco cried, either. Eventually, Draco seemed to cry himself into an exhausted
sleep, though. Harry smiled in the darkness, thinking Draco probably wouldn’t appreciate
that he was reminding Harry of Victoria at the moment. Victoria seemed to like to cry herself
to sleep on Harry’s chest, too.
Harry eventually drifted off, trying not to think about how warm and comfortable he felt and
also trying not to think about how really different it was from holding Victoria.
*****
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Notes

Chapter Fourteen
Harry woke the next morning to a rapid fluttering around his head. “G’way, Pig,” he
grumbled, trying to burrow into his pillow. The excited fluttering wouldn’t stop, though, and
he shot out a hand blindly and snatched the little owl.
He opened his eyes blearily, and realized he had an audience. Snatching up his glasses with
his free hand, he shoved them on. Draco was lying next to him in the bed, staring moodily at
the little owl that had obviously woken him up as well. Narcissa was sitting with Victoria and
watching them both in amusement.
Harry blinked away the oddness of the situation and quickly relieved Pig of his letter.
Opening it up, he started grinning broadly as he read.
“Good news, Harry?” Narcissa asked, her voice gentle and warm.
Harry beamed at her. “Yes,” he said. “Well, it’s actually already news that I knew about,” he
admitted. “But Ron’s written me to tell me about Bill’s miraculous recovery.”
“I want to know how you learned that spell,” Draco said. “I thought you’d learned it from
Pomfrey, but obviously not if she hadn’t healed Weasley.”
Harry’s good mood dropped like a rock and he scowled at Draco. “Are you just incapable of
letting me have a good moment now and then?” he asked.
He knew why Draco was suspicious, though, and knew he needed to deflect attention. “When
we duelled, I learned the spell that I used from a book that belonged to Snape. Snape used
that healing spell on you that day. He tried to force me to bring him the book, but I hid it
instead. When I went back to Hogwarts the other night, I retrieved the book and found the
healing spell,” he explained, somewhat misleading but truthful, overall.
“Hermione and I have been going rounds about that book all year as it is,” he said irritably.
“Hermione didn’t figure out who it belonged to until later, though, and I don’t need anyone
knowing that I essentially got the spell from Snape. Does that satisfy you now?” he asked
sarcastically.
“Not really,” Draco said, scowling back at Harry. “Now I just have more questions.”
“Tough,” Harry snapped. “Because I’m not answering them.”
“I want to know why you used that spell on me,” Draco demanded. “You could’ve killed
me!”
“I wasn’t trying to kill you!” Harry exclaimed. “You were about to Crucio me and I was just
trying to stop you! I’d read the spell, but had no idea what it would do. The only thing I knew
was that it was for enemies. Someone casting Crucio at me is considered an enemy!”
“Boys!” Narcissa said sharply. “That’s enough!”
Draco stilled, but Harry turned his head to glare at her. Without another word, he stood and
stalked out of the room to go to the loo.
When he returned, Draco took his turn and Harry dropped down heavily on his bed. “I’m
sorry,” he said to Narcissa.
Narcissa gave him a small smile. “It’s a difficult situation,” she said softly. “You’re holding
up quite well, all things considered.”
Harry laid back. “Wish I felt like I was handling things well,” he muttered. “I’m still not even
quite sure how this whole situation came about,” he said, making a wide sweeping gesture
with his arm.
Draco returned and Harry watched him warily as he dropped down beside the bed and pulled
out his trunk. He looked up at Harry before opening it. “I brought something for you,” he said
quietly. “I don’t want it to get you angry again, though. It’s a . . . well, it’s a bit of an apology
and something that I hope will show that you can trust me now. Even if I do keep fighting
with you,” he added.
Harry continued to watch him warily, not at all sure he trusted what Draco was saying. Draco
sighed heavily and opened up his trunk. He brought out a small box and handed it to Harry.
Harry accepted it gingerly. He glanced at Narcissa. She nodded her encouragement, but Harry
realized that she looked a little worried as well. He didn’t exactly find that encouraging. He
carefully lifted the lid off the box and peeked inside. Then let out a whoop of triumph,
startling the others.
“I knew it!” Harry said, dropping the box as he lifted out the other shrunken Vanishing
Cabinet. “This is the other one, isn’t it?” he asked excitedly. “The one that you had Borgin
hold for you at the shop?”
Draco nodded, a little wide-eyed at Harry’s reaction. “How’d you know it was there?”
“Oh, I saw you that day,” Harry said dismissively. “When you ditched your mum, we
followed you. Unfortunately, we couldn’t figure out exactly what you were up to in there,
though.”
Draco was startled anew. “You’d followed me?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Harry answered. “Knew you’d be up to no good of some kind. Wish I’d figured it
out then.” He wasn’t paying a whole lot of attention to what he was actually saying, as he
was remembering back to a different time. “I wonder if this is actually the same cabinet I hid
in so you and your father wouldn’t see me,” he wondered absently.
“When was this?” Draco asked, staring at Harry in total disbelief.
Harry frowned. “Well, that would’ve been before second year,” he said. “That was when your
father was trying to get rid of a bunch of stuff because the Ministry was on his case. I don’t
know when you bought your Hand of Glory, but your father wouldn’t let you buy it that day.
You were checking out the opals that day as well,” he added, sounding distant, lost in the
memories of that day.
He looked back at the shrunken cabinet in his hand. “This must have been the cabinet I was
hiding in,” he said. “You almost opened it, but your father called you to leave.”
He shook his head to clear it of the memories. “Anyway, I’m right glad to have this now,” he
said.
He looked at Draco and finally registered the shocked expression. Harry chuckled. “Have you
figured out I’m not quite as stupid as I look?” he asked in amusement.
“You don’t look stupid,” Draco said, seeming a bit dazed.
Harry’s eyebrows rose in surprise, and Draco flushed a light pink, realizing what he’d just
said. He scowled at Harry. “Don’t let it go to your head,” he snapped.
Harry chuckled again. He let it go, looking at the cabinet again. “Thanks for this. I was
hoping you had it. I’ve got both of them now, and maybe they’ll come in handy at some
point,” he said.
“You intend to use them?” Draco asked in astonishment. “I just thought you’d want it so
you’d know it wouldn’t be . . .,” he trailed off, not really wanting to bring up the Death-
Eaters-in-Hogwarts issue again.
“So it wouldn’t be used against me again?” Harry asked dryly.
Draco shrugged uncomfortably.
“Yeah, there’s that,” Harry admitted. “But if it’ll get Death Eaters into Hogwarts, maybe at
some point it’ll get Aurors close to Voldemort.”
“How do plan to manage that?” Draco asked in disbelief.
“Oh, I’ll figure it out,” Harry said dismissively. “It’s not like I can go after Voldemort yet,
anyway.”
“Why?” Draco asked, sounding more and more confused by the moment.
“I can’t tell you that,” Harry said with a shrug. “Although, I really do need to get back to that
problem,” he added with a grimace. “If I could sort out how to get rid of Voldemort, it would
solve a lot of these other problems.”
“Is there anything we can do to help?” Narcissa spoke up quietly.
Harry turned thoughtful, running through all the things he needed to sort out. “Yeah, what
was Regulus’ middle name?” he asked suddenly.
Narcissa’s eyes widened, but she answered immediately. “Adrian. Which means ‘dark one’,”
she admitted softly.
Harry nodded in satisfaction. “I need you to tell me about Regulus’ time with the Death
Eaters,” he said. “Especially whatever happened right before and after he died.”
Narcissa and Draco were giving Harry odd looks. “Why would you need to know about
Regulus?” Narcissa asked.
“It’s important,” Harry said. He frowned thoughtfully. “I think it’s important, anyway. I need
to know, but I really don’t know how it all fits in yet.”
Narcissa and Draco were still looking at Harry doubtfully.
“I can’t really tell you much,” Harry said. “Just trust me. I need to know about Regulus.”
“Breakfast first,” Narcissa said firmly. “And then I’ll tell you everything I know.”
Harry shrugged. That was soon enough for him and, he had to admit, the trays of food Winky
had popped in with smelled good. Draco shoved his trunk back under the bed and Harry
snagged Victoria. The two boys sat cross legged on the bed with Victoria between them. They
each fed her bites of their breakfast as she mangled some toast.
Narcissa sat at Harry’s desk to eat, and eyed the boys’ eating routine with resignation.
Draco smirked at his mum and leaned over to stage-whisper to Harry. “Mum’s going mental
seeing me eat like this. Especially watching Victoria,” he said.
Harry looked down at Victoria in confusion. “Why? We’re just eating.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “Don’t you have any manners, Potter?” he drawled.
Harry shrugged. “I’ve seen my relatives get all stiff and formal when Uncle Vernon has
guests. Everyone’s just uncomfortable. I’d rather be relaxed,” he said. “And Victoria’s not
even a year old yet. She’s barely learning to eat by herself. It doesn’t make sense to fuss over
a little mess.”
Especially since he’d learned the cleaning charms from Mrs. Weasley, he’d found it really
easy to clean her, and the surrounding area, after she was done eating. He didn’t have to rely
so much on Winky’s help for that anymore.
Draco looked the three of them over, including himself. “I’m not used to sitting in my
pyjamas eating in bed,” he said.
Harry snorted, and it didn’t sound particularly humorous. “I’ve spent almost entire summers
eating my meals in this room,” he said. Mentally, he added the thought that it was only when
he got food, and he scowled down at his plate.
Draco seemed to be picking up on his thoughts, and he’d witnessed enough conversations
regarding Harry’s relationship with his relatives to understand. “You know, you often come
back after summer holidays looking awfully scrawny,” Draco said, eyes narrowed.
“I only had to spend a couple weeks here last summer,” Harry said, shrugging.
Draco sighed. “And you’re only here now because of us,” he stated. It wasn’t a question.
Harry shrugged again. “At least it’s been a lot better here this year,” he said.
Draco stared at him in horror. “This is better?!” he exclaimed.
“By far,” Harry said flatly, forgetting his desire to keep quiet about his past. “You think you
feel trapped in this room? Try spending an entire summer, literally locked in this room. Bars
on the window, let out twice a day to use the loo, and when you’re lucky, getting a bit of food
pushed through the flap on the door.”
Having lost his appetite, Harry set his plate aside and began cleaning up Victoria.
“I’d figured out things weren’t all that great for you, but I didn’t realize it was that bad,”
Draco said quietly, sounding a little shaken.
“Don’t worry about it,” Harry said dismissively. “It was only that bad one summer.”
“But here I am . . .,” Draco trailed off, looking upset.

Harry snorted in amusement, finding his sense of humour again. “Here you are acting like a
spoiled prat and complaining about being temporarily stuck in this tiny room in a Muggle
house?”
Draco shot him a weak glare, but nodded.
“I expect you to act like a spoiled prat in this situation,” Harry said with a grin. He sat down
in the middle of what floor space they had and helped Victoria to stand, but his attention was
still on Draco.
“I’d be upset about circumstances thrusting me here, too,” he added dryly.
“Circumstances have thrust you here,” Draco said slowly.
“Yeah, but I’ve had years to get used to it,” Harry said. He glanced around the room.
“Although, this is a might unusual, even for my life.”
“How can you be so . . . accepting?” Draco asked.
“I just do what I have to do to survive,” Harry said with a shrug, not thinking it was a big
deal.
“Harry!” Narcissa finally spoke up, sounding horrified.
“What?!” Harry asked, alarmed at her reaction, and he couldn’t figure out what she was
reacting to. He quickly checked on Victoria, but she was still just bobbing at the knees while
she clutched Harry’s hands.
“That’s no way to live!” Narcissa said sharply.
“What isn’t?” Harry asked, confused.
“My mother is shocked that you live only to survive,” Draco said quietly.
Harry rolled his eyes. “What do you expect? By all rights I should’ve been dead at fifteen
months old. I’ve been fighting for my life in one way or another ever since.”
He was getting a little tired of all their conversations turning so serious or exploding into an
argument, but once again he found himself sobering. And again, he focused on Draco, who
he knew far better than Narcissa.
“Draco, I’m not sure you’ll believe this, but I understand far more about what you’ve been
going through than you might think,” Harry said.
“You can’t,” Draco said, but he didn’t sound completely sure of himself as he met Harry’s
calm gaze.
“I don’t and can’t understand all of it,” Harry agreed. “But I understand some of the
important things. I understand some things that I don’t think many people would. On either
side,” he added.
He paused to gather his thoughts. “You’ve grown up knowing which side of this war you
were on. I don’t believe you ever even questioned it. You believed what your parents believed
in. I don’t have to agree with the side you were on to understand that part,” he said.
Draco nodded reluctantly.
“One really awful night happened,” Harry said, his mind wanting to drift back to that night at
the Department of Mysteries. “For all intents and purposes, you lost your father that night
and I lost my godfather.”
Draco’s face tightened and Harry shook his head. “I’m not trying to talk about right or
wrong,” he said quickly. “That’s just what happened. Believe me, I was there,” he couldn’t
help adding bitterly.
“I found out that night that I am the one that has to bring down Voldemort,” he said flatly. “I
don’t know when things happened for you exactly, but shortly afterwards, you were assigned
the task to bring down Dumbledore.”
He looked away, unable to meet Draco’s gaze. “Ron and Hermione, well, I’m not sure they’d
understand it. They’d say those two tasks are completely different. I felt that way myself,” he
admitted. “In some ways, I still do.”
“On a personal level, though, they’re not really so different,” he said, his throat feeling tight.
“You feel hopeless and powerless. The task feels bigger than anyone could ever imagine or
understand. But you know that so much is riding on your success or failure. You tell yourself
that it’s about the cause. But ultimately, all you’re really trying to do is protect your family
and your friends.”
He fell into silence for a minute and the room seemed unnaturally quiet for the number of
occupants in the small space. Taking a deep breath, he continued.
“If you want to survive, you learn to accept and adapt as best you can,” he said softly. “You’ll
die if you don’t.”
Harry met Draco’s gaze again. “I’m not really finding any of this easier to accept than you
are. I get just as frustrated and angry. But like you, I’m doing what I have to do to survive,”
he said. “We disagree on a lot of things, but I’m not so sure we’re really all that different. I’ve
just been fighting for my survival a lot longer than you.”
“Maybe we’re not as different as I thought,” Draco admitted slowly.
He cocked his head to the side, staring at Harry contemplatively. “What would you be doing
right now if you could be doing whatever you wanted?” he asked suddenly.
“If I actually had a choice?” Harry asked.
“Yes,” Draco said. “If there was none of this other stuff going on and especially no war.”
Harry thought about that for a minute. He looked at Victoria and Narcissa and back to Draco
before answering. “Well, things have changed a little,” he admitted. “But generally, a good
summer day for me would be a game of pick up Quidditch in the Weasley’s back field. Lots
of laughs and fun and finished off with a huge family meal outside in the backyard with tons
of great food. Just laying around and relaxing afterwards.”
“A little snogging with the baby Weasley,” Draco sneered.
Harry grinned, ignoring Draco’s attitude. “I thought we were going with scenarios that
wouldn’t get me killed,” he said.
“You didn’t seem too afraid of her family when you were at Hogwarts,” Draco said.
Harry shrugged carelessly. “That’s what Ginny basically said,” he admitted. “No, I’m not
really afraid of her family. The others would accept us as a couple if that’s what we really
wanted. But we’re not together anymore, anyway, so it doesn’t really matter.”
“You’re not together?” Draco asked in surprise.
“No,” Harry said, shrugging again. “I, uh, broke it off with her at Dumbledore’s funeral,” he
admitted. “I had too much other stuff to worry about. But then, we had a talk the other day.
We’re just too much like brother and sister, and it wasn’t really like either of us had expected
it to be. We’re just friends now.”
“The Weasleys are your family,” Narcissa spoke up, but her voice was soft.
Harry sent her a lopsided smile. “Yeah. I know you don’t like them much, but they’ve always
been great to me.”
Narcissa smiled sadly. “The Weasleys have not held the same beliefs as the Malfoys,” she
said.
“And they’re poor,” Draco sneered.
“Draco!” Narcissa said sharply, but both Draco and Harry ignored her.
Harry rolled his eyes, wondering why Draco had an attitude again. “Yes, they’re poor, blood-
traitors,” he said. “They’re not proper purebloods following a psychotic madman who wants
to destroy as much of the world as possible.”
“That’s enough!” Narcissa said.
Harry looked away.
“Draco, I believe we have already discovered that we need to rethink our views,” Narcissa
said, her voice crisp.
“But, Mum!” Draco exclaimed.
“No,” she said firmly. “At the very least, we are guests here. And as such, we will not go
about insulting our host’s family.”
“This is not a normal social function,” Draco said stiffly.
“No, it is not,” Narcissa agreed. “But it is no reason for us to forget our manners.”
“You must be joking,” Draco muttered.
“Narcissa,” Harry said hesitantly. “I’d rather Draco didn’t start going formal or anything. I
respect what you’re trying to say. But, um, he wouldn’t be Draco if he was treating me polite.
It’d just be too strange. And things are strange enough already.”
“You’d rather fight with my son,” Narcissa said flatly.
“Well, no,” Harry said. “But I’d rather he be honest. Draco and I have never got along, and
I’ve never really thought of it this way until now, but that’s one reason I can respect him. I’ve
always known where he stood. I didn’t like where he stood before, but I knew. There was no
pretence, no false airs. I’d really rather not start now.”
“It is not proper behaviour for a Malfoy,” Narcissa said stiffly, “to insult your host and their
family.”
“I’m not a proper host, either,” Harry said dryly. “I also realize the irony of me saying I
prefer honesty when I can’t be honest about a lot of things right now.”
Draco eyed him calculatingly. “You are being as honest as you can, though, aren’t you?” he
asked.
“As much as I can,” Harry agreed.
They lapsed into quiet for a bit as Harry transferred his attention to Victoria. Harry hadn’t
forgotten that they were going to learn about Regulus, but he needed a bit of a break. Besides
that, Victoria was getting tired of being ignored. For a while, Harry was happy to concentrate
on nothing more difficult than sorting shapes into a ball. Although, he was uncomfortably
aware that Draco was sprawled out on the bed and simply watching them. Narcissa settled
herself in one of the armchairs with a book, but she seemed to spend more time watching
Harry playing with Victoria as well.
Harry couldn’t really blame them. There was a distinct lack of things to do, and Victoria was
fun to watch. He was dumping the brightly coloured blocks out of the shape sorter for her
again when an owl flew into the room. It flew directly to Harry and he relieved it of its
burden while Draco found some owl treats for it.
Harry skimmed the letter quickly, and then started over again, reading it much more slowly
the second time through.
“Who is it from?” Draco asked.
Harry looked up at him. “Who the hell is Daphne Greengrass?” he asked.
Draco blinked at the odd question, but he answered. “She’s a Slytherin in our year, Harry,” he
said dryly. “Is she writing you letters now?” he added sarcastically.
“Um, no,” Harry said. He bit at his lip as he debated whether he should tell Draco or not. He
glanced at Narcissa, but it wasn’t like she was any help in deciding.
“Here,” he said, handing the letter over to Draco. “Tell me what you think this is.” It was
really only a list of names and at the bottom was the date, a time and the words “same place”.
Draco snatched it from him, and Harry watched for his reaction as he read it. Draco was
frowning deeply. “These are all Slytherins,” he said.
“And what do they all have in common?” Harry asked.
Draco’s eyes slowly widened as he skimmed through the list again. “They’re neutral,” he said
in realization. His eyes jerked back to meet Harry’s. “Someone sent you this list so that you
can help these students if the Dark Lord decides to mark them. That’s why it’s only names of
some of the upper years.”
Harry nodded, not surprised by Draco’s perceptiveness. Draco knew the Slytherins far better
than he did. He gestured to the list. “So, is it accurate?” he asked.
“I think so,” Draco said, skimming through the list, yet again. “Blaise isn’t on this list,
though.”
“And who do you think sent me the list?” Harry questioned, smirking.
Draco’s eyes widened. “Blaise sent you this list?” he asked incredulously.
“Yeah, I talked to him last week,” Harry admitted. Draco didn’t lose his incredulous
expression and stared at Harry in disbelief.
“Why?” Draco asked.
Harry shrugged uncomfortably. “You said he was your friend and he wasn’t so bad. So, I
went and checked him out. I didn’t expect him to actually ask for my help, but I wasn’t going
to tell him no,” he said defensively.
Draco glanced down at the letter. “Blaise isn’t my friend any more,” he said flatly.
“Yes, he is,” Harry said. His lips curled into a half smile, remembering his conversation with
Blaise. “We argued about you and I had to shout about how much I hated you while he
defended you.”
“He defended me?” Draco said in disbelief.
“Yes,” Harry said simply.
Draco glanced at the letter again. “He wants to meet you again today. Why?”
“Probably to inform me that you’re missing,” Harry said, shrugging. “It’s not something he’d
want to put in a letter. He cares about what happens to you, but he’s also going to believe that
I’ll need to be keeping an extra watch out for you. Since you’re so incredibly dangerous,” he
added with an amused smirk.
“I want to go with you,” Draco said decisively, ignoring Harry’s soft jibe.
“Draco,” Narcissa said warningly, speaking up for the first time since the letter had arrived.
“It is not safe to tell anyone where we are.”
Draco appeared torn, looking from the letter, to his mother, to Harry and back to the letter.
Harry attempted to stay out of the ensuing argument between Draco and his mother, but he
listened with an awed fascination. Considering the possible severity of the subject matter,
they were still just a mother and son arguing over what was best. It was a little strange to
realize that Narcissa had as much influence over Draco as Molly had over her sons.
Which is why Harry was all the more surprised when Narcissa was the one who finally
turned to him and asked for his opinion.
“Um, I understand the concerns, but I, uh, don’t really think Zabini is that much of a threat,”
Harry admitted hesitantly. He wasn’t overly sure it was the best idea to get between them.
“He was asking me for protection, so I can’t see him running to tell Voldemort. More than
that, even while asking for protection, he was still defending Draco. He’s not going to say
anything to anyone that would put him in more danger.”
“And precisely what would be the advantage of Draco revealing himself to Blaise?” Narcissa
asked.
Harry was fairly certain she already knew the answer from the way she was looking at him.
He risked a glance at Draco, who was begging with his eyes for Harry to plead his case.
Harry focused on Narcissa again. “Things are difficult enough right now and Draco could use
the support of his friend,” he said quietly, feeling uncomfortable with the direct admission.
He went on hurriedly. “Another advantage is that if I show up with Draco, it gives me more
weight with Zabini, and by association, the other Slytherins,” he admitted honestly. “I first
wrote to Zabini for Draco’s sake, but my excuse to him was that I could use more allies. I
hadn’t really thought it through that well at the time, but having more allies is definitely a
good thing—especially if those allies are ones that I can keep from ending up on Voldemort’s
side.”
Narcissa gave a nod of approval and then agreed that Draco could go, as long as they were
careful.
“I feel like I’m five years old again,” Draco muttered sullenly.
Harry sniggered until Narcissa glared at him and then Draco was the one sniggering.
“At least I’m not the only one,” Draco drawled.
Harry stuck his tongue out at him, as it felt appropriate under the circumstances. They started
laughing, with Narcissa shaking her head at them both.
“You do know how serious this is,” she warned, but she was smiling at their antics.
“It’s not like we could forget,” Harry said, but he shared a grin with Draco.
“As there is still plenty of time before you need to leave, perhaps you would care to hear
about Regulus now?” Narcissa asked.
That sobered Harry up immediately and he nodded. He popped Victoria back into her cot and
snagged a couple more toys to distract her before sitting down in the other chair, giving
Narcissa his full attention.
“I’m not sure that there is really much I can tell you, to be honest,” Narcissa said
thoughtfully. “I could tell you plenty of anecdotes from when we were children, but the
events surrounding his death remain a mystery.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Harry said, shrugging. “I mainly want to know if Voldemort
actually killed him or not. I’m pretty sure I already know why he didn’t want to be a Death
Eater anymore. Actually, I’m pretty sure I know what killed him as well, but I need someone
to confirm my suspicions.”
Narcissa looked at him in surprise, delicate eyebrows arched elegantly. “It would appear you
know more than I do,” she said.
Harry shook his head in denial. “All I have are guesses,” he said. “I spent the two weeks
before Draco showed up here with Victoria thinking about it a lot. I’d still appreciate it if you
could tell me what you do know,” he requested.
Narcissa’s gaze grew distant as she remembered the past. “Regulus was . . . enthusiastic
about joining the Dark Lord,” she began. “As was the case for many of us, he was drawn to
the handsome, charismatic man that spoke of so many ideals that he’d grown up believing.”
“I had been very close to my cousin growing up, but I did not spend as much time with him
once I was betrothed to Lucius,” she said. “What little I did see of Regulus, I saw that he’d
become disillusioned of the Dark Lord’s greatness. He was younger than myself, yet in
hindsight, I have to say that he saw the reality far sooner than I did,” she said regretfully.
She gazed at Harry sadly. “He tried to warn me, but I would not listen to him. I was happily
in love with Lucius and I was more a supporter of him than an active supporter of the Dark
Lord,” she explained. “I carry the Dark Mark on my arm now, but generally women were
considered weaker and meant more for ornamentation.”
Harry’s brow was furrowed, his mind attempting to process all the information she was
giving him. “Why do you have the mark now?” he asked, sidetracked by that point.
“Because when he first returned, only select few knew about it,” Narcissa explained. “He
marked those he had easier access to.”
“And Lucius knew because he was there that night,” Harry muttered bitterly.
“Yes,” she acknowledged quietly.

Harry shoved the bitterness aside and went back to the topic of her cousin. “What did
Regulus say when he tried to warn you?” he asked.
“He came to me a couple of times, simply questioning the Dark Lord’s methods,” Narcissa
said. “It was not as he’d expected it to be. A short time before he died, however, he came to
me again. That time he was terrified. He was barely even making sense.”
“What did he say?” Harry asked sharply.
Narcissa looked a little alarmed at Harry’s reaction, and she hesitated for a moment before
she spoke again.
“There was nothing specific, Harry,” she said quietly. “He rambled about us all being in
danger and he urged me to run, to go into hiding. He said he would explain more to me later,
but then he was dead.”
“Would he have warned anyone else?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I can’t say for sure, but I don’t believe so,” she answered. “He was
rather frantic when he ordered me not to say anything to anyone.” She hesitated. “He
mentioned trying to find Sirius to warn him, but I do not think he was able to reach him, as he
was estranged from the family by that time. And Bellatrix was far too enthusiastic about the
Dark Lord for him to have approached her.”
Harry closed his eyes briefly, not wanting to dwell on memories of Sirius or his killer, or the
fact that the lady he was speaking to was the one who had betrayed him. It would get him
nowhere.
Rubbing at his temples, he turned over the information in his mind. The fact that Voldemort
didn’t seem to know his Horcrux had been taken so many years ago certainly implied that if
Regulus had said anything to anyone, they’d kept their mouths shut about it. Assuming, of
course, that Regulus was the R.A.B. from the note.
“How did he die?” he asked abruptly.
“Unfortunately, I can not answer that question for certain, either,” Narcissa said. “Many
people knew that Regulus had been growing more discontent in the Dark Lord’s service. A
few nights after that rather disturbing meeting, he arrived back at my house. He was found
collapsed in the yard and never regained consciousness, dying shortly after. Many believed
that he had been cursed for showing disloyalty, but not one of the Death Eaters took what
would have been considered the credit for killing him. The Dark Lord was simply pleased
that someone had dealt with the malcontent in his group.”
“Voldemort killed him,” Harry muttered, staring unseeingly at the floor. “The bastard killed
him and didn’t even fucking know it.” He’d not only killed Regulus, but Harry felt fairly
certain that he’d actually been the one to kill Dumbledore as well. He had no way of proving
it, but believed that they’d both died from whatever poison it was that had hidden the locket.
He was certain that Snape’s Killing Curse simply hastened the process with Dumbledore.
“How could you possibly know this?” Narcissa asked.
Harry focused on her again, but didn’t know how to answer, as he wasn’t about to tell her the
truth. He shook his head. “I just know it,” he said grimly. “Thanks, that was a big help.”
“You’re quite welcome,” she said, sounding a little bemused, “but I’m not sure that anything
I’ve said could actually have been useful.”
It was useful information, but Harry had to admit that it still brought him no closer to the
missing Horcrux. It made him more certain of who had retrieved it, though. He asked, but
Narcissa informed him that no one knew where Regulus had been before his death. No one
seemed to have seen him since she herself had—at least, not that anyone admitted to.
Harry turned in the arm chair, resting his head on one side and throwing his legs over the
other as he got comfortable while pondering the mystery of the Horcruxes.
It was all rather confusing. Dumbledore had believed that Voldemort was unaware of anyone
knowing about his Horcruxes. Yet Regulus had discovered the secret somehow. Considering
the fake locket was still in place, however, Voldemort probably hadn’t discovered that
Regulus, or anyone else, had found out. Harry didn’t think Dumbledore had been aware of
Regulus or anyone else knowing about the Horcruxes, either.
Harry’s mind spun when he tried to figure out who knew what. Rubbing absently at his
temples, he attempted to sort out what was really important. Harry knew about them,
Voldemort believed no one knew. Regulus was likely the one to have taken the Horcrux and
so there was no telling where it might be now.
He groaned in frustration. Was it possible that Regulus had found another one as well? From
what Narcissa said, Regulus was missing for at least a couple days. Did that mean it just took
him that long to find the cave? Was there someone else who had helped him? Dumbledore
hadn’t been able to do it alone. And how in the world was Harry supposed to find the locket?
It could be anywhere.
Draco’s head suddenly appeared over the back of the chair, startling him out of his reveries.
“You all right?” Draco asked.
Harry blinked at him slowly. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Draco’s eyes were showing concern, but his mouth formed an amused smirk. “Because
thinking appears to have been a painful process for you for the last hour,” he said.
“The last hour?” Harry repeated blankly.
Draco rolled his eyes. “Yes, you’ve been lost in thought ever since you finished talking with
Mum about Regulus,” he explained.
“It gave me a lot to think about,” Harry said defensively.
Draco looked like he wanted to question Harry about it, but he didn’t. Instead, he pointed out
that they needed to be leaving to meet Blaise. He unceremoniously dropped Harry’s trainers
into his lap and ordered him to hurry up.
Harry looked at his wardrobe and then to Draco. “Where are my clothes?” he asked, still
wearing the pyjamas he’d put on the night before.
“The top drawers,” Draco answered warily. “My mum and Victoria are sharing one wardrobe,
and we’re sharing the other.”
Harry closed his eyes briefly, but nodded. He quickly gathered up clothes to wear and slipped
out to the bathroom to change.
*****
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Notes

Chapter Fifteen
Under the guise of the Invisibility Cloak, Harry Apparated Draco and himself to the
relatively safe location he’d scouted out the last time he’d met Blaise at the park. It had been
bad enough going through the Leaky Cauldron before; he especially didn’t want to go
through with Draco.
Harry slipped out from underneath the cloak, and strode casually over to the same bench and
leaned up against it. He was pretending to be casual, but he was watching his surroundings
warily. It wasn’t long before he saw Blaise approaching.
“Potter,” Blaise said with a nod. “I see you got my letter.”
Harry smirked at him. “You’re slacking, Zabini, when you resort to stating the obvious,” he
said.
Blaise looked startled for a moment before he smiled. “The fact that I’m willingly speaking
to you has thrown me off balance,” he said.
“I reckon that would do it,” Harry said in agreement, chuckling a little. “So, why’d you want
to meet me?” he asked, sobering and getting to the point.
Blaise’s face instantly hardened, turning serious. “I’ve got some information for you that I
didn’t dare risk being intercepted,” he said. He glanced around at their surroundings warily.
“I don’t think anyone followed me, but maybe we should go somewhere else just in case.”
“Do you trust me enough to let me Apparate you?” Harry asked, eyes narrowed and scanning
the area.
“No, but it’s probably a good idea,” Blaise said, grimacing.
Harry was thankful that Draco had insisted on arranging another meeting place where he’d be
able to actually speak with Blaise himself. He’d know where to go to meet Harry now. Harry
led Blaise back to a secluded area before Apparating them.
They arrived behind the Shrieking Shack and Blaise grimaced again as he recognized where
they were at. Harry grinned. He and Draco had had quite the row over the location before
they’d left, but Harry had won.
“Why here?” Blaise asked irritably.
“Because no one comes up here,” Harry said, shrugging indifferently. “Especially with no
students around at the moment.” He still put up a Silencing Charm around the area for extra
protection. He felt far safer in the anonymity of Muggle London than he did here.
Blaise nodded reluctantly, resigning himself to the location despite his wary glance at the old
shack.
“So, why would someone have been following you?” Harry asked, effectively gaining
Blaise’s full attention again.
“I don’t think I was,” Blaise said. “It’s hard to trust anyone right now, though. I have
something to tell you, but I don’t want you telling the Ministry or anyone. I’m only telling
you because I think you need to watch your back.”
“I can’t promise that I won’t tell anyone,” Harry said, “but I can promise that I won’t tell the
Ministry.”
Blaise glared at him, but seemed to accept that. “Snape was at my house this morning,” he
said abruptly.
“Why?” Harry asked sharply, despite already knowing the answer. These kinds of
conversations were just too strange. He wasn’t the least surprised when Blaise informed him
that Snape had been making subtle inquiries about Draco.
“With both Draco and his mum missing, there’s some kind of foul play going on amongst the
Death Eaters,” Blaise said.
Harry sneered at him. “And you’re worried about poor Malfoy,” he said mockingly.
“Not that you care, but he could be dead, Potter,” Blaise snapped angrily.
“Why the fuck should I care?” Harry asked.
“Because I thought you should know that things are unsettled with the Death Eaters right
now,” Blaise ground out. “The Dark Lord is going to be extremely angry when he finds out
that the Malfoys have disappeared. Who knows what he’ll do, but it’ll likely be big and I
thought you should be warned.”
“Do you think Voldemort will want to mark you now?” Harry asked sharply.
Blaise shrugged helplessly. “I have no idea,” he muttered.
“He won’t want to mark you for awhile yet,” Draco said quietly, suddenly appearing beside
them.
Harry couldn’t stop himself from laughing when Blaise jumped back and almost fell on his
arse. He received a glare from Draco for his reaction, and he honestly tried to calm himself,
but he found it hilarious. He sobered quickly, though, when Blaise pulled his wand.
Blaise was staring at them both in shock and didn’t seem to know who to point his wand at.
“What the fuck is going on?” he snarled.
“Put your wand away,” Harry said steadily. “Draco just wants to talk to you.”
Blaise’s eyes were darting wildly back and forth between Harry and Draco, who were still
standing fairly close together. Draco started talking fast, explaining enough of the situation
that Blaise eventually relaxed and put his wand away. He was actually starting to look even
more shocked, however, the more that Draco talked.
Harry left them standing in the shadows and sat down on an old tree stump a few feet away.
He was only listening with half an ear, as he already knew everything that Draco was telling
Blaise. Draco notably left out any mention of Victoria, but otherwise made it clear that he and
his mum had changed allegiances.
Harry sighed, inexplicably feeling out of sorts, considering that everything was going well.
He absently kicked at a large rock, turning his thoughts to what Blaise had said about
Voldemort.
He hadn’t put much thought into how Voldemort would react. He wasn’t convinced that it
really mattered much, overall. Voldemort would certainly react to the Malfoys’ disappearance
in some way, but if it wasn’t that, then it would simply be something else. Harry wasn’t sure
if Voldemort even needed an excuse to wreak havoc on the world.
He did find it rather interesting that Blaise thought their disappearance implied foul play
amongst the Death Eaters. It probably meant Draco and Narcissa were even safer with him
than he’d realized. Most of the Wizarding world didn’t know they were missing, and the
Death Eaters were looking at each other in suspicion.
Blaise was right, though, that something would likely be happening sooner rather than later.
Harry kicked harder at the rock. The real question was whether he would get enough warning
to do anything about whatever Voldemort planned.
“What’s his problem?” Blaise asked.
“He’s probably thinking again,” Draco said in exasperation.
Harry registered their words and scowled up at them.
“What? Planning evil plots against the Dark Lord?” Blaise asked snidely.
“Something like that,” Harry muttered darkly.
“Leave him alone, Blaise,” Draco said warningly, causing both Harry and Blaise to look at
him in surprise.
Draco paid no heed to their shock, addressing Blaise. “We need him,” he stated haughtily.
“Insulting him isn’t likely to inspire him to continue helping us.”
Harry gaped openly. That was rich coming from Draco, who still insulted him on a regular
basis. Admittedly, it was mostly friendly nowadays, but still.
“Close your mouth, Potter,” Draco snapped irritably.
Harry shut his mouth with an audible clack only to open it again to question Draco about this
insult business. “You still insult me all the time,” he said in disbelief.
“I do not,” Draco declared. “I simply make certain observations.”
“Observations, my arse,” Harry said dryly. “Who’s the one who cursed me up one side and
down the other for choosing this as our alternate location?” he asked pointedly, gesturing to
the old, boarded-up shack.
“Well, it’s not my fault you’re a bloody idiot for choosing a place that’s haunted,” Draco
retorted.
“You’re just pissed off still because you’ve finally figured out how I tricked you that day,”
Harry said, smirking.
“How was I supposed to know you’ve had a bloody Invisibility Cloak all these years?” Draco
asked petulantly.
“If you hadn’t been such an arse to my friends that day, I would never have thrown the mud
at you,” Harry retorted. He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe I would have anyway,” he
admitted. “It was a lot of fun.”
“I thought we agreed to drop this,” Draco said, glaring at him.
“You’re the one who said it wasn’t wise to insult me anymore,” Harry said sweetly. “I never
said any such thing.”
Draco scowled. “I didn’t mean I’d never insult you anymore,” he snapped. “Merlin, I hate
you, Potter.”
“Aww, you say the nicest things, Malfoy,” Harry said, starting to laugh.
Draco smirked in amusement and then they finally registered Blaise staring at them in
disbelief again.
“You know,” Blaise said slowly. “I didn’t plan on telling anyone about this meeting, but I
don’t think it would matter if I did. No one would ever believe me.”
Harry and Draco exchanged glances. “Um, you’re probably right,” Harry agreed. “I still have
trouble believing it myself sometimes.”
Conversation fell into more light-hearted topics as Draco and Blaise caught up with each
other. Draco didn’t seem ready to go back yet, and Harry simply sat and listened. He wasn’t
exactly in a hurry to go sit in his cramped room again. It was far more entertaining to listen in
on the Slytherin gossip.
His ears perked up in interest when the mysterious Daphne Greengrass was mentioned. He
barely even remembered the quiet girl. He was extremely surprised to learn that Blaise had
been dating her, but had broken up with her because she was supposedly too boring.
“Pansy would be an exciting change for you,” Draco said, taunting his friend.
Blaise grimaced in disgust. “You’re not pawning that bitch off on me,” he said.
“I’m effectively rid of her finally,” Draco said cheerfully. “One of the many bonuses to
switching sides.”
“I’m sure there are many bonuses,” Blaise said in a knowing tone, causing Draco to glare at
him warningly. Both of them glanced at Harry and he stared back in confusion, sure that he’d
just missed something as they had been completely ignoring his presence up to that point.
“What?” he asked curiously.
“Nothing,” Draco snapped, back to glaring at Blaise. “Blaise is just being a prat.”
“Whatever,” Harry said, irritated at being left out. He went back to kicking at the rock,
sullenly tuning out the rest of the Slytherin gossip while he waited for Draco. He reckoned
that he could go back to the house by himself, but wasn’t keen on discovering what kind of
reaction Narcissa would have if he arrived without Draco.
The woman had been much nicer than Harry had ever imagined, but she had been a Death
Eater. He was sure she could turn into a right nasty bitch if she had to. That simply turned his
thoughts towards Bellatrix. That woman really was a nasty bitch—an insane nasty bitch. It
wasn’t a good combination in Harry’s opinion.
He may be making peace with a few Slytherins, but it would never happen with Bellatrix. He
recognized that his loathing for the woman went far beyond anything he’d ever felt for any of
the Malfoys, or even Snape when he’d hated him the most. Even thinking her name was
enough to set him on edge almost instantly.
He couldn’t define what exactly made her different. Snape had killed Dumbledore, and
Bellatrix had killed Sirius. Somehow, he was working with Snape, yet he was fairly certain
he could muster up the ability to kill Bellatrix. He’d successfully cast the curse once and he
wasn’t feeling any qualms about killing her if given the opportunity.
As he sat and thought about it, he realized that Snape could kill if he had to, but he didn’t
enjoy it. Bellatrix, on the other hand, gloried in the killing.
“Harry.”
Scowling furiously over his thoughts, Harry focused in on Draco. “What?” he asked angrily.
Draco’s brow was furrowed in concern. “What were you thinking about?” he asked.
Harry dropped his forehead into his hands, his shoulders slumping. He simply shook his head
in answer, not wanting to talk about it.
“Potter, I was mocking you earlier,” Blaise said slowly. “But were you actually plotting
against the Dark Lord?”
“Someone has to,” Harry muttered.
“Fuck, Potter!” Blaise exclaimed. “Do you honestly believe you’re going to defeat the Dark
Lord by yourself?”
Harry lifted his head enough to look at him. “Yes, I’ll defeat him,” he said, with hard
confidence lacing his tone. “I’m not doing it by myself, though. Even you’re doing your part
to help, Zabini.”
Blaise stared at him unblinkingly for long seconds before glancing at Draco.
“He’s real,” Draco said quietly.
Harry thought it was an odd thing for him to say, but Blaise seemed to understand it, nodding
slowly in acceptance. Harry wasn’t pleased when Draco pulled Blaise further away and
began whispering to him rather urgently.
He was pretty sure he wouldn’t have to watch them kissing, at least, if Blaise was looking for
a more exciting girl to date. He thought it was a difficult enough task to find girls to date and
had to wonder how Draco planned to find boys willing to go out with him, especially if he
was hiding with Harry. Draco would just have to wait, Harry thought with a great deal of
satisfaction.
He didn’t have time to dwell on those thoughts as Draco suddenly declared that it was time
for them to leave. Harry was more than ready to go back to the Dursleys.
He was feeling awkward when they arrived back at Harry’s room with Narcissa fussing over
them both worriedly. With no way of getting past the woman aside from climbing the
furniture, he ended up following Draco’s lead and giving her a kiss on the cheek in
reassurance. It worked and she allowed him to pass.
Harry drifted through the rest of the evening feeling rather bemused by everything. It was
much easier when he simply avoided thinking about any of it, but he found himself
unaccountably more nervous when it came time for them to go to sleep again. It was late and
the Dursleys had already gone to bed. With some judicious use of Silencing Charms, they
each made use of the loo and prepared for bed. He didn’t comment when Draco retrieved
pyjamas for them both and they both changed quickly while Narcissa was in the bathroom.
It wasn’t helping him at all that Draco was uncharacteristically quiet. He simply climbed into
bed and turned on his side to face the wall as he had the night before. Harry laid down, flat on
his back. If he turned on his right side, then he was facing Draco’s back. If he turned on his
left side, then he was facing Narcissa on the other side of the room. Lying on his back seemed
the safest way to go.
He didn’t understand why he should be feeling so much more tense than he had the night
before. He finally decided that it was because the night before there’d been a crisis, as such,
involved. Something he could deal with. Tonight, he didn’t know what to expect.
Draco didn’t seem to be crying, at least. Feeling horrible for the thought, Harry almost
wished that Draco was crying. He’d know what to do now if he had to hold Draco and soothe
him until he fell asleep.
Eventually, he slept.
The next morning, Harry woke up alone in the bed. At least, he’d been alone until Draco
flopped down on the bed and Victoria was unceremoniously landed on his chest.
“It’s time for breakfast,” Draco said, smirking at him.
Harry glared at him blearily, wondering how he could be so bloody cheerful. Draco wasn’t
supposed to be cheerful, especially first thing in the morning. Victoria was being demanding
in her own way, and Harry grudgingly got up to start the day.
The morning was actually going fairly peaceably and Harry was dumping the brightly
coloured blocks out of the shape sorter again for Victoria when Winky popped into the room,
looking anxious.
“What is it, Winky?” Harry asked, brow furrowed in concern.
“Message for Master Harry,” Winky said, handing him a parchment. Harry accepted it warily.
He was getting real tired of these messages already, and since he was with Draco, there was
only one other person it could be from.
Harry scowled as he read the parchment. Snatching his wand off the nightstand, he cast
Incendio to burn it. He nodded at Winky. “Thanks,” he muttered.
She nodded nervously, but popped out again.
“What now?” Draco asked.
“I’ve got things to do,” Harry said, by way of answering, his tone making it clear that was all
he was going to say about it.
“Do you know when you will be back?” Narcissa asked worriedly.
“I have no idea,” Harry grumbled. “I’ve got to deal with . . . with something. Then, I’ve still
got a bunch of potions to brew, especially since I didn’t get any of them done yesterday. I
promised Madam Pomfrey I’d have them to her soon.”
“Won’t your relatives be gone the next two days?” Draco asked suddenly.
“Yeah, I think so,” Harry answered absently, searching for his shoes. Draco reached under
Victoria’s cot to find them, before handing them to Harry.
“Thanks,” Harry said, wondering how Draco always seemed to know where everything was.
“Well, if you brought the supplies here, couldn’t I help you with the potions? We could work
down in the kitchen,” Draco suggested.
Harry stilled, and glanced up at Draco from his position of tying the laces on his trainers.
Harry thought about it quickly as he finished tying his shoes. It was an outlandish idea to
brew potions in the Dursley’s kitchen, especially with a fully equipped lab at Grimmauld
Place. But Harry would have help, and Draco was good at potions. And Draco desperately
wanted something to do.
How would he cover that with Snape, though? He could just tell Snape he was having
Hermione help him. He frowned, trying to remember if he’d told Snape that he planned on
having Hermione help in the first place. And Hermione, he still didn’t know what to tell her,
either. Maybe he could just say he bought them.
He sat up slowly and took in Draco’s hopeful expression. “I’d appreciate the help,” he
admitted. “I’ll see what I can do today to get everything we’ll need.”
“Good,” Draco said, nodding in satisfaction.
Harry stood and stuffed his wand into the back pocket of his jeans. Narcissa stopped him with
a hand on his arm, and he looked at her questioningly.
“Is this something dangerous?” she asked, looking worried.
Harry was a bit startled to realize she seemed genuinely concerned about him, even without
Draco going with him. He slowly shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he said. He couldn’t say
for sure that it wasn’t dangerous, considering Snape was involved. “It’s just something that I
need to deal with.”
Narcissa nodded but gave Harry a quick hug. “Be careful,” she murmured quietly.
“I will,” Harry said bemusedly before walking out.
Narcissa Malfoy was much quieter than Mrs. Weasley, but Harry suddenly realized they were
both mothers, and they were both looking out for him. Was there some universal code that
required mothers to look out for wayward, orphaned children? If so, then how did Aunt
Petunia fit into that? Was she just working on some delayed reaction that was causing her to
be more helpful lately? Was it a witch’s code, rather than a Muggle code? Shaking off
thoughts of either Narcissa or Aunt Petunia actually being worried about him, of all people,
he hurried to the Apparition point. Snape would not appreciate waiting for him.
He wasn’t surprised to see Snape glaring at him the second he walked into the potions room.
“Why were you not already here, Potter?” Snape sneered. “You have work to be doing.”
“I know I’ve got work to do,” Harry snapped.
“I don’t have time for your laziness,” Snape said coldly.
“I’m not being lazy,” Harry said hotly. “I just can’t do everything at once. It’s been one thing
after another for days now.”
Snape looked at him sharply. “Ah, yes, would you care to explain your sudden emergency?”
he asked, eyes narrowed.
“I’ve got Scrimgeour on my arse,” Harry snapped, skipping over the part about Draco and
Narcissa and telling Snape about the second problem of that night.
“Why?” Snape demanded.
“The bastard wants to use me because I’m the fucking Chosen One,” Harry said bitterly.
“He’s been trying since last Christmas to get me to be this grand icon of the Light and he
wants me to support the Ministry.”
“And you didn’t jump at the chance for more publicity?” Snape sneered maliciously.
“No, I didn’t,” Harry said, still sounding extremely bitter. “But this time the bastard tried to
blackmail me.”
Snape’s eyes widened marginally in surprise. “He tried to blackmail you?”
Harry suddenly smirked. “Yes, but it didn’t go how he wanted it to,” he said in satisfaction.
“He tried to use Victoria against me. Instead, I’ve now got papers that give me full custody,
Stan Shunpike and the other people held on false charges have been released, and the
Ministry is finally conducting a clean up of their employees.”
“Scrimgeour agreed to all that?” Snape asked in disbelief.

“Yes,” Harry said smugly. “And all I have to do is have another one of those stupid articles
published like I did back in fifth year. Hermione and Ginny are writing some hopeful
message to the public in my name and Luna is going to have her dad publish it.”
“What does this article say?” Snape asked suspiciously.
“Oh, nothing major,” Harry said dismissively. “And I get final say before it goes to be
published.” He frowned as he remembered the argument with Ron. “Actually, I’ve already
gotten into a fight about it. Ron thinks I’m being an idiot for refusing to add how I’m going
to wreck vengeance against you and Malfoy for what happened.”
“I’m sure the public would enjoy hearing about how their Chosen One plans to attack the
Death Eaters responsible for such a reprehensible attack on Hogwarts and Albus
Dumbledore,” Snape said stiffly. “Surely that is what Scrimgeour expects you to say.”
“I don’t really give a fuck what Scrimgeour expects,” Harry retorted. “He wants me to ‘boost
morale’ and ‘restore hope’, then that’s what I’ll do. But I’ll do it my way, not his.”
Snape was eying him contemplatively, and Harry took the opportunity to actually study
Snape. The man wasn’t looking good at all.
“Is everything all right, sir?” Harry asked, not realizing how much concern was reflected in
his tone.
Snape’s eyes narrowed again as they flashed angrily. “No, everything is not all right,” he
spat.
“What’s wrong?” Harry said quickly.
“Nothing that concerns you,” Snape answered.
Harry blinked in surprise. He’d honestly expected to be told about the Malfoys’
disappearance.
“Then, what’s the problem?” Harry asked.
“I will be unavailable the next few days,” Snape said curtly.
Harry was sure Snape was going to still be out looking for the Malfoys. He bit his lip as he
debated whether he should tell Snape what he knew. He knew Draco would be horrified if he
told Snape, but then Draco didn’t know Snape was a spy. Harry still wasn’t sure how Snape
would react, either, considering Harry still didn’t have any real proof of the Malfoys’
loyalties. There was just enough doubt on Harry’s part to hold his tongue for the time being.
Snape was eyeing him contemptuously. “You will have to manage the potions on your own,
but I have not left you without instructions,” he sneered.
Harry glared at the man, but didn’t speak. He was grateful Snape mistook his silence as a
different worry.
“Perhaps Ms. Granger will be able to help you brew them,” Snape said. “Merlin knows you
could use the help.”
Harry’s nostrils flared, but he bit his tongue. This was actually working in his favour, and he
was determined not to rise to the bait.
“You are aware, of course, that you will have to do your brewing elsewhere if you wish
someone to help,” Snape said coldly, watching Harry carefully. “This residence is under the
Fidelius Charm still, but Dumbledore made me the Secret Keeper.”
Harry stared at him in shock, his anger wiped away. Snape looked distinctly satisfied with
Harry’s reaction.
“I warned you that I would not allow you to bring any of your little friends here,” Snape
sneered.
That’s not actually what Harry was worried about, but if that’s what Snape wanted to think,
then Harry would let him. He realized uncomfortably, though, that Snape would have to be
told about the Malfoys before Harry would ever be allowed to bring them there. There was no
other possible way of getting around it. He was suddenly aware that he’d been
subconsciously hoping for some other solution that would avoid the inevitable confrontation.
“What about Victoria?” Harry asked, still sounding stunned.
“The wards are adjusted to admit her,” Snape grudgingly admitted.
“Thank you,” Harry said, relieved that he could bring her to Grimmauld Place at least.
“The rooms are not fully suitable yet for a child,” Snape said sternly. “You will allow your
house-elf to get this place respectable first.”
“Yes, sir,” Harry said, still feeling a little dazed. What was he going to do about Draco and
Narcissa?
Harry grit his teeth and put up with Snape’s scathing insults as Snape went over the rest of
the potions that Harry needed to brew for Madam Pomfrey. He was grateful Snape marked
each of the pages in his books, with all the appropriate extra notes, for every potion.
Harry was given a list of what ingredients they had available, and a list of ingredients that he
was to go out and purchase. There were specific notes there as well. What to check for
regarding smell, texture and appearance for each item. Harry bemoaned the fact that he
would ever actually understand potions. He could follow directions, though.
And for once, Snape’s directions were completely thorough. He obviously wasn’t leaving
anything up for Harry’s inaccurate guesswork when it came to potions.
All in all, Harry was left feeling overwhelmed and wondering why he’d ever thought he
could handle this. Looking over all the meticulous notes, though, he was reminded why.
Snape knew what he was doing, even if Harry didn’t.
He sighed heavily as he went over all the notes after Snape left. He would have to carefully
rewrite every one of them down on clean parchment. Surely Draco would recognize Snape’s
handwriting. It would give Harry a chance to study them, at least, so maybe he’d have at least
a bit of a clue as to what he was doing.
“Winky,” Harry called. He still felt a little odd every time he called her, but especially when it
wasn’t an actual emergency of any kind.
She popped in almost immediately. “Yes, Master Harry?” Winky said.
“Could you get me some clean parchment, quill and ink?” Harry asked. “Um, I’m not sure
how much I actually have, but maybe Draco’s got some.”
Winky arrived back shortly with the materials Harry had asked for and a message from Draco
that stated Harry was an unorganized prat.
Harry grinned, thanked Winky, and sent her to bring him and the Malfoys some lunch. He
absently munched on some sandwiches and crisps as he started carefully copying everything
he needed.
Next item on his to-do list for the day was to run to the Apothecary in Diagon Alley. That
wasn’t exactly his favourite shop, but it was a little more worrisome this time because he was
actually going to be alone.
He frowned, trying to figure out if he had any other options. Diagon Alley wasn’t exactly the
safest of places anymore. But there wasn’t anyone he could take with him, either. He couldn’t
take Hermione because she’d ask too many questions, and then wonder why he wasn’t asking
her to help brew.
Draco was the obvious choice, but Draco couldn’t go to Diagon Alley. And he certainly
couldn’t go anywhere with Harry Potter. Harry shuddered to even think of that nightmare.
But as long as he wasn’t seen with Harry Potter . . .
Harry boxed up the supplies and his notes and Apparated back to the Dursleys.
Draco looked downright excited when Harry came in and dropped the box of potions supplies
on his – their – bed. Harry shot him a look of mild disgust, as Draco started rifling through
the box. “There’s got to be something unhealthy about your fascination with potions,” Harry
said.
“It’s just too subtle for you, Harry,” Draco said absently, finding Harry’s parchment sheets
and flipping through them.
Harry rolled his eyes, but looked on with fond amusement. He definitely had the right people
helping him with the potions. He glanced at Narcissa, who was watching them both with a
warm smile.
“Everything go okay?” she asked.

Harry shrugged. “Well enough, but I need to go to Diagon Alley still to get the rest of the
ingredients,” he answered.
Narcissa’s gaze instantly turned back to one of worry and Harry suddenly had Draco’s
attention again.
“You’re going by yourself?” Draco asked sharply.
Harry shrugged again. “I’m not sure I really have much choice,” he said, but he was eying
Draco calculatingly.
“Surely your friends will go with you, at least,” Narcissa said. “It’s not safe in Diagon Alley
right now.”
Harry nodded in response to her statement, but he was still eyeing Draco, who seemed to be
catching on to Harry’s line of thinking.
Harry flicked his gaze to Narcissa briefly. “My friends think I’m brewing just the simplest of
the potions and that I’m buying the rest,” he said. “There’d be too many questions if I take
them with me to buy ingredients.”
“It’s hard to find quality potions to buy,” Narcissa said, frowning.
“I know,” Harry said. “But my friends also know I’ve got weird connections.”
He heard Narcissa’s sharp inhale and he looked at her fully. “I had Scrimgeour here a few
nights ago,” he said. “My friends know that and I reckon I can mislead them in that direction.
They don’t ever speak to him, so they’re not going to know where I got the potions from.”
Narcissa nodded, and Harry could tell she was relieved. It simply reinforced that there was
still bits of mistrust between them, even though they were all trying. Harry looked back to
Draco.
“It would be handy if you had someone watching your back,” Draco said casually.
Harry smirked at him. “Yes, it would,” he said. “Particularly someone who knew what the
bloody hell they were talking about when it came to buying potions ingredients.”
“Where’s the cloak?” Draco asked, smirking in return.
Narcissa was eying them suspiciously. “You surely can’t be considering going with him?” she
asked Draco.
“Yes,” Draco said simply.
“Draco, it’s dangerous for . . .,” she trailed off and looked back and forth between the two
boys. “It’s dangerous for both of you,” she sighed.
“I think you could put us at the top of the most wanted lists for either side of this war,” Harry
agreed cheerfully. “I’m afraid Draco doesn’t actually make number one, though,” he added
mock regretfully.
Draco choked as he stared at Harry. Narcissa was glaring at Harry reproachfully.
“Oh, come on,” Harry said. “There’s something funny about a high profile Malfoy Death
Eater and Harry Potter going out shopping together.” He cocked his head to the side
thoughtfully. “I bet there’s a ton of good jokes in that somewhere. I wonder if Fred and
George could come up with some,” he mused.
“Harry, you have a very warped sense of humour,” Draco drawled, but his lips were quirking
with suppressed amusement.
Harry shrugged, a casual roll of his shoulders. “It’s either find the humour or go mental. I’d
rather laugh,” he said.
He bit his lip thoughtfully. “I might actually be able to get a fairly unquestioning escort,” he
said, thinking more about Fred and George.
“Who?” Draco demanded.
“I hadn’t considered them earlier, but Fred and George would go with me,” Harry admitted.
“They know how to keep secrets,” he added when Draco glared at him disbelievingly.
“They’d run straight to the others,” Draco scoffed. “They’re Weasleys,” he said in disgust.
Harry glared at him, but didn’t call him out for his tone regarding the Weasleys. “I’m not
going to break your trust, but if I wanted, I could tell Fred and George about you and they’d
keep their mouths shut,” he said coldly.
Draco’s eyes narrowed. “They wouldn’t. I’ve been responsible for three of their brothers
getting hurt.”
“They wouldn’t keep their mouths shut for your sake,” Harry said. “They’d keep quiet for
mine.”
That made Draco pause. “Why wouldn’t they say anything?” he questioned, shifting the
conversation slightly.
That was a good question, Harry realized, and he thought about it a moment before
answering. Ron and Hermione would never keep something like harbouring Draco Malfoy
quiet, but he knew the twins would. The question was why?
“Fred and George don’t have the same respect for authority as the others do,” Harry said
slowly. “They don’t really think war is a game, but they treat it as such. They trust me, and
respect me, I suppose,” he said thoughtfully. “I’m kind of the . . .,” he trailed off, trying to
figure out what he was.
“The master player?” Draco interjected wryly, following what Harry was saying.
Harry shrugged. “I reckon master player works,” he said in agreement. “They won’t play the
game the way anyone wants, but they see me as the master player. I’m sure they would find
this situation hilarious.” He gave a lopsided smile. “I think they’d actually be proud of me.”
“They’d be proud of you for hiding me out here,” Draco said flatly.
“Yeah,” Harry said, his smile widening. “They’d keep my secrets, but most likely with the
condition that they could be around to watch the fallout when everyone else eventually found
out. They’d be ordering up extra popcorn in advance, just for the eventual occasion.”
“I’m a Death Eater,” Draco spoke slowly and clearly as if trying to make sure Harry could
understand.
Harry rolled his eyes. “I know that and they know that,” he said. “I also know they value
their lives more than yours.”
Draco’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he snapped.
Harry glared at him. “It means, you prat, that they aren’t going to fuck with me. If I told them
to leave you alone, they would. Like everyone else, they know I’m the one trying to keep
everyone safe and I have the opportunities to make it happen. They’ll wonder, but they won’t
question me. They’ll accept that, whatever my reasons are for protecting you, ultimately I’m
still working to save the Wizarding world.”
“The Chosen One,” Draco murmured.
“Yes, isn’t it brilliant that I’m the fucking Chosen One?” Harry said sarcastically.
Draco blinked at him. “You’ve finally figured out that you’re the leader for the Light side,
haven’t you?”
“It’s been rather hard to miss recently,” Harry retorted. “I’ve got Malfoys in my bloody room,
Order members actually listening to me, Scrimgeour inexplicably caving to my demands,
Zabini looking to me for help, and even my aunt’s being halfway helpful.”
“Everyone’s scared and they believe that you’re their only hope,” Draco said quietly.
“I bloody well know why I’m actually getting some cooperation,” Harry said bitterly. “The
only thing I really have to do in return is save the entire fucking Wizarding world!”
Draco arched a brow at his outburst. “So, you’re trying to say that the Weasley twins would
cooperate with you,” he drawled.
Harry heaved a sigh of frustration. “No, I was trying to say that I wanted to go to Diagon
Alley,” he muttered, “but somehow, it’s turned into a huge ordeal.”
“And you wish to take him with you to Diagon Alley,” Narcissa interjected wryly.
Harry quirked a half-smile. “Yeah, actually, I do,” he said ruefully. “He knows potions better
than me and would be a big help with the actual shopping I need to do. He also knows the
other Death Eaters, so it would make sense to have him with me keeping watch. It’d also be
nice to have someone with me who knows how to use their wand in case something actually
did happen.”
“You would still be seen as alone,” Narcissa pointed out.
“Not much I can do about that,” Harry said with a shrug. “But I’d rather have some backup
with me, even if they are invisible.”
“What about Draco’s safety?” Narcissa questioned.
Harry looked at her steadily. “I don’t intend for anything to happen to him,” he said seriously.
“If something happens that’s too big to handle, I expect him to get his arse back here and
send a message to the Weasleys immediately. He could keep it anonymous – have Aunt
Petunia actually write it or something – but provide whatever information possible so the
Order would be able to have at least a clue about what happened to me.”
“We both know I’m a huge target,” Harry said. “I don’t expect, or even want, Draco to stand
out with me. Between the two of us, though, I think we’ve got a pretty good chance of
keeping watch so nothing happens in the first place.”
“The Invisibility Cloak is not fool proof,” Narcissa said.
“No, it’s not,” Harry agreed thoughtfully. “And it’s actually a problem if Moody is around. A
Disillusionment Charm along with the cloak should solve that problem, at least.”
Narcissa sighed. “I don’t want either of you going,” she said.
“I know you don’t,” Harry said quietly. He felt a little strange trying to reassure Narcissa
Malfoy, but was doing it anyway. “But we’re just going to Diagon Alley.”
She nodded in resignation. “I know you’ve got to do what you must,” she said.
“Thank you,” Harry said, nodding at her gratefully. He turned to Draco, who had that
calculating expression on his face again.
“What now?” Harry asked, eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“You’d be better protected if you had both visible and invisible protection,” Draco said.
Harry’s brow furrowed. “We’ve gone over this,” he said slowly.
Draco hesitated a moment. “Yes, we have. And you’ve stated that you could get the Weasley
twins’ cooperation,” he said.
Harry’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Are you suggesting I actually tell them about you?” he
exclaimed incredulously.
Draco closed his eyes briefly as he grimaced. “I trust you,” he said firmly, opening his eyes to
meet Harry’s gaze directly.
*****
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Notes

Chapter Sixteen
Fred and George escorted Harry up to the flat above their shop, and noted with interest that
Harry held the door open longer than necessary before shutting it behind him.
“Oooh, how exciting,” said Fred. “It would seem you’ve brought us extra company today,
Harry?”
Harry nodded. “You have Silencing wards up in here?” he asked.
“Of course,” Fred said haughtily. “We can’t have the customers downstairs wondering what
the odd noises are up here.”
“What’s up, Harry?” George asked with interest. “We’ve been assuming you were sneaking
Ginny about or something, but I don’t believe you need privacy for Ginny in our flat.”
“You never know what they might be wanting to get up to,” said Fred, waggling his
eyebrows.
“True,” George conceded, and looked back to Harry, waiting expectantly.
Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m not even seeing your sister anymore,” he muttered as he turned
and nodded to his invisible partner.
Suddenly, Harry was handed his Invisibility Cloak and a muttered charm was heard. Draco
Malfoy appeared, standing beside Harry and watching the twins warily.
The twins’ eyebrows rose to their hairlines, and they exchanged a glance before looking back
at Harry.
“You know you’re with Malfoy?” Fred asked.
Harry nodded, watching the twins intently.
Fred and George nodded as they worked to process that information.
“Well, Harry,” George said slowly. “I must say, I didn’t expect you and Ginny to last, but I
never expected Malfoy to be your next conquest.”
Harry spluttered indignantly. “He’s not . . . I’m not . . .”
Fred and George grinned, happy to have turned the tables and rendered Harry incoherent.
Draco relaxed fractionally and smirked at Harry. “We are sleeping together, Harry,” he
drawled.
Harry glared at Draco as the twins burst out laughing. “But we’re not sleeping together,”
Harry snapped.
“But you look so sexy wearing my pyjamas,” Draco purred seductively.
Harry’s eyebrows rose. “But I . . . we’re not . . .”
“Our little Harry, all grown up,” Fred cooed.
“All right, that’s enough,” Harry said irritably, glaring at all three of them. Deciding he didn’t
care if the three hexed each other into oblivion, Harry turned his back on them and stalked
over to flop down on the nearest couch.
“Uh, Harry,” George said, his tone curious. “Is it all right if we turn our backs on this bloke?”
“Probably not,” Harry grumbled. “He might try checking you out.”
“Potter! That’s disgusting!” Draco exclaimed, as the twins started sniggering.
Fred and George walked over and flopped onto the couch opposite of Harry, but he didn’t
miss that they had their wands in hand. Harry looked over his shoulder at Draco, who was
grimacing in disgust.
“Just come sit down, wanker,” Harry said.
Draco sneered at him, but moved to sit down stiffly next to Harry, regardless. His wand was
also tightly gripped.
“So, Harry,” Fred began with a pleasant, conversational tone. “You do know that we should
be turning him in after torturing him mercilessly.”
Harry shrugged. “Yeah, but we’re not going to,” he said.
Fred and George nodded, processing Harry’s answer. “All right, so what are we doing with
him?” George asked.
Harry glanced at the scowling Draco. “Making him sleep on the floor tonight for being such a
prat?” he suggested coyly.
“There isn’t even enough room on the floor,” Draco said irritably.
“You deserve it,” Harry retorted. “I can’t believe you’re misleading them like that. And it’s
your fault I had to wear your pyjamas,” he added.
Draco didn’t get a chance to answer.
“You two really are sleeping together?” Fred asked, eyebrows raised incredulously.
“Yeah, but it’s not like that,” Harry said defensively. “You two have seen my room at the
Dursleys. There isn’t a whole lot of room to start with, and now I’ve got . . . guests,” he said,
turning to sneer the last word at Draco.
“Victoria?” George questioned.
“Yes,” Harry answered, leaving Narcissa out of it for the time being.
Fred and George were nodding again. Amongst the banter and bickering, they were still
trying to process the situation.
“Bill and Charlie and Ron?” Fred questioned.
Harry knew what Fred meant. He was thankful Fred wasn’t actually making accusations, but
Fred still wanted to know why they weren’t taking revenge on Malfoy for what happened to
his brothers.
“Well, it was an accident with Ron and Draco wasn’t supposed to start duelling with
Charlie,” Harry said, trying to sound reasonable.
“It wasn’t my fault!” Draco exclaimed. “I told you that!”
“It’s because of your hair that he recognized you,” Harry retorted. “I was going to tell you
that I think we should dye it black or something.”
“I’m not dying my hair!” Draco said, sounding horrified.
“It’d help keep you from being recognized as quickly,” Harry said reasonably.
“I’d look awful with black hair,” Draco said, beginning to look a little ill.
“But it’d match those black shadows under your eyes so well,” Harry said innocently. It was
beside the point that Draco had cast glamours to cover them. Harry still knew they were
there.
Draco smacked Harry on the back of the head, glaring daggers at him. Harry had been
expecting something in retaliation, though, and just started laughing.
“I have to admit, your hair also helped me find you so I could get your arse out of there,”
Harry said, still grinning. He wasn’t about to admit that he rather liked Draco’s blond hair.
“If you hadn’t made me go in the first place, you wouldn’t have had to get me out of there,”
Draco said moodily.
“If I hadn’t made you go?” Harry asked, incredulously. “If I hadn’t made you go, you’d
probably be dead right now.”
Draco crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not talking about this anymore in front of them,”
he said, with a jerk of his head toward the twins. “And I’m still not dying my hair,” he
muttered.
Giving Draco one last, exasperated look, Harry turned his attention back to the twins. Fred
and George were staring wide-eyed at them.
Harry smiled sheepishly. “Um, yes, well, Charlie didn’t get hurt too badly, right?”
Draco snorted, muttering under his breath.
“Shut it,” Harry snapped. “I healed you, didn’t I?”
Draco shot him a glare, but didn’t bother to answer.
“Hey, Harry, did you know Bill has been suddenly healed?” George questioned abruptly,
watching Harry closely.
“Um, yeah,” Harry answered. “Ron sent me a letter telling me about it.”
“It sounds a bit mysterious to us,” Fred said. “Bill claims he doesn’t know how he recovered
so well and so suddenly. Says the potions and such must have finally done their job.”
“That’s good to hear,” Harry said, smiling innocently.
Fred and George snorted in amusement. “Yeah, I reckon it’s good for you to hear that he’s
claiming he doesn’t know anything,” said Fred.
Harry turned serious. “Bill doesn’t know anything,” he said. “Yes, I snuck back in after I’d
left and I healed him. He’s knows that, but he doesn’t know anything else.”
The twins nodded in acceptance.

“You are the only two who I’m trusting to know about Draco,” Harry continued. “I need you
to keep it quiet.”
George shrugged. “Yeah, probably wise not to tell the others,” he agreed, glancing at Draco.
“So, what do you need us for?” Fred asked, his tone accepting.
Harry smiled gratefully. “A couple things. One, I needed someone to know about Draco. In
case there’s any trouble, he’ll now be able to contact you two, then you’d be able to pass
word along to everyone else.”
“Planning on getting into trouble, Harry?” George asked with a grin.
“Not planning on it,” Harry muttered. “It just happens.”
“You don’t plan on trouble, but you decided to branch out and associate with a Death Eater?”
Fred asked, grinning just as broadly as his twin.
“Shut it,” Harry grumbled. He noticed Draco was smirking at him again as well.
“I do hate to say it, but they have a point, Potter,” Draco drawled pleasantly.
Harry groaned in frustration. To hell with everything else, he was in real trouble if these three
started getting along and ganging up on him. “I hate all three of you, I hope you know this,”
he muttered.
He closed his eyes and dropped his head to the back of the couch, trying to ignore the
sniggering of the other three. He felt Draco’s hand patting him on the shoulder. “There, there,
Potter. I hate you, too, so there’s no reason to feel bad,” Draco said in mock sympathy.
Harry cracked his eyes open and turned his head enough to glare at Draco. “Why do I feel
like I would’ve been better off if I’d just gone alone?” he asked.
Draco sobered and sat back. “It’s not safe,” he said flatly.
Exhaling heavily, Harry sat up straight again. The twins were looking at him curiously with a
hint of worry.
“If Malfoy’s concerned, there’s a problem, Harry,” George said.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” Harry said. “I’ve just got to finish brewing the potions for
Madam Pomfrey, but I need to buy the ingredients.”
He explained how Draco was going to be helping him with the brewing, and why he couldn’t
take the others with him. Fred and George understood, and agreed that it wasn’t safe to be
going about Diagon Alley alone. Especially if you were Harry Potter.
“A few of the ingredients on his list are only going to be found in Knockturn Alley,” Draco
added.
Harry looked at him sharply. “You didn’t tell me that,” he said.
Draco shrugged. “There’s a reason why I agreed to you telling these two,” he said flatly. “Bad
enough for you to be wandering Diagon Alley alone. You need someone visible with you
walking into Knockturn Alley.”
“Maybe we should just pick up those ingredients for you, then,” Fred suggested.
“We head down there fairly frequently for ingredients we need for our products,” George
agreed.
Harry was looking at Fred and George and didn’t notice the flash of relief that crossed
Draco’s features, but the twins did. Fred and George exchanged a glance then looked at
Draco, eyebrows raised in question.
Harry glanced at Draco curiously, noticing that Draco was scowling at him again. “What’s
your problem now?” Harry asked in bewilderment. “We should be thankful they’re willing to
get those other ingredients for us. I don’t really want to be heading into Knockturn Alley if I
don’t have to.”
Draco kept his gaze trained on Harry, but Harry didn’t realize Draco was deliberately
avoiding the twins. “It doesn’t surprise me those two are used to wandering in areas they
don’t belong,” Draco sneered.
“For Merlin’s sake!” Harry exclaimed. “It’s not like I need you wandering around in
Knockturn Alley, anyway. When you shop down there, all hell breaks loose. I’ll take my
chances on Fred and George.”
“You do that, then,” Draco said contemptuously.
Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Look, can we just get on with all this?” he asked.
Draco waved his hand, indicating Harry should go right ahead with his plans. Harry ran a
hand through his hair, trying to figure out what was going on. Something had just happened;
he was sure of it. But he couldn’t figure out what it was.
“I need to stop at Gringott’s first,” Harry said, letting it go. “The last time I was there, I
hadn’t expected to be buying a bunch of potions ingredients.”
“When was the last time you were there?” Fred asked curiously. “Surely you haven’t been
there recently.”
“Um, recently,” Harry admitted, but he wasn’t ready to tell them about Winky.
“Well, I’ll go with you,” Fred said, not questioning Harry any further. “And George can stay
here with Malfoy for now.”
“Works for me,” George said with a shrug.
But Draco looked horrified. “I’m not staying here!” he exclaimed.

“Sure you can,” George said easily. “You can help me pick out some products for Harry
while we wait.”
Draco blanched and looked at Harry, slightly panicked. “Potter?” he said pleadingly.
Harry grabbed Draco’s arm and pulled him off to the side. Glancing at the twins suspiciously,
he placed a Silencing Charm around him and Draco.
“Draco, you can’t go with me into Gringott’s,” Harry said quickly. “You know that.”
“I can just wait outside like I was planning on doing,” Draco said. “I don’t want to stay here.”
“George is right, though,” Harry said. “You can pick out some of the useful stuff they’ve got.
I know you’re familiar with their products,” he said wryly.
Draco looked pained.
“Draco, they’re not going to try to hurt you or anything,” Harry said cajolingly. “They’re just
trying to keep us both as safe as possible. Since we have their help, there’s no reason for you
to risk yourself, waiting alone while I’m in Gringott’s.”
“Harry, they have no reason to keep me safe,” Draco snapped.
“Have they done anything?” Harry asked pointedly. “Have they even asked many questions?”
“No,” Draco ground out. “But they will as soon as you’re gone.”
“George won’t,” Harry insisted. “He doesn’t trust you enough to leave you alone here, but he
trusts my judgment enough to know that I want to keep you as safe as possible. This is the
best way.”
“I won’t stay here with some Weasel,” Draco sneered.
Harry took a deep breath. If Draco wanted to play that way, then fine. “If you don’t stay here,
then I’ll have to tell your mum that you were deliberately putting yourself at risk when you
didn’t have to,” he said.
“Leave my mother out of it,” Draco snapped.
Harry smirked. “No,” he said smugly. “I think your mum would be quite interested in hearing
about this.”
Draco scowled, obviously knowing Harry was right. Harry was laughing inside. Draco was
willing to stand up to his mother when things were important enough, but Harry knew Draco
had limits.
“I thought Gryffindors were supposed to play fair,” Draco muttered.
Harry grinned, but managed to keep the laughter suppressed. “As you pointed out, I’ve got a
few Slytherin tendencies that come in handy sometimes,” he said. “So, will you stay?” he
asked.
Still scowling, Draco took down the Silencing Charm and stalked over to drop down sullenly
onto the couch.
“Let’s go, Fred,” Harry said brightly. “Oh, and Draco, don’t eat or drink anything George
might try to offer you.”
George waved them out cheerfully. Harry and Fred managed to make it to the street before
bursting out into laughter.
“Merlin! You’re good, Harry,” said Fred in admiration. “I don’t know what you just said to
him, but I’m quite shocked that it was so effective.”
Harry grinned. “I know how to hit him where it counts,” he said.
Fred shook his head in amazement, and they were silent for a minute as they walked. “You do
know that you’ve chosen quite the sneaky protector, don’t you?” he asked suddenly.
Harry frowned thoughtfully. “I didn’t exactly choose him,” he said slowly.
“Maybe not,” Fred said. “But he came to us, knowing where we get some of our ingredients,
and hoping we’d take on that task for you.”
“He wouldn’t have asked you two to do that,” Harry protested.
“And he didn’t ask,” Fred agreed. “But he looked terribly relieved, though, when we
volunteered to do it. I never would’ve expected it, but he seems quite interested,” Fred
hesitated a moment before adding, “in protecting you.”
Harry shrugged it off. “He needs me,” he said. “It serves his interests if I’m kept alive.”
Fred gave Harry a sidelong glance as they walked up the steps to the bank. “If you say so,
Harry,” he said.
Harry frowned, not understanding Fred’s tone, but he didn’t question as they stepped into the
bank. It was business as usual, and it wasn’t long before Fred and Harry were walking back.
“Do you think they’re doing all right while we’ve been gone?” Harry asked a bit nervously.
Fred shrugged. “Depends on your boy,” he said.
“He’s not my boy,” Harry said irritably.
Fred grinned. “You picked him up somehow, not us.”
“I didn’t –“ Harry cut himself off, knowing it was useless. Hadn’t he himself teased Draco
about picking up strays? It would probably be simpler if he just went along with the teasing.
Fred grinned even wider. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Harry,” he said.
“Well, you know me. I like ‘em feisty with a lot of attitude,” Harry said sarcastically.
Fred burst out laughing. “First Ginny and now – yeah, I’d say you’re right,” he said.
Harry rolled his eyes but then glanced at Fred curiously. “You’re not upset about me breaking
it off with Ginny?” he asked.
“Nah, you two are too much like family to each other to make a good couple,” Fred said
dismissively. “Besides, Ginny’s tough, but you need someone stronger.”
Harry’s eyebrows rose questioningly. “What do you mean by that?” he asked.
Fred hesitated, looking sombre for once. “You’ve got some serious responsibilities, Harry.
You need someone strong enough for you to lean on once in awhile. Ginny’s one tough little
witch,” he said fondly. “But I don’t know that she’s really strong enough to help with the
burdens you carry around.”
“I wouldn’t let her,” Harry said fiercely. “She’s been through enough, and she doesn’t need to
deal with my responsibilities.”
“Spoken like a good brother, not a good lover,” Fred said quietly.
“Oh,” Harry said. Fred had a point. They lapsed into silence, Harry pondering over Fred’s
words. He had to wonder if there was anyone who would ever really understand all he was
going through that he could lean on for support now and then.
He stumbled slightly as he remembered the conversation with Draco. Draco understood what
it was like having to try to kill off a powerful wizard. He also knew an awful lot about
Harry’s activities, with the only real exceptions being Snape, which would hopefully be dealt
with soon, and the Horcruxes.
He was already leaning on Draco for support. He was sleeping with Draco—comfortably.
He’d comforted Draco in the night. He’d asked Draco to go with him today. He was doing
everything he possibly could to protect Draco. He inexplicably felt safe with Draco. He’d
been obsessing over Draco for at least the last year.
He stopped in the middle of the street.
“All right, mate?” Fred asked.
Harry stared at him, wide-eyed at the way his thoughts were turning.
Fred’s smile was grim when he stopped to face Harry. “Figured out he’s strong enough,
then?”
“There’s nothing going on,” Harry said, feeling ill.
“Something is,” Fred disagreed.
“There’s not,” Harry protested. “It’s just . . . business.”

“Business doesn’t explain you two worrying over each other,” Fred said wryly. “I’m not
honestly sure who is supporting who more, as it does appear to be rather mutual from what I
can see.”
“We’re not,” Harry said quickly.
Fred raised his eyebrows in disbelief.
“I told you, he just needs me alive to serve his interests,” Harry said crossly.
Fred actually laughed. “Yes, I’m sure it’s much better when the person is alive,” he said
suggestively.
“Eww!” Harry grimaced in disgust. The idea of sex with dead people was not a pleasant
thought. But that meant . . . he was thinking about . . . sex . . . with Draco . . . who was very
much alive.
“He’s a boy,” Harry blurted out.
Fred was laughing again. “So what if he’s a boy,” he said dismissively. “He’s got a lot of
issues, I must admit, but the fact that he’s a boy isn’t one of them.”
Harry frowned. “I’m not gay,” he said.
“I’m sure you’re not, after what I’m sure you’ve been up to with my sister,” Fred said dryly.
“I’ve never taken advantage of Ginny,” Harry said defensively.
“Didn’t say you did,” said Fred with a grin. “I’m just not as blind as most of my family.”
Harry ran a hand through his hair as he tried to sort things out. “I liked being with your sister
. . . that way,” he admitted.
Fred shrugged. “So. Doesn’t mean you can’t like being with a boy, that way, as well. Being
bi-sexual isn’t a bad thing. It just means you open up more options for yourself,” he said, still
grinning.
Harry groaned miserably. He’d never be able to sleep with Draco again. He’d been able to
avoid any wayward thoughts before, but now . . .
“You do realize who we’re bloody talking about, don’t you?” he asked crossly.
Fred smiled that grim smile again, losing much of his humour. “Just watch yourself,” he said
quietly. “I don’t know what the bloody hell you’re doing with him in the first place and I
know you don’t intend to tell anyone else about him. However, I’m not one to tell you how to
run your life and you know that George and I are going to support you in whatever you
decide.”
“You sound like you’re actually trying to encourage me to . . .,” Harry trailed off, trying to
decide what exactly Fred was trying to encourage.
Fred grimaced. “Not encourage, really. Just make you aware of what I’m seeing,” he said. “I
think things are happening between you two, and I want to make sure you know that you’ve
at least got my support.”
“Thanks, I think,” Harry said.
Fred gave him a lopsided grin. “Gotta admit, he keeps you on your toes more than anyone
I’ve ever seen around you,” he said.
“Too true,” Harry muttered as he started walking again.
*****
“What the bloody hell took you so long?” Draco snapped the second Harry walked in the
door.
“Missed you, too,” Harry said sarcastically. He risked a glance, and saw Fred nodding
knowingly at him. Harry scowled and gave Fred a shove.
“Harry seems to be in a mood, Malfoy,” George said regretfully. “I don’t know that he
deserves all the wonderful things we found for him.”
“Harry’s always in a mood,” Draco drawled.
Harry glared at all of them as he flopped onto the couch. Fred and George laughed at him, as
Fred went over to inspect the table where George had gathered a pile of things for Harry.
Harry shot a questioning glance between George and Draco while the twins were occupied.
Draco gave a slight shrug in response. Harry nodded, glad things seemed to have gone well.
In turn, Draco shot a questioning glance between Fred and Harry. He quirked an eyebrow
when Harry flushed in response. Fred turned to call Harry over and grinned widely at seeing
Harry’s red cheeks.
“Oh, Harry,” Fred said sweetly. “Be a good boy and come see what they’ve selected for you.”
Harry scowled at him, but heaved himself off the couch and wandered over to the large table.
Fred and George’s flat was a large open space, for the most part. Kitchen and sitting room all
flowed together. Space in the middle seemed to be reserved for product creation, with shelves
along the wall overflowing with anything and everything.
Draco had followed and leaned against one of the less dangerous looking shelves, watching
with interest as Fred and George animatedly described everything for Harry. A lot of it was
products that Harry had seen before. The Decoy Detonators, the Instant Darkness Powder,
and anything else they thought Harry might find useful at some point.
“But that’s not all,” George said dramatically. Glancing between the twins, Harry realized
they were both practically vibrating with excitement.
“We have something, created especially for you, Harry,” Fred added.
George reached under the table and brought up a box. Harry looked at it warily. It didn’t look
like much and it wasn’t overly large. It looked like any robe box he’d seen in Madam
Malkin’s.
“Do you remember our discussion of the Shield Cloaks?” George asked.
“Yes,” Harry answered, still wary.
“Remember how we said they were only useful against minor to moderate hexes?” Fred
asked.
“Yes,” Harry answered again, flicking his gaze back and forth between the twins.
“You’re sure you trust him?” George asked Harry, glancing at Draco.
Startled by the question, Harry looked to Draco. Draco locked gazes with him, and Harry
could feel the question pounding in his mind. Did he trust Draco? There were so many
reasons not to. But staring into those stormy grey eyes, Harry couldn’t come up with those
reasons. He slowly nodded, seeing the surprise, relief, and gratitude – along with something
he couldn’t define – wash through those stormy eyes.
Harry tore his gaze away. Blinking, he looked at George. “Yes,” he said quietly.
George and Fred exchanged a quick, meaningful glance, which Harry didn’t miss. Harry
swallowed heavily, realizing that Fred had obviously caught a lot that Harry had been missing
before. He didn’t dare look back at Draco again.
“Well, then,” George exclaimed, sounding especially loud after the rather intense moments.
“We have something here for you, Harry. This is a one of a kind.”
“Quite difficult,” Fred added. “Took us almost a year to create.”
“Then you shouldn’t be giving whatever it is to me,” Harry protested.
“We know who we owe for our success,” George said firmly.
“Show him, George,” Fred urged, his excitement palpable in the air.
George whipped off the lid of the box with a dramatic flourish.
“Wow,” Harry breathed. “What is it?”
George lifted the beautiful, ice blue cloak out of the box and moved to wrap it around Harry’s
shoulders. Harry’s body instantly disappeared.
“It’s another Invisibility Cloak?” Harry whispered.
“It is an Invisibility Cloak, but not exactly,” George said, his tone full of respect.
Harry looked at him curiously.
Fred took up the explanation. “It took us a right while to find another Invisibility Cloak, as
they’re quite rare. We couldn’t just nick yours from you, as it’s often in use,” he said, with a
pointed nod to Harry’s other cloak, currently lying across the back of one of the couches.
“Let’s just say that knowing people like Moody and Mundungus can come in handy. Anyway,
while we were searching, we experimented on plain cloaks. Went through a fair amount of
them, too, trying to get them to shield higher level curses,” he said.
“Right painful process,” George interjected
“Yes,” Fred grimaced in agreement. “But we can say that we’ve been able to successfully
create this cloak so that it will shield high level hexes now.”
“We can’t guarantee you that it will deflect the Unforgivables,” George said. “But we think it
will.”
“That’s encouraging,” Harry said sarcastically.
“You don’t know because you can’t test them,” Draco spoke up quietly.
Three heads turned to look at him, and two nodded.
Draco gazed steadily at Harry. “You know I can test two of them,” he said calmly.
Harry’s eyes closed. “I can’t, Draco,” he said quietly.
“I’m not asking you to,” Draco said.
“But it would be useful to know,” Harry said bitterly, rubbing at his scar.
“Wrap the portrait up in it,” Draco said.
Harry’s eyes snapped open and focused on Draco. “Think that would work?”
Draco shrugged. “It worked well enough as a focus before,” he said.
Harry fingered the cloak thoughtfully.
Fred cleared his throat. “Well, in addition to comprehensive Shield Charms, the cloak will
also render you silent. Cloak yourself fully and no one will be able to hear any sounds you
make, even masking the sound of your footsteps.”
“We’ve also made a few adjustments that will help keep you undetectable, even to people
like Moody,” George said. “There’s also tons of pockets, and they’re lined with charms so
that the cloak won’t weigh you down, no matter how much you put into them.”
“Wow,” Harry breathed, thinking about how handy that would have been over the years.
“It’s not going to be overly useful in battle,” Fred admitted. “But in sneak mode, it’ll keep
you protected as much as we possibly could.”
“I can’t –” Harry cut himself off and attempted to swallow down his emotions. He couldn’t
believe that Fred and George had done this for him. It was too much. “This should be yours.
It’s your creation. You’ve spent all the time on it. You spent the money on the cloak itself.”
“No,” George said wryly. “You just made an early investment on it.”
“It’s yours, Harry,” Fred insisted. “There’s absolutely no one else who needs it more, or who
could find more uses for it.” He cast a glance at Draco. “Although, I admit, all the months
spent working on it, and all the imagined uses, I never once imagined you using it to hide
Death Eaters.”
“Ah, but we were confident that our Harry here would find some rather creative uses for it.
We had no doubt that it would be put to good use,” George declared happily.
Draco snorted in amusement. Harry started laughing. “Well, I should certainly do something
to pay you back for this, at least,” he said, his eyes sliding to his other cloak.
Fred followed his gaze. “No,” he said sternly. “That was your dad’s. We wouldn’t dream of it,
and I’m not going to listen to you insult us by even suggesting it.”
“Your money is no good with us, either,” George said firmly.
“But I can’t just accept something like this,” Harry protested.
“Sure you can,” George said easily. “We wanted to do it, and we actually learned a lot of
useful things in the process. We’ve got loads of other products coming out of this project.”
“It’s too much,” Harry insisted.
Fred shrugged. “It’s what we could do. We’d do it for any family member that found trouble
as much as you,” he said with a wide grin.
Harry wasn’t feeling extra pressure from them to defeat Voldemort. He knew that wasn’t their
intention. They knew what he had to do, and they were just trying to support and protect him
in their own extravagant way because they considered him family. He couldn’t feel more
grateful. He was struggling hard to control his emotions.
“You lot have anything he could put all this junk in?” Draco sneered, turning the others’
attention away from Harry.
Fred and George immediately jumped into action, seemingly grateful themselves for the
distraction.
Harry pulled the hood up on the cloak, in the pretence of testing it out. Even knowing he was
invisible to the others, he still stepped away and turned his back before quickly wiping his
eyes.
Feeling a little more in control, he took notice of the cloak again. Aside from the ice blue
colour, at first it seemed very similar to his other cloak. Looking at it from the inside, though,
he could see the many pockets, some larger and some smaller.
Moving around, he also quickly realized that he didn’t have to hold it in place like his other
cloak. It wasn’t stiff, but rather, followed his movements. In fact, he realized that it stayed an
inch or so away from his body at all times. It appeared to be roomier than his other cloak, but
he wasn’t sure if he was just imagining that because of the distance it kept from his body.
“Potter! Where are you bloody at?” Draco asked irritably.
Harry stepped up right behind Draco and pulled the hood back. “Right here,” he said calmly,
and grinned brightly as Draco yelped and jumped away from him.
Fred and George broke out into hysterical laughter. “This is brilliant!” Harry exclaimed
enthusiastically.
“I hate you, Potter,” Draco said sullenly.
“Awww, I hate you, too, Malfoy,” Harry said cheerfully.
“Harry,” Fred gasped, trying to catch his breath after laughing so hard. “That was worth it
all.”
“Shall we get the potions ingredients finally?” Draco sneered.
“Yeah, I reckon we should get moving,” Harry said. He slipped the cloak off and tried
passing it to Draco.
Draco took a step back. “I’m not wearing that,” he said.
“Why not?” Harry asked, frowning.
“They made that for you, not me,” Draco said.
“But it’s brilliant and it’ll keep you protected better than my other cloak,” Harry said.
Draco shook his head. “No, Potter,” he said, moving to pick up the other cloak.
George got to it first. “Wear the new one, Malfoy,” he said quietly.
“You don’t want me wearing that,” Draco said angrily. “You made that special for him. You
fucking well didn’t intend for a Death Eater to be wearing it.”
“No, we didn’t,” George said with a shrug. “But we made it for Harry. He gets to use it
however he wants and right now he wants you to wear it.”
“And does Potter get whatever he wants?” Draco sneered.
George grinned. “Not always, but often enough to irritate you,” he said pleasantly.
“I’m not wearing it,” Draco said forcefully, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Come on, Draco,” Harry begged. “Just wear it and let’s go.”
“No,” Draco said stubbornly.
Harry flicked his gaze to the twins briefly. “Remember what I told you earlier about risking
your safety?” he asked Draco warningly.
“Potter, you wouldn’t,” Draco said, glaring at Harry.
Harry shrugged. “You know I would,” he said.
“I try to be bloody nice by not using your new cloak and you threaten me,” Draco grumbled.
“I don’t particularly want to be punished,” Harry pointed out. “Especially since I don’t even
know how I’d be punished.”
“It wouldn’t be as bad for you,” Draco muttered.
“So, wear the cloak,” Harry said, holding it out again, “and save us both from being
punished.”
“Do you realize how kinky you sound?” Fred asked.
“All this talk of punishment sounds quite fascinating,” George agreed.
Draco smirked in amusement, finally giving in and accepting the cloak from Harry.
“Yes, I’m looking forward to getting him home so I can get the kinky prat into bed,” Harry
said sarcastically. “So, if we could hurry this up?”
The sound of Draco’s laughter was cut off as he put the hood on.
“Brilliant,” Harry breathed, looking at the spot Draco had just disappeared. He looked at the
twins. “I’ve always had to be so careful to be quiet.”
Fred and George beamed. “We thought you’d appreciate the improvements,” George said.
Draco’s head appeared again suddenly. “I didn’t do the Disillusionment Charm,” he said.
Fred nodded his head. “This cloak will make a huge difference, but if you have to take it off
for any reason, the Disillusionment Charm will keep you hidden that little bit longer,” he said
seriously.
“If I have to cast any curses,” Draco said.
“Exactly,” George said. “You can’t cast through the cloak, even if you wanted to, because of
all the magic in it. You’d have to separate the cloak at least a little bit, and someone could
catch a glimpse of you. Or your wand, at least, especially since so many spells require wand
movement.”
“Why does it take four of us to go to the Apothecary and only two of us to go to Gringott’s?”
Harry interjected absently. “I mean, I essentially walked to the shop by myself.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “We Apparated close to the shop, and you didn’t actually go in any
shop by yourself besides theirs. Goblins guard the bank, so it’s not too much of a concern,
and it was close to here. The Apothecary, on the other hand, tends to present more . . .
unsavoury people. Besides, one of the reasons we told these two was so I’d have someone to
tell on your side if something goes wrong. I thought we’d gone over this.”
Harry shrugged. “It just sounded odd when I thought of it that way,” he said.
Draco shook his head in exasperation before casting the Disillusionment Charm on himself,
then disappearing under the cloak.
“That’s a good double-up on protection,” Fred said admirably. “Has he taught you that spell
yet?” he asked Harry as they made for the door.
“Not yet,” Harry said. “I hadn’t really thought much about it before and I’ve been busy
learning other things.”
He felt Draco’s hand on his arm and nodded when Fred looked at him questioningly before
shutting the door. They made their way down the street, Harry and the twins chatting about
anything and everything. He liked the twins. They weren’t about to be brought down by the
gloomy atmosphere that was now Diagon Alley.
The twins pointed out that to be loud and noticed by everyone, meant you’d be noticed
damned quickly if you suddenly disappeared. Harry had trouble arguing with that logic.
*****
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Notes

Chapter Seventeen
Draco slipped into the Apothecary with Harry, in between the twins. Digging the list out of
his pocket, Harry grabbed a basket and started loading it up with ingredients. The
shopkeeper, and any customers, thought twice about coming in Harry’s direction with Fred
and George making a loud commotion. The twins left Harry to do his business, chatting
loudly over whatever struck their fancy.
For his part, Harry could feel Draco sticking close to him. He couldn’t directly see or hear
Draco, but several items from the shelves seemed to float into Harry’s basket. A couple items
floated out of his basket as well, and he took another look at his list, trying to figure out
where he’d messed up.
Eventually, Harry was pretty sure he had everything and muttered that to himself. He felt
Draco tugging on his arm, leading him to a different shelf in the far corner of the room. Harry
stared at it blankly. He had no idea what Draco wanted him to get. Fred and George had
followed and created a human shield between Harry and the shopkeeper, who was far too
close in Harry’s opinion.
Several items were quickly floated from the shelf to Harry’s basket. Too quick for him to get
any idea what they were. He again muttered to himself about having everything and this time
felt his shoulder squeezed. Taking that as a yes, he finally made his way to the front counter
to pay for it all.
“I hate that place,” Harry muttered once they were outside again.
“You volunteered for this job,” Fred said cheerfully.
“Don’t remind me,” Harry grumbled.
As they were walking back down the street, Harry felt a sharp tugging on his arm. “Hey, I
want to go in here,” he said quickly, interrupting Fred mid-sentence and not even knowing
where “in here” was.
Fred and George quickly followed Harry’s lead and they slipped into the closest shop.
Stepping inside, Harry realized they were in the Magical Menagerie.
“So, what are we interested in?” George questioned cheerfully, even as he watched Harry
being carefully turned to face the front window. They watched as two men ambled past.
Harry made a move as if to go out the door again, but was jerked backwards.
Scowling, Harry answered George. “I reckon I’m interested in something in here,” he said.
“Sounds like a safe bet,” Fred agreed, grinning.
Fred and George fed some inane story to the lady at the counter, and Harry idly looked
around. He would’ve rather have followed whoever it was that Draco had hidden them from,
even though he knew it wasn’t the smartest idea.
He thought about asking about treats for Fawkes, but decided against it. He didn’t think it
was a good idea to announce that he had Dumbledore’s phoenix. Instead, he checked out all
the strange creatures.
He felt a sharp tugging on his arm again, and was seriously starting to get annoyed about it.
He allowed himself to be led anyways, and ended up halting in front of a tank with snakes.
He rolled his eyes. Of course Draco would be interested in the bloody snakes.
He felt a pinch on his arm. “Bloody hell,” Harry muttered.
“Problem, Harry?” Fred asked innocently.
“Yes,” Harry said irritably. “It seems I’m interested in the snakes.”
Fred started sniggering and Harry glared at him.
“What’s so interesting about these snakes?” George asked curiously, coming up behind him.
Harry finally took a real look at them, and suddenly understood why he’d been dragged over.
He took a step closer.
“Blimey, Harry! Those are some colourful snakes,” George exclaimed, staring at the snakes
in amazement.
“They’re the house colours of Hogwarts,” Harry observed curiously. He glanced warily
around the room. They were the only customers, the lady behind the counter was preoccupied
with something or other, and the room was noisy with all the animals. He glanced at Fred and
George.
They both shrugged. “Go for it,” George said.
Harry took another step closer to the tank.
“Hello,” he hissed in Parseltongue, feeling a bit ridiculous.
The four snakes in the tank lifted their heads and turned in Harry’s direction.
“You speak?” one of them hissed.
“Yes,” Harry said, shrugging. Then felt stupid again, because he wasn’t sure a snake was
going to understand the body language of a human. “I am curious about your pretty colours,”
he hissed.
“We believe we are the only ones like this,” Harry was informed. “The woman raised us in the
back room,” the snake hissed and lifted its head in the direction of the lady behind the
counter.
Harry glanced over at her. She had her nose buried in a book and seemed oblivious to her
surroundings.
“Why?” Harry asked, turning back to the snakes.
“We do not know. You would have to ask her,” hissed the red snake. “We know that she is not
happy with us.”
Harry glanced at the woman again, frowning. “Are you dangerous or something?” he asked
the snakes.
“We have deadly venom,” the snake admitted.
“Is that all?” Harry questioned. “Lots of snakes have deadly venom.”
“We can affect things,” one of the snakes hissed after several moments of quiet.
“Affect things, how?” Harry asked, not understanding.
Harry suddenly felt unbearably cold and shivered. Fred and George were looking at him
oddly. Harry looked back at the snake. “Did you do that?” he asked.
“I did,” the blue snake hissed. “I can affect the temperature in an area.”
“What can the others do?” Harry asked quickly.
“Hold up your hand,” the red snake hissed. Harry did and felt a sudden, sharp pain in the
palm of his hand. Flinching, he jerked his hand back to his chest. “I can make it feel like a
snake bite.”
Harry rubbed the thumb of his left hand across the palm of his right. He couldn’t see
anything, but he could still feel a slight tingling pain, even though it was quickly fading away.
“Thanks for the warning,” Harry hissed sarcastically.
“The feeling of the bite is the warning,” the scarlet snake hissed. “It is brief and contains no
venom.”
Harry slowly nodded, realizing that made sense. He looked to the bright green snake.
“I can change location,” it said.
“What do you mean?” Harry asked, brow furrowed.
“Hold out your arm and I will move to your wrist,” hissed the snake.
Harry held his arm out again curiously. Fred and George both yelped in astonishment when
the snake suddenly appeared, wrapped around his wrist and forearm, but Harry simply stared.
Unfortunately, the twins had caught the shopkeeper’s attention. “What are you boys doing?”
she demanded.
The green snake quickly disappeared from Harry’s arm and appeared in the tank again.
“I’m interested in buying your snakes,” Harry said calmly.
“You can’t buy those,” she snapped. “They’re dangerous.”
“How?” Harry questioned.
“I believe they are possessed,” she said, glancing at the snakes fearfully.
Harry snorted in amusement. Fred and George stared at Harry incredulously, but kept their
mouths shut.
The woman shot a glare at Harry, but her eyes were swiftly trained on the snakes again. He
saw her shiver violently and quickly repressed his grin.
“Where did they come from?” Harry demanded.
“They were an experiment,” she admitted, surprising Harry. He had been pretty sure they
were an experiment, from what the snakes had said, but he was surprised that she would
actually admit it. “Spells were performed on the eggs before they hatched. They were meant
to simply have the beautiful colouring of Hogwarts, as it would make an attractive selling
point. Yet, strange things happen around them.”
The woman shrieked unexpectedly, and clutched one hand protectively to her chest.
“Watch this.” Harry heard the hissing, and glanced briefly at the tank, assuming it was the
little yellow snake. The woman’s pale lilac robes were suddenly a shockingly bright yellow.
Harry couldn’t keep himself from laughing. He quickly stopped, though, when he realized the
woman was close to tears. “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “If you tell me how much you want
for them, I’ll take them off your hands so you won’t have to deal with them anymore.”
“I can not, in good conscience, sell them to a boy,” she said stiffly.
Harry rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, trying to figure out how to convince
this woman to sell the snakes to him. He saw her tear-filled eyes widen. “You’re Harry
Potter,” she said.
Well, that might do it, Harry thought sarcastically. “Yeah, I am,” he said out loud. “Now will
you sell them to me?”
She slowly nodded, still staring at him.
“Could you gather up whatever supplies and such that he’ll need?” Fred asked politely,
dragging her attention to him.
“Certainly, certainly,” she said, sounding flustered.
Harry shot Fred and George a grateful smile as they herded the woman away to gather
whatever he’d need to take care of four snakes. He turned to look at the snakes again. “If I
take you home with me, can you promise never to bite anyone—unless I tell you to?” he asked
them.
“You will take good care of us?”
“Of course,” Harry said.
“Then, as speaker of the snake language, you are our new master and we will obey your
word.”
Harry was startled at that proclamation. “I do not wish to control you, only protect those
around me.”
“We do not belong here with this woman. We like you and are content with you as our master,
rather than her.”
“I think anyone’s going to be better than her,” Harry said, glancing over his shoulder at the
woman in question.
“No one else has spoken the snake language with us.”
“There’s only one other who can,” Harry admitted. “But he is evil.”
“May we travel on your body?”
“What?” Harry hissed, eyebrows raised incredulously.
“We can wrap ourselves around your arms or your neck and travel comfortably that way.”
Harry looked down at himself. Wearing jeans and a t-shirt wasn’t going to cut it. He looked
over to the twins who were wearing violent magenta robes. He looked back to the little
yellow snake. “If I can borrow one of my friends’ robes to wear, can you change the colour of
them for me?” he asked.
“I’d be honoured.”
Harry grinned. “Be right back.” He quickly talked Fred into giving up his robes. Grateful the
twins were shorter than Ron, at least, Harry tugged the robes over his head. He beamed
brightly as they changed from the violent magenta colour to a beautiful emerald green.
“Exact same as your eyes.”
“Thank you,” Harry hissed happily. He dipped his hands down into the tank and watched as
the snakes slithered under the sleeves of the robe. It felt downright strange as they wrapped
themselves around each of his forearms.
“Comfortable?” he asked.
Receiving an affirmative answer, Harry walked over to the counter. The woman was
obviously happy to be getting rid of the snakes, because Harry was pretty sure she only
charged him for the tank and supplies for them.
Feeling strangely happy, considering he was wearing four snakes and robes that were trailing
the ground because they were too long for him, Harry made for the door to leave the shop
finally.
He paused, though, remembering why they’d gone into the shop in the first place. Hissing
quietly to the two snakes on his right arm, he waited until they had moved. One around his
neck and one on his upper left arm. It felt a little creepy to feel them slithering under the
robes he was wearing. Making sure he had his wand accessible, he finally stepped outside.
“Blimey, Harry! What was that all about?” Fred exclaimed.
Harry beamed happily, but didn’t answer at first, looking around the area warily. “Look good
to you?” he asked. Fred and George nodded, but looked at Harry expectantly. Harry felt the
reassuring squeeze of his shoulder and nodded to the twins.
They started walking and Harry began explaining about what seemed to be the snakes’
defence mechanisms. “Only you could end up with magical snakes, Harry,” George said,
shaking his head.
Harry frowned. He hadn’t really thought of it that way. He’d just liked them and hadn’t
wanted to leave them there with that lady when they’d so obviously been unhappy about it.
“Well, they needed a home,” he said defensively.
“And who better than our Harry to give them one,” Fred said cheerfully. He looked down at
the bottom of his robes that Harry was currently wearing. “Although, I seem to have
sacrificed my robes for them.”
“I’ll buy you new ones,” Harry said apologetically.
Fred grinned. “Ah, it’s worth it. Besides, you look so cute with your pretty robes trailing the
ground like that,” he said cheekily.
Harry scowled and tried to smack him, but Fred dodged ahead. Both he and George were
laughing and, unable to resist, Harry started laughing with them. They were still laughing as
they trooped back into Fred and George’s flat.
“Your boy in here?” Fred asked before shutting the door.
“He’s not my boy,” Harry protested.
First the cloak, and then Draco, appeared with a muttered charm.
“I’m not his boy,” Draco scowled.
Fred simply rolled his eyes. “Well, you’re not mine, and you’re not George’s, so you must be
Harry’s,” he said, as if it was completely logical. He didn’t give Draco a chance to respond
before he continued. “So, what’s the list that we still need to get from Knockturn Alley?” he
asked.
Draco opened his mouth to argue with the previous statement, but closed it again in
resignation. Harry dug out the list and handed it to Draco. George set out another piece of
parchment, ink and quill at the table, and Draco began carefully going through the list and
writing anything they still needed on the clean parchment.
“Who were the blokes?” Fred asked.
Draco looked up at him. “A couple of Death Eaters,” he admitted.
“And we didn’t go after them because . . .,” Harry said leadingly.
“Because we had no idea if they were actually alone or not,” Draco said calmly. “We also
didn’t know if they would Apparate out of there immediately if they’d seen you, and arrive
back moments later with a bunch more Death Eaters. I saw no need to take the risk.”
“Oh,” Harry said. “Well, that would explain it.”
Draco rolled his eyes and went back to his lists.

Shrugging off the idea of errant Death Eaters, Harry unbuttoned the robes he was wearing
and slipped them off so he could see what the snakes looked like.
“Blimey!” Fred exclaimed, having been watching Harry.
Draco quickly looked up again, and his eyes widened in amazement at seeing the snakes
wrapped around Harry’s arm and neck.
“You’re quite colourful, mate,” George said, looking at Harry curiously.
Harry beamed and hissed at the snakes for a moment.
The other three watched wide-eyed as the snakes obeyed what Harry told them and started
slithering around Harry’s body and off onto the couch.
“Oh Merlin!” Fred said weakly. “And I thought it was interesting watching you with a
phoenix sitting on your shoulder.”
“You’ve got your own unique Magical Menagerie, Harry,” George agreed.
Grinning at their comments, Harry caught Draco’s wide-eyed gaze. Draco shook his head
slightly and purposefully turned back to the parchments he was working on.
Harry frowned slightly, but was quickly sidetracked by the twins’ request to hold one. With
the snakes’ permission, the twins checked out Harry’s new pets.
Fred, decked out in new robes identical to the ones he’d been wearing earlier, and George left
right after Draco finished with the revised list of potions ingredients.
“What’s the matter?” Harry questioned. “I thought you liked the snakes.”
Draco exhaled heavily. “I do,” he admitted. “You just . . . you sound the same but different.”
Harry started as he realized what Draco was talking about. Harry talking to the snakes
reminded Draco of Voldemort.
“In the shop it was noisy,” Draco said. “I heard you, but it wasn’t quite the same. In here, it’s
quiet and it surprised me a little.”
“Are you going to be okay with it?” Harry asked in concern. He didn’t particularly want
Draco getting upset every time he talked to the snakes. He really didn’t want Draco
associating him with Voldemort any more than he already did.
“I’m fine,” Draco said, rolling his eyes for emphasis. “Let me see them,” he demanded
eagerly.
Harry rolled his own eyes and introduced the snakes to Draco. He watched in amusement as
Draco became entranced by them. Draco was absolutely fascinated as the green one wrapped
around his upper arm.
Harry decided to try to take advantage of Draco’s distraction. “So, what happened while I
was gone earlier?” he asked.
“Nothing much,” Draco answered absently. “Mostly he just told me to watch out for you and
then he started collecting all that stuff.”
Harry’s eyes widened incredulously. “George told you to watch out for me?” he asked.
Draco looked up and realized what he’d said, but he didn’t seem to mind. He shrugged.
“Yes,” he said, frowning thoughtfully. “You were right and he didn’t really ask me anything.
Didn’t threaten me, either.”
He snorted in amusement. “Actually, he did question me. He wanted to know anything I

could tell him about how the products worked for me and what I had to suggest for any
improvements.”
Harry was startled into laughter. “That sounds like George,” he said fondly.
“Your friends are odd,” Draco said, but he didn’t make it sound like an insult.
“True,” Harry said with a shrug. He saw no point in denying what was the truth.
“What’d you talk about with the other one?” Draco asked.
Harry flushed. “Um, not much,” he said evasively.
Draco lifted one brow, and Harry realized irritably that it was both a question and a statement
of disbelief. “He didn’t question you or tell you to get the hell away from me?” Draco asked.
“Um, no, not really,” Harry said, stumbling over the words. “He, uh, we talked about Ginny.”
“Ah, threatened you for taking advantage of his sister and then breaking her poor little heart,”
Draco sneered.
Harry glared at Draco for his tone. “No, he didn’t,” he snapped. “In fact, he told me it didn’t
surprise him that Ginny and I broke things off and that she wasn’t right for me because I
needed someone stronger.”
Harry’s eyes widened as he realized what he’d blurted out and he saw the satisfied look on
Draco’s face.
“Did he have any suggestions for who would be right for you?” Draco drawled casually.
“Maybe,” Harry said irritably. He cursed himself for not keeping his mouth shut. He could
manage to keep a load of important secrets, but when it came to things that would only hurt
himself, he couldn’t seem to keep quiet.
“So, are you interested in someone?” Draco asked.

“Maybe,” Harry said again. This was actually the truth, he thought, as he turned his head
away and closed his eyes. He hadn’t really thought about Draco that way before, but he’d
thought about him. He’d thought about Draco constantly for the past year. Uncomfortably, he
realized that he’d obsessed over Draco even while he was seeing Ginny.
But although he’d thought about Draco a lot, he hadn’t really thought about him in any
romantic or sexual way. He couldn’t deny to himself, though, that he’d checked Draco out
more than once recently. His cheeks flushed as he remembered stripping Draco down and
washing him when he was injured. He’d been tired and concerned at the time, and it hadn’t
been a time geared towards sexual perusal, but it didn’t stop Harry from picturing Draco’s
body again now.
He remembered holding Draco two nights before. Again, it hadn’t been a sexual moment in
any way, but . . . it had felt good. It had felt comfortable and warm. And seeing Draco
wandering around in just a pair of low-riding pyjama pants?
This was really not a good time to be thinking about these things. And he wasn’t sure if there
was a good time. Draco was not a good choice. He was a Death Eater. They hated each other.
They fought constantly.
But he’s changed, Harry’s thoughts insisted. He could be an obnoxious prat and he still had
low opinions of Weasleys, Muggles and house-elves, but he’d changed. Or maybe, he
realized, he’d just learned that there was far more to Draco than his point of view on those
topics. Draco still knew far more about the Dark Arts than was probably healthy, but he
didn’t want to be a Death Eater anymore. They still fought constantly, but that wasn’t the
same anymore, either. Inexplicably, there was actually trust between them and a fair measure
of respect as well.
He realized his feelings for Draco had been changing and building without him even
recognizing it. He’d been focusing on a lot of things, but romance of any kind had not been
amongst his priorities. He’d slid into these feelings for Draco naturally, and it didn’t seem to
matter that he was a boy. Even with everything in their history, Harry was attracted to Draco.
He was attracted physically, and he had to finally admit, he was attracted to Draco as a
person.
“Harry,” Draco said softly. “Who are you thinking about?”
“You,” Harry answered without thinking, eyes still closed.
“So, that means you’re interested in me?” Draco questioned.
Harry’s eyes flew open and he whipped his head around to stare at Draco. “No,” he denied.
Draco scooted closer to him on the couch, setting snakes aside. “I think you are,” he said.
Harry looked at him, eyes wild. “I’m not,” he protested. “I was just thinking about how
wrong we would be together.”
“But you were thinking about us together,” Draco said.

“Oh, well,” Harry paused, trying to gather some coherent thoughts and not having much luck.
Draco was moving far too close to him and it was making it impossible to think. He bit his lip
nervously and his eyes widened as Draco’s gaze flicked to his mouth.
“I’m interested in you,” Draco admitted.
Harry’s eyes widened even further. “You can’t be,” he protested. Even as he said it, he
realized that there’d actually been quite a few signs of Draco’s interest that he’d not
recognized before.
“Why not?” Draco asked.
“Because . . . because you hate me,” Harry said, trying to latch onto that thought. “It’s a law
of nature or something. Malfoys hate Harry Potter.”
Draco snorted softly in amusement. “And Harry Potter must hate Malfoys?” he asked. “It’s a
rule?”
“I’m sure it must be,” Harry said.
Draco’s sudden smile was smug. “Harry Potter lives to break rules,” he said.
Harry stilled. There was some illogical logic in there somewhere that was appealing. No, it
might not be logical to most other people, but it sounded logical enough to him. Whatever the
reasons, he liked Draco, and Draco said he liked him. Sure, there were some risks if he got
involved with Draco. More risks than with most relationships. But Harry liked taking risks.
He did it all the time. In fact, he was used to jumping into risky situations with both feet.
Having come to a decision, Harry moved suddenly and straddled Draco’s lap. He grinned at
Draco’s startled expression. Harry had no real idea what he was doing, having no experience
with boys, but he was going to take advantage of Draco’s stunned silence. Taking off his
glasses and tossing them aside, he cupped Draco’s face in his hands and leaned in to kiss him.
Draco’s lips were already parted in shock, making it easy for Harry to slip his tongue inside.
Draco was unresponsive at first and Harry took the opportunity to explore, sliding his tongue
experimentally through Draco’s mouth. Harry had known him for six years and never once
had he ever guessed that Draco tasted sweet.
Then, Draco started to respond, and Harry moaned into Draco’s mouth as Draco’s tongue met
his own. Bad time to think of Ginny, but Harry suddenly knew what she meant about that
extra spark. He felt like sparks were travelling down his spine, but he realized vaguely that it
might have something to do with Draco’s hands running up and down his back.
Harry smoothed his own hands along Draco’s jaw, down his neck and back to twine in silky
strands of hair. Draco’s tongue thrust into his mouth and Harry savoured the mutual
exploration.
The pressure of the kiss eased, and with a final brush of lips, Harry backed away slightly.
Breathing heavily, Harry stared into Draco’s eyes which had turned silvery instead of grey,
glazed with desire.
“Wow,” Harry breathed.
Draco blinked, then shook his head slightly as if to clear it. “That was unexpected,” he said
dazedly.
“Is that a problem?” Harry asked.
“Hell no,” Draco said, suddenly smirking even as his arms gripped tighter around Harry’s
waist, holding him in place. “When you decide something, you don’t hesitate, do you?”
“No,” Harry said, chuckling a little. “Quick action is often an advantage.” Deciding action
was a much better idea than talking, Harry leaned back in to kiss him again.
Ten minutes later, they were still snogging heavily when the twins burst back into the room.
Harry and Draco broke the kiss, but Harry didn’t move from Draco’s lap. Draco stiffened and
looked warily at the twins.
Fred and George froze for a moment, but then slammed the door and grinned at Harry.
“You got over that issue fast,” Fred said cheerfully. “Always knew you were a bright boy,
Harry,” he added proudly.
“Here, you might find this useful even sooner than we expected,” George said, tossing one of
the bags he was holding.
Harry caught it easily, and looked inside. He hadn’t been embarrassed to be caught snogging.
Now, his cheeks were flaming. “George!” he exclaimed, quickly closing the bag.
Draco reached for it, but Harry held it up at arm’s length.
“How could you?” Harry asked incredulously.
“Figured it might be useful for you,” George said innocently.
Draco managed to wrestle Harry’s arm down enough to reach the bag. In resignation, Harry
let him take it. Watching Draco peek inside, Harry felt gratified to see Draco’s cheeks flush
pink, and felt a twinge of excitement when Draco looked interested despite his
embarrassment.
Fred grinned happily. “Now you can have an even happier birthday,” he said. “Just be
thankful we’re giving it to you early and that we’re not giving you your present at the
Burrow.”
Harry looked at him in horror. “Oh, that would have been bad,” he said, swallowing heavily.
That was one imagined scenario that certainly helped ease away his erection. He could just
imagine the Weasley’s and Hermione’s reactions upon discovering the book about gay sex
and the various jars included in the bag. Aside from the embarrassment, it would generate a
lot of questions that Harry wasn’t remotely prepared to deal with at the moment. He hadn’t
even answered them for himself, yet.
“We have to agree with you this time,” George said regretfully. “You know we generally
enjoy causing a stir, but this might have been a bit much at the moment.”
“But you’re going to make sure we’re around when you finally tell the others about Malfoy,”
Fred piped up.
“’Course, we’ll need some warning,” George added.
“Yes, have to have time to lay in a fresh supply of popcorn,” Fred agreed.
Harry gave Draco a smug grin, and Draco started laughing. “All right, you win,” Draco said
ruefully.
*****
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Notes

Chapter Eighteen
Harry and Draco arrived back at the Dursleys, loaded down with packages and snakes.
Flushed and happy, they unloaded everything onto Harry’s bed, not knowing where else to set
all of it.
“Hello, Mum,” Draco said, moving to kiss her on the cheek, and Harry did the same.
Narcissa stared at them both in astonishment. “I was worried about you,” she said weakly.
“I know you were,” Draco said apologetically. “The day just got a little out of hand.”
“Sorry, Narcissa,” Harry said, adding his own apology.
She waved a hand dismissively, but was still staring at the two of them bemusedly. “What
happened?” she asked.
Draco’s eyes lit up. “Wait until you see what Harry got today,” he said. Around only Harry
and his mum, he sounded much more excited than he had around the Weasleys.
“What should we show her first?” Harry asked, grinning widely.
“Take off the robes,” Draco said, smirking at Harry.

Harry raised his eyebrows at the extra meaning, but started unbuttoning the robes. Both boys
grinned at the gasp from Narcissa when she saw the snakes Harry was wearing.
Harry started unloading snakes as Draco animatedly told his mother about their impromptu
visit to the Magical Menagerie. She was startled when she heard Harry first speaking
Parseltongue, but she didn’t appear to be disturbed by it.
While Draco had Narcissa distracted with colourful snakes, Harry quickly stuffed the bag
from the twins in his trunk. He really didn’t want Narcissa seeing what was in that bag. He
did have a moment of regret that he didn’t have his room to himself anymore. He’d had far
too much alone time in the past, and wished for a bit of it back so he could explore the
contents of the bag.
Sighing because there wasn’t anything he could do about it at the moment, he looked up in
time to catch Draco watching him. Draco winked before turning toward his mother again.
Grinning, Harry shook his head. He didn’t know what the hell was happening between them,
but it was exciting.
Snatching Victoria up out of her cot, Harry happily sat down on the floor with her to play for
a bit. He’d let Draco try to figure out where to put the snakes and all the potions stuff.
Because, glancing around the already packed room, Harry didn’t have a clue.
“Draco, let me see the yellow snake,” Harry requested.
“No, you’ve got Victoria right now,” Draco said.
“So,” Harry said. “I want to show it to her. She’ll like that one.”
“Potter, you’re not giving my daughter a bloody snake,” Draco said coldly.
Harry hissed in Parseltongue, received an answering hissing back, then glared at Draco.
“There, the snake’s not going to do anything to harm Victoria in any way and the snake’s
been warned that Victoria’s still little and will have to learn how to treat the snake right, but
may grip too tightly at first.”
“The snake will tell me if Victoria is hurting it so I can stop it,” he added.
“The snake has deadly venom,” Draco snapped.
“I know that,” Harry retorted. “Come on, Malfoy, you’re supposed to be the bloody Slytherin
into snakes.”
“But not for my daughter, who’s not even a year old yet,” Draco said angrily.
Harry hissed and Draco yelped, jerking his hand back. Harry sneered in malicious satisfaction
as the yellow snake slipped away from Draco.
“I didn’t think the yellow one did that,” Draco said irritably.
“It doesn’t,” Harry said pleasantly. “The yellow one is the camouflage snake that can change
the colour of things. I think Victoria will get a kick out of it.”
“I hate you, Potter,” Draco grumbled in resignation.
“I hate you, too,” Harry said happily.
The yellow snake slithered onto Harry’s lap, and Victoria was instantly trying to grab for it
when she saw it. Harry carefully held her wrist and hand so that she couldn’t make a fist and
showed Victoria how to pet the snake.
“Gently,” Harry said. “Feel how smooth?”
“Da,” Victoria said.
Harry chuckled. “Snake,” he said.
Victoria tried to grab hold of the colourful snake. “No,” Harry reprimanded quietly. “Gently,”
he repeated. “You don’t want to hurt her, so you have to pet her gently.”
“Da,” Victoria gurgled.
“Snake,” Harry said. “Sssssss.”
“Sssssss,” Victoria repeated the sound, obviously liking it.
Harry laughed at her. “Good,” he said. “And close enough for the moment.”
“You want to see what the snake can do?” he asked.
“Da,” Victoria said.
Harry rolled his eyes, but hissed at the snake. The snake itself changed to a beautiful lilac
colour that matched Victoria’s dress. Victoria giggled in delight and Harry grinned.
“Purple,” Harry said. He hissed to the snake, which then changed to a blue to match Harry’s
t-shirt.
“Blue,” Harry said.
Victoria giggled again, and Harry continued to cycle through colours with Victoria and the
snake.
Draco and Narcissa had been watching carefully, but when nothing more drastic than a lesson
on colours occurred, Draco set about setting up the tank for the snakes. Narcissa continued to
watch, but she relaxed and smiled warmly when Harry glanced up at her.
Draco moved Harry’s clock from the nightstand to the desk and put the snake tank there. It
was too big, but it’d have to do. Once that was done, he managed to stuff all the potions
supplies on top of the wardrobe.
Harry was impressed. He would never have been able to organize their small living space, but
somehow, two people who were used to the most space imaginable, were managing to keep
things organized and under control.
“So, what should we call your snake?” Harry asked Victoria.
“It’s not hers,” Draco said firmly.
“Why not?” Harry asked. “She likes it.”
“You can’t give a deadly snake to a baby,” Draco explained slowly.
“The snake will still be with the others,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. He turned his back on
Draco and looked to Victoria. “So, what do you think?” he asked her.
Victoria giggled happily. “Sssssss.”
“Yes, snake,” Harry said with a grin. “So, we’ve got ‘ssssss’ and ‘da’,” he said thoughtfully.
“Not sure I can do much with that.”
Harry turned to Draco suddenly. “Can I call her snake ‘Lissa’?” he asked hopefully. “Since
you won’t let me call her ‘Lissa’.”
“Harry, their colours match the Hogwarts houses,” Draco pointed out in a reasonable tone.
“Don’t you think you should at least name them accordingly?”
“What would you name them?” Harry asked.
Draco frowned thoughtfully at the other three snakes in the tank for a minute. “Salz, Gryff,
and Rave,” he said decisively. He sneered as he looked at the snake Harry was holding. “And
that’s a bloody Hufflepuff snake you’re wanting to give to a Malfoy,” he said in realization,
despite the snake being a baby blue colour for the moment.
Harry grinned. “But it is still a snake, and Hufflepuff seems appropriate for such a little girl,”
he said. “I don’t really want to name it Huff, though. And not Puff, either. I still like Lissa.
It’s got those nice ‘s’ sounds for Victoria.”
Draco closed his eyes and grimaced as if he was in pain. “Will you do it even if I say no?” he
asked.
“Probably,” Harry admitted. “Unless you go completely mental about it.”
Draco sighed in resignation. “Whatever you want,” he said. He perked up. “Can I show Mum
your cloak?” he asked.
“Sure,” Harry said easily. He was willing to make the deal, especially since he knew Narcissa
would be seeing the cloak sooner or later anyway. But now, Draco would be stuck hearing the
snake called Lissa all the time.
Harry listened half-heartedly to Draco’s and Narcissa’s conversation as he continued to play
with Victoria. He called Winky and asked her to bring them a late dinner. Harry didn’t know
about everyone else, but he was hungry and tired.
By the time they’d finished eating, Harry was just sitting on the floor, lethargically leaning up
against the bed.
“Harry?”
Harry looked up to Narcissa. “What? Sorry, I wasn’t listening,” he admitted.
“You look tired,” she said in concern.
Harry shrugged carelessly. “Yeah, it’s been a long day,” he said.
Draco tossed Harry some pyjama bottoms.
“Go. Get ready for bed,” Narcissa insisted.
Shrugging, Harry was happy enough to do as he was told without question for once. He
finished quickly in the bathroom and came back to drop down on his bed. He was thinking he
should wait for Draco, but fell asleep almost immediately.
*****
Harry woke slowly, feeling warm and relaxed. Somehow, he’d ended up half sprawled over
the top of Draco, with one leg between Draco’s. His eyes opened wide as he felt the hardness
pressing into his hip.
“You’re awake finally,” Draco said softly.
Harry slowly lifted his head to look at Draco. “You’re definitely awake,” Harry whispered.
“You feel good,” Draco said, unapologetic. “And we’ve actually got the room to ourselves.”
Sidetracked temporarily by that information, Harry turned his head to glance quickly around
the room.
“Where is everyone?” he asked in astonishment.
“Your relatives aren’t here, remember?” Draco said. “Everyone is downstairs to get out of
this room for once.”
Harry grinned. “And they won’t be back anytime soon?” he asked.
“No,” Draco said smugly.
Harry dipped his head again and began licking a trail up Draco’s neck. He delighted in the
low moan slipping past Draco’s lips. He kissed and sucked, loving the feel and taste of the
smooth, warm skin beneath his lips. He didn’t know much about boy sex, but this part was
still the same.
Draco shifted to lie completely on his back, dragging Harry to lie fully on top of him. Harry
quickly rediscovered the difference between boys and girls as their hard lengths touched,
only two layers of silk separating them.
“Oh gods,” Harry groaned. “This feels good.” He’d never truly imagined how different and
amazing it would feel to have another cock pulsing next to his own. The silk was no barrier
to the heat or the fabulous hardness.
“It’ll get even better,” Draco promised, dragging Harry’s head down for a kiss.
Knowing what he was doing in the kissing department, at least, Harry dove into the activity
with enthusiasm. He plunged his tongue into Draco’s mouth almost the second their lips
touched, taking pleasure in that moist heat.
Draco’s hands felt hot, too, trailing a path down Harry’s sides and settling into a firm grip on
his hips. Harry couldn’t decide where to focus his attention. It all felt so new and wonderful
and Draco’s skin was so incredibly warm.
Then Draco parted his thighs, settling Harry more firmly between them. Harry groaned, not
needing the extra encouragement from Draco’s hands to grind down against him. He pulled
back from the kiss, eyes wide as he stared at Draco. He felt distant relief that Draco looked as
lost to the sensations as he felt.
“Draco, I –” Harry panted, his words cut off as Draco thrust up against him.
“Harry,” Draco moaned. “Just don’t stop.”
Harry was sure they should be doing something different, considering they were still half
dressed, but it felt too damned good to argue with Draco. This worked for now. It was
working so well that it wasn’t going to take much more of that incredible heat and friction.
He pressed open-mouthed kisses along Draco’s throat.
“Yes,” Draco hissed encouragingly.
Harry whimpered, grinding his hips down into Draco’s. Draco slid his hands to grip Harry’s
arse and he couldn’t believe how incredible it felt. He knew he was going to come and
ground down harder. Seconds later, pulses of liquid heat were jetting from his cock.
With a loud groan issuing from Draco’s mouth, Harry felt Draco’s cock pulsing more hot
wetness between them. Harry had never felt so comfortably sticky in his life, as he lay atop
Draco, attempting to catch his breath.
Feeling Draco moving, Harry shifted to his side and watched as Draco pulled his wand from
under the pillows and muttered a couple of quick charms to clean them up. Harry was
grateful to have the cooling wetness disappear.
He wasn’t quite sure what to say now. It was interesting enough trying to figure out what to
say to a girl. He and Draco hadn’t even had a chance to talk about the change in their
relationship, and all this boy sex was completely new.
“All right?” Draco asked, looking at Harry closely and making Harry wonder what he looked
like.
“Yeah,” Harry said. “I feel incredible, actually.” Physically, he did feel wonderful. “I just, uh,
don’t know much about sex with boys,” he admitted.
Draco chuckled. “If it feels this good with you now, and you claim to not know what you’re
doing, I’m really looking forward to later on when you do know,” he drawled, sounding
incredibly satisfied.
“Don’t you know what you’re doing?” Harry asked curiously.
Draco was quiet for a moment before answering. “I’ve got Victoria because I wasn’t willing
to tell my father my preferences,” he said.
“But why would your father care?” Harry asked. “I thought, well, I thought he’d let you do
almost anything.”
“I needed an heir,” Draco said shortly. “You don’t have an heir by having sex with boys.”
Harry mulled that over. “But it’s okay to have sex with me now because you have Victoria?”
Draco appeared reluctant to answer.
“You still shouldn’t be with me at all,” Harry said flatly in understanding. “I’m not a proper
pureblood girl for you to marry.”
“That’s not it,” Draco said quickly.
“Then, what is it?” Harry asked.
Draco exhaled heavily. “Well, it’s not completely it,” he clarified. “It wouldn’t matter so
much if I married or not, as long as I had an heir, but Victoria’s a girl,” he said.
Harry blinked, trying to figure out what that obvious fact had to do with anything.
“She’s not a boy, Potter,” Draco snapped.
“So?” Harry said blankly.
“Which means she’s not a proper heir. She can’t carry on the Malfoy name,” he said, spelling
it out for Harry.
“So, what, she’s just worthless?” Harry asked incredulously.

“No!” Draco said. “A pureblood girl has a very high ranking. She just can’t carry on the
family name. She’ll marry into another family.”
Harry stared at him and wondered how Draco could talk that way so calmly. As if Victoria
was just a piece of property to manipulate. Draco seemed to simply accept it as normal, and
Harry realized with a sickening feeling, that Draco probably did think it was normal. Draco
was talking as if Harry was the stupid one in this conversation for not understanding what he
was talking about.
“You’re fucked up, Malfoy,” Harry said slowly.
Draco’s expression darkened. “I shouldn’t expect you to understand,” he snapped.
“I understand that you think Victoria has no rights,” Harry said heatedly. “I understand that
you think you haven’t had the right to be who you want to be. I understand you’re placing
more importance on this stupid heir shite than you are on your own feelings.”
“I’m here with you, aren’t I?” Draco shot back angrily.
“Have you been with any other boys?” Harry demanded.
“No,” Draco ground out.
“Surely if you’ve known all this time that you preferred boys, you snuck around at Hogwarts
or something,” Harry said.
“With who, Potter?” Draco said snidely. “Anyone who associated with me would have
immediately passed on the information if they’d found out. And no one I associated with had
the same preferences, anyway.”
“How would you know, if you were all going about being proper little purebloods?” Harry
asked sarcastically. “I feel fabulous, knowing you’ve chosen to go slumming with me.”
With one corner of his mind, Harry noticed how Draco’s eyes had changed from the beautiful
silvery colour from earlier into a wild, stormy dark grey. Draco did not look the slightest bit
happy with Harry’s comments.
“Malfoys do not go slumming,” Draco said furiously.
Harry snorted derisively. “No? Then you tell me what this is all about,” he snapped, waving a
hand between the two of them. “I happen to like my bits, and I’m not going to exchange them
for something more suitable to provide you with a male heir.”
Draco stared at him. “Gods, Potter, where do you come up with such stupid ideas?” he asked
incredulously.
“Me?” Harry exclaimed. “You’re the one –” he cut himself off. He didn’t really want to fight
with Draco. He wasn’t even sure how they’d started arguing again. Surely they were
supposed to be lying in bed in post-orgasmic bliss at the moment – weren’t they?
He’d learned a few things from this argument, though. Amongst all the pureblood crap, he’d
learned that Draco was no more experienced with boys than he was. “So, Mr. Know-it-All
Wanker, you don’t know any more than I do about boys,” he said smugly.
“Well, what do you expect?” Draco said defensively. “I’ve been stuck with Pansy for ages.”
Harry started laughing. He couldn’t help it. “You’ve never really wanted to be with her?” he
asked.
Draco glared at him. “Would you want to be with her?” he snapped.
That just made Harry laugh even harder, remembering all the times he’d seen Pansy hanging
off of Draco.
“Quit laughing, you prat,” Draco grumbled.
Harry tried, he really did, but he was still sniggering at the disgruntled expression on Draco’s
face.
“You’re something else, Draco,” Harry said, even to himself he could hear the fond
amusement in his voice.
Draco sneered at him, but Harry could tell he was pleased with that. Harry smiled. He still
didn’t have the foggiest clue as to what the two of them were doing – with each other – but
he was going to enjoy it while it lasted.
He settled back down on the bed, with Draco next to him.
“I talked to my mother last night,” Draco said abruptly, startling Harry. “After you fell
asleep.”
Harry groaned. “Draco, could you just let me enjoy this moment with you, at least a little?”
he asked.
“I told her about us – whatever this is,” Draco said, ignoring Harry’s comment.
“You told her?” Harry said, feeling the panic rising in his chest. “You just got through telling
me how you need some pureblood witch to give you a proper heir and how you’ve never
been with a boy because that information might get back to your parents. And you told her?!”
Draco rolled to his side, propped himself up on one elbow, and with his other hand began to
trace lazy patterns on Harry’s chest.
Harry was still feeling panicked, but that felt nice. He stared at Draco in confusion.
“I’ll have to remember that this shuts you up,” Draco drawled.
Harry glared at him, but it was weak and they both knew it. “I can still talk,” Harry said
petulantly. “Why’d you tell her, Draco?” he asked, sounding calmer now, but still insistent on
an answer.
“Because I want you,” Draco said calmly.
Harry gaped. He wasn’t sure what kind of answer he’d been expecting, but that wasn’t it.
Draco smirked at Harry’s reaction. “If I’m old enough and capable enough of making a
significant change such as switching sides in the war – which was met with my mother’s
approval – then I should be capable enough of deciding who I want to be with.”
“That makes sense,” Harry said slowly. “So, you thought she’d approve. Did she?” he asked
hopefully.
Draco smiled, and Harry felt the panic recede dramatically. “She said she was proud of me
for standing up for what I wanted. She said maybe it was time for other things to change.”
“What about the heir thing?” Harry asked, hesitantly, as he didn’t want to set Draco off again.
Draco shrugged his free shoulder. “I don’t know,” he admitted honestly.
Harry said nothing. He wasn’t sure what he could say.
“My mother also said she’s not surprised that I want to be with you,” Draco said softly. “That
you’re an amazing person and that you’re –” he paused, and the smirk returned to his
features, “– strong enough to handle me.”
Harry started laughing. “Had you told her what Fred said to me?” he asked.
Draco shook his head. “No, I hadn’t,” he answered, obviously amused.
“I reckon it’s good that we know we’re strong enough for each other,” Harry said dryly. “But
I have to wonder if that simply means we’re more likely to kill each other off.”
Draco chuckled. “We do have a tendency to be at each other’s throats a lot,” he admitted.
Harry gazed at Draco thoughtfully. “We have a lot of history to deal with,” he said slowly.
“We do,” Draco agreed.
“Why are we trying . . . whatever it is we’re trying?” Harry asked. “You’ve always hated
me.”
“I still hate you,” Draco said wryly.
Harry grinned. “But you want me anyway,” he said, sounding very self-satisfied.
Draco splayed his fingers and ran his hand from the base of Harry’s throat to the waistband of
the pyjama pants he was still wearing.
Harry’s breath caught at the sensation as much as the intensity of Draco’s gaze. “Draco?”
“I’ve known you for a long time,” Draco said slowly. “But I’m not sure I ever really saw you
until this last month,” he admitted. “You’re not who I always thought you were.”
He ran his hand back up Harry’s abdomen and rested it on Harry’s chest. Harry swallowed.
“You’ve always fucked with my world,” Draco said ruefully.
Harry was startled into light laughter. “I could say the same,” he said.
Draco acknowledged that with a nod, smiling a little. “I can’t say I was ever attracted to you
before this last month, but it seems I’ve always been drawn to you. Circumstances have
changed, so it’s opened up new possibilities. I’m allowed to see you differently now, and I
happen to like what I see,” he said softly.
Harry’s eyes widened. That made perfect sense to him.
“You feel it, too, don’t you?” Draco said.
“I feel it,” Harry agreed. “I’ve been obsessing over you for the last year. I didn’t consciously
consider this until yesterday, though,” he said ruefully, with a hand waved between them.
Draco chuckled, shaking his head in fond exasperation. “You really do just jump right in,
don’t you?”
“Yes,” Harry said, giving Draco a lopsided smile. “I freely admit I don’t have a bloody clue
as to what I’m doing starting any kind of relationship with you, but my instincts say that it
feels right. So, I’m going with it. I’ll sort out the details as I go.”
“We do have some pretty major details between us,” Draco drawled sarcastically.
“Yeah, and if we wait until we sort out all those details, then we’ll never see any action,”
Harry said reasonably. “It’s not like we’ll ever agree on everything anyway.”
Draco gaped at him for a moment, before he smirked. “Are you just using me for sex,
Harry?” he asked.
Harry smirked back, causing Draco’s eyes to widen slightly. “No, but I’m a sixteen-almost
seventeen-year-old boy and I’ll take whatever sex I can get.”
“I knew there was a reason I liked boys better than girls,” Draco drawled.
Harry raised his brows questioningly.
“A girl would have to have everything bloody perfect before you could get any action,”
Draco said, sounding a little bitter.
“Pansy not quite as affectionate as she’s always led everyone to believe?” Harry deadpanned.
Draco moved suddenly and pinned Harry to the bed. Unable to suppress it any longer, Harry
grinned up at him.
“Are you saying things were better with the little Weasley?” Draco snarled.
“Being with her didn’t feel anything like this,” Harry said, attempting to reassure Draco. “I
don’t have a problem with girls, and I obviously don’t have a problem with boys,” he said,
flashing a smile that swiftly turned sheepish. “It just never occurred to me that boys were an
option before. I don’t think it feels this good because you’re a boy, though.” He reached up
and brushed the back of his fingers across Draco’s cheek. “I think it feels this good simply
because it’s you.” Odd as that felt to say, especially to Draco Malfoy, Harry believed it to be
completely true.
Draco stared at him. “You mean that?” he asked softly, hesitantly.
“Yes,” Harry answered, his voice just as quiet, but filled with conviction. “Everything with
you – between us – seems to be intense,” he said, recognizing the truth of that even as he said
the words.
Draco nodded once in agreement before lowering his head and capturing Harry’s lips,
beginning their earlier activity all over again, but this time with Draco on top.
*****
“Potter, don’t you know anything about potions?” Draco asked snidely.
“Not much,” Harry ground out. “My professors have either hated me or fawned over me. I
haven’t had one who will actually teach me.”
Draco paused for a second, processing that information, but then seemed to disregard it.
“Why the fuck did you volunteer to supply the potions?” he asked.
Harry waved his stack of parchments, which he’d been trying to read, in front of Draco’s
face. “I don’t have to understand potions to fucking follow directions,” he said irritably.
Draco snatched them out of Harry’s hand, flipping through them without actually reading
them. “I don’t even understand these. I know how to brew the burn salve, but these
instructions aren’t even right,” he said, referring to the parchment on top.
“Did you read through them all?” Harry asked curiously, sidetracked by the fact that Draco
had not only read Harry’s parchments, but seemed to actually recognize the differences.
“I needed to know what we’re doing, didn’t I?” Draco said.
“Then, what are we doing?” Harry asked, throwing his hands up in the air and giving up.
“Well, first we’re going to get things set up in this kitchen so we don’t have you blowing us
both up,” Draco said snidely. “Then, you’re going to explain to me why your instructions are
all wrong.”
“They’re not wrong,” Harry said, breathing through his nose and trying to stay calm. It
wouldn’t do to spit out that they were Snape’s instructions. “There’s a reason I did so well in
potions this last year. And it has absolutely nothing to do with Slughorn.”
“Then, what is it?” Draco asked quickly.

“I just accidentally ended up with a book that gave me better instructions,” Harry answered.
“That’s it?” Draco said in disbelief. “I’ve wanted to know the answer to this all year – and
that’s it?”
“Sorry to disappoint,” Harry said petulantly.
Draco waved the parchments haphazardly. “And these are all just copied from some book?”
Harry simply shrugged. He didn’t want to answer that question. Draco didn’t seem to think
anything odd as he went back to flipping through the parchments. “So, how do you know
these will work right?” Draco asked.
Harry shrugged again. “I brewed better potions than you and Hermione most of the time,” he
said.
Draco scowled. “I hated you for that,” he said.
“I know,” Harry said, not taking offence. “So did Hermione. In fact, I’m sure you both still
hate me for it.”
Draco’s eyes narrowed. “Why isn’t Granger helping you with the potions? I would’ve thought
she’d jump at a chance to volunteer for something like this.”
Harry shifted uncomfortably. “I’ve been arguing with Hermione about potions all year,” he
said. “We don’t get along so well when the subject comes up. She would’ve helped me
anyway if I’d asked her, but I haven’t asked.”
“You’re a bastard, Potter,” Draco said, without rancour. “Some of us actually worked hard for
our marks this last year.”
“It’s not like I didn’t actually do the work,” Harry pointed out. “Besides, I doubt my decent
marks in potions this last year made up for the first five years when I got zeros every time I
breathed wrong.” He narrowed his eyes at Draco. “Or every time you decided to ruin my
potion.”
Draco didn’t exactly appear repentant, but he did back off and didn’t say any more about it.
They went back to work, this time with Harry following Draco’s lead as they set about
brewing all the other potions needed for the hospital wing at Hogwarts.
They did follow the instructions on Harry’s parchments, though, and Draco grudgingly
admitted that everything was coming out well. The entire day was spent brewing, with few
breaks. Even Narcissa spent some time helping, when she wasn’t taking care of Victoria.
“Mum, what do you know about potions?” Draco asked when she first offered to help.
Narcissa arched an elegant eyebrow at her son’s attitude. “I may not be as well-versed in
potions as you and your godfather,” she said, her chin held high. “But like Harry, I am quite
capable of following directions.”
Harry grinned as Draco backed off. He was growing quite fond of this woman. She smiled at
Harry as he directed her to one of the cauldrons they’d been working on. Draco scowled at
them both, but handed his mum the appropriate parchment without further comment.
Harry stepped out at one point, and when he came back, he simply stood in the doorway for a
couple of minutes, lost in the surrealness of the situation. Draco and Narcissa were each
working diligently on the potions of the moment. Other cauldrons, with long simmering
times, were bubbling on the other side of the kitchen table. The counters were covered with a
wide variety of ingredients.
Aunt Petunia would surely have heart failure if she were to see her kitchen turned into a
potions lab. The drawn curtains made it even more surreal, as Aunt Petunia always had them
open. They couldn’t allow any Muggles to witness what was going on inside, though, and
they couldn’t allow any possible stray visitors from the Wizarding world to see just who was
there.
Sighing heavily, Harry wandered over to the counter and went back to work chopping and
grinding up ingredients.
*****
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Notes

Chapter Nineteen
The following afternoon, they were again working on potions when Draco and Narcissa
suddenly yelped. Harry looked to them in alarm and they were both clutching at their left
forearms.
“Fuck!” Harry exclaimed, knowing immediately what it meant. Draco was pushing back his
sleeve, and Harry saw the jet black Mark. It had been a dark red before but, at the moment, it
was an almost shiny black. Harry irrelevantly wondered how long it would take to fade back
to red again after summoning.
“He’ll know now,” Draco whimpered.
Narcissa looked no better than Draco, but she swiftly moved to wrap her son in a tight hug.
“Can he reach you through the Marks?” Harry asked sharply, realizing it was something he
should’ve asked long before now.
Draco pushed at his mother for some breathing room and scowled at Harry. “Of course he can
reach us. He uses the Mark to summon his followers,” he spat. “I thought you knew this,
Potter.”
“I do know that,” Harry said impatiently. “I’ve watched him do it before. What I don’t know
is if he can do anything else through the Mark.”
He didn’t really think so. If Voldemort could reach his followers through the Mark, ones like
Karkaroff would never have lasted as long as he had. He didn’t really think the Mark
connected Voldemort to his followers, like his scar connected him to Voldemort.
Draco frowned deeply and Narcissa was the one who answered. “No,” she said quietly. “It
only distinguishes his followers from others and it allows him to summon them.”
“Does he have some way of summoning just one of you?” Harry asked. He knew that when
Voldemort touched the Mark that it called all of the Death Eaters. But could Voldemort call
just one follower – or two – repeatedly until they arrived at his side?
Narcissa shook her head and Harry was deeply relieved. “If he summons one, he summons
all through the Mark. It simply allows us to Apparate directly to his current location. He
cannot reach us the same way that he’s been able to reach you in the past,” she said.
“So, Voldemort can’t torture you through the bloody thing?” Harry asked, needing that
clarified.
“No,” Narcissa said simply. “We will only feel the burn each time he summons the Death
Eaters.”
Harry exhaled heavily. “Well, that isn’t so bad, then,” he said.
“Not so bad?” Draco ground out. “This fucking hurts, Potter.”
Harry unconsciously rubbed his scar. “I’m sure it does,” he said.
Draco’s eyes widened and Harry realized what he was doing. “Yes, I’ve got my own bloody
Mark,” Harry said sharply. “Be fucking thankful he can’t reach you through the one on your
arm.”
As if talking about his scar triggered a reaction, Harry could feel it start to burn and prickle
painfully. He winced, concentrating on his Occlumency shields for a moment, making sure
that he was blocking his mind from Voldemort.
Unfortunately, Voldemort didn’t seem to be blocking his own mind. He was furious enough
that the emotion was coming clearly across the link to Harry.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut tightly for a few moments, pressing on his scar in an attempt to
relieve the pressure.
“Harry? Harry!”
Draco and Narcissa each had a hand on one of his shoulders, staring at him anxiously.
“He knows,” Harry said simply.

“Already?” Narcissa asked, her face pinched and white.
Harry shrugged. “He’s furious,” he said, realizing his face probably looked just as pale as the
other two. “I can’t see him being that angry about anything else at the moment. This is the
first time he’s summoned the Death Eaters since you’ve disappeared and, considering how
furious he is, I reckon he hasn’t been at your house since you left to find out before now.”
Draco swallowed audibly and his palpable fear registered with Harry.
“It’ll be okay,” Harry told them both firmly. “You knew he would find out.”
“But this is real,” Draco said shakily, lifting his arm to stare at it.
Trying not to think about Narcissa still standing there, Harry leaned forward to kiss Draco.
Draco didn’t seem to mind that his mother was watching and latched onto Harry almost
desperately, plunging his tongue into Harry’s mouth. He seemed to be trying to erase any pain
and replace it with pleasure. The assault on the senses was actually quite effective, Harry
dazedly realized.
Draco broke the kiss and dropped his forehead to Harry’s.
“Better?” Harry asked softly.
Draco laughed harshly. “Yes, but don’t you dare kiss my mother like that to make her feel
better,” he said.
Harry jerked back, horrified at that thought. He darted a glance at Narcissa and she still
looked dreadfully stressed, but she was smiling slightly.
“Draco,” Harry hissed. “I can’t believe you said that.”
“Me neither,” Draco admitted, glancing at his mother. “I apologize.”
Narcissa smiled sadly. “It is all right,” she said mildly. “I understand the feeling. It is
suddenly more real, and there is no turning back now.”
Draco straightened and his expression hardened. “I don’t want to turn back,” he said, voice
full of conviction.
“I know,” Narcissa said in understanding.
Harry felt his scar burn again painfully and suddenly understood that while these two were
here safe, Voldemort was sure to make someone pay. Since Snape was clearly close to the
Malfoys, and Harry was fairly certain he hadn’t said anything to Voldemort about their
disappearance, would Snape be the likely target of Voldemort’s wrath?
“I’ve got to go,” Harry said abruptly, already stepping back from Draco and turning to leave.
Draco grabbed his arm and jerked him back around. “Go where?” Draco asked sharply.
“Voldemort’s furious,” Harry snapped, trying to think fast for something believable.
“What does that have to do with you leaving?” Draco asked, eyes narrowed.
Harry jerked his arm free and Draco let him go.
“I’ve got to warn the others,” Harry said, pressing the heel of his hand against his scar.
“Surely Voldemort had something planned for tonight if he was summoning his Death
Eaters.”
“But you have no idea what he has planned,” Draco said, sounding almost pleading.
“No, but if I warn everyone, we can prepare as best we can,” Harry said, his voice hard.
“Wherever Voldemort decides to attack tonight, hopefully someone can get word to us and
we can try to prevent the damage as much as possible.”
“I’ll get your cloak,” Narcissa said, swiftly leaving the room.
“I have to go, Draco,” Harry said, rubbing at his scar. “And I have to go now.”
Draco took a deep breath and gave Harry a jerky nod.
“I’ll be fine,” Harry said, softening. He kissed Draco quickly, before turning to leave.
Narcissa handed him his cloak in the front hall, and with one final glance at them, Harry was
out the door.
Harry Apparated to the alleyway near Grimmauld Place and had only ran a short way when
he heard a pop behind him. He whirled sharply, wand in hand.
Snape appeared startled to see him, but was almost instantly back in control. “Why are you
here, Potter?”
“My scar,” Harry answered simply.
Snape nodded curtly and quickly cast a Silencing Charm around the area they were standing.
“I have no time,” he said. “The Dark Lord is preparing to attack Hogsmeade. Within the
hour.”
Harry inhaled sharply, wide-eyed at that news. Snape gave him no time to question.
“The Malfoys are missing and he is furious,” Snape said, his gaze flicking to Harry’s
forehead. “I am only able to warn you because he thinks I am making a final check for them.
The Dark Lord plans to take out his fury on Hogsmeade and step up plans for trying to get
closer to Hogwarts.”
“He’ll know that you’ve warned us,” Harry said, his mind whirling with the shock. He’d
expected something, just not quite this. Snape seemed to have avoided punishment, but
Hogsmeade was to take the punishment instead.
Snape shook his head. “No. He has sent many out to check possible locations for the
Malfoys. All must return within fifteen minutes. He will be unaware who leaked the
information,” he said with cold satisfaction.
He looked at Harry intently. “Can you handle this?”
“I have to,” Harry snapped, spine straightening.
Snape nodded curtly, as if he had expected that answer. Harry watched as Snape Apparated
and then did so himself, his mind whirling feverishly.
He slammed back into the Dursley’s house, hoping he could save Hogsmeade and protect all
the secrets at the same time.
“What happened?!” Draco shouted, alarmed at Harry’s sudden appearance, particularly since
he’d just left a few minutes before.
Harry rubbed hard at his scar. “I know where Voldemort’s sending his followers and there’s
no time for questions!” Harry shouted. “Winky!” Winky popped in immediately. “Can you go
to Fred and George?” He barely waited for her nod. “Go to them and tell them I need them
here immediately with as much of their destructive product as they can stuff in their pockets.
Now!”
Winky popped out and Harry looked to Narcissa. “I need the other cloak, parchment and ink,
and then you might want to stay out of the way. They know about Draco, but not you.”
Narcissa nodded briskly and made for the stairs.
Harry tossed his new cloak at Draco. “You’re coming with me, but you’re going to keep your
arse hidden,” he said forcefully. “Go get anything the twins gave me that might be useful and
load it into the pockets of the cloak.”
Draco was wide-eyed, but immediately took to the stairs, two at a time.
Harry shouted, “Dobby!”
Dobby popped in almost instantly.
“Don’t start, Dobby,” Harry commanded. “Go to the Weasleys and tell them to get everyone
they can to Hogsmeade, prepared to fight, immediately. I’ve already told Fred and George.
Assuming the Death Eaters don’t get there first, I’ll meet them in front of The Three
Broomsticks.”
Dobby’s eyes were always large, but now they were absolutely enormous. “Anything for
Harry Potter, sir,” he said, before popping out again.
Harry took a deep breath as Narcissa came into view again as soon as Dobby was gone. She
looked scared and worried, but at the same time, she appeared determined. As she was laying
out the writing materials on a small side table in the entryway, Harry called for Fawkes.
He didn’t know how the hell Fawkes’ magic worked, but Fawkes appeared and rested heavily
on his shoulder just a moment later. The stray thought floated through Harry’s mind that he
was lucky there was so much instantaneousness to magic or Hogsmeade would never have a
chance.
Focusing, he glanced at Fawkes, and stroked his feathers once. “Will you be able to deliver a
message for me?” he asked. Fawkes trilled and Harry set about writing a quick note to
McGonagall. He’d thought about sending Dobby to her, but hoped this way would get
everyone there as quickly as possible.
Get everyone to Hogsmeade immediately.

Voldemort attacking within the hour.
I’ll be at Broomsticks shortly.
Weasleys know already.
Narcissa charmed it dry even as Harry was tossing the quill aside. He rolled it swiftly and
Fawkes took it in his beak. “Take it to McGonagall, then follow any instructions she gives
you,” Harry ordered. He hoped like hell McGonagall knew how to use Fawkes to get the
message to everyone else.
With a flash, Fawkes disappeared.
“Hogsmeade?” Draco questioned, having returned and read the note over Harry’s shoulder.
“Yes, he wants to get closer to Hogwarts,” Harry said sharply. “You need to hide or Fred and
George will see you,” he said to Narcissa.
She just shook her head. “You’re taking Draco?” she asked.
Harry nodded, but didn’t answer as the door suddenly slammed open again. His eyes flew
from the twins to Narcissa and back.
Fred and George stared at Narcissa for a second in astonishment. “You get around, Harry,”
George said in admiration. “House-elves and more Malfoys.”
“So, where to?” Fred asked, already their focus back to Harry.
“Voldemort plans to take Hogsmeade within the hour,” Harry said quickly. “I’m sending
Draco under the new cloak with you two to protect Honeydukes. Do whatever you have to do
to keep the Death Eaters away from there,” he ordered. “The three of you should be able to
handle that. Get some distractions going so the Death Eaters will hopefully avoid it all
together.”
Fred and George nodded in understanding. Draco looked questioning, but didn’t say anything
as he also nodded.
Harry hurried into the kitchen and began loading his pockets with several potions, while
Draco added several to the pockets of the other cloak with the twins’ help.
“Narcissa, box up the rest of the finished potions,” Harry said. Looking to Winky he added,
“When she has them all done, you and Dobby take them to the hospital wing at Hogwarts.”
Narcissa and Winky both nodded. Harry shook his head, trying to shake off the oddity of
giving orders to the two of them like that. Thankfully everyone was just following orders and
not questioning. Of course, he was about to go meet up with the rest of the Weasleys and who
knew all else. Surely there would be more questions there.
Harry took a deep breath, his mind working furiously to figure out if he’d forgotten anything.
“The snake!” he said suddenly.
Draco whirled and ran up the stairs. Harry actually smiled a little. Draco understood how the
snake could be a good weapon, as Harry had used it more than once on him.
Narcissa handed him his cloak and gave him a quick hug as they waited for Draco. She
looked to the twins who were watching in wide-eyed amazement. “Stay safe,” she said softly.
Fred and George nodded slowly.
Draco came barrelling back down the stairs, jumping the last half of the steps. He handed the
snake to Harry before giving his mother a quick hug.
“Ready?” Harry asked, the snake now wrapped around his neck. The others nodded and they
all ran to a place where they could Apparate, Harry in the lead.
Before Apparating, Harry gave Draco a quick, hard kiss. “Stay out of trouble,” he ordered,
grinning and including Fred and George in that warning.
The twins grinned back, as Draco smirked. “We will if you will,” Fred said cheerfully.
Draco and Harry slipped the Invisibility Cloaks on, and they Apparated. Harry hoped to hell
the Death Eaters weren’t in Hogsmeade yet.
*****
Adrenaline pumping furiously, Harry landed a little ways from The Three Broomsticks. He
hadn’t wanted to Apparate out in the open in case the Death Eaters were already there. If he
was lucky, Voldemort hadn’t even called back all the Death Eaters from searching for the
Malfoys yet. He had no idea how much time had actually passed, though, as everything
seemed to be happening so quickly.
Moving forward cautiously, after checking to make sure he was hidden completely under the
cloak, he looked out on the main street. He was thankful when he saw only Order members.
He slipped off the cloak and walked quickly towards the group of people gathering.
“Harry!”
All heads turned towards him, and Harry wondered briefly how exactly he’d gotten himself
to this point. He’d told Draco that he’d finally figured out he was the leader of the Light side,
but Merlin, didn’t these people know he was just a bloody teenager? He snorted softly. Then
again, they’d put him on a pedestal as a one-year-old. He reckoned their faith in him made at
least a little more sense now that he was almost seventeen and could actually understand
what was going on around him.
Silence fell upon the group as he approached, and he looked around at all of them. Hermione,
Ron and Ginny were there, too, he noted with surprise. He darted a glance at Mrs. Weasley,
who looked incredibly strained, as Harry’s friends moved to stand beside him.
“What’s happening, Harry?” Remus asked.
Harry tried to calm his trip-hammering heart with little success. “Voldemort’s furious,” he
said, rubbing at his scar, not just for effect. “He’s planning to take down Hogsmeade so he
can get closer to Hogwarts, and he’s organizing the Death Eaters to send them here within the
hour. I think it’ll be a large scale attack.”
Harry sought out Moody. “Is everyone in position, like they were the last time?” he asked.
“Yes,” Moody said. “A group is already placing extra wards on as many of the homes and
buildings as possible. We’ve got one group at either end of the town ready for attack. The rest
of us were just waiting for word from you.”
“We need more people,” Shacklebolt snapped angrily. “There are not enough of us, if what
Harry says is true.”
“Can’t the other Aurors be called in?” Harry asked. “Surely they’re cooperating with the
Order now, aren’t they?”
“The Order and the Ministry are still very separate entities, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall
informed him.
“Scrimgeour’s not sending any help?” Harry asked dangerously.
“Proper channels must be adhered to,” she said angrily.
Harry’s nostrils flared. Proper channels? After the bastard had tried to blackmail him?
“Can you connect me to him?” he asked sharply.
McGonagall looked at him in surprise, but then nodded. “Follow me,” she said crisply.
“Hold on,” Harry said. He faced Hermione, Ron and Ginny. “I need you three to go to the
Shrieking Shack, just in case,” he whispered quickly. They started to protest, but Harry
continued. “I’ve already posted Fred and George at Honeydukes.”
Ron and Hermione’s eyes widened as they suddenly understood why.
“We’re needed here to fight,” Ginny protested.
“No, we’re needed there,” Ron said, agreeing with Harry, much to Ginny’s confusion.
“I’ll take her,” Hermione said, grabbing hold of Ginny’s arm. “Good luck, Harry,” she said.
The three Apparated away, and Harry turned back to McGonagall, only to be faced with Mrs.
Weasley.
“Where did you send them?” she asked shrilly.
“I’ve posted them, and Fred and George, at places I need them,” Harry said firmly, with no
time to argue with her.
Remus put a reassuring hand on Mrs. Weasley’s arm. “I’m sure Harry’s doing his best to keep
them from getting hurt,” he said mildly.
Mr. Weasley stepped up to the other side of her. “Let Harry do his job,” he said to his wife.
Mrs. Weasley closed her eyes in defeat, nodding weakly.
“Thank you,” Harry said quietly, then moved quickly to follow McGonagall into The Three
Broomsticks, leaving Moody and Shacklebolt to finish directing people to wherever they
needed to be.
“Can we do this meeting somewhere private?” Harry asked, realizing there were a lot of
people holed up inside for safety.
McGonagall looked at him oddly, but nodded as she stepped behind the bar and into a back
room. Rosmerta let them go without question, looking scared and worried.
McGonagall cast Harry another odd look before she threw some Floo Powder into the
fireplace and called the Minister’s office.
“Rufus?” McGonagall called.
Harry could hear Scrimgeour on the other side. “I told you, Minerva, proper channels must be
adhered to,” he said sharply.
“So you’ve said,” McGonagall said briskly. “But I have someone here who wishes to speak
with you.” She didn’t wait for a response, instead moving back and gesturing Harry forward.
Harry stuck his head into the flames and felt his gut wrench at the sickening feeling of just
his head swirling to the other location.
“Potter?” Scrimgeour said in astonishment.
“Why the fuck won’t you send the Aurors here?” Harry asked furiously, getting straight to
the point.
“Potter, there’s no sign of Death Eater activity in the area,” Scrimgeour said, trying to sound
reasonable. “Proper channels must be followed and, as I’ve told Professor McGonagall,
Aurors will be sent to check the area tomorrow.”
“Proper channels, my arse,” Harry scoffed. “Those Death Eaters are coming at any minute
with the intention of flattening Hogsmeade. There won’t necessarily be an area to check if
you wait.”
“You can’t know this,” Scrimgeour said doubtfully.
“I’m called the fucking Chosen One for a reason, Scrimgeour,” Harry ground out, willing to
use whatever means he had to convince the man. “It’s not because I’m an idiot.”
Scrimgeour’s eyes narrowed.
“Now, get your arse moving and get every Auror you can out here to fight,” Harry said
coldly. “Then, tomorrow you can happily report to the public about what a fantastic job you
did of being able to prevent destruction of this town. If you don’t get help here immediately,
then I get to give my own report.”
“Are you threatening me, Potter?” Scrimgeour asked.
“No, just stating a fact,” Harry said, glaring dangerously. “I thought you understood I’m not
playing a fucking game. I also thought you understood I’m not playing things your way.”
Scrimgeour gazed at Harry for a few seconds before nodding sharply. “I’ll send all I can
immediately,” he said.
“Thank you,” Harry said pleasantly, before leaning back out of the flames and breaking the
connection.
“Very impressive,” McGonagall said, giving Harry a small smile. “Even Albus still had
difficulty attaining Ministry cooperation at times.”
“That’s because he wasn’t The Chosen One,” Harry said sarcastically. “It’s downright
ridiculous how much leverage I’ve got with it, but it seems to work with Scrimgeour, so I’ll
use it.”
Suddenly, several screams could be heard and Harry quickly covered himself with his cloak
as he and McGonagall carefully left the room.
“They’re outside,” Rosmerta said fearfully, pointing to the view outside the windows. They
couldn’t see much, but there was definitely light from spells shooting across the area. They
could also hear shouting and the sounds of the battle.
“Lock up behind me,” McGonagall said sharply.
Harry made sure she felt him slipping out the door before her, quickly moving to the side of
the door and trying to figure out what was happening.
It was chaos.
There were black robed figures everywhere he looked. So many duels were taking place.
Staring, Harry was overwhelmed for long seconds. Voldemort must have sent every bloody
follower he had for there to be so many Death Eaters in Hogsmeade.
Harry saw someone fall. He didn’t know who it was, but he jolted back into action.
He hissed quietly to the snake around his neck. “Can you bite the wand hand of anyone
wearing a white mask?”
“Yes,” Gryff hissed. Harry watched in satisfaction as a nearby Death Eater yelped suddenly,
jerking his wand hand. Whoever was duelling with him took advantage, disarming and
stunning.
“Perfect. Keep doing that,” Harry hissed.
“I have to be close enough,” the snake responded.
“Then, we’ll keep moving,” Harry hissed.
Adrenaline pumping furiously through his body, Harry stepped away from the wall.
Crouching low, he began skirting the duelling partners. He knew he needed to avoid battling
directly. If any of the Death Eaters caught sight of him, they would go for him immediately.
He knew he couldn’t afford to be caught, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do whatever he
could to help. It just meant not jumping into the middle of the battle. He darted around,
avoiding the duelling, but getting close enough for the snake to help. Trying to stay low, he
worked his way towards Honeydukes, hoping the twins and Draco were doing okay.
Harry inhaled sharply as he spotted a figure on the ground – not in Death Eater robes – blood
flowing.
“Bite them as hard as you can,” Harry hissed. “As many as possible, because I need to get in
there.”
Harry darted forward, dodging curses, trying to get to Tonks, lying so still on the ground.
Please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead.
“Tonks,” he whispered harshly.
“Harry?” she murmured.
“Shhh.” He grabbed her and Apparated, hoping like hell his destination would be clear.
“Harry!”
“Is it clear?” Harry asked quickly.
“There’s no one,” Ginny said.
“Tonks!” Hermione exclaimed anxiously. “Harry, she’s hurt badly. We’ve got to get her to
Hogwarts.”
“Just hold on,” Harry snapped impatiently. Tonks had blood flowing freely from a huge gash
along her arm and one alongside her head. It looked like someone had sliced down her side
from head to fingertips. She had passed out when Harry Apparated her, and blood was still
flowing, scaring the hell out of Harry.
Wand in hand, he placed it at the edge of the wound on her head and began muttering the
song-like incantation. He barely registered his friends staring at him in astonishment,
focusing on the injury.
He paused when he reached the end of the gash on her head. “Ginny, there’s potions in my
pockets,” he commanded. Better to have Ginny digging in his trouser pockets rather than
Hermione or Ron, and he didn’t want to take the time to do it himself. Already he was
placing his wand at Tonks’ shoulder and starting the incantation again.
He sat back on his heels after Ginny had retrieved the potions, but continued to focus on the
long slash along Tonks’ arm until he’d reached the end of it.
“It’s healing,” Ron breathed. “Where’d you learn that?” he asked.
“The book,” Harry snapped. He looked to the girls. “Try to revive her and make sure she
takes the dittany along with the Blood-Replenishing and the Pain-Relieving potions.”
Hermione nodded, but was looking between Harry and Tonks in amazement.
“Continue to keep watch,” Harry ordered. “Don’t leave and I’ll be back.” He didn’t wait for
their response and Apparated away again after covering himself with the cloak.
Battle was still waging in Hogsmeade. Harry appeared close to Honeydukes, quickly spotting
Fred tossing out some type of firecracker that was effectively keeping the area cleared. Harry
wrinkled his nose in disgust. It seemed the twins were also attempting to keep the Death
Eaters away by smell. He noticed another set of firecrackers going off near the other end of
the building, but didn’t see anyone.
“Where’s George?” Harry asked, coming up close to Fred.
“He got hit,” Fred said angrily. “Before the Aurors came, there were just too many of the
bastards.”
“Where is he?” Harry demanded.
“I don’t know,” Fred said quickly, lighting off something else.
“Why don’t you know?!” Harry shouted.
“Your friend moved him,” Fred answered. “I think he’s at the other corner of the building, or
somewhere close there.”
“I’m going to have to reveal myself,” Harry said, thinking quickly.
“I’ll try to cover you,” Fred said.

It was crazy. There were Aurors and Death Eaters fighting all over the small town. The front
of Honeydukes had a fairly wide semi-circle clear in front of it, though.
Harry ran to the other end of the building, as a huge, very bright and very loud firework
display went off in front of the store.
“George!” Harry shouted, removing his hood and hoping like hell Draco was actually close
enough to see and hear him in all the ruckus.
His arm was suddenly grabbed tightly and Harry flipped his hood up again. He was startled
when he was abruptly Apparated, and stumbled when he landed. Harry looked around wildly.
After the brightness of the fireworks display, it was suddenly pitch dark. Blinking furiously,
he tried to get his eyes to adjust.
Draco’s blond head suddenly appeared next to him, only to kneel down. “He’s hurt badly,
Harry,” he said anxiously. “He was caught in a nasty duel with Macnair. I got him out of
there, but I didn’t know where to take him or how to help him. I gave him one of the Pain-
Relieving Potions and one of the Blood-Replenishing, but I don’t know how to heal him. I
could only wrap his leg to keep pressure on it.”
George was unconscious, but still breathing. “Where are we?” Harry asked quickly.
“We’re just over the hill behind Honeydukes,” Draco said. “I didn’t want to take him far.”
Harry nodded. “Here, take Gryff,” he commanded, removing the snake from his neck and
passing it to Draco. “He knows to bite anyone in a mask. Keep helping Fred. I’m taking
George to the others at the Shrieking Shack.”
They exchanged a quick glance before Draco reapplied his Disillusionment Charm and each
of them Apparated.
“It’s George!” Ginny exclaimed, horrified at the sight of her brother.
“Help me!” Harry ordered, already working to tear George’s trousers away from the wound.
Ginny jumped in and applied pressure. Once Harry had the trousers clear, he nodded to
Ginny and she removed the cloth that had been covering it.
It looked awful; a wide gash splitting the flesh of George’s thigh down to the bone. Ginny
moaned, swaying where she was kneeling. Harry darted a glance at Ron, who was staring
transfixed at George’s leg. He wasn’t looking much better than Ginny.
Hoping they’d be okay, Harry put his wand tip to George’s thigh and began the incantation.
He didn’t even know if the spell would work on a wound this deep. He shuddered in relief
when he finished, the wound starting to close slowly.
Harry looked back to Ron and Ginny, who were also looking relieved, though still worried.
He frowned suddenly, glancing around the room. “Where’s Hermione and Tonks?” he
demanded.
“Hermione took Tonks to Hogwarts through the tunnel,” Ron said. “She healed, but she was
still weak and she still had other minor injuries.”
Harry nodded. “Ginny, do the same with George,” he commanded. “He should be fine in just
a bit.”
Ginny nodded weakly. “Thank you, Harry,” she said quietly. Ron nodded in agreement.
“I’ve got to tell Fred,” Harry said, rising to his feet again. He frowned, looking at Ron. “You
okay here by yourself?” he asked.
“Yeah, mate,” Ron answered firmly. “I’m here if you need me and I’ll keep watch still.”
Harry nodded gratefully before taking a deep breath and disappearing again. When he
appeared near Honeydukes, he found Fred leaning up against the side of the building.
“Fred?” Harry questioned, looking around the area.
Fred started and stood up straight. “Is he all right?”
“He’ll be fine,” Harry said quickly. “He’s healing and I left him with Ron and Ginny.
Ginny’ll be taking him to Hogwarts as soon as the wound’s completely closed.”
Fred collapsed back against the building again in relief.
“What’s happening?” Harry asked, feeling the sudden hand in the middle of his back. Odd
with them both in Invisibility Cloaks, but Draco could at least hear Harry, even if he couldn’t
see him.
“They just left,” Fred answered, sounding weary. “They seemed to finally give up.”
“Are you okay?” Harry asked in concern.
Fred smiled grimly. “Fine. Your boy found you yet?”
“Yes,” Harry said, not even attempting to argue that Draco wasn’t his boy. “He’s here.”
“Then I can tell him thanks and he’ll hear me,” Fred said quietly. Harry felt the hand on his
back shift and was fairly certain Draco was acknowledging Fred’s words somehow.
Fred suddenly grinned and shook his head. “The stories I’ll have to tell someday.”
“Ouch!” Fred yelped, jumping to the side.
Harry didn’t know exactly what Draco had done, but Fred had deserved it. Fred obviously
agreed, because he simply grinned wider.
“Go get Ron,” Harry said. “I’ll meet you up at Hogwarts soon.”
“Where are you going?” Fred asked.

Harry glanced around. “I should see if anyone else needs help,” he said quietly.
Fred sobered. “I think they’ve already taken the injured to the castle,” he said. “You won’t be
able to help anyone else here.”
Harry closed his eyes tightly, and was grateful when Draco pulled him close for a moment.
“Harry?” Fred called quietly.
Harry remembered that Fred still couldn’t see him. “I’m here,” he said, straightening again.
“Get Ron,” he repeated. “I’m going to Hogwarts.”
Fred nodded and disappeared.
“I’ll see you back at the house later,” Harry said to Draco. “I’ve got to go see if I can help.”
His arm was gripped tightly and for the second time that night Harry was Apparated by
Draco.
Harry looked around warily, and recognized that they were not far off the path outside the
Hogwarts gates. Draco dragged him behind some trees before pulling his hood back. Harry
slipped his own hood down.
“I want to go to the castle with you,” Draco said quickly, looking nervous.
“You aren’t going to be able to help at all,” Harry said.
“I know,” Draco said. “I just . . . I just want to go back to the castle with you.”
Harry closed his eyes. “This is really not a good time,” he said.
“Let me come with you,” Draco said pleadingly.
“I don’t have time to argue,” Harry said wearily.
“Then, I’m coming with you,” Draco said. He kissed him quickly, a brush of lips, before
pulling the hood back up.
Harry paused for a moment before heading to the castle. “Winky,” he called softly.
“Yes, Master Harry?” she said, popping into existence before him.
“Could you please let Narcissa know that Draco and I – and Hogsmeade – are safe?” Harry
asked. “Also tell her that it will still be awhile before we make it back.”
Winky nodded and bowed slightly before disappearing again.
Harry walked back to the path and slipped his cloak completely off since he didn’t actually
need it now. His mind shifting to think about who might, or might not, be in the hospital
wing, Harry picked up his pace and was soon running to the castle.
*****
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Notes

Chapter Twenty
Harry burst into the hospital wing, panting for breath. Oddly enough, under the
circumstances, hardly anyone seemed to notice. The hospital wing was chaos. Eyes darting
about wildly, Harry spotted Hermione rushing towards him.
He was expecting a hug. Instead, she grabbed his hand and started pulling him to another part
of the room. “Harry, you’ve got to come help,” she said, sounding desperate.
Alarmed, Harry hurriedly followed her, only to realize that she was leading him to Remus.
“Oh no, not Remus, too,” he said miserably.
“He’ll be fine, Mr. Potter,” Madam Pomfrey said sharply. “But I understand you know a
charm that will heal wounds like this more quickly?”
Harry nodded, wondering if Snape would kill him when he found out that Harry was letting
others in on the spell.
“Then heal him – quickly,” she ordered. “The Death Eaters seem to be using more and more
spells that are slicing people open,” she added. “There are others that need healing.”
Considering that she obviously had other patients to attend to, Pomfrey still stood to the side
and watched as Harry took up the position beside Remus. There were two large slashes
across Remus’ chest, reminding Harry sickeningly of when he’d sliced Draco open. Harry
guided his wand along the wounds, healing both of them. “He needs dittany,” he said quietly
when he was finished.
Madam Pomfrey nodded briskly, and Harry realized she was already holding a vial. “We will
talk later, Mr. Potter. For now, please have Ms. Granger direct you to the others who could
benefit from this spell tonight.”
Harry worked his way around the room, healing all open wounds that he could. Hermione
followed, offering vials of dittany afterwards. Harry soon realized that Madam Pomfrey was
essentially working on patients ahead of them, running checks and healing all other injuries.
So many injured. Some people Harry didn’t even recognize. But Charlie was back in a
hospital bed, and Mr. Weasley had sustained a knock to the head after he’d been stunned,
Harry learned.
Eventually, he ended up leaning against the wall closest to George’s bed. The Weasleys were
all talking quietly, and Harry was a little surprised that no one was asleep. Pomfrey always
drugged him to sleep when he was in the hospital wing. These were a bit different
circumstances, though, he had to admit.
He started when a hand squeezed his shoulder. His eyes widened marginally as he
remembered that Draco had followed him to Hogwarts. Draco was in the middle of the
Hogwarts hospital wing. Where all these people wanted him dead or in Azkaban. And Draco
called Harry stupid. Harry shifted closer to the body next to him anyway.
Now that things had calmed down dramatically, Harry saw McGonagall making her way
towards them, gathering Remus, Tonks, and Pomfrey along the way.
Harry stepped forward, away from Draco, as Remus neared. He was immediately enfolded in
a tight hug.
“Harry, I’m worried about you,” Remus murmured softly.
“I’m not the one who got hurt,” Harry retorted, his voice muffled by Remus’ chest. He could
feel the rumbling as Remus chuckled quietly.
“With as much blood as you have on you, you’d think you were injured, though,” Remus
said, pulling back and smiling gently.
Harry looked down at himself ruefully. “Yeah, a shower and change of clothes sound like a
wonderful idea.”
“Not yet, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said.
Harry groaned and moved to lean back against the wall again, as Pomfrey urged Remus and
Tonks to sit. He felt Draco brush against his side, and felt horribly exposed, despite the fact
that everyone had turned to gaze expectantly at McGonagall.
Pomfrey pulled privacy screens, then McGonagall cast Silencing Charms around their area,
making Harry extremely nervous about the fact that Draco was there. He had to consciously
remind himself that two of the most important things Draco didn’t know, concerned Snape
and the Horcruxes. McGonagall didn’t know about them either, though, so she certainly
wouldn’t be bringing them up.
His worries were pushed aside as McGonagall solemnly told them of the deaths. Several
people had died, and few of the names were ones that Harry recognized. He closed his eyes,
leaning his head back against the wall as he took in the news. Hearing about people dying
was, unfortunately, something he was becoming accustomed to.
He felt more of the guilt because he had been there this time and hadn’t been able to help. He
was the one who had called those people there. He also felt guilty because he was glad it
wasn’t anyone he was close to.
“Harry!”
He opened his eyes wearily, simply to see everyone staring at him. “It’s not your fault,
Harry,” Hermione snapped, even through her tears and while she was clutching at Ron.
“I didn’t say it was,” Harry said quietly.
“But you’re thinking it, mate,” Ron said. “Even I can see it.”
Harry quirked a half-smile. “Hermione been giving you lessons on observation?” he asked.
The group laughed a little through their tears.
“No, I just know you,” Ron retorted, grinning a little.
“Mr. Potter, your friends are correct,” McGonagall said. “I have gathered this group here to
give you this bad news personally, but also to tell you that your efforts have saved the town
of Hogsmeade and the people who live there.”
“I didn’t do it,” Harry protested. “I didn’t even fight,” he said bitterly. “I can’t afford to fight
yet.”
McGonagall held her hand up to silence the others who began to protest. “Potter, I am aware
that this was a group effort,” she began. “I am also aware that you did far more than not fight.
However, I do have many questions regarding your activities tonight.”
Harry looked at her guardedly. “I’m likely not going to answer them,“ he said warily.
“Yes, I am aware of that as well,” McGonagall said dryly. “Perhaps you could begin by
explaining this spell you used to save two lives and heal many others tonight,” she suggested.
Harry glanced from Tonks, to Remus, to George. Then noticed Bill smiling.
“Yes, Harry,” Bill said in amusement. “Do tell us.”

Harry smirked at him. “You’re just tired of trying to make up excuses,” he retorted.
Mrs. Weasley looked from Harry to Bill in astonishment, then back to Harry. “You healed
Bill?” she questioned.
Harry nodded reluctantly. She looked ready to jump up and smother Harry with hugs, but Mr.
Weasley put a staying hand on her shoulder.
“Why didn’t you tell us, Harry?” Hermione asked, frowning at him.
Harry sighed. “Because I didn’t know if it would work at first. And then I didn’t want, or
need, all the attention,” he explained. “Also, because I learned the spell from that book, and
didn’t feel like listening to you harp on me about it again.”
Hermione glared at him. “You tried using another spell from that book?”
“Yes, and it worked,” Harry snapped, sweeping his hand around to indicate half the people
he’d healed.
“It could be a Dark Arts spell,” Hermione went on, unrelenting despite the obvious good.
Harry shrugged. “I think its borderline,” he admitted.
“How could you even learn such a spell?” Remus asked, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Such a
powerful spell learned by only reading about it?”
Harry kept his gaze steady. “I learned a far worse spell simply by reading the name of it,” he
said evenly.
“That’s right,” Ron piped up. “That one you ‘bout killed Malfoy with a few months ago.”
Harry winced as chaos erupted.
He felt Draco’s hand brush along his arm, rubbing reassuringly. It felt reassuring, anyway,
and Harry was thankful he wasn’t getting poked or something. Hopefully Draco wasn’t
taking offence by all this.
“Enough!” McGonagall said sharply. Everyone quieted down almost instantly. “Mr. Potter, I
believe you have some explaining to do.”
Harry faced her with a hard expression. “I had read about a spell in Snape’s book, a note in
the margins. All I knew was the name of the spell and that it was for enemies. I caught
Malfoy by surprise and ended up in a duel with him. I used the spell. I spilt Malfoy’s blood,”
he said bluntly. “Snape used a spell to heal Malfoy. I recently found the spell Snape used and
learned it. It’s proved quite useful.”
McGonagall pursed her lips, and Harry was sure she wanted to question him further before
punishing him severely. He was surprised when she spoke again.
“I believe it best that we keep the nature of this spell amongst ourselves, but Potter, you will
need to instruct Poppy, in particular, about how to perform it,” McGonagall said firmly.
Harry nodded.
“It has indeed proved quite useful, and we are in difficult times,” McGonagall continued. “I
have many questions, but overwhelming the questions is my feeling of pride in all you’ve
accomplished tonight.”
Harry shifted uncomfortably, and McGonagall smiled. “I know you do not wish for the
recognition, but I am astonished that you were able to set things in motion so quickly. Your
handling of Scrimgeour was impressive. You brought the help here that we needed.”
She paused and narrowed her eyes at him suddenly. “Mr. Potter, I’ve spoken with many
people tonight, and several of them have commented that the Death Eaters often appeared to
have trouble with their wand hand. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
Harry cocked his head and smiled innocently, a smile that fooled nobody present. “I did
nothing to them,” he answered—truthfully.
“You will not tell us,” McGonagall corrected dryly.
“Not at the moment,” Harry agreed. He probably would have, but Draco had the snake and
there was no way of retrieving it in front of everyone.
“Is there anything you are willing to tell us?” she asked.
Harry frowned thoughtfully. “No, I don’t think so,” he said slowly.
“You are as secretive as Albus,” McGonagall tutted.
Harry grinned. “Thank you,” he said smugly. “I’m honoured.”
The group laughed, but most of them were still eyeing Harry questioningly, and a few with
open suspicion. Hermione and Remus, in particular, were definitely suspicious.
“So, if we’re through with grilling me for information, can you tell us about the Death Eaters
now?” Harry asked.
“Several were captured tonight,” McGonagall informed them. “But again, I do not believe we
have captured any of the higher ranked followers.”
“What about Snape and Malfoy?” Ron burst out angrily.
McGonagall shook her head sadly. “I have heard several reports that they witnessed Snape at
the battle, but he was not captured.” Harry wasn’t sure if she was sad because Snape was
there fighting on the wrong side, or because Snape hadn’t been captured.
Harry tried to keep his face expressionless, simply following the conversation.
“What about Malfoy?” Charlie spat. “The little bastard get away again?”
“I haven’t heard any reports of anyone even seeing him tonight,” McGonagall said.
“Perhaps Malfoy has just gotten better at hiding since last time,” Fred suggested, grinning at
Charlie.
“’Course, you ended up in the hospital wing again, anyway,” George added, also grinning
widely at his older brother.
Harry ducked his head, trying to keep a straight face, unable to believe the twins were
actually joking about the whole situation. The hand that had been brushing against his arm
had stilled and Harry pressed against the body next to him.
“Shut it, you two,” Charlie grumbled, but he was smiling. “It’s not like I’m the only one in
here.”
“I dearly wish you would all stop torturing me and stay out of the hospital wing in the
future,” Mrs. Weasley said sternly.
Harry was smiling along with the others at this point, when he noticed that he had Remus’
attention on him. Remus was frowning thoughtfully. Harry raised his brows in question, but
Remus just shook his head slightly.
“I think it is time for my patients to rest,” Pomfrey declared. “The rest of you should go home
and rest as well.” She looked at Harry. “I expect you back here tomorrow.”
Harry hesitated for a moment, but couldn’t see any easy way out of it. “I’ll be here,” he said
in resignation. “But I’m sleeping first,” he added.
She smiled and nodded in acceptance.
“Then, I think you will come have a nice little talk with me afterwards,” McGonagall said.
“Perhaps four o’clock?” she suggested.
Harry groaned. He really did hate “talks”. They were always stressful in one way or another.
And he was sure Draco was laughing underneath the cloak. “I’ll be here,” he grumbled.
“We will talk now, Harry,” Remus said mildly, but with a note of command.
“Remus, it’s late,” Harry protested.
“It’s very late,” Remus agreed. “You will spare me a few moments, nonetheless.”
Hermione looked disappointed that Remus was stealing him away. “Tomorrow, Harry,” she
said.
“I’m already being chewed out and questioned enough tomorrow,” Harry said sarcastically.
“I’ll see you Tuesday.”
“But Harry,” Hermione protested.
“No,” Harry said firmly. “I plan on sleeping, and then I have things to do.”
“Then, I’ll be here tomorrow so you can teach me that spell, too,” Hermione said
determinedly.
“Me, too,” Ginny piped up.
“I reckon that means I’ll be here,” Ron muttered.
“We’re coming as well,” Fred added cheerfully.
“Always did learn a lot in Harry’s lessons,” George agreed.
Harry rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll see everyone here around three o’clock tomorrow, then,” he
said, giving in.
“Splendid,” McGonagall said. “Rest well, Harry,” she said, smiling pleasantly.
Harry scowled at her and Hermione, knowing that he was likely to be grilled mercilessly the
next day.
“Come, Harry,” Remus said.
Sighing heavily, Harry followed Remus from the hospital wing. He paused, with the door
open, and glanced back at everyone. He’d only intended to pause long enough to let Draco
through, but he hesitated longer as he looked around the hospital wing. There were still a lot
of people there. Some injured and some just visiting. Almost all of them had helped fight to
protect Hogsmeade.
“There were more people taken to St. Mungo’s,” Remus said quietly. “A lot of people willing
to fight.” He looked at Harry directly. “All of them came based on you calling them.”
Harry sighed and finally shut the door and began walking with Remus.
“You feel responsible for them,” Remus stated.
“A little,” Harry said. “It’s hard not to.”
Remus hummed in response. He lapsed into silence for several minutes as they wandered
further away from the hospital wing.
Exhaustion was setting in for Harry and he wasn’t paying much attention to where they were
going, just letting his feet carry him along. It wasn’t until he felt a strong grip on his arm that
he realized they were heading up. Up towards the Astronomy Tower.
Harry stopped in the middle of the corridor. “Remus, where are we going?” he asked in
alarm.
Inexplicably, Remus smiled. “I wondered if there might be a problem heading up this
direction,” he said.
“Of course there’s a problem,” Harry snapped. “You know what happened up there.”
“Perhaps I do,” Remus said, nodding.
Harry frowned at Remus’ tone. He couldn’t figure out what Remus was getting at.
“Come. We’re near the Room of Requirement,” Remus said. “It has been a long night and I
could use a rest.”
Harry looked at him in concern. “I’m surprised you were let out of the hospital wing,” he said
in realization.
Remus smiled. “Luckily for me, Poppy had many distractions tonight,” he said.
Harry couldn’t help but smile in return. They changed directions slightly and made for the
Room of Requirement.
I need a comfortable place to talk with Remus. . . . I need a comfortable place to talk with
Remus. . . . I need a comfortable place to talk with Remus. . . .
The door appeared and Remus stepped forward to open it, leading the way inside. “Very nice,
Harry,” Remus said appreciatively.
Harry felt Draco brush past him and stepped inside himself, glancing around the room. It
looked like a comfortable common room, only without all the blatant house colours. It was
far more muted and cosy, with comfortable chairs and couches surrounding a large fireplace.
Remus sat down wearily in one of the armchairs and gestured for Harry to sit as well. Harry
sank onto a couch and instantly decided that he didn’t want to move again. He laid his head
back and moaned softly in relief.
“Comfortable?” Remus asked in amusement.
“I’m tired, Remus,” Harry said, pouting a little, eyes still closed. “It’s been an incredibly long
day. It’s the middle of the night. This is comfortable and I could fall asleep right here,” he
added.
“Perhaps your guest would appreciate an opportunity to sit down and rest as well,” Remus
said mildly.
Harry’s eyes flew open and he jerked his head up to stare at Remus. “You’re my guest here,”
he said slowly.
Remus nodded once in acknowledgement. “I am not the only one, however,” he said.
“Remus, why did you want to talk to me?” Harry asked, his voice growing hard. Remus
simply couldn’t know that Draco was there – could he?
“As I said earlier, I am worried about you,” Remus said, gazing at Harry in concern. “Also, I
wish you to know that whatever you need from me, you have my support.”
Harry looked at the man warily. They hadn’t been able to spend a whole lot of time together,
but Remus was the closest person Harry could claim as family. He could claim the Dursleys,
but even with Petunia’s slightly changed attitudes, they did not evoke nearly the same
emotions.
Remus smiled again. “I think, perhaps, you should have written the essay on werewolves that
you were assigned,” he said.
Harry frowned in confusion.
“The full moon is in a week,” Remus said mildly. “If you had ever written that essay, you
would know that a werewolf has a heightened sense of smell, especially as the full moon
nears.”
Harry’s eyes widened as it sunk in what Remus was implying. He could actually smell Draco
in the room with them.
“I do believe there is someone else here who should have written that essay as well,” Remus
added.
“What are you trying to say, Remus?” Harry asked sharply. If he really did know about
Draco, they could be in serious trouble.
“I am completely unaware of how this situation could have come about,” Remus admitted,
frowning. “But I am here to help in any way that I can. If you will let me.”
Harry lowered his head and tried to think. Could Remus be trusted? He wasn’t remotely as
excitable as Ron. As a Marauder, he wasn’t as much of a stickler of the rules as Hermione.
He had told Draco that he would not betray him, though.
Harry looked back at Remus steadily. “I’m sorry, Remus, but I can’t tell you anything,” he
said. Remus may suspect, but he had no proof.
Remus nodded in acceptance, but he looked disappointed.
“I don’t mean to disappoint you,” Harry said miserably.
“No, Harry,” Remus said, smiling sadly. “You could never disappoint me. I am incredibly
proud of you and all that you are doing. I am only disappointed in myself that I am unable to
help you more.”
“But you have been,” Harry protested.
“I believe you have taken on tasks that no others have been willing to take on,” Remus said.
“Where you are finding the strength to do so, I have no idea.”
Remus’ choice of words made Harry smile. Remus looked at him questioningly.
Harry shook his head, still smiling.
There was a rustling of fabric and Draco suddenly appeared, tense and watching Remus
warily. Remus had obviously known, but he still looked surprised to see Draco.
“Draco,” Harry hissed. “What are you doing?”
“He already knows I’m here,” Draco snapped.
“He only suspected, you twit,” Harry retorted irritably. “He never even mentioned you by
name.”
Draco rolled his eyes impatiently. “No, but we all know who you were talking about.”
“Well, yes,” Harry admitted. “But you didn’t have to show yourself.”
“I don’t think he’ll say anything,” Draco said.
Harry blinked. “Are you trying to convince me?” he asked in astonishment.
“If he knows, and is willing to help, then maybe he’ll help you with all the blasted
questioning you’re going to be going through tomorrow,” Draco snapped.
That made Harry pause and he looked back to Remus, who was watching them both in
amazement.
“Yes, well, do sit down, Mr. Malfoy,” Remus said dazedly.
Draco dropped down on the couch next to Harry, causing Remus’ brows to rise.
“You didn’t really believe he was here, did you?” Harry asked Remus.
Remus looked between the two boys sitting on the couch together. “I was fairly certain he
was here, but I’m not sure I actually believe it even now,” he admitted.
“Remus, you can’t tell anyone,” Harry said pleadingly.
“Do you know what you are doing, Harry?” Remus questioned.
Harry laughed harshly. “Hell no,” he exclaimed. “I can trust Draco, though.”
“Draco?” Remus questioned in disbelief, registering the use of Draco’s given name this time.
“How in the name of Merlin did you two ever get to first name basis?”
Harry glanced at Draco, who was now smirking. Harry smacked his thigh in warning. “Don’t
start,” he said.
“Didn’t say a word,” Draco said, still smirking.
Harry’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he turned back to answer Remus. “I, uh, kind of told
him he might as well call me by my first name when he moved in with me,” he admitted.
“He’s living with you?” Remus exclaimed, eyebrows rising to his hairline. “At the
Dursleys?”
“Um, yes,” Harry admitted nervously.
Remus opened his mouth to speak, but then couldn’t seem to close his mouth again, no words
coming forth.
“Remus?” Harry called worriedly.
Remus closed his mouth – then his eyes.
Harry glanced at Draco, not sure what to do about the situation. He pulled his wand and, after
a quick glance at Remus, he cast a Silencing Charm around him and Draco.
Draco sighed heavily. “We’re not going to get away without answering questions, are we?”
he asked Harry.
Harry shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he answered, sounding apologetic. “Maybe you
should tell him,” he suggested. “I don’t know how much you want me to say.”
“Does it matter to you?” Draco asked, frowning.
Harry shrugged. “I already trust Remus. It’s up to you how much you feel comfortable telling
him. I know this means you wouldn’t tell him anything if you had a choice, but . . .,” he
trailed off, shrugging again helplessly.
Draco rubbed at his eyes. “I can’t believe I’m contemplating telling the wolf anything,” he
muttered.
“You wouldn’t have had to tell him anything if you’d kept the cloak on,” Harry said irritably.
“But you need him on your side,” Draco snapped, glaring at Harry.
“I was handling it,” Harry protested.
“But you shouldn’t have to handle it all by yourself,” Draco retorted. “I’m not telling him for
my sake, you prat.”
“I didn’t ask for you to risk your safety,” Harry said, eyes glinting dangerously.
“No, you just ordered me to walk into the middle of a battle with you,” Draco said
sarcastically.
Harry jerked back as if he’d been hit, and Draco’s eyes widened.
“Harry,” Draco said pleadingly.
“No, you’re right,” Harry said stiffly. “I’ve said I would try to keep you safe and then I turn
around and order you to walk into a battle where you’re now wanted by both sides.”
“I’m not some damned self-sacrificing Gryffindor, but I am trying to help,” Draco snapped.
“I know we’re in the middle of a fucking war. I also know that you are literally at the centre
of it all. I’m not walking into this blind, but this is still difficult.”
He took a deep breath. “We both know Lupin isn’t one of my favourite people, but we also
both know that he is one of yours. He’d already learned I was here. That was my mistake,”
Draco admitted. “At this point, it makes sense to take advantage of him knowing. He could
help provide some much needed support for you.”
“The Slytherin thing to do,” Harry said slowly. “Take advantage of the situation, whatever it
may be.”
Draco nodded in agreement. “I know it’s a bit of a risk, but he sounded accepting,” he said,
grimacing a little. “Far less risky to tell Lupin the truth when he suspects anyway, than it
would be to tell the Weasel.”
Harry glared at him, and Draco rolled his eyes. “I’m only willing to go so far, Harry,” he
stated haughtily.
Harry nodded reluctantly in agreement. “You’ve gone further than I ever would’ve expected
from you,” he admitted.
“Sacrifices are often made in wars,” Draco said dryly.
“You’re making a lot of sacrifices,” Harry agreed.
“I’m not the only one making sacrifices,” Draco said seriously. “You’ve made a lot of
sacrifices for me and my family. I’m trying to do the same, but it’s not easy.”
Harry smiled warmly. “I appreciate it,” he said.
Draco glanced at Remus, who was watching them both with interest. “So, are you wanting to
tell him about us?” Draco asked.
“I reckon I should, if you’re willing,” Harry said. “I’m not sure how he’ll take the shock,
though,” he added nervously.
“Then let’s find out,” Draco said, his eyes glinting mischievously.
Harry wasn’t given a chance to ask how before Draco had leaned closer to kiss him. Harry
sighed into the kiss, not really caring about Remus for a few moments. Draco felt warm and
comforting pressed up against him, the kiss actually helping to relax him and soothe his
ragged nerves.
Draco pulled back and his lips quirked into a half-smile. Harry realized the kiss must have
done the same for Draco, because he looked a lot less tense now as well.
Harry finally broke the Silencing Charm and they turned to face Remus again. Harry felt bad
for Remus, who was staring at them, more gobsmacked than he had been at any other
moment during the night.
“I understand the desire for popcorn now,” Draco drawled in amusement.
Harry sniggered, darting a quick glance at Draco, before focusing on Remus again. “That
probably wasn’t the best way to tell you,” he said apologetically. “But Draco and I are kind of
together.”
“How?” Remus asked, the shock ringing in his voice.
Draco abruptly reached for the cloak he’d laid beside him on the couch and started digging in
the pockets. He retrieved three vials and handed one to Harry and passed one to Remus.
“Pepper-Up Potion,” he said. “We’re all exhausted, but I think we’re still going to be here
awhile,” he admitted.
Remus followed Harry’s lead and downed the contents of the vial. All of them feeling much
more alert, Draco began to explain exactly what had been happening since he’d showed up
with Victoria at the Dursleys. Harry helped fill in the parts about Scrimgeour, Winky, and the
twins. Draco explained about his mother and their desertion of the Dark Lord.
Remus listened intently to all of it, rarely interrupting, only asking a question now and then
for clarification. When they wound down their tale, Remus sat back and gazed at them both
in amazement.
“I am astonished at what the two of you have been able to overcome to reach this point,” he
said.
Harry and Draco both shrugged.
“Draco, would you mind if I have a private word with Harry?” Remus asked.
Draco looked surprised to be asked, but gestured for them to go ahead. Harry moved closer to
Remus and cast a quick Silencing Charm.
“You’re quite good at those,” Remus said.
“Lots of practice,” Harry said ruefully.
Remus sobered. “Harry, I wish to know if you are in contact with Severus as well,” he said.
Harry’s eyes narrowed. “Why would I be in contact with Snape?” he asked sharply.
“Why would you be in contact with Draco?” Remus returned.
“You heard us tell you about Victoria,” Harry retorted.
Remus waved his hand dismissively. “You’ve overcome a lot of anger,” he said. “You are not
the same as you were. I watched you in the hospital wing tonight. While Ron and the others
were still filled with anger, you barely reacted to the mention of either Snape or Malfoy. If
you’ve been able to reach . . . amicable relations with Draco, then perhaps you’ve been able
to reach some kind of truce with Severus as well.”
“Snape hates me, Remus,” Harry retorted. “In case you don’t remember,” he added
sarcastically.
“Snape hates everyone,” Remus said dryly. “That tells me nothing about whether you’ve
reached a truce with him.”
Harry sniggered quietly. “Draco’s still been making regular declarations of hatred,” he
admitted.
“And look where you two are,” Remus said.
A shudder passed through Harry’s body. “I’m not sleeping with Snape,” he said firmly.
Remus chuckled. “I would think Draco is enough for you to handle in that regard,” he said.
“Definitely,” Harry said, with feeling. His brow creased as his thoughts shifted back to Snape
and he debated whether to tell Remus or not.
Remus leaned forward, looking like he wanted to reach for Harry, but he didn’t. “Harry,” he
said, sounding horribly sad. “I made a huge mistake once, believing the worst of someone I
knew to be trustworthy. I convicted them along with everyone else, and I don’t intend to do
that again if I can help it.”
Harry’s eyes widened as he realized what Remus was saying. “You couldn’t have known,”
Harry said. His thoughts turned dark. “It was Pettigrew’s fault,” he said angrily. “You had
good reason not to trust.”
Remus shook his head sadly. “Maybe,” he said, clearly not believing it. “Peter was weak. I
knew that. I didn’t believe him capable of betraying you and your parents, but I knew he was
weak,” he repeated. “Sirius, on the other hand, was strong. He was always strong,” he said,
sounding sad and distant. “I knew that, but was still quick to believe the worst.”
“The situation was bad, though,” Harry admitted. “It didn’t look good for Sirius.”
“It doesn’t look good for Severus now,” Remus said quietly.
No, it didn’t, Harry admitted silently, his thoughts churning with what Remus was saying.
His emotions were twisting and turning in his gut.
“Severus is just as strong as Sirius,” Remus went on. “In fact, I think Severus is much
stronger in many ways. I refuse to simply convict Severus with the evidence at hand, no
matter how damning. If he has switched loyalties, then I will mourn the loss, but I will not
believe it without further proof.”
“He did kill Dumbledore,” Harry said, recognizing that he was playing Devil’s Advocate.
“Most people consider that enough evidence. Sirius didn’t actually kill anyone, even though
everyone thought he did.”
“But why did he kill Dumbledore?” Remus asked softly. “What else is there that I do not
know? We are living in extreme times.”
Harry nodded slowly. They were certainly living in extreme times and lots of things were
happening that shouldn’t be.
Remus sighed heavily. “I know you are keeping many secrets, Harry. I can only hope that a
truce with Severus is one of them.”
Harry met Remus’ gaze, staring intently. “You will keep my secrets and not question my
actions?” he asked.
Remus smiled in reassurance, glancing at Draco who was watching them both closely. “Yes,
Harry, I will keep your secrets. I understand how important your secrets are. I also recognize
that not everyone would understand your actions, but I can see what an impact you are
making.” He met Harry’s gaze again. “I cannot promise never to question, but I will promise
not to interfere with your decisions.”
Harry took a deep breath. “You know he’ll kill me for telling anyone, don’t you?” he asked.
Remus chuckled, clearly happy with Harry’s question. “He will not kill you. He may decide
to flay you within an inch of your life, however,” he said.
“That’s encouraging,” Harry said sarcastically.
Remus sighed in relief. “Severus warned you tonight, didn’t he?” he questioned.
“Yes,” Harry admitted. “But you can’t say anything, Remus. No one knows except me—and
now you. Draco doesn’t even know.”
“Severus doesn’t know about the Malfoys?” Remus asked curiously, brow furrowed.
Harry shook his head. “No, but he’s worried as hell about them. Not that he’d admit that to
me. I haven’t told him because I’m not sure how he’ll react,” he admitted. “I don’t
technically have any proof that the Malfoys have switched sides.”
Remus looked pained. “Harry, I must admit that I have my own concerns, but if anyone can
help you with this, it would be Severus,” he said.
Harry shrugged. “I know I’m going to have to tell him. The sooner I tell them all, the sooner
we can all get moved into Grimmauld Place.”
“You can access Grimmauld Place?” Remus asked in astonishment.
“Yeah, Dumbledore set it up for me and Snape,” Harry said carelessly. “I’m working on
making it liveable so I can get the Malfoys and me moved in there.”
Remus rubbed a hand down the side of his face, trying to process everything Harry was
telling him. Harry looked at him in sympathy. “I think I’ve probably given you enough
shocks tonight,” he said quietly. “You should go back to the hospital wing and get some rest.”
Remus chuckled quietly. “And just who is the adult here?” he asked.
Harry gave him a cheeky grin. “Pomfrey would say it wasn’t you because you can’t even
learn to stay in bed where you belong,” he said.
Remus laughed, nodding in agreement. “I do believe we all need to get some rest,” he
admitted.
Harry broke the Silencing Charm and looked over to Draco. “You okay?” he asked quietly.
Draco shrugged. “Fine,” he said warily. “In desperate need of a shower, though, and sleep for
twenty-four hours would be nice.”
Harry nodded in agreement. He wanted to be clean and in bed sleeping. He just didn’t want to
go through the effort of getting there. He also wondered if he should be checking in at
Grimmauld Place first.
“Winky?” he called, glancing warily at Remus. Remus didn’t comment, though. He only
looked on curiously.
Winky popped into the room, looking anxious and wringing her hands. “Yes, Master Harry?”
she said.
Harry frowned, sidetracked by her appearance. “Are you all right?” he asked.
She looked to both Remus and Draco before looking back at Harry with large, questioning
eyes. Harry’s frown deepened and, with a quick glance at the others, he cast yet another
Silencing Charm, around him and Winky this time. “What is it, Winky?” he asked. “Are
Narcissa and Victoria all right?”
Winky nodded. “Worried, but fine. Winky was called to the house by Master Snape.”
Harry’s eyes widened in alarm. “Is he all right?” he asked.
Winky’s eyes filled with tears as she shook her head. “Winky was not to inform you.”
“He’s not your master. I am,” Harry said sharply, willing to enforce that under the
circumstances. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Master Snape had me bring supplies for healing,” Winky said tearfully. “Not well at all.”
“Fuck!” Harry exclaimed. “Go back there and watch over him,” he ordered Winky. “I’ll be
there as soon as I can.” He broke the Silencing Charm and was already on his feet.
“Harry! What’s wrong?” Draco asked in alarm. “Mother? Victoria?”
“They’re fine,” Harry said hurriedly. “Go back and reassure your mum that you’re all right,
though.”
“Where are you going?” Draco asked.
“I’ve got to go,” Harry said in answer, heading for the door.
“Harry,” Remus called.
Harry glanced at Remus’ questioning, worried gaze and nodded once. Remus inhaled sharply.
“Go,” he ordered.
When Harry had paused, it had given Draco a chance to catch up to him. Draco kissed him
quickly. “Stay safe,” he murmured.
Harry smiled slightly and hoped it was reassuring. “I’ll be back at the house as soon as I
can,” he said, before he opened the door and took off running.
*****
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Notes

Chapter Twenty-One
Harry slammed into Grimmauld Place and Winky popped into the hall. “This way,” she said,
hurrying up the stairs.
He followed her up and into one of the bedrooms. He took little notice of the room itself, his
eyes immediately drawn to the figure sitting on the edge of the bed. He noted absently that it
was a damned good thing he wasn’t squeamish at the site of blood, because there was blood
everywhere. The fact that there was so much of it, though, was scaring the hell out of him.
“Potter,” Snape snarled, glaring at him.
“What happened?” Harry asked, hurrying over and ignoring the warning.
“Get out of here, Potter,” Snape ordered, not answering Harry’s question.
Harry didn’t miss Snape’s ashen appearance or his obvious weakness. He ignored the shock
of seeing Snape without his robes, wearing only trousers. The condition of the man’s bare
chest and back was far more shocking.
“You’re hurt,” Harry snapped. “I’m the only one you’ve got here, so you’re just going to
have to put up with me.”
“I will be fine,” Snape ground out. “I do not need you here.”
Harry ignored him. “What happened?” he asked again, studying the wounds across Snape’s
chest. The man had obviously been trying to clean them up, but more blood was oozing from
the wounds. It looked like some had already been healed, considering the blood patterns.
He pulled his wand and crouched down before Snape.
“What are you doing?” Snape asked, eyes narrowed.
“I’m going to help heal these,” Harry said absently.
“Have you been healing others tonight?” Snape asked sharply.
Harry glanced up, realizing that Snape was eyeing his blood-stained clothes critically.
“Yes,” Harry said warily. He did not want to argue about the use of the spell right now. Snape
desperately needed healing, whether he wanted Harry’s help or not.
“I gather you can use the spell on yourself – which is good to know – but you’re weakening
with all the blood loss,” he said. “It’ll be faster if I do it, and you’re not going to be able to
reach your back, anyway.”
He lifted his wand, but his wrist was suddenly grasped. Harry looked up at Snape
questioningly. Snape gazed at him intently, seeming to be searching for something. Harry
figured he must have found what he was searching for because Snape gave a slight nod and
released his wrist without a word.
Harry focused on the wounds again, and started to guide his wand along them. Winky
brought fresh water and towels and he would pause to wash away some of the blood. Snape
continued to watch intently, but didn’t comment or interfere. He only stopped Harry once
when he reached for his pouch of potions and, selecting a couple of them, he drank them
quickly.
As the flesh was slowly knitting together on Snape’s chest and abdomen, Harry climbed onto
the bed so he could start on his back. He winced, noticing that the long lashes were even
deeper. Putting his concentration to the task, he began the process of healing them.
“Potter,” Snape said weakly. Harry paused before starting on the next slash.
“Yes?” Harry asked softly, noticing that Snape was swaying slightly.
“Need to lie down,” Snape murmured.
Harry honestly had trouble believing Snape had lasted as long as he had. He moved quickly
off the bed. He noted that Snape’s chest had healed completely now and moved to help the
man lie down on his front. Snape had to have been doing badly because he allowed Harry’s
help without protest.
Snape’s eyes closed and Harry wondered if the man was going to finally pass out. He
carefully climbed back onto the bed and worked to finish healing all the wounds. Once done,
he checked on the man, realizing he was breathing evenly. Surprisingly, or not so surprisingly
considering the circumstances, Snape had actually fallen asleep—in Harry’s presence.
Checking the empty vials, Harry realized that Snape had actually taken some Dreamless
Sleep before lying down.
Harry stared in astonishment. The man hadn’t wanted him there at all, and then deliberately
knocked himself out? Admittedly, the man desperately needed the rest and healing time, but .
. . he never would have expected Snape to trust him that much.
Shaking his head in disbelief, and wishing he could go to sleep himself, Harry began to get
Snape actually cleaned up. He snorted softly to himself. Maybe Snape just didn’t want to be
conscious for this humiliation. Keeping himself clinically focused on the task at hand, he
stripped the man down and washed away all the blood. He didn’t know where Winky found
them, but she produced some clean night clothes. Harry struggled to get Snape covered,
knowing the man wasn’t going to be happy with this at all. Grimacing, Harry hoped Snape
knew he wasn’t at all happy with this, either.
How the hell did he get himself into these situations, he grumbled to himself. No student
should ever have to see their professor naked. Harry refused to dwell on it, but knew that, in
one sense, he found that far more disturbing than seeing the actual injuries.
Between him and Winky, they eventually got Snape settled in clean bedding. Harry stared
down at the man who was now sleeping comfortably. The man was a complete and total
mystery to Harry, but he couldn’t help feeling for him.
He just wasn’t sure what he felt for Snape. They weren’t exactly professor and student
anymore. They weren’t really enemies like Harry had thought for a time. They weren’t
exactly friends, though, either. They certainly weren’t lovers like Remus had teased. Harry
grimaced at that thought. No, seeing Snape naked had definitely not done anything for him.
He sighed as he continued to stare at the man. Whatever they were, Harry was worried about
him. He’d never thought it possible before, but he was truly worried about Snape. He knew
that Snape had ended up taking the punishment for the Malfoys having disappeared and the
failure to take Hogsmeade. Likely others had been punished, too, and Snape was probably
lucky to be alive.
It had finally occurred to him while healing that Snape had been whipped. Those had been
lash marks covering his chest and back. Harry had no idea what other injuries or curses
Snape had endured, but he knew that he’d endured a lot.
Snape needed to be told where the Malfoys were. He’d just taken the punishment for them
and deserved that much, at least. He may or may not be happy that Harry was hiding them,
but the man shouldn’t have to worry any longer about where they were. He dealt with too
much as it was.
Harry smiled. He wondered if he should be worried about Snape’s sanity. The man had to be
slipping to take a Dreamless Sleep potion while the boy-he-loved-to-hate had a wand pointed
at his back.
“Master Harry?” Winky called hesitantly.
Blinking, Harry turned inquisitively.
“There are fresh towels and clothing in the bathroom for you,” Winky said.
Harry smiled gratefully. “Thank you,” he said. He cast a brief glance at Snape. “Are the
others doing all right?” he asked.
“They are awake, waiting,” she replied softly.
“Then I should hurry,” Harry said, sighing. “Stay here and watch over him, please?” he
asked. “He should be fine now, but come get me if there’s any problem at all.”
Winky nodded.
Harry showered quickly, wishing he had time to relax under the gloriously hot water. He
dressed in the jeans and t-shirt Winky had left for him and shoved his trainers on his feet.
Checking on Snape one last time, he left a note saying that he’d be back the next night, but
Winky could reach him beforehand if need be. For Snape’s sake, Harry hoped the man
actually slept most of that time.
He wearily left the house, wondering absently what time it was.
*****
“Are you all right?” Draco asked, looking Harry over anxiously as he stepped into the
Dursley’s house.
“I’m fine,” Harry said. “Just exhausted.”
Narcissa stepped forward, looking relieved. “You’ve had us very worried,” she said quietly.
Harry shrugged. “I had things to do,” he said simply.
Draco’s face tightened for a moment before relaxing. “Harry, you’ve got far too many things
to do,” he drawled.
Harry smiled tiredly. “I know, but there’s not much I can do about that,” he said.
“Bed,” Narcissa said firmly. “You will only have another busy day tomorrow, and tomorrow
is a very short time away.”
Groaning, Harry started for the stairs.
“Um, Harry?” Draco said, stopping him.
Harry raised a brow in question, causing Draco to look at him oddly.

Draco shook his head and focused again. “Lupin will be here at one o’clock,” he said.
Harry darted a glance at Narcissa, who nodded.
“Yes, Draco informed me,” she said calmly.
“Lupin wants to talk to you again before you go back to Hogwarts,” Draco explained. “I
think he also wants to see personally that my mother and I are actually living here,” he added
wryly.
“Are you all right with this?” Harry asked Narcissa.
“I respect his wish to make sure you are safe,” she said by way of answer.
Harry nodded wearily. In other words, she wasn’t happy with it, but she accepted it. Good
enough.
It didn’t take long for him to change and crawl into bed, Draco right behind him. They fell
asleep quickly, wrapped snugly together, and never even heard Narcissa come into the room.
*****
Harry was still in bed and blearily attempting to wake up when the knock at the front door
was heard. Narcissa gazed at him sympathetically as he rolled out of bed, grumbling about
having to get up.
He padded down the stairs to let Remus in, wondering absently where Aunt Petunia had
disappeared. Not that she would’ve willingly let Remus in, even if she had been around.
Remus looked at him with as much sympathy as Narcissa, and Harry was simply finding it
irritating. He didn’t say anything, but held the door open wider and gestured for Remus to
come in.
“What happened last night, Harry?” Remus asked in concern.
“I don’t have my wand,” Harry muttered.
Understanding, Remus cast a Silencing Charm around them.
“The git was injured badly,” Harry grumbled. “I helped patch him up and hopefully he’s still
sleeping it off.”
“He let you heal him?” Remus questioned in disbelief.
Harry shrugged. “There was no one else around to do it,” he said. “He didn’t have much
choice.” He didn’t feel like talking about it. He turned and started for the stairs. “You might
as well come upstairs.”
Frowning, Remus dropped the Silencing Charm and followed. He stopped and stared in
astonishment when they arrived at Harry’s room.
“Remus Lupin, Narcissa Malfoy,” Harry said, gesturing to each person as he said their
names. “I’m sure you already know each other.” He dropped down onto the bed with the
rumpled Draco. Draco lay back down with him and they both closed their eyes.
“Don’t you two go back to sleep,” Narcissa warned.
They grumbled incoherently. Narcissa shot them an irritated glare before standing to greet
Remus. She held her hand out. “Mr. Lupin,” she said graciously. “It’s a pleasure.”
Nonplussed, but grateful his manners kicked in regardless, Remus shook her hand. “Mrs.
Malfoy,” he said with a nod. “Call me Remus.”
“And do call me Narcissa. Please, have a seat,” she gestured. “Can I offer you some tea? Or
something stronger, perhaps?” she asked with a wry smile.
Remus relaxed a little and smiled in return. “I would appreciate something stronger, but
perhaps it is best if I stick with tea,” he said.
Narcissa smiled in understanding. She’d had Winky bring tea and a bit of lunch for the boys,
which was spread out on the desk. They quickly prepared the tea to their liking before sitting
down.
“Excuse me for this,” Narcissa said in advance apology. “Boys!” she said sharply. “Harry,
Draco, we have a guest. You will not lie there and go back to sleep.”
“’S just Remus,” Harry protested.
Narcissa sighed. “Harry, he is still your guest,” she attempted to explain.
“’S a manners thing,” Draco mumbled.
“You should have more respect, Draco,” Narcissa snapped. “You’ve been taught better than
this.”
“Thank Merlin I haven’t been taught these manners things,” Harry said, starting to grin,
despite his eyes being closed.
“I always thought you were deprived,” Draco said, smiling as well by now. “I was clearly
wrong.”
“Boys!” Narcissa exclaimed in exasperation.
Remus chuckled along with Harry and Draco as they sat up. “And to think most people
would worry about Draco corrupting Harry when the reality appears to be the other way
around,” he said in amusement.
“When they work together, I believe we are all in trouble,” Narcissa said dryly. “They will
corrupt each other and anyone around them.”
Harry and Draco both smirked, extremely satisfied with themselves.

Narcissa shook her head in resignation. “You two go get dressed,” she said.
“Which translates to mean she’d like to talk to Lupin in private,” Draco said, shoving at
Harry so he could get out of bed.
“At least they seem to have those manners things,” Harry agreed, rolling out of bed. “So I
think we can count on them not trying to kill each other.”
“Harry, do you have no respect for the seriousness of this situation?” Remus asked, sounding
curious as much as reproachful.
Harry shrugged carelessly, but his gaze was serious as he looked between Remus and
Narcissa. “I’ve got enough things to be serious about, and I’m not worried much about the
two of you. I know you’re both worried about me and Draco,” he said. “If protecting our
safety means you two have to behave civilly towards each other, then I think you’ll do that. If
I’m wrong, then tell me now.”
Remus exchanged a glance with Narcissa, before shaking his head at Harry. “No, you’re
right, Harry,” he said mildly.
With an armful of clothing, Draco grabbed Harry’s hand to pull him out of the room.
“I hope I’m right,” Harry muttered as he padded down the hallway.
“I think they’ll be fine,” Draco said, although he sounded a little anxious as well. “We just
need to give them some time to talk.”
“Yeah,” Harry agreed, shutting the bathroom door behind them. He looked at Draco, who was
setting their clothes on the counter. Leaning back against the door, he smiled mischievously.
“So, what can we do to waste a little time?” he asked.
Hearing the tone, Draco’s head snapped up. “I’m sure we can think of something,” Draco
drawled, stepping over to Harry.
They were quickly absorbed in the task of kissing each other senseless. Draco’s hands
roamed across Harry’s shoulders, up his neck and were soon tangled in Harry’s hair. Harry’s
hands were roaming up and down Draco’s back, exploring the smooth, warm skin.
Tucking his thumbs into the waistband of Draco’s pyjama bottoms, Harry hesitated. He didn’t
know how far Draco was willing to go, and he still didn’t really have a clue as to what he was
doing. Not stopping in his exploration of Harry’s mouth, Draco wriggled his hips in
encouragement.
Harry groaned deep in his throat as Draco’s movements triggered waves of sensation to travel
through his groin and outwards through his body. Vaguely remembering that he was the brave
Gryffindor, Harry hooked his thumbs and slid Draco’s pyjama bottoms down. The silk pooled
at Draco’s feet and Harry’s own pyjamas quickly joined them on the floor.
“Oh gods,” Draco groaned, ripping his mouth away.

Both boys were breathing heavily as they looked down to where their cocks were brushing
against each other. Transfixed by the sight, Harry slowly reached to take Draco’s cock in his
hand, wrapping his fingers around and squeezing gently.
Draco whimpered, and Harry’s eyes flicked up to look at Draco’s face. His cheeks were
flushed pink and his face was awash with obvious pleasure. Deciding he was doing
something right, Harry’s eyes travelled back to Draco’s cock in his hand.
Only knowing what he himself liked, Harry began to mimic the motions. He swiped his
thumb across the head, smearing the leaking pre-come. He squeezed again gently before
pumping his fist up and down.
“Harry,” Draco moaned.
Harry’s eyes flicked back to Draco’s face, meeting silver, glazed eyes. Holding Draco’s gaze,
he brought his hand up and licked his palm and along his fingers. Draco inhaled sharply,
knowing what Harry intended.
Looking down again, Harry gripped Draco’s cock firmly and revelled in the hissing issuing
from Draco’s lips. With his attention focused on bringing Draco pleasure, he was startled
when Draco’s hand reached for his own cock. Harry’s rhythmic pumping faltered as Draco
touched him.
“Oh, that’s good, Draco,” Harry moaned.
“Don’t stop,” Draco protested breathily.
Harry picked up his motions again, watching and feeling as Draco did the same to him. He
felt Draco tensing and knew he was going to come. He pumped faster and watched in
fascination as pearly streams of come jetted from Draco’s cock. Some of the hot creaminess
landed on his own cock, which Draco swiftly smeared as he continued to stroke Harry.
Groaning, Harry came, unable to hold back.
Draco slumped against Harry, even as Harry slumped against the door. They slid to the floor,
limbs tangling together and breathing ragged.
“That felt good,” Harry said a couple minutes later.
Chuckling, Draco shifted to kiss Harry lightly. “Yes, it did,” he agreed.
It was new and wonderful, and Harry loved it. “I can’t wait to do more,” he said.
“We’ll get there, lover boy,” Draco drawled in amusement. “One step at a time.” He cocked
his head to the side. “You’re not exactly the patient sort, are you?”
“And you are?” Harry retorted.
Draco smirked. “No,” he admitted. “But I happen to be enjoying all of this.”
“Me, too,” Harry agreed softly.

“Come on,” Draco said, rising to his feet and holding out a hand to help Harry up. “Take a
shower with me.”
“You want me to shower with you?” Harry asked in surprise.
“Why not?” Draco asked. “It’s not like we haven’t seen each other naked,” he said
reasonably.
Harry frowned for a moment. Much as he wanted to do even more with Draco, he did wonder
if they were moving awfully fast. He shrugged off his hesitancy. He would get to see Draco
with water streaming over his naked body. He’d be an idiot not to accept the invitation.
Draco smirked knowingly and moved to turn the water on.
*****
“Did you two work out your differences?” Harry asked, walking back into his room. He
picked up Victoria as Narcissa held her up for him.
“Yes,” Narcissa said wryly, looking at the two boys, both with wet hair. “Now that you and
Draco are through, perhaps you could feed Victoria, and have some food yourself, before you
have to leave.”
Harry grinned, unrepentant. “I could do that,” he agreed, sitting down on the bed with the
little girl as Draco gathered up some plates of food for them. Draco tossed Harry a banana.
He peeled the skin back and broke off a small bite for Victoria. She reached for more, but
Harry only gave her another little bite. He’d just showered and had to leave soon. He really
didn’t want to get covered in mushy banana first thing.
“Na,” Victoria demanded.
“Yes, banana,” Harry said. “But you’re not getting the whole thing at once.”
“Here,” Draco said, tossing Harry a roll.
“You want some bread?” Harry asked her, breaking off half the roll and trying to hand it to
her.
“Na,” she demanded.
“Why’d you have to start with a banana?” Harry whinged, looking at Draco.
Draco shrugged. “She likes them,” he said.
“I don’t want to go to Hogwarts covered in banana,” Harry said.
Draco rolled his eyes. “It’s not like you don’t know the cleaning charms,” he drawled.
“It’s not the same,” Harry grumbled, handing Victoria another small bite, which she grabbed
eagerly. He broke off a larger bite for himself and popped it into his mouth.
Draco set a plate down beside him before sitting down on the other side of Victoria with his
own plate. He fed Victoria a bite of cooked carrot, which she mashed between her gums just
as happily as she had the banana.
Grateful Victoria was distracted, Harry picked up his own plate and began eating. He had
taken a few bites before he realized Remus was watching him curiously.
Harry lifted an eyebrow questioningly.
Remus shook his head slightly. “I’m just a little surprised at the ease with which you two
seem to work together – taking care of a small child.”
Harry shrugged carelessly. “We’re slowly getting things figured out,” he said before taking
another bite.
“The three of you – well, you . . .,” Remus trailed off uncertainly.
Harry exchanged a curious glance with Draco before looking back to Remus.
“I see it as well,” Narcissa said softly to Remus.
“See what?” Draco demanded, beginning to get irritated with these vague comments.
Remus glanced at Narcissa before answering. “The three of you look like a family,” he said
quietly.
Harry started, almost dropping his plate.
“With Victoria’s black hair and grey eyes, she looks like she is both of yours,” Remus
continued. “And the two of you appear to be her parents – together.”
“Legally, she is a Potter as well as a Malfoy,” Draco said dryly.
Harry felt his chest constrict painfully. He knew that despite whatever was happening
between him and Draco, they weren’t a family. He realized suddenly that he wished to be,
though. Up until this moment, taking care of Victoria and his developing relationship with
Draco were two separate issues. But they weren’t. Draco and Victoria came together. And
Harry wanted them both.
He didn’t belong. He was just a little interlude because of circumstances, and that fact had
never hit as hard as it did now.
Abruptly, he set his plate aside. “I’ve got to run to the loo,” he said as an excuse, hurriedly
leaving the room. He practically ran down the hall and locked himself in the bathroom. He
slid down the door to the floor, where he and Draco had been not that long before.
What was he doing? He was getting himself deeper and deeper involved, and he was just
going to end up hurt. He banged his head despairingly against the door. This was going to
hurt severely.
“Harry?” Remus called, knocking on the other side of the door.
Sighing heavily, Harry stood and attempted to rein in his emotions. He opened the door to
find Remus smiling sadly. “Come here,” Remus said softly, holding his arms open.
Harry stepped into the embrace gratefully, wondering how bad he must look for Remus to
react this way. “Oh, Harry,” Remus murmured. “You’ve fallen hard, haven’t you?”
Harry couldn’t bring himself to answer. What was he supposed to say? Remus seemed to
already know that he was an idiot. He allowed himself to be guided down the stairs and sat
down on the couch in the sitting room. He registered Remus casting the Silencing Charm
around them, before he was pulled close again.
“I’m an idiot,” Harry mumbled against Remus’ chest.
“No, Harry,” Remus said gently. “Falling in love does not make you an idiot.”
Harry pulled back in shock. “Am I actually in love?”
Remus chuckled. “You seem to have the symptoms,” he said wryly. “What did you think it
was?”
Harry frowned. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just . . . I just realized that I’m setting myself
up for one hell of a fall.”
“What do you mean?” Remus prompted.
Harry tried to gather his thoughts. “You said we looked like a family, and I realized how
much I wanted it. I mean, I’ve always wanted a family, but I want this family. I want Draco
and Victoria. Somehow, I’d never connected what’s been happening between me and Draco
to Victoria. They come together, and I’m not going to be able to keep them forever,” he said
sadly.
“Because this is just a temporary situation,” Remus stated.
“Yeah,” Harry sighed.
“How do you feel about Draco?” Remus questioned.
Unknowingly, Harry’s eyes sparkled animatedly. “Well, he can still be a right bastard, but
he’s incredible,” he said.
Remus smiled, but didn’t interrupt.
“I know everyone would think I was mental, but I like him,” Harry said. “It is mental,
because I’ve hated him for years,” he admitted. “But he’s caring and strong and funny. He
feels as strongly about family as I do.”
His brow furrowed deeply as he continued slowly. “Draco understands me and I think I
understand him. Not everything, of course, but important things. I don’t agree with all of it,
but I respect why he was doing what he was doing.”
Remus simply nodded in acceptance, not questioning or disagreeing.
“I trust him,” Harry said. “It may not make sense to trust him, but I do. I want to do
everything I can to protect him and keep him safe, but at the same time I know that he can
take care of himself most of the time.” He grinned suddenly. “He makes a really lousy Death
Eater, though. How he managed to survive this long with that lot, I have no idea.”
Remus chuckled. “Somehow, I think that might be considered a strength rather than a
weakness.”
Harry nodded in agreement. “That’s what I’ve decided. He’s strong, Remus,” he said. “It’s
taken far more strength to switch sides than it did to follow blindly.”
“I agree, Harry,” Remus said quietly.
“It’s become kind of a ridiculous private joke, but he’s my strength,” Harry said softly. “No
matter what’s happening, he’s there for me.” He tilted his head to the side. “He might be there
arguing with me, but he’s there.”
“You do seem to have a rather unique relationship,” Remus said in amusement.
Harry shrugged, grinning. “I’m not sure we’d know what to do if we didn’t argue. Odd as it
may sound, I like it. He’s honest with me. If he doesn’t like something, I know it. There’s no
tip toeing around each other.”
Remus nodded in understanding. “There’s also no denying that physically you seem to be
compatible,” he said dryly.
“He’s hot,” Harry said, smirking. “I’m disappointed in myself for not figuring this out
sooner.”
Remus shook his head in exasperation. “The boy is scrawny and looks like he hasn’t eaten
properly in months. He has deep shadows under his eyes which make him look like he hasn’t
slept properly in months, either.”
Harry frowned. “Well, yeah,” he said, baffled as to why Remus was suddenly insulting
Draco’s appearance. He thought Draco was actually starting to look a lot better now that he
was getting some proper rest and he was eating well again. He certainly looked a lot healthier
than he had when he’d first shown up at the beginning of the summer.
“Harry, my point is simply that this is obviously not a relationship being built solely on
physical attraction like so many teenage relationships,” Remus said, smiling.
“Oh,” Harry said. “But I am attracted to him.”
“Yes, and if you are attracted to him even when he does not look his best, then it goes beyond
the boundaries of a shallow attraction,” Remus attempted to explain.
“Is this what I’m feeling then – love?” Harry asked.
Remus smiled. “Harry, I’ve only seen you two together for a short time, last night and this
afternoon. During that time, I’ve seen a couple very much at ease with each other. Whether
you are arguing, making major decisions, feeding a small child, or reclining in bed together
with company present,” he added the last wryly.
Harry was listening intently, but he couldn’t help grinning.
Remus shook his head ruefully, but continued soberly after taking a deep breath. “You and
Draco remind me of your parents,” he said.
Harry inhaled sharply, the grin falling from his features as he stared incredulously.
“James and Lily loved each other very much and would do anything for each other and their
little boy,” Remus said softly. “They argued and disagreed about plenty of things, but it never
seemed to matter in the long run. They did everything together and worked well together.
Their animosity in their younger years wasn’t as severe as that between you and Draco, but it
was there. Once they discovered they actually liked each other, there wasn’t anything that
was going to separate them.”
That brought Harry full circle back to his original concerns. “But Remus, this is all just
temporary,” he said. “It’s different circumstances than it was for my parents.”
“Different circumstances, but still difficult times,” Remus said. “I think you are selling
yourself short by saying Draco only wants you temporarily.”
Harry sighed heavily, running his hands through his hair. “You don’t think it’s just because
I’m the only one available?” he asked bitterly. “Once things are better, he’ll be able to get
custody of Victoria back and he can move on.”
“I don’t know if what I’m feeling is love or not, but I know it’s going to hurt like hell when
he decides to leave,” he said miserably. “What would I do without him? Without Victoria?
They mean everything to me, Remus.”
He paused, bowing his head as he understood. “I love them,” he said flatly. “As impossible as
it is, I love Draco Malfoy.”
“Oh, Harry,” Remus said, pulling Harry close again. “Not impossible. And I think he cares
just as deeply for you.”
Harry snorted. “Remus, he’s probably upstairs complaining about what a prat I am again. He
doesn’t care about me like that.”
“Harry, Draco has been standing in the doorway watching you anxiously almost this entire
time,” Remus said quietly.
Harry started and whipped his head around. Draco was indeed leaning against the side of the
doorway, watching with narrowed eyes.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Harry accused, turning back to Remus.
“You needed to talk about it,” Remus said simply. “Love can be glorious and wonderful, but
also confusing. I’m here to listen anytime you need me.”
“I’m still confused,” Harry said petulantly.
Remus chuckled. “I’m sure you are, but hopefully less confused than you were,” he said.
“Maybe,” Harry admitted, smiling. “Thanks, Remus.”
Remus nodded, and broke the Silencing Charm. He nodded to Draco as he passed, heading
upstairs again.
“What was that all about?” Draco demanded, stepping into the room.
Harry smiled nervously. “Um, just me being a prat,” he said.
“You’re always a prat,” Draco said impatiently. “I want to know what’s wrong.”
Harry bit his lip, trying to figure out what to say to Draco. He certainly wasn’t about to
declare his love to him. He still hadn’t adjusted to that idea himself. He wasn’t so sure they
were ready to talk about their uncertain future, either.
“Harry,” Draco said warningly, sitting down on the couch.
“I didn’t want you to be offended by Remus comparing us to a family,” Harry said.
“Why would that offend me?” Draco asked.
“Because Victoria’s not mine,” Harry said softly. “She’s your daughter, and I don’t want you
to think I’m trying to take her away from you or something.”
Draco snorted. “Like you’d ever do something like that,” he said. “I know, and you know,
that you wouldn’t. So, what’s really the problem?”
Harry looked at him curiously. “You really don’t believe I would?”
“No,” Draco answered immediately. “Family’s too important to you.”
Harry smiled sadly. “Yeah,” he agreed. “But I’ll miss her,” he added, almost inaudibly.
“What do you mean by that?” Draco asked sharply.
“I know this is all temporary,” Harry said.
“Do you want it to be temporary?” Draco asked, eyes narrowed.
Harry lowered his head. “No,” he whispered, feeling incredibly exposed with that one little
word.
Draco was quiet for a long time and, sighing, Harry moved to stand up.
“Wait!” Draco exclaimed softly.
Harry finally risked a glance at him. “Draco, don’t worry about it,” he said. “I know things
aren’t permanent. I told you, I’m just being a prat.”
“Harry, nothing is certain right now,” Draco said.
“I know that,” Harry said agitatedly. “Nothing in my life is ever certain. Unless you count the
fact that Voldemort intends to kill me. I can rely on that,” he said sarcastically.
“You’re not going to let him kill you,” Draco said angrily.
“I didn’t say I was,” Harry retorted. “I only said that’s his intention. And I know I’m not
going to get anything permanent until he’s gone.”
“I don’t want to just be some passing fling that you toss aside for something permanent once
you defeat the bastard,” Draco snapped.
Harry paused, blinking in astonishment. “Is that what you think?” he asked.
Scowling, Draco looked away and didn’t answer. Harry suddenly realized that Draco was
probably even more scared than he was that this would all just disappear if he could ever win
the war.
“Draco, I’m not going anywhere,” he said quietly. “Everything’s happening so fast, and I’m
trying to deal with so many things, but . . . I’m not going anywhere,” he repeated.
He paused, trying to gather his thoughts and decide exactly how much he wanted to say. He
decided to take the risk. “It hit me pretty hard that I want to be a family with you. I don’t
want to lose you or Victoria, but when this war is over, you’ll have no reason to stay with me
anymore. You’ll be able to move on and find someone better.”
Draco stared intently for a minute before finally responding. “When you defeat the bastard,
you’ll be the catch of the century. I’d be a fool to get rid of you at that point,” he drawled.
Harry dropped his face into his hands, laughing at the absurdity of that. It was so like Draco,
but Harry got the message. Draco didn’t want this to end, either. Good enough for the
moment.
Dropping his hands, he grinned up at Draco, who was now smirking at him. “You’re just
looking forward to all the popcorn moments,” Harry accused.
“Of course,” Draco said haughtily. “Watching you squirm while you attempt to explain my
presence makes it all worthwhile.”
“And here I thought it was the sex that made it all worthwhile,” Harry said in mock
disappointment.
He went down laughing as Draco attacked, until Draco attempted to snog the life out of him.
“I think they’ve worked things out,” Narcissa said sarcastically.
Draco broke the kiss and lifted his head to smirk at his mother.
“Draco, you have no sense of shame or propriety,” Narcissa chided.
“Harry’s not fond of propriety,” Draco said promptly.
Harry choked, shoving Draco off of him. “Don’t you be blaming it all on me,” he said,
although he was grinning happily.
Remus shook his head in exasperated amusement. “Harry, we are already late,” he said.
Cursing, Harry snagged the trainers that Narcissa held out to him and hurriedly shoved them
on his feet. “How did you ever take care of yourself?” she asked.
“Too busy taking care of everyone else,” he muttered absently, his mind already moving to
his destination. He pounded up the stairs, returning with the red snake and his rucksack to put
it in.
Harry gave Draco a hurried kiss and was off again.
*****
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Notes

Chapter Twenty-Two
Harry and Remus were met at the Hogwarts gates.
“Harry, you’re late,” Hermione accused. “You were supposed to be here almost thirty minutes
ago.”
Before Harry could reply with some angry retort, Remus cut in smoothly. “I’m afraid I
needed to speak with Harry,” he said mildly. “My apologies.”
“Oh,” Hermione said, unwilling to push the issue in front of Remus.
Harry sent him a grateful smile when Hermione turned to march back to the castle. He soon
found himself in a room near the hospital wing with the Weasleys, Hermione, Tonks,
McGonagall and Pomfrey. Harry was incredibly grateful that Remus was there as well.
Madam Pomfrey insisted on Harry teaching them the healing spell first, and he explained
everything he knew about it. He helped everyone learn the proper technique and incantation.
“I think I’ve got it,” Ron muttered doubtfully.
Harry hesitated before sidling over to Charlie. “Do you have a knife on you?” he asked
quietly.
Charlie’s eyes narrowed as he stared hard at Harry. “Yes,” he finally answered.
“Then let me use it,” Harry said calmly. “There’s a quick, easy way for Ron to test whether
he can perform the spell or not.”
“You’re actually going to cut yourself, then let Ron point his wand at you?” Charlie asked
dubiously.
Harry grinned. “When you put it that way, it does sound more risky.”
Charlie shook his head but produced the knife anyway. Turning his back and using Charlie as
a shield, Harry made a quick slice across his forearm. Nothing deep, but something for Ron
to practice on.
“Okay, Ron,” Harry said, turning around. “Hurry up and heal this because it bloody stings.”
Harry ignored all the gasps, focusing on Ron. “Harry, what’d you do?” Ron exclaimed.
“Just hurry up and heal this,” Harry said, rolling his eyes.
Ron stepped forward and, swallowing nervously, touched his wand to Harry’s arm and
muttered the incantation. Everyone watched as the small cut healed almost instantly.
“Brilliant,” Ron breathed. “I did it.”
Frowning her disapproval of Harry’s teaching methods, Madam Pomfrey swiftly cast a
couple of cleaning charms to clean up the blood. Harry wished he knew how to do that, but
he wasn’t given a chance to ask. Hermione knew at least one spell to clean up blood, and so
did Narcissa. At some point, he was really going to have to have someone teach it to him.
“I think that is enough of that,” McGonagall said firmly.
“Fine,” Harry said. “But he knows he can do it now. And if we’re done with healing spells,
I’ve got something to show all of you.”
He retrieved his rucksack and stuck his hand inside, allowing the snake to curl around his
forearm.
“Harry, is that a snake?” Ron asked, wide-eyed as he saw the snake slithering on Harry’s arm.
“Yes, this is Gryff,” Harry said calmly, holding it up to show everyone. They wanted
answers, and this was the best he could give them at the moment. He was hoping that it
would be shocking enough to help distract from any other questions.
He grinned, seeing that he certainly had everyone’s attention.
“Where’d you get a snake?” Ron asked in disgust.
“We gave it to Harry as an early birthday present,” George said.

“Yeah, mate,” Fred agreed. “Why didn’t you bring the others?”
Harry could’ve kissed them for their cooperation. They not only gave him an excuse for
having the snakes, but also a way out of having to explain their real birthday present to him.
“You gave Harry snakes for his birthday?!” Ron shouted before Harry could answer.
“Saw them in the Magical Menagerie,” George said with a shrug. “They were bright and
colourful and we thought Harry’d like them.”
“You would like bright and unusual,” Bill said dryly.
The twins beamed brightly at their oldest brother. “Of course,” they said in unison.
There was a lot of eye rolling as attention shifted back to Harry.
“So, why did you bring a snake here?” Ginny asked curiously.
“Because I was asked why so many of the Death Eaters seemed to have problems with their
wand hands last night,” Harry said cryptically. He looked questioningly, and apologetically,
at the twins.
They nodded in resignation. “Go ahead,” George said.
“It’s not like we’re not used to being test subjects,” Fred added.
Watching the group warily, Harry hissed quietly to the snake. Fred and George were both
yelping a second later and then trying to rub the pain out of their hands.
“And I knew that was coming,” Fred grumbled good-naturedly.
“Sorry,” Harry said.
“What just happened?” Mrs. Weasley asked sternly, glaring at Harry and the twins in
disapproval.
Harry began explaining about the snakes and their magical abilities.
“Well, that’s one weapon we’re not taught in Auror training,” Tonks said cheerfully.
Harry laughed along with most of the others. He wasn’t laughing long, though, as
McGonagall decided she wanted to talk to Harry privately. Harry grudgingly went with her,
but insisted Remus come with them. Ron and Hermione wanted to come, too, but he said
he’d meet with them afterwards, much to their disappointment.
It wasn’t a pleasant visit with McGonagall. She questioned him about everything, insisting on
answers. As a result, she got a fair amount of lies and half-truths, which didn’t exactly make
Harry happy. Especially since he was bringing Remus and the twins in as accomplices.
Harry told her the twins had gotten him the ingredients, close enough, and Remus took the
credit for helping Harry with the actual brewing of the potions.
He also had to explain about Winky, as McGonagall knew she had disappeared from
Hogwarts. She wasn’t at all happy with Harry choosing to bond a house-elf to himself, but
she did promise not to say anything to anyone—particularly Hermione.
Giving up that information helped explain a lot of things, at least. Including how Harry had
been able to contact everyone so quickly after his “vision”. McGonagall seemed satisfied
with that explanation, at any rate. Harry was deeply relieved when she finally let him go.
Unfortunately, Hermione and Ron were lying in wait for him.
“Perhaps you could take it easy on him, Hermione,” Remus suggested mildly before walking
away and leaving Harry alone with his friends.
Harry was dragged unceremoniously into a nearby classroom and Silencing Charms were
erected.
“I want to know what’s going on, Harry,” Hermione demanded. “I know you’re up to
something.”
Harry snorted in amusement. “Of course I am,” he retorted.
That made her pause for a second, as she obviously hadn’t expected Harry to agree with her.
Ron was wisely sitting on a desk off to the side, trying not to get between them.
“What’s going on?” Hermione repeated. “You’re acting oddly, and even Ron and I don’t have
a clue as to what you’re doing half the time.”
“What do you want me to say, Hermione?” Harry asked, getting irritated because he didn’t
know what to tell her. “You know I have secrets that have to be kept right now.”
“Not from us,” Hermione said, sounding hurt. “We’re trying to help you.”
Harry lowered his head, feeling guilty for hurting his friends. He knew he couldn’t afford to
tell them, though. Once again, he was going to adjust the truth to suit his purposes.
“Dumbledore left me with more than just the task of the Horcruxes,” he said slowly. “He told
me I could tell the two of you, and only the two of you, about that task. I wasn’t told I could
tell you about the other things.”
“What other things?” Hermione asked quickly.
“I just told you,” Harry snapped. “I can’t tell you.” It was beside the point that Dumbledore
hadn’t even seen fit to inform Harry about Grimmauld Place and Snape. Dumbledore also
hadn’t actually assigned Harry the Malfoys, but Harry was pretty sure the old man would be
happy with how he had handled things overall.
“I think you’re beginning to sound just as vague and mysterious as Dumbledore always was,”
Ron spoke up.
Harry shrugged. “I understand better why he’d be that way now,” he admitted. “Some secrets
just have to be kept when you’re at the centre of a war.”
“Harry, do you feel like you’re . . . well, not exactly taking Dumbledore’s place, but . . . ,”
Hermione spoke hesitantly, not sure how to phrase it after all that had been said at the Order
meeting.
Harry understood what she meant. “I’m not just an icon anymore,” he said sarcastically. “I’m
actively working at being the symbol of the Light side.”
Hermione flinched at Harry’s tone, knowing he wasn’t happy with the situation. She sighed
heavily, and Harry waited tensely for her to decide whether she was going to keep pushing or
not.
“Ginny and I have your article done for you,” she said, sounding resigned, at least for the
moment.
Harry smiled gratefully in relief and accepted the parchment she handed him.
“You’re not off the hook, Harry,” she warned. “I just think that while we have you here, we
shouldn’t be wasting our time. We need to talk about the Horcruxes.”
“Have you figured anything out?” Harry asked hopefully.
“Well, no,” Hermione admitted.
“Regulus’ middle name was Adrian,” Harry said. “It fits the initials left on that letter.”
“How’d you figure that out?” Hermione asked. “Never mind,” she said, holding her hand up
and turning thoughtful as she mused over that information.
“But Regulus was a Death Eater,” Ron said. “How could it have been him?”
“He got in too deep and wanted out,” Harry said with a shrug. “I just don’t know how he
would’ve managed to find out about the Horcruxes.”
“Maybe he didn’t actually know it was a Horcrux,” Ron suggested.
“Ron, the letter said he knew it was a Horcrux,” Hermione said impatiently.
“Oh, that’s right,” Ron said sheepishly.
Hermione rolled her eyes at him, but immediately dropped back into her thoughtful
expression. “I don’t think it’s really important that we know how he found out about the
Horcruxes,” she said slowly. “It would be more helpful if we actually knew for sure it was
him.”
“Why does it matter at all who it was?” Ron asked.
“Because then we could more easily determine what he might have done with the real
Horcrux,” Hermione answered.
“It was him,” Harry said evenly.
Hermione looked at him sharply. “You know this for sure?” she asked.
“Yes,” Harry said without elaborating.
“How?” Hermione snapped out.
“I just know it,” Harry said, his tone making it clear that he wasn’t going to say anymore
about it. “What we have to figure out now is what Regulus would have done with the locket.
It could be anywhere. I’ve been thinking about it, but so far I haven’t been able to come up
with anything.”
Hermione opened her mouth to argue with Harry, but then she closed it again without
questioning him. They lapsed into a long silence as they pondered the problem.
“Grimmauld Place,” Hermione breathed.
“What?” Ron said in confusion. “I thought we were trying to figure out what Regulus
would’ve done with the Horcrux.”
“We were. We are,” Hermione said impatiently. “He still lived at home with his parents,
didn’t he?”
“Yes,” Harry answered. He wasn’t sure that Regulus had gone there, though, as Narcissa had
said he’d shown up on her front lawn. He’d thought about searching Grimmauld Place, but it
just didn’t seem likely that the locket would be there.
“So, see, Grimmauld Place makes sense as a good hiding place,” Hermione said excitedly.
“There was so much junk in that place that it could easily be overlooked.”
“Hermione, we threw all that old junk away,” Ron said.
“Not all of it,” Hermione said impatiently. “I remember a locket in the drawing room – when
we were cleaning. I’ve only heard Slytherin’s locket described and I’ve never thought about it
in connection with Grimmauld Place before, but I remember it now.”
Harry looked at her sceptically. “Hermione, Regulus died a long time ago, which means the
locket would’ve had to have been there for years. Dumbledore was in Grimmauld Place a lot.
Surely he would’ve noticed a locket if there was one there.”
“But Dumbledore didn’t know Regulus, or anyone, had discovered the locket,” Hermione
said earnestly. “What reason would he have had to look for it at Grimmauld Place? Besides,
how much time did he actually spend in any part of the house aside from the kitchen?”
Harry shrugged one shoulder half-heartedly. “Probably not much,” he admitted.
“Exactly. We were the ones who did all the cleaning and Dumbledore was never around for
any of that,” Hermione said.
Harry and Ron exchanged sceptical glances and Hermione glared at them irritably.
“Just try to remember,” she snapped. “We were all cleaning out that large glass cabinet and
on one of the shelves was a locket. Some of us tried to open it, but couldn’t, and Sirius ended
up tossing it into the rubbish sack without a second glance.”
Harry and Ron furrowed their brows as they tried to remember. There had been all kinds of
odd, creepy things. Harry could picture George wrapping his hand carefully before rescuing
the Wartcap powder from the rubbish sack.
Suddenly, Harry could picture the locket. He closed his eyes tight, trying to bring up the
picture clearer in his mind. It was the same, he was sure of it. “It was there,” he said
excitedly. “It was at Grimmauld Place.” His face fell. “It was at Grimmauld Place,” he said
flatly.
“Sirius threw everything away,” Ron said dejectedly.
“Not everything,” Hermione insisted. “Don’t you two remember? Kreacher kept rescuing
things from the rubbish sack. What if the locket was one of the things he rescued?”
Harry’s eyes widened. “Kreacher!” he called.
Kreacher popped sulkily in front of Harry. “Master called?” he said resentfully.
Harry ignored Kreacher’s attitude and quickly explained what they were looking for. They
were all dismayed to hear Kreacher gleefully explain that he’d rescued the locket, but had
taken it to Lucius the night of the Ministry fiasco.
“Fuck!” Harry cursed angrily after dismissing Kreacher.
“I reckon we at least know it wasn’t thrown away,” Hermione said miserably. “And we do
have at least some idea of where it’s at now.”
“Malfoys,” Ron spat furiously. “It figures they’d be involved. They were the ones who gave
the diary to Ginny.”
Harry was angry, but not for quite the same reasons. He didn’t think Narcissa or Draco knew
about the Horcruxes, or they would’ve told him. He hoped so, anyway. He was going to have
to question them, but he had the terrible suspicion that Lucius was the one who had the
answer, and Lucius was in Azkaban.
“Fuck!” Harry cursed again, kicking at one of the desks angrily.
“Harry, stop it!” Hermione snapped, looking at Harry anxiously. She always seemed to get a
bit nervous when he was angry.
“What are we going to do?” Ron asked. “It’s not like we can just walk into Malfoy Manor
and start searching it.”
Hermione’s eyes widened and her gaze shot to Harry worriedly.
“Don’t worry, I’m not planning on it,” Harry sneered. Ron and Hermione didn’t even know
the place was crawling with Death Eaters, and possibly Voldemort himself, and they were
still panicked at the idea.
Hermione looked relieved, but still irritated with Harry’s tone. “I don’t know what we’re
going to do,” she admitted.
Harry knew what he was going to do. He needed to confront the Malfoys. He’d thought of
something else, though, with Ron mentioning the diary. And now seemed like a good time to
change the subject.
“Hermione, have you thought about how we can destroy the Horcruxes once we’ve found
them?” he asked.
“Nothing definite,” she said with a sigh. “I would feel better if Dumbledore had told you how
he destroyed the ring. It’s like he just wanted you to find them, but then not destroy them.
Why didn’t he tell you what to do next?” she asked, bemoaning the lack of information.
“I destroyed one as well,” Harry said thoughtfully. “I destroyed the diary.” He cocked his
head at Hermione. “I’ve been wondering, could you research Basilisks and their venom?”
Hermione frowned. “I could, but where in the world would you find another Basilisk?”
“Why do I need to find another one, when I know where the first one is at?” he asked.
“That’s been years, Harry,” Hermione said. “It’s not going to do you any good now.”
“Just research, please,” Harry asked, sending her puppy dog eyes.
“All right, I will, but I’m not sure it’ll do any good,” she warned.
“Call it a hunch,” Harry said, shrugging.
Why did Voldemort want Hogwarts so badly? He didn’t ask the question aloud, but rather,
allowed it to reverberate through his skull. There was something there, he was sure of it.
“You’re not thinking of going back down there, are you, mate?” Ron asked, interrupting
Harry’s thoughts.
“Not right now,” Harry answered absently. “I need to talk to Ginny first.”
“You’re not taking Ginny down there,” Ron said stubbornly. “She was terrified. I’ll go with
you.”
“She knows more about the Chamber, though,” Harry said quietly.
“Harry, it couldn’t be good to remind her of those memories,” Hermione said worriedly.
Harry didn’t answer. He really didn’t want to argue with them anymore.
“So, all we’ve got is a trip down to the Chamber to research a possible way of destroying
Horcruxes that we don’t even have?” Ron clarified.
Harry snorted. “Sounds hopeless when you put it that way.”
Hermione’s eyes narrowed. “Are you seeing something more in all this that we’re not?” she
asked suspiciously.
Harry shrugged noncommittally.
“Harry,” she said warningly.
“All I’ve got are vague ideas and suspicions at this point,” Harry said, trying to stay calm. “I
have nothing concrete to tell you.”
“If you don’t tell us, then we can’t help,” Hermione said.
Harry glared at her, quickly losing his hold on his temper. “I’ve already said I need to talk to
Ginny and you both are shooting it down, saying I shouldn’t do it,” he said. He snapped his
mouth shut before he said anything else.
Hermione and Ron seemed to guess his thoughts, though, as both of them looked stricken.
He’d been trying to warn them about Malfoy almost the entire year, but they had written it all
off. There were reasons Harry wasn’t letting them in on all his secrets. It had a lot more to do
with their lack of faith in him, than it did a lack of trust on his part.
Harry ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’ve got to go,” he said abruptly.
“Harry, stay,” Hermione said pleadingly. “We’ll figure out some solution to this.”
He turned back to her, already halfway to the door. “I know you want to help, and you are
helping. You’re just going to have to trust me with the rest of it,” he said, before walking out
of the room.
He was a little surprised to find Remus waiting for him.
“Didn’t go well?” Remus asked sympathetically after taking one look at Harry’s dark
expression.
“They’re not happy with me, but we did generate some new information,” Harry said. His
pace quickened as he thought about the Horcruxes again. He really needed to talk to Draco
and Narcissa.
“Harry, where are you going in such a hurry?” Remus asked, sounding amused. “I didn’t
think you’d be that anxious to go to your next destination.”
Harry stilled, looking back at Remus, before it dawned on him. He still had to deal with
Snape.
Remus frowned. “I assumed that’s where you were going,” he said.
“Not until seven,” Harry said.
“Then you have just enough time to eat,” Remus said firmly. “We’ll go to the kitchens.”
“But Remus,” Harry protested. “I need –” He cut himself off. He couldn’t talk about what he
needed to do.
“Can whatever it is, wait a little longer?” Remus asked. “You have yet to eat properly today.”
“I reckon it can wait,” Harry said reluctantly.
He followed Remus to the kitchens and allowed Dobby and the other house-elves to heap
food on them. Deciding he was ravenous, Harry ate heartily.
“So, are you planning on following me everywhere now?” he asked conversationally between
bites.
Remus chuckled. “I would if I thought it would do any good, but I had no other plans for
today anyway.”
Almost out of habit, Harry erected a Silencing Charm around them. “You know I can’t take
you to Grimmauld Place?”
“I am aware of that,” Remus said evenly. He hesitated. “I wish for you to deliver a letter to
Severus, though.”
“Ah, Remus, why would you have me do that?” Harry complained. “I already have to try to
tell him about the Malfoys.”
“What better time than when he’s already irritated with you,” Remus said in mild amusement.
Harry glared at him. “Irritated? He’s always irritated with me. He’s going to be furious about
this,” he said.
“Are you getting along with him no better at all?” Remus questioned.
“Better,” Harry said sarcastically. “But better than what we were still leaves an awful lot of
room for improvement.”
He shook his head at Remus’ sympathetic gaze. “It doesn’t matter. We are getting along
better. I’m just not looking forward to telling him about you or the Malfoys.”
*****
Harry warily let himself into Grimmauld Place a short time later, knowing he was a few
minutes late, and not knowing what to expect. He found Snape in the kitchen, calmly sipping
a cup of tea and reading a book, which was set aside as Harry entered.
“Do you even know what it means to be on time, Potter?” Snape asked curiously.
Harry snorted in amusement, relaxing. “I’m being pulled in all different directions and being
questioned at every turn. I’m lucky anyone allows me to go anywhere, let alone let me go so I
can get there on time.”
Giving himself something to do, Harry found a cup and poured himself some tea before
sitting down across from Snape. “You look better,” he said carefully.
Snape nodded curtly. “I believe I owe you a thank you,” he said stiffly.
Harry shrugged uncomfortably. “You would’ve done the same thing for me,” he said.
Snape made no further comment about it, instead changing the subject to the events of the
night before. He started to question Harry about the battle and Harry answered, conveniently
leaving out any mention of Draco.
He was a little surprised, but grateful, when Snape didn’t react badly to Harry using the
healing spell and having to teach the others. It was another one of those things that Snape
seemed to have anticipated.
Things were really going quite well until Snape slammed his cup down on the table in
frustration. “The Dark Lord wouldn’t have even gone for Hogsmeade last night if it weren’t
for the Malfoys,” he bit out angrily.
It was time. Whether Harry wanted to do it or not, it was finally time to tell Snape.
“Voldemort would’ve attacked Hogsmeade at some point regardless,” Harry said flatly.
“You’re just angry and worried because you’ve been unable to find them.”
Snape glared at him. “You know nothing about me or the Malfoys,” he sneered.
Harry shrugged, feeling oddly calm now that the moment was finally at hand. If he were
honest with himself, he was actually feeling relieved.
“I know you’ve been searching for them since they disappeared five days ago and I know
where they’re at,” he said.
Snape blinked in astonishment before regaining his composure. “You know where the
Malfoys are?” he asked in a dangerously low tone.
“Yes,” Harry said, undaunted by Snape’s tone and the death glare being directed at him.
“Potter, I had just begun to think that you might actually have a brain in that head of yours,”
Snape said.
“They’re on our side now,” Harry retorted. “They needed a safe place to go, so I gave them
one. What’d you expect me to do?”
“Malfoys do not switch sides,” Snape sneered viciously. “You’ve simply placed yourself
directly in the middle of more danger.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m not in danger from them,” he said. “Narcissa fusses over me every
time I go out, worrying about if I’m going to get hurt. And Draco, well, Draco fusses over
me, too, in his own way.”
Snape stared at him blankly. Harry felt very satisfied to have stunned the man for once.
“The Malfoys. Fuss. Over you.”
“Yes,” Harry said calmly, enjoying this immensely.
Snape shook his head slightly. “Take me to them. Now,” he demanded.
“Don’t you want me to explain any of it first?” Harry asked.
“Oh, you will be explaining,” Snape said. “But we need to remove the danger first.”
“They’re not dangerous,” Harry said in exasperation.
“Now!” Snape commanded.
Harry exhaled heavily. “Fine,” he snapped. “Meet me in the alleyway behind the Dursley’s
house.”
“They’re at the Dursleys?” Snape exclaimed, seemingly unable to help himself. “A Muggle
residence?”
Harry shrugged. “Yes. I haven’t been able to bring them here yet, and no one is looking for
them there.”
Snape opened his mouth and then closed it again with an audible clack. He spun on his heel
without another word and stalked out of the room.
Sighing, Harry followed in the wake of the billowing robes, hoping he’d made the right
decision.
*****
Snape’s eyes were narrowed into thin slits as he listened to Harry mutter the incantations that
would allow Snape past the wards on the Dursley’s property. “Draco taught me,” Harry said
quietly in answer to the unspoken question as he led the man to the house.
“Not now,” Harry said sharply to his aunt as she popped her head into the entranceway. Her
eyes widened as she saw Snape and she quickly disappeared again. Harry reckoned it was a
good thing that Uncle Vernon was busy watching the telly that was blaring loudly.
Harry walked up the stairs with Snape following him, but paused before opening the door to
his room. “Give me just a minute to get Draco’s wand away from him. I don’t need him
getting anybody hurt,” he whispered.
Snape narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but nodded curtly.
“It’s about time you got back, Harry,” Draco said as Harry opened the door.
“Did you miss me?” Harry said dryly as he stepped into the room. He deliberately left the
door open a crack. Even if Draco or Narcissa noticed, it wouldn’t matter in a minute anyway.
“I never know what kind of trouble you get into while you’re gone,” Draco drawled.
“Did you have any trouble today, Harry?” Narcissa asked.
“Um, just a bit,” Harry said. “But I think it’ll be okay.” He had walked over to the bed and he
leaned down to give Draco a quick kiss. He pulled away, with Draco’s wand in hand.
“Hey,” Draco protested. “What are you doing with my wand?”
“Just trying to keep you from doing anything stupid,” Harry said, as he took two quick steps
and snatched Narcissa’s wand off the nightstand by her bed.
“Harry?” Narcissa questioned, alarmed by his actions.
“It’s okay,” Harry said hurriedly. “I promise you’re safe. I just took your wands to keep
everyone safe.”
“What the fuck are you up to now, Potter,” Draco snapped.
Harry took a deep breath. “You can come in now,” he called.
Draco and Narcissa whipped their heads around to stare at the door, and watched as Snape
stepped into the room.
Harry looked at Draco and watched as he turned white.
“Draco, it’s all right,” he said hurriedly.
“Potter, he’s a fucking Death Eater!” Draco exclaimed, keeping his eyes on Snape. “Out of
how many times I’ve told you this, I thought you’d finally understood that.”
“So are you and your mum,” Harry pointed out. “I didn’t think my room had enough Death
Eaters, so I thought I’d invite another one home,” he added sarcastically.
Narcissa was staring at Snape fearfully, while Snape was watching Harry and Draco
curiously. Harry noticed, but he was too busy arguing with Draco to deal with either of them
yet.
“Give me my wand, Potter,” Draco hissed.

“No,” Harry said firmly. “Not until I can be sure you won’t hex him.”
Draco’s gaze finally slid to Harry. “Are you protecting Snape?” he asked incredulously.
Harry’s face twisted. “Um, I don’t really think he needs protecting,” he said. “I’m more
protecting the rest of us. It wouldn’t be good if you decided to try duelling your godfather in
here.”
Narcissa seemed to come out of her shock a bit. “Severus, you may sit down if you wish,”
she said graciously, indicating the other chair. “They should be done arguing within just a
minute or two, then we’ll be able to sort out what exactly is going on.”
Snape lifted a brow, but chose to accept the chair and sat down across from her.
“Mother!” Draco exclaimed. “How could you invite him to sit down?”
“He has come here as Harry’s guest,” Narcissa said calmly, despite her tight expression. “I
presume Harry has a good reason, and so I will trust his judgment.”
Draco’s jaw dropped, and then he turned to Harry again. “What the fuck did you do to my
mother?” he asked furiously.
Harry rolled his eyes. “I didn’t do anything to her and you know it,” he said. “She just seems
to have those weird manners things, even in odd situations. You know, manners—what
you’re always accusing me of not having.”
Draco was becoming more and more agitated, and Harry was beginning to actually worry.
“Draco, just calm down so I can explain,” he said pleadingly.
“I don’t want to calm down!” Draco shouted. “You brought Snape here. He wants to kill you,
you dumb bastard!”
“He does not,” Harry retorted. “And if you’d let me explain, then you’d know that.”
“He’s put you under some spell,” Draco said. “He’s done something. You know he’s capable
of it.”
Harry hissed quietly and Draco suddenly yelped before trying to shake the pain out of his
hand.
“I hate it when you do that,” Draco said, eyes narrowed.
“Then quit,” Harry snapped. “You’re getting hysterical.”
“I’m not hysterical,” Draco said haughtily.
Harry shot a glance at Narcissa and she nodded. Harry tossed her the wands he was still
holding and then stepped over to Draco, toe-to-toe. “Do you trust me?” he asked quietly.
Draco glared for a few more seconds before relenting and giving Harry a quick, hard kiss.
“Yes,” he hissed, stepping back. “But I still hate you.”
Harry grinned. “Fine, now sit down with me and listen to your godfather,” he said.
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Potter,” Draco muttered. He sat down stiffly on the
edge of Harry’s bed. Harry sprawled out comfortably, resting against the headboard.
“That was enlightening . . . disturbing, but enlightening,” Snape sneered.
“I could’ve warned you,” Harry retorted. “But you were no more in a mood to listen to
explanations than Draco.”
“You had best start explaining now, Potter,” Snape ordered coldly.
Harry shrugged. “There are reasons why I haven’t explained anything before. How much do
you want me to explain?” he asked.
Snape flicked his gaze between Draco and Narcissa. “What have you told them?” he snapped
the question at Harry.
“They know nothing at this point,” Harry said.
“Nothing?” Snape asked, raising a brow questioningly.
“Nothing about you,” Harry clarified. “Although, they have guessed that you’ve been
worrying yourself sick over them,” he added. He grinned as Snape scowled. Harry shrugged,
unrepentant.
No one seemed quite willing to talk, so Harry continued. “Look, all three of you are on the
same side—the side that doesn’t want Voldemort to win. Now, considering you three actually
like each other and are essentially family, it should be a hell of a lot easier on everybody now
that you know that. I’m a bit out of this family loop, but it would sure as hell make my life a
whole lot easier. I’ve got enough secrets going around, and I’m terribly tired of trying to be
the go-between for you lot.”
He paused and glanced around the overcrowded room. “Besides, if you three could figure out
that you can actually trust each other, then those of us who’ve been living in this room could
finally move out. Oddly enough, I’m already getting quite sick of sleeping with my boyfriend
while his mother is in the room,” he said.
Draco snorted in amusement as Narcissa laughed lightly. Snape managed to look bemused
and disgusted by that piece of information.
“I am unsure if I wish to know how this situation has come about,” Snape said.
Harry shrugged. “Not sure myself, really, so I couldn’t explain,” he said. He looked to Draco.
“Although, it can be explained how we’ve come to be existing together in the first place.” He
nudged the other boy. “Prove you have manners and make some introductions.”
Draco glared at him. “She’s sleeping,” he snapped.
“Who’s sleeping?” Snape questioned suspiciously.
“Relax,” Harry said to Snape, rolling his eyes. “Just go look in the cot.”
Snape glared, but followed Harry’s suggestion. Narcissa stood as well and they stared down
into the cot. “Severus, meet Victoria Analissa Malfoy. She is Draco’s daughter,” she said
softly.
*****
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Notes

Chapter Twenty-Three
Snape stared for several long moments at the sleeping baby, then turned to face Draco and
Harry. “Draco, she is your daughter?” he questioned sharply.
“Yes,” Draco answered proudly.
Snape’s eyes narrowed as he pinned his gaze on Harry. “You told me that the child was yours.
That her name was Victoria Potter,” he said coldly.
Harry shrugged carelessly. “I’ve got legal paperwork that says that’s her name,” he said. “I
never actually said she was mine, though.”
“That is what you informed me of, Potter,” Snape said dangerously.
“No, I didn’t,” Harry disagreed. “You asked me if she was an illegitimate child and I agreed. I
just didn’t correct your assumption that she was my illegitimate child.”
Snape frowned and gazed back into the cot. “She is a Malfoy child,” he murmured.
“Yes, Severus,” Narcissa said gently. “And she is the main reason why we are here.” She
encouraged Severus to sit down again as she continued, taking her own seat. “Draco was
unaware he had a child until after returning from Hogwarts. When he became aware she was
in danger, he was able to rescue her.”
“That night,” Snape said slowly in understanding. “That raid, and you volunteered to go,” he
said to Draco.
Draco nodded. “I couldn’t do anything to save the rest of her family, but I was able to get
Victoria out of there.”
“And you brought her to Potter?” Snape questioned disbelievingly.
“It was the safest place I could think of,” Draco said defensively. “What was I supposed to
do?”
Draco and Narcissa continued to explain the sequence of events that led up to that evening. A
couple of times one of them would look questioningly at Harry, but he would wave them on,
telling them it was okay to tell Snape everything. Harry was on the receiving end of a few
sharp glances from Snape as well.
They were all questioning him when it came to the events of that first battle. Harry was
getting a headache as they tried to sort out who knew what and who was where when. And
not a bit of it was new to him. He was getting rather tired of rehashing the events of the night
he’d helped Draco from opposing sides of war.
“Why does everyone always go over that night?” he asked petulantly. “First Draco, then
Narcissa, and now Snape. I was just doing what needed to be done.”
Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, lowering his head.
“He is amazing, isn’t he, Severus,” Narcissa said softly.
Snape looked up at Narcissa, then over to Harry, who was feeling extremely uncomfortable.
“Potter, I distinctly remember ordering you not to be anywhere near that battle,” Snape said
quietly.
Harry shrugged. “I had to be there in case anything went wrong,” he said.
“And you had to be there to bail out Draco’s arse,” Snape stated as a matter of fact.
Draco scowled, but Harry nodded. “He makes a lousy Death Eater,” he said.
“Indeed,” Snape said. He looked to Draco. “Do continue.”
Draco frowned, but went back to explaining everything that had been happening. Narcissa
took over parts of the story, but Harry stayed out of it as much as possible. In fact, he
sprawled out on his stomach and laid his head down on his crossed arms. The other three
were still unsure of the situation, but he wasn’t.
He was tired. He realized he should have known this would turn into another long night.
Hopefully they’d all decide they trusted each other enough so they could finally move to
Grimmauld Place. He was tired of working around the Dursleys and all of them living in this
small room. He was tired of keeping secrets between Snape and the Malfoys when he
shouldn’t have to. He was just plain tired of secrets. It was ridiculous in the sense that they
were all on the same side.
He wondered again if he still needed to keep the secret of the Horcruxes safe from Snape. He
knew it was probably best not to tell Draco and Narcissa. But Snape. Why hadn’t
Dumbledore told Snape?
If they could get this issue sorted out, then he would at least talk to the Malfoys about the
locket. He was truly hoping that one of them knew where it was. He wasn’t sure what he was
going to do if they didn’t know.
“Potter!”
“What?” Harry asked irritably.
Draco rolled his eyes. “How you manage to stay focused in a crisis, I have no idea,” he
muttered.
“This isn’t a crisis,” Harry retorted.
“Boys,” Narcissa reprimanded gently.
Harry rolled his eyes as Draco glared sullenly.
Snape lifted a brow questioningly, staring at the two boys in disbelief.
“They have an interesting relationship, do they not?” Narcissa said in amusement.
“This seems impossible,” Snape murmured quietly.
“They are growing up,” Narcissa said mildly, but the pride could be heard in her voice. “They
are becoming strong young men making difficult decisions, and choosing quite wisely, I
believe.”
Narcissa shifted her gaze from the boys to Snape. “I said earlier that Victoria was the reason
Draco and I are here,” she said. “But that is not exactly true. We are here because of Harry.”
Snape cast a brief glance at Harry, but quickly focused on Narcissa again.
“It is because of who he is and the choices he has made,” she continued softly. “He chose to
take in Victoria. He chose to wait for Draco to explain, rather than calling for the Aurors. He
chose to help Draco, knowing Draco was still on the opposing side at first. Harry’s done
many things.”
“He has forced you to choose sides because of Victoria,” Snape said, but his voice held doubt
of his own words. It was more questioning.
“No,” Narcissa said, shaking her head for emphasis. “While Harry is standing up and making
his choices, he encouraged us to do the same. In fact, he was quite forceful when he said that
we should stay with the Dark Lord if we so desired. He knew the risks we would be taking by
leaving the Dark Lord’s service and never once attempted to force our decision.”
“It would seem that Potter has done something that I have been working to figure out how to
do for years,” Snape said, surprisingly without bitterness.
Harry spoke up, refusing to let Snape think that. “No, I did nothing,” he said. “It didn’t matter
who I was. It was Victoria that made the difference.”
“She was a catalyst,” Snape said.
“I suppose,” Harry said.
Snape nodded thoughtfully.
Harry sat up and snagged his rucksack from the end of the bed where he’d dropped it, pulling
out the parchments from within. He figured he might as well give Snape Remus’ letter while
Snape was halfway calm.
“What do you have there?” Draco asked curiously.
Harry handed him the parchment Hermione had given him. “That’s my article that I’m
supposed to be going over.” Looking interested, Draco took it and began reading
immediately.
“This is a letter I was asked to give to you,” Harry said evenly, handing the rolled and sealed
parchment to Snape.
“A letter for me,” Snape said flatly.
“Remus guessed last night that I knew where you were,” Harry admitted in a rush. “Today he
asked me to give that to you.”
Snape’s eyes flashed dangerously. “You informed Lupin?” he snarled.
“He’s a nice man, Severus,” Narcissa interjected calmly.
Snape flicked his gaze to her briefly before settling his glare on Harry again. “You informed
Lupin about the Malfoys?” he questioned.
“Yes, but I had Draco’s permission,” Harry answered.
Draco snorted softly, capturing Snape’s attention.
“You didn’t give permission?” Snape asked, eyes narrowed.
Draco and Harry exchanged a glance. Draco snatched up Harry’s wand, and erected one of
their Silencing Charms. Neither of them noticed Snape surreptitiously disabling the charm.
“Are you sure it’s safe to trust Severus?” Draco asked. “It’s one thing for me and Mum to tell
him about us, as he’s always looked out for us. I don’t really think he’ll turn us over to the
Dark Lord. But telling him about Lupin puts you more at risk, doesn’t it? I don’t think you
should be telling him about any of the things you’re doing. I understand that you believe he’s
on the Light side, but I don’t understand how you can actually believe that.”
Harry tilted his head curiously. It felt a little strange for Draco to be worrying about him like
this. There was some warped role reversal with Harry trusting Snape and Draco attempting to
warn Harry to stay away from him.
“Draco, you might not appreciate this, but I feel like I can trust Snape more than you when it
comes to issues with the war,” he said slowly, tensing in preparation of the anger he was sure
that would be forthcoming.
Draco’s face tightened visibly. “You believe he’s been on your side all along, and I’ve just
switched sides,” he said stiffly.
Harry nodded, but hurried to reassure. “I do trust you. It’s just –” He looked at Draco
helplessly.
Draco gave him a grim smile, not particularly pleasant. “I know you do, Harry,” he said. “I
wouldn’t be where I was at if you didn’t.”
“Draco,” Harry said, pleading with him to understand.
“I just don’t think you should trust him. How can you trust Severus when he’s always treated
you so badly?” Draco burst out. “He’s a Death Eater and I’ve listened as he talked about any
dozen ways of being able to kill you.”
Harry simply stared at Draco pointedly, until Draco huffed impatiently. “I know that could
describe me as well,” he said irritably. “But this is Severus we’re talking about. You don’t
know him like I do. He truly is dangerous, Harry.”
“I trust him, Draco,” Harry said.
“I don’t trust anybody but you,” Draco snapped. “I don’t even trust my own mother as much
as you. It’s not safe to trust anybody.”
Harry gripped Draco’s face in his hands, bringing them almost nose-to-nose. “You trust me,
so I need you to go with this, even if you don’t trust him. This isn’t easy for me, either, but if
I had any doubts about Snape at all, I would never have told him where you were.”
“Harry,” Draco said, sounding just as pleading as Harry had been a minute before.
“Draco, I need him,” Harry said firmly. Draco’s face tightened angrily under Harry’s hands,
and he tried to pull away, but Harry wouldn’t allow it. “You are my support and I need you as
well,” he said, gazing intently into Draco’s stormy eyes. “But Snape is the most powerful ally
I’ve got in this war.”
“He killed Dumbledore,” Draco said angrily, daring to bring it up if it would help convince
Harry. “What makes you think he won’t kill you when it’s convenient for him?”
Harry’s expression darkened and he let go of Draco, but he didn’t waver when he spoke. “It
wasn’t convenient for him to kill Dumbledore,” he said coldly. “It was just something that he
unfortunately had to do. He was just a pawn in the events of that night, who obediently
fulfilled the roles he was given – by Voldemort, by your mother, and by Dumbledore himself.
He’s not even fully aware of the circumstances surrounding Dumbledore’s death. He didn’t
even really kill Dumbledore, when it comes right down to it.”
“But we both saw him,” Draco said weakly, staring at Harry with an expression that seemed
to be a mix of fear and awe.
“Appearances can be deceiving. Snape performed an act of mercy while protecting us,” Harry
said harshly. “I know what happened that night, Draco. While you were busy leading Death
Eaters into the school, I was with Dumbledore far away from the castle. I didn’t understand it
at the time, but I watched Dumbledore sacrifice his life. Gods, I didn’t just watch, I was
fucking ordered to help,” he said bitterly.
“You want to know the truth, Draco?” he asked rhetorically. “I fucking watched Dumbledore
die twice that night. He’d already forfeited his life for the cause before we ever made it back
to Hogwarts.”
He paused, glaring fiercely. “Do you want to know why I know Snape won’t kill me when
it’s convenient?”
“No, Harry,” Draco pleaded. “Just stop.”
Harry continued anyway. “Dumbledore’s death was a huge sacrifice for the Light side, but
killing me would mean the end of the Light side and the true beginning of Voldemort’s reign
over the Wizarding and Muggle worlds.”
“Snape can hate me all he wants, but he won’t kill me, no matter what the circumstances are.
He will help me vanquish Voldemort,” Harry said with cold, hard conviction.
Draco swallowed audibly, tearing his gaze away from Harry to risk a glance at Snape. Harry
turned to look at the man, and realized that Snape was staring at him in shock. A quick glance
showed Narcissa was also staring at him with a stunned expression. It registered that they’d
heard everything and he transferred his glare back to Snape.
Snape had already closed off his expression. He flicked his wand to completely cancel the
Silencing Charm Draco had cast. “I need to teach the two of you better Silencing Charms
along with my spell that will counter most Silencing Charms that people use,” he said evenly.
His words didn’t match the appraising stare he was directing at Harry.
Harry lifted his chin, turning back to Draco. “You want to bring up Dumbledore?” he said,
cold fury at the entire situation engulfing him, but leaving him surprisingly clear-headed.
“I’m understanding the infuriating old man better and better all the time. I need my allies and
it would be a hell of a lot simpler if all of you got along and trusted each other. If I wasn’t
keeping so many different allies separated, I could spend more time doing the most important
job,” he said coldly.
“I trust all three of you and I trust Remus,” he said, glaring at all of them as he stood and
walked to the door. “Deal with it.”
“Don’t run away now, Potter,” Snape sneered.
“I’m not running away,” Harry said furiously. “I’m getting out of here before I do something
I regret.”
“Calm down,” Snape ordered, warding the door with a flick of his wand.
“I’ve got new leads that need to be followed up,” Harry ground out. “I’m not going to be able
to question Draco and Narcissa like I need to tonight, so I might as well go talk to Ginny.”
“Ginny!” Draco exclaimed.
Harry’s nostrils flared as he closed his eyes and tried to regain control, not even sure when
the hell he’d lost it.
“Let. Me. Out.”
He heard Narcissa mutter a spell, and Harry snatched at the door handle, jerking the door
open and slamming it loudly behind him.
“Boy! What is the meaning of that racket?” Vernon bellowed from the sitting room as Harry
pounded down the stairs.
Gritting his teeth, Harry ignored him. He slammed out the front door before his uncle could
even make it to the entrance way.
Furious with the lot of them, and realizing he had his wand but neither one of his Invisibility
Cloaks, Harry Apparated to the twins’ flat in Diagon Alley. He bounded up the stairs and
pounded on the door.
Fred jerked the door open. “What’s wrong?” he asked immediately, glancing around the area
warily.
Harry frowned, pushing past Fred. “Nothing’s wrong except for the fact that I live with
people that irritate the fuck out of me,” he snapped.
“Ah,” Fred said, shutting the door calmly. “So, what can we do for you in the middle of this
fine night?” he asked pleasantly.
Harry actually looked at Fred and George and was momentarily distracted, wondering how
he’d managed not to notice the second Fred had opened the door. “You two are, uh, bright,”
he said.
Fred and George beamed at him, wearing neon green and neon yellow pyjamas. “Thank
you,” they chorused.
“You two can actually sleep wearing those?” Harry asked curiously. They nodded, but didn’t
get a chance to answer verbally as Harry shook his head, Fred’s earlier comment finally
registering. “Never mind. What’d you mean, ‘middle of the night’?”
“It’s almost midnight,” George said cheerfully.
“Fuck!” Harry cursed. “I reckon having you sneak me in to talk to Ginny tonight is out of the
question, then.”
With raised eyebrows, the twins exchanged a glance. Harry saw them and rolled his eyes.
“It’s not like that,” he retorted. “I just need to talk to Ginny about something and Ron and
Hermione aren’t going to let me near her.”
“Ron and Hermione? Or Malfoy?” Fred asked knowingly.
“Oh, I’m sure he’s got the wrong idea,” Harry said angrily. “But Ron and Hermione are the
real problem. They just don’t want me getting Ginny involved with anything.”
“But it’s important,” George said, making it sound like a question.
“Yes,” Harry said. “Maybe,” he qualified after a moment. He trusted the twins, but really
didn’t want to explain to them that he wanted to talk to Ginny about the Chamber of Secrets.
None of the Weasleys were overly fond of the topic.
Harry rubbed his temples, attempting to will away the pounding that had taken up in his head.
He had no idea how Dumbledore had handled all the stress, but he knew that he wasn’t
handling it nearly as well.
“All right, mate?” Fred asked, sounding concerned.
“No,” Harry admitted, sighing wearily. “Sorry I bothered you,” he said, heading for the door.
George stopped him. “Wouldn’t be sporting of us if we sent you back out in the state you’re
in,” he said.
Harry really didn’t want to go back to the Dursleys yet. “Can I have a bit of a lie down on
your couch?” he asked. “Just until this pounding in my head slows down.”
“Sure, mate,” George said easily as Fred walked over to the kitchen area.
The fury drained from his system, Harry collapsed onto one of their couches.
“Here,” said Fred, handing Harry a Pain-Relieving Potion. Harry downed it gratefully and
laid down until it could kick in properly. Wishing he didn’t have to go back and deal with the
people in his room, Harry fell asleep.
*****
Harry woke feeling groggy and wondering why the potion hadn’t stopped the pounding in his
head.
“Fancy seeing no one here,” Fred grumbled tiredly after opening the door.
Not feeling particularly alert, it wasn’t until Harry heard Draco’s voice that he understood
what was going on.
“Weasley, you need to go check on Harry,” Draco said, his voice tight. “He said he was going
to talk to your sister, but he never came back last night.”
“You think he’s cheating on you with Ginny?” Fred asked.
“No,” Draco answered, and Harry could hear the sneer in his tone overlaying his anxiety. “I
need to know if he’s there safe, or if something happened to the prat.”
“The prat is fine,” Harry muttered sarcastically.
Draco’s head was suddenly looming over the back of the couch, staring down at Harry with
relief. Relief, however, quickly morphed into irritation. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Sorry, I must’ve fallen asleep,” Harry mumbled.
“Potter, you’re going to be the death of me yet,” Draco muttered, moving around the couch
and shoving at Harry’s feet so he could sit down.
Harry put his stocking feet in Draco’s lap. Draco stared at them for a moment before he
seemed to decide that he’d allow it. He rubbed at Harry’s ankle as he looked over at him.
Fred and George dropped down on the opposite couch, looking no more awake than Harry
felt.
Harry ignored the probing gaze from Draco. “Winky,” he called.
“Yes, Master Harry,” she said, popping in beside him.
“Would you please inform Narcissa that Draco found me and that I’m fine?” he asked. “Then
bring back some breakfast for four, please.”
Harry closed his eyes after she disappeared again, wanting nothing more than to go back to
sleep.
“What time is it?” George asked sleepily.
“Daylight,” Fred answered.
“Sorry,” Harry mumbled. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“Not a problem, mate,” George said.
“For us,” Fred agreed.

Harry groaned as Draco snorted. “It’s only a problem for me,” Harry muttered. The twins
wisely decided not to comment.
“Draco, did you sleep at all?” Harry asked hesitantly.
“No,” Draco said shortly. “I was packing.”
Harry’s eyes flew open and he stared at Draco questioningly. Draco nodded.
“Well, something good came out of last night, then,” Harry said.
“Good?” Fred asked, seemingly unable to keep himself from blurting it out.
“Yes, good,” Harry said. He wasn’t sure what else to tell them, though. Draco wasn’t
forthcoming with any answers, his gaze still trained on Harry. Sighing, Harry looked over to
Fred and George. “We’re moving somewhere safer than the Dursleys.”
“I reckon that is good, then,” George said slowly. “But, uh, Harry, how are we going to reach
you?”
Harry had no idea. He could reach everyone else quickly, but no one was going to be able to
find him.
“Coins,” Draco said curtly.
“Like the DA coins?” Fred asked.
“Yeah, Draco can do the charm,” Harry said dryly.
Draco’s jaw tightened, and Harry could practically feel the tension radiating off of him.
Sliding his feet to the floor, Harry shifted until his head was lying in Draco’s lap instead.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly, gazing up at Draco from his vulnerable position.
The apology didn’t seem to help and Harry sighed heavily as Winky popped back into the
room. The twins eagerly helped her spread things out on the coffee table between the two
couches, as their dining table was currently covered in who-knew-what.
Harry made a move to sit up but Draco stopped him. “Harry, I –” he cut himself off. One
hand rested on Harry’s chest and the other carded through Harry’s hair.
“Master Harry?” Winky said, eyeing the two of them carefully as she called for his attention.
Harry turned to her, realizing she was done unloading breakfast. “What is it, Winky?” he
asked.
“Winky is to tell Master Harry ‘half past eight means at least attempt to be here on the
hour’,” she said, passing on the message verbatim.
Harry grinned, despite himself. “Return message – I have three, and one’s not going to let me
out of sight, but I’ll do my best.” He only had three people that could possibly hinder his
progress of making it back for the meeting time Snape had set.
She nodded and left them to their breakfast.
Draco arched a brow. “What the bloody hell did that mean?” he asked, knowing who the
message had to be from, but not understanding the odd messages or Harry’s reaction.
“It means I must not be in too much trouble,” Harry answered, still smiling as he sat up. Not
if Snape was teasing him about being late.
“You’re not in trouble,” Draco agreed, but he was frowning as he attempted to make sense of
the messages. “So, does that mean eight o’clock or nine o’clock?”
Harry laughed. “I have to be there at eight o’clock,” he said. “What time is it anyway –
besides daylight time?”
Fred grinned. “It’s seven o’clock now,” he said.
Harry gazed at Draco warily, even as he leaned in close to him. “Are you all right?” he asked
quietly.
Instead of answering verbally, Draco kissed him. It was harsh and punishing at first, but he
gradually eased up, running his tongue soothingly across bruised lips.
Draco finally broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against Harry’s. “I hate you, Potter,” he
said, breathing heavy.
Harry let out a breathy chuckle. “Do you need a proclamation in return?” he asked.
Draco nodded against Harry’s forehead, smirking now.
“Then, I hate you, too, Malfoy,” Harry said.
Fred and George let out loud, dramatic sighs. “Oh, how touching,” George said tearfully.
Fred wiped his own fake tears away. “Brings back memories of the good old days,” he
agreed.
Harry burst out laughing as Draco snorted in amusement. “Old days, my arse,” Draco said.
“I’ve been cursing Potter all night long.”
Harry winced, despite Draco’s light tones. “I’m sure you have been,” he said. “I am sorry for
falling asleep, you know. I just laid down to get rid of a headache. I was going to head back.”
“Another headache?” Draco asked, frowning again.
“It’s just stress,” Harry said dismissively, finally digging into his breakfast.
“Just stress,” Draco muttered sarcastically, repeating Harry’s words as he pulled his own plate
towards himself.
“You know, Malfoy, you are supposed to be alleviating Harry’s stress,” Fred pointed out
helpfully.
Harry grinned, casting a sidelong glance at Draco.
“I can’t keep him in one place long enough,” Draco said dryly.
The twins and Harry laughed. They got down to the business of eating and Draco brought up
the issue of the coins again. Discussing it over breakfast, it was determined that they’d each
carry one and Draco knew how to charm them so that the messages could go both ways. It
was almost eight o’clock by the time they had four charmed coins and everyone knew how to
use them.
“It’s time to go, Harry,” Draco said.
Startled, Harry looked at the time and groaned. “Okay, hold on,” he said. He looked to the
twins. “Do you think you could get Ginny away for me somehow?” he asked.
“For how long?” Fred asked.
“It’s not an easy task with Mum right now,” George said.
“I know,” Harry said, staring unseeingly at the floor and frowning as he thought about it. “I
don’t really want to rouse Ron or Hermione’s suspicions, either. It depends on Ginny. If she
agrees, then I’d really need a few hours alone with her.”
He looked up at the sound of the twins sniggering, realizing they were looking back and forth
between him and Draco. Turning to look at Draco, he noticed the blond was scowling.
“Harry, do you have a bloody clue what you just said?” Draco asked.
Harry’s brow furrowed as he thought about it. As it dawned on him what his words had
sounded like, his expression turned sheepish. “It’s not like that,” he retorted. “I just think she
might have some key information that I need.”
“It’s a damned good thing for you that I trust you,” Draco said.
“I know,” Harry said gratefully. “Otherwise my life would be far more unpleasant.”
He turned back to Fred and George. “So, do you think you can get her away for me?”
Fred flipped his coin in the air as he answered, “We’ll see what we can do and let you know.”
“Thanks,” Harry said, heading for the door.
“Harry,” Draco called, stopping him.
“What?” Harry asked.
“We moved,” Draco said simply.

Harry blinked in surprise. “You said you packed,” he said slowly.
“I did,” Draco agreed. “Then, I moved everything.”
Harry opened his mouth to speak, then glancing over at the twins, he thought better of it.
“Okay,” he said instead. “I reckon I only have one thing left to pack then.”
Draco frowned. “The room is empty,” he said.
Harry smiled sadly. “One thing was hidden,” he said quietly. “It’ll only take me a minute to
retrieve and you can come with me if you like,” he offered.
Draco nodded as he slipped the cloak on. Harry yelled his thanks to the twins again as they
left.
Walking into the Dursley’s house a couple minutes later, he felt a little odd. He knew this was
very likely his last time coming to this house. He felt almost bad that Petunia wasn’t there,
most likely off on one of her shopping runs. She’d often made herself scarce over the last
month, but she’d actually been helpful this summer. More helpful than she’d ever been in the
past, at least, which surely counted for something. He realized he was actually going to miss
her, just a little. He wasn’t going to miss Vernon or Dudley, though.
Shoving aside the conflicting emotions to examine later, Harry headed up the stairs a final
time. The room looked empty again. Sadly, it looked like Harry’s normal room once more.
He had hated this room, but this last month he’d actually enjoyed the close quarters far more
than he’d realized.
He was thankful Draco remained silent, simply watching Harry closely. Harry dropped to his
knees and pulled up the loose floor board. He found more than he’d expected, though. He
stared down into the small space in shock for long moments before he carefully pulled the
items out and fell back on his arse as he stared at them.
“Harry?” Draco said in concern, crouching down beside him.
Harry shook his head, unable to answer. He set aside his own photo album, focusing on the
second album he’d found. One that shouldn’t have been there. He hesitated, but slowly
opened it. It was a picture of his mum. It was a Muggle picture, but she looked so much like
she did when Harry had seen her in Snape’s Pensieve. Surely it must have been taken during
her summer holidays that year.
He could feel his eyes beginning to burn. He couldn’t do this now. He gently closed the
album again, not daring to look at any of the other pages. He knew he was going to fall apart
if he did.
He looked back to the small space under the floorboard. The space he’d thought was hidden
all this time. “She knew,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Aunt Petunia knew where my hiding
spot was. I hid my album there this year. I didn’t need to hide anything for once, but I still hid
that. I tucked it away so it would be safe.”
He cleared his throat. “Aunt Petunia knew I’d be back,” he whispered. He looked down at the
album he was clutching, his knuckles white with the tight grip he had on it. Aunt Petunia had
left it for him, knowing he’d be back to get it. Harry was trying to wrap his mind around that,
but was struggling.
“I’ve got to go,” he said abruptly. He shoved the floorboard in place, checking to make sure
there was nothing else inside. Clutching both albums to his chest, he finally looked at Draco.
“Let’s go,” Draco said evenly.
Harry nodded, extremely grateful for Draco’s quiet acceptance. He simply couldn’t deal with
this right now. And not here. Remembering the spell Snape had used to shrink all the books,
Harry carefully shrunk the albums and tucked them away in the Invisibility Cloak. Draco said
nothing when Harry handed the cloak back to him.
It wasn’t until after they’d Apparated away that Harry felt like he could breathe normally
again. It also wasn’t until they were actually approaching Grimmauld Place that he realized
he still didn’t have a clue as to what to expect once he got there.
Pausing outside the door, he took a deep breath to fortify himself and squared his shoulders.
He stepped inside, heading directly for the kitchen as usual. He was shocked to find Remus
there, along with Snape and Narcissa.
“Good morning, Harry, Draco,” Remus said, smiling. Narcissa’s smile was welcoming and
relieved as well.
“Half past eight, right on time,” Snape said sarcastically.
Blinking, Harry looked to the clock. Snape was right. Shaking his head to clear it, he was
aware of Draco watching him closely and Snape eyeing them both suspiciously.
“Morning,” he greeted. “I had a couple of tasks to take care of this morning, and the second
took longer than expected,” he said, moving to pour himself and Draco cups of tea, pausing
on the way to kiss Narcissa on the cheek like Draco always did. It had become a habit for him
as well. He was always worrying her and she seemed to find it reassuring.
Snape wordlessly held his cup out to Harry. He took it without question and poured the man a
new cup, fixing it the way he liked before handing it back. Remus and Narcissa both looked
mildly surprised, shaking their heads when Harry asked if they would like more.
Harry sat down in his usual spot across from Snape without thinking about it, and Draco
looked at him curiously. Draco was sitting next to Narcissa, across the table. Harry shrugged
and looked to Snape. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?” he asked, breaking the silence.
Snape snorted derisively. “I am under the impression that I need to be asking you that
question,” he said dryly.
*****
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Notes

Chapter Twenty-Four
Harry rubbed his temples absently. The tension was thick in the room. He had no idea how
Remus had ended up at Grimmauld Place, but he was afraid to ask. Everyone was being extra
quiet and cautious, and Harry wasn’t sure if it was because of Snape or if it was because of
him. He wasn’t sure if he dared to bring up anything about the night before. Snape had
obviously allowed the others access to Grimmauld Place, which was a good thing, but Harry
had no idea how happy he was about it. With the exception of maybe Remus, everyone was
tired and out of sorts.
“I would like some explanations, Potter,” Snape said silkily, interrupting his musings. “No
one appears to have a full understanding of what you have been up to.”
Harry met his gaze steadily. “Honestly? No one will. Not until this is all over,” he said. “I
can’t afford for everyone to know everything. There’s too much at stake.”
Snape nodded once in acknowledgement. “I understand that. However, I have a far better
understanding of the Dark Lord’s plans than I do yours. After the events of this last night, it
has come to my attention that you have far more plans in action than I was aware of.”
He eyed Harry calculatingly. “You, Mr. Potter, have been taking a far more active role than I
had believed you capable of. You have been delegating tasks and intelligence, while taking
on far more than you should be able to,” he said.
“In other words, you thought I was just following your orders, and Dumbledore’s orders,
blindly,” Harry said sarcastically.
“Yes,” Snape said bluntly. “There have been a few things that have caused me to question
your actions, but with all I’ve learned this last night, there is obviously far more going on
than I’ve realized.”
Harry realized Snape wasn’t actually asking for specifics. At least, not in regards to the task
Dumbledore had assigned him. He wanted to know Harry’s general plans and what the hell
Harry had been up to without him knowing about it. Harry thought he’d find that a whole lot
easier to answer if he knew himself.
“I’ve had to shift a lot of my priorities,” he began, speaking slowly. “When I left Hogwarts,
my only real task was the one that Dumbledore gave me. I didn’t plan to get involved with
everything else, but then Draco showed up with Victoria and you showed up here.”
He quietly explained how everything had changed. For the group that was there – Snape,
Draco, Narcissa, and Remus – he finally explained all of it. Everything that he had been
doing. Individually, they each knew bits and pieces, but not a one had known about
everything. The only thing he left out was the task of finding and destroying the Horcruxes,
but he even mentioned that indirectly.
“What now?” Draco asked.
“I keep doing what I’ve been doing,” Harry answered quietly. “Any information Snape can
bring back, I take it to the Order. I try to keep Scrimgeour and the public under control,
providing hope,” he said sarcastically. “I train with Snape and Remus – defence and offence –
light and dark – anything that’ll help me in battle. I help the Order in any way I possibly can,
including providing more potions. I continue working to keep Voldemort from gaining too
much control over the Wizarding world, while I work on the means to actually defeat him.”
He paused thoughtfully. “I’ve got a home base here now, that’ll make things a lot easier. I’ve
got allies and developed resources, and I intend to use them.”
“The means to defeat him?” Snape questioned, paraphrasing Harry’s words.
“I haven’t had much time to concentrate on that problem, with everything else that’s been
going on,” Harry admitted. “But I’ve got some leads now that I didn’t have before. Hopefully
I’ll be able to talk to Ginny later today.”
“You also need to talk with Draco and Narcissa,” Snape stated.
Harry nodded warily, knowing that was not going to be an easy discussion. And Snape
seemed to have decided that he should talk to them now.
“What can we help you with, Harry?” Narcissa asked gently.

Harry eyed Draco, not knowing how he was going to react. His father was often a rather
volatile subject. He was suddenly grateful Draco was sitting on the other side of the table.
“It’s about Lucius,” Harry said abruptly, and watched as Draco tensed and his expression
hardened.
“What about him?” Narcissa asked calmly.
Knowing it wasn’t going to get any easier, Harry forged ahead, focusing on Narcissa instead
of Draco. “Before everything happened at the Department of Mysteries, Kreacher took a
locket to Lucius. Do you know where it is?”
Narcissa didn’t look happy with the subject, but she wasn’t taking offence. She gazed at
Harry sadly. “Harry, at the time, my mind was focused on . . .,” she trailed off uncertainly.
Remus made a noise, and Harry glared at him warningly, before turning back to Narcissa. “I
know. You were focused on my weak links and betraying Sirius,” he said impatiently. “I need
to know about the bloody locket.”
She blinked once in surprise before frowning thoughtfully as she tried to remember.
“Kreacher came to me first. When I was . . . finished with him, he blathered something about
a gift for Lucius. Things were a little hectic, but I did ask Lucius about the alleged gift. As
you can never be quite certain of anything in regards to Kreacher.”
Harry nodded, knowing how true that was. “What did Lucius say about it?” he asked.
“Harry,” she said his name hesitantly. “He didn’t even tell me what it was. Only that it would
please the Dark Lord greatly if he chose to give it to him.”
“He didn’t give it to Voldemort, did he?” Harry asked in alarm. For whatever reason, the
thought that Voldemort could actually have it back had not crossed his mind.
“No,” Narcissa answered immediately, shaking her head. “He said we would discuss it the
next day. He put it in his personal vault for safe-keeping.”
“Vault?” Harry questioned. “His Gringott’s vault?”
Draco and Narcissa exchanged a glance before she answered. “No. The Malfoys are an
extremely old family. There is a hidden vault at the manor that only the head of the family
has access to. Designated heirs are keyed into the wards and spells, so that upon the death of
the current head, the next in line will then have access,” she explained.
Harry was confused, but was afraid he understood the general idea of the situation. “Lucius is
the only one who can access this vault where the locket is at. Draco would have access when
his father dies,” he said.
Narcissa flinched and Draco glared, but they both nodded.
“Fuck!” Harry cursed. “So, I’ve got to figure out how to get to Lucius now.”
“You’re not killing my father!” Draco shouted angrily.
“Who said anything about killing him?” Harry retorted. “I need the bloody bastard to get the
locket for me.”
That gave Draco pause and Harry sneered at him.
“Just how do you plan to get Lucius out of Azkaban, let alone get him to cooperate with
you?” Snape interjected smoothly.
“I don’t have a bloody clue,” Harry snapped. “I had hoped to avoid this.”
“You’re serious about attempting to free my father?” Draco asked incredulously.
“What choice do I have?” Harry asked. “I have to get that locket. If I have to go through
Lucius to get it, then that’s what I’ll do.”
“Does Lucius understand its importance?” Snape asked sharply.
“I don’t think so,” Harry answered. “It’s Slytherin’s locket, so Lucius surely considers it
valuable because of the whole pureblood, Slytherin pride and family heritage thing,” he said
dismissively.
He paused as he realized the others were staring at him in various degrees of shock. “And
that’s not why it’s important?” Remus asked.
“Um, no,” Harry admitted. “It’s part of it. Voldemort is Slytherin’s last heir, so he considers it
to be a very valuable item in that respect. It doesn’t have a thing to do with why I have to
have it, though.”
“You mean to destroy it,” Snape said knowingly.
“Yes,” Harry agreed, wondering if Snape knew what it actually was. Snape’s next comment
answered that question, though.
“I am no closer to understanding Dumbledore now than when he was alive,” he muttered.
Harry smiled grimly. “I would find this task a lot easier if Dumbledore had been a lot more
straight-forward about all of this,” he said.
Snape nodded in agreement. Whatever Dumbledore’s reasons for keeping the details secret,
both Harry and Snape were respecting the man’s wishes. Snape had not once asked for details
regarding Harry’s actual task. He was only attempting to help Harry as needed.
Right now, Harry needed help trying to figure out how to get Lucius out of Azkaban.
Silence had fallen over the group at the table, and Harry was hesitant to break it again. How
was he supposed to ask if Lucius was still sane in there or not?
“Is Lucius an Animagus?” he asked, deciding that was the politest way he could ask. He
didn’t expect Draco’s livid reaction.
“Yes,” Draco ground out, glaring daggers at Harry.
“Lucius’ sanity is surely intact,” Snape said, drawing Harry’s attention, and obviously
understanding why Harry had asked the question.
“There is no chance of him escaping like Sirius did, though,” Remus spoke quietly. “New
precautions were implemented after Sirius’ escape.”
“Perhaps you could get cooperation from Scrimgeour,” Narcissa suggested. “You certainly
handled him well before.”
Harry lowered his head, rubbing his temples as he thought about that possibility. “It took me
months to convince Scrimgeour to release prisoners who were innocent,” he said. “It would
not go over well if I tried to get Lucius released.”
“Potter, even the Dark Lord has been unable to determine a way to free the prisoners,” Snape
said. “I do not believe this is possible.”
“It’s not even possible to contact the prisoners in Azkaban,” Narcissa said bitterly.
“Ministry officials can get in there,” Harry said, thinking about Sirius getting the newspaper
off of Fudge. And Crouch had gotten in. His eyes widened. And Crouch had gotten out.
“Crouch,” he said aloud.
The other three looked at him blankly, but Snape sneered at him. “Impossible,” he said.
“Not impossible,” Harry corrected, latching on to his idea.
“You’d need a sacrifice, Potter,” Snape pointed out condescendingly. “Do you happen to have
someone suitable just lying around?”
Harry scowled. “Couldn’t we just replace him with one of the other Death Eaters or
something?” he asked.
“Potter, you’d need a Death Eater who you could order to cooperate,” Snape sneered.
“Imperius and any other magical forms of coercion would be detected. Do you happen to
know any Death Eaters willing to sacrifice their life for you?” he asked sarcastically.
Sacrifice their life.
“Would one owing me a life debt work?” Harry asked.
Snape blinked in astonishment. “There is a Death Eater who owes you a life debt?”
“Pettigrew,” Harry said.

“I should have known,” Snape said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“So, would he work?” Harry asked hopefully.
“Possibly,” Snape admitted. “But Potter, you don’t know what you are suggesting.”
“I know exactly what I’m suggesting,” Harry said in a cold, hard voice. “I’m talking about
walking into Azkaban, dumping off Peter Pettigrew – who should’ve been in there almost
sixteen years ago – and walking out with Lucius Malfoy. I’m talking about condemning a
man to his death. I’m talking about committing a crime that could easily get me locked up in
that place.”
His expression darkened even further as he glared at Snape. “Once I have Lucius out of there,
I’m going to blackmail the bastard. I’ll make sure he knows I have Draco and Narcissa and
refuse to let him see them until he gets me that locket.”
“You’re not the Golden Boy I’ve always thought you were,” Snape stated.
“A Golden Boy isn’t going to win against Voldemort,” Harry said coldly.
“Indeed,” Snape said with satisfaction. “I’ll need to research how we can utilize the life debt,
and then we will make further plans.”
Harry nodded in acceptance.
“I will help with whatever research you need, Severus,” Remus spoke up. “I know precisely
the events surrounding the life debt itself, if it’s any use.”
Snape gave him a curt nod.
“Lunch first,” Remus said, looking to Harry. “Why don’t you and Draco go check out your
room,” he suggested.
Harry eyed him warily, unable to believe Remus wasn’t lecturing him.
“I’m here to help, not question,” Remus said, smiling slightly. It didn’t erase the concern
from Remus’ face, but it helped reassure Harry, regardless.
“You’re not just going to turn around and question Snape instead, are you?” Harry asked
suspiciously.
“No, Harry,” Remus said, smiling wider. “I’m not.”
Draco snorted in amusement. “Harry, do you know how unbelievably bizarre it is to hear you
defending Severus?” he asked.
Laughing, Draco led a bemused Harry out of the room.
Harry walked through the house, realizing he hadn’t been paying any attention to all the work
Winky had been doing. He’d spent most of his time in the basement, where the kitchen and
the potions lab were located. He paused in the doorway of the drawing room, staring in
disbelief. The room wasn’t recognizable – with the exception of the Black family tapestry
that still hung on the wall. Amazingly, the room looked comfortable and inviting now.
Climbing the stairs two at a time, Draco following in confusion, Harry threw open the door to
his old room. Blinking in amazement, he remembered that he had actually been in this room
before. This appeared to be Snape’s room now, and he backed out again quickly.
“Where’s my room?” he asked, baffled by this turn of events.
Draco looked at him oddly. “You’re the master of this house now,” he said slowly.
“So?” Harry said blankly.
Draco huffed at him, grabbed his hand and dragged him upstairs. On the top floor, Draco
paused before a door. He looked at Harry nervously before opening it with a flourish,
stepping aside so Harry could enter first.
Wary now, Harry walked into the room. He stopped and stared at the luxuriant room. He was
sure this had been Buckbeak’s room the last time he’d seen it. The dirty place had been
transformed to something far beyond his expectations.
The room was done in shades of blue and silver, with lots of rich, soft fabrics. Harry didn’t
have a clue about such things, but the huge bedroom looked expensive. To one side was a
comfortable looking couch and a couple of chairs in front of a fireplace. A large canopied bed
took prominence in the other half of the room. There were wardrobes and shelves filled with
books and all manner of things. Paying more attention to some of the details, Harry realized
there were dragons everywhere. Small and large figurines were all over the room. Even the
couch pillows had dragons patterned on them.
“This is your room,” Harry said bemusedly, turning finally to look back at Draco, who was
still hovering near the door.
“Our room now,” Draco said, sounding uncertain.
“Well, yeah, of course we’re sharing a room,” Harry said, not concerned about that part. “But
this,” he gestured expansively, “is your room.” He gazed around the room again in
fascination. “How could your room be here?”
“Do you like it?” Draco asked softly.
“It’s incredible,” Harry said. “But how could it be here?” he asked again, stuck on that aspect
of the situation.
Draco explained how he and his mum had enlisted the house-elves to help them shrink and
pack many things in Malfoy Manor when they’d gone back that last night. At Harry’s
incredulous questioning of where they’d put it all while at the Dursleys, Draco admitted that
much of it had been packed tightly under the beds and in the closet that they’d emptied of
Dudley’s old junk.
He also described a pair of trunks that, to Harry, sounded suspiciously like Moody’s seven-
compartment trunk. Harry remembered Dumbledore using a ladder to climb into the trunk
with a room large enough to keep a person alive for months. He reckoned it wouldn’t be that
hard to pack such a great amount of items that way, especially if they’d been reduced in size
first.
Wandering the room, Harry discovered their own personal bathroom and a walk-in closet that
housed an outrageous amount of clothing. It didn’t particularly surprise him that Draco
owned that much, but seeing the proof was rather daunting to someone who simply threw on
whatever was closest in the morning.
During the night, Draco, Narcissa and Winky had worked to put this room together. Draco
didn’t say it explicitly, but Harry got the message that once the room was done, Draco hadn’t
been able to hold back his anxiety any longer and had gone to the twins’ flat to search out
Harry.
Harry felt guilty again at the reminder that Draco hadn’t gotten any sleep the night before,
worrying about Harry’s whereabouts.
“So, this is your actual bed?” Harry asked, grinning wickedly as he fell backwards onto it.
“Yes,” Draco said, smirking as he toed off his shoes before crawling onto the bed and
straddling Harry’s hips. “It’s far more comfortable than that tiny bed we’ve been sleeping in.”
“This does feel terribly nice,” Harry said slyly, shifting his hips slightly.
Draco inhaled sharply before leaning down to capture Harry’s lips hungrily. They were
engaged in a very pleasant snog fest when it registered that Remus was yelling for them to
come down for lunch. Groaning, they spent a couple minutes composing themselves before
they went back downstairs.
Snape took one look at them when they appeared and rolled his eyes. “I take it your new
room meets your approval, Potter?” he said sarcastically.
Harry blinked innocently. “I’m sure the room is quite nice, thank you for asking,” he said
pleasantly. “I’m afraid I didn’t have enough time to appreciate it all, as I was rather
preoccupied.”
Draco choked on his laughter, Snape snorted – in amusement or disgust, Harry wasn’t quite
sure – and Remus and Narcissa were shaking their heads in wry amusement.
Keeping up the innocent façade, Harry turned to Draco. “Are my manners improving, love?”
he asked.
Draco nodded, laughing too hard to answer otherwise as he collapsed into one of the chairs.
Harry laughed with him, absolutely delighted that he’d been able to make Draco laugh like
that. It felt good with all the stress they’d been under.
Lunch was surprisingly relaxed and pleasant. There was room for a feeding chair for Victoria,
and Harry fed her while he ate his own meal. He enjoyed the time chattering with her.
He learned that she’d been with Winky all morning, while Winky worked on setting up a
nursery for her. The nursery was to be on the third floor, across from Narcissa’s room. He still
didn’t know exactly how Remus had ended up there, but discovered that Remus had a room
of his own, too, on the second floor across from Snape.
He still wasn’t sure what exactly was going on between Snape and Remus, but he at least
learned that Snape had brought Remus to Grimmauld Place early that morning. Harry
reckoned whatever Remus had written in that letter must have had a powerful impact on
Snape.
Draco hadn’t been able to tell him much about what had happened after he’d stormed out the
night before. Draco had been kicked out of the room while Snape talked to his mum, and
after that he’d been ordered to start packing things up and getting it all moved to Grimmauld
Place. Whatever discussions had taken place, it had seemed to satisfy Snape enough that he
hadn’t subjected Draco and Narcissa to Veritaserum. Harry was both surprised and happy
with that fact. He hoped that it meant Snape had at least a little faith in him. He ruefully
admitted to himself that it probably meant Snape thought he could control the Malfoys.
He looked around at the group, happy despite the oddness of the situation. Something had
definitely shifted for this group of people to be so relaxed together, but it was nice. Fawkes
trilled a greeting, as if he could hear Harry’s thoughts and agreed with them. Harry grinned at
the bird, resting on his perch which had been placed in a cosy niche near the doorway. This
room was definitely the best place for him, as busy as it always seemed to be.
Harry made an extra effort to pet him and give him a little attention before heading back
upstairs after lunch. It was a little odd, he realized, that Hedwig’s cage and the snake tank
were amongst the only visible evidence of Harry’s belongings that existed in his and Draco’s
new room.
Looking around, he did finally notice his Firebolt, along with Draco’s broom, leaning up
against the wall in the corner. He assumed his clothes were in one of the wardrobes, and there
were two desks, so one had to be meant for him.
Draco’s influence could be seen all over the room, though, and Harry had to wonder if he
really belonged.
“Does it bother you to have all my things here?” Draco asked quietly, having been observing
Harry since they’d gotten back.
Harry shook his head. “This is all just really different and I’m wondering where I fit in,” he
admitted. “I don’t look like I exist here any more than I did at the Dursleys.”
“I didn’t unpack any of your personal items,” Draco said.
“Draco, I don’t have any personal items to speak of,” Harry said dryly.
“Then we’ll have to change that,” Draco retorted. “Now, come here and lay down with me.
I’m exhausted and I know you’re tired as well.”
They’d actually been sent to their room, ordered to take naps. Harry had felt like a five-year-
old, but he had to admit that some sleep sounded like a good idea. He could afford to take the
rest of the afternoon off.
Once he lay down, with Draco curled around him, he gave up on thinking all together.
Thinking was far too stressful and lying with Draco in an amazingly comfortable bed was too
wonderful to waste the time being stressed.
*****
“This article is well-written,” Remus said.
Harry shrugged. “Hermione and Ginny wrote it. I certainly wouldn’t have been able to write
it that well,” he admitted. “I’m supposed to be looking it over and making any changes before
taking it back to be published finally.”
Snape held out a hand, requesting the article. Harry continued to play with Victoria while he
waited for Snape to read it. They’d all retired to the drawing room after dinner, and Harry
thought they made an odd little group. The drawing room was cosy and comfortable, though.
Draco and Narcissa were looking over the Black family tapestry that was still on the wall and
Harry was half listening to them. Draco was getting a family history lesson in terms of who’d
been excluded from the family, and exactly why they were excluded.
“Potter, there is conspicuously not a single mention of the Death Eaters,” Snape said,
frowning at him.
“I told you before that I was doing the article my way,” Harry said dismissively.
“You honestly believe that Scrimgeour will accept this?” Snape asked.
“It’s not an assignment where he gets to mark me on the damned thing,” Harry retorted. “It’s
a bloody article that’s going to go out to Merlin knows how many people. Once it’s out, he’d
be hard pressed to deny any of it.”
Snape snorted in disgust. “He will have no need to deny any of it as you are deigning to
actually praise the Ministry in this blasted thing,” he said.
“That was the deal,” Harry said, bristling defensively. “He’s done everything that I asked, so
now I need to fulfill my end of the bargain.”
“He will not see this as fulfilling your obligations,” Snape said.
Remus spoke up quietly. “The praise of the Ministry is wonderfully understated. Harry is not
giving them complete support, but carefully concedes that the Ministry has been slowly
becoming more effective lately. I believe Scrimgeour will be pleased with it.”
“Scrimgeour will be pleased, but he wishes for vengeance, as do most wizards and witches,”
Snape sneered. “If Potter does not address the issue directly, surely Scrimgeour will once
again be looking closely into his activities. The bargain unfulfilled could mean Victoria’s
certificate being suddenly ‘found’ and made public knowledge.”
“Paranoid much?” Harry muttered.
Snape glared at him. “Potter, you are risking that child,” he said.
“I’m not!” Harry exclaimed hotly. “I’m thinking ahead! Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?
Well, I’m actually doing it for once. When Voldemort’s dead and you can come out of hiding,
what would it look like if I’m suddenly defending people that I had been declaring vengeance
against? It’s bound to make things easier later if I don’t openly declare vengeance to start
with.”
The room was suddenly silent. Even Victoria was silently chewing on one of her toys. Harry
couldn’t figure out why Snape, Draco and Narcissa appeared to be stunned.
“What?” he asked defensively. “Is it really so hard to believe that I can actually think ahead
now and then?”
Remus had been smiling and he chuckled at Harry’s last comment. It broke Snape from his
silence and he shot a glare at Remus. “This does not concern you,” he sneered.
Remus stared at him challengingly. “Doesn’t it?” he said. “I believe it does concern me, as I
will be standing right beside Harry when it comes time. You and I have already addressed
this issue, Severus.”
“And it would appear that you’ve passed on your foolishness to Potter,” Snape said in
disgust.
“I haven’t spoken to Harry about it,” Remus said in denial.
“Ah, then it is simply Gryffindor idiocy shining through in both of you,” Snape sneered.
“Severus, whether you consider it foolish or not, Harry and I will do everything in our power
to give your life back to you when this war is over,” Remus said quietly. He and Snape both
glanced at Harry. “And, yes, Harry has a lot of power to make it happen.”
“It’s not possible,” Snape said harshly.
Harry had been following the conversation closely and had caught on to Snape’s problem.
Now his eyes narrowed. “We obviously have different definitions of what’s not possible,” he
said, his voice low and hard.
“It is impossible for Harry Potter to work with Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy. It is
impossible for the Malfoys to turn against Voldemort. It is impossible for the model
Gryffindor to be able to successfully cast the Killing Curse.”
Harry matched Snape’s glare, pausing for emphasis. “It is impossible that the fate of the
Wizarding world rests in the hands of a sixteen-year-old. I live in the world of the
impossible,” he stated coldly. “As do you.”
Snape wasn’t about to relent so easily. “I will never teach at Hogwarts again, Potter,” he said,
barely controlled anger brimming in his voice. “Anything I may have gained was
permanently lost when I killed Albus Dumbledore. It is very likely that I will not even
survive this war myself.”
“Fuck you, Snape,” Harry sneered. “You’re not getting off so fucking easy.”
“You think death is easy?” Snape asked coldly.
“You’re not going to die,” Harry said angrily. “You’re going to help me wipe the evil bastard
out of existence and then we’re all going to go back to Hogwarts where we belong.”
“Your arrogance blazes through brilliantly,” Snape said disparagingly.
“I don’t care what you call it,” Harry said, scowling furiously. “All I know is that we’re not
going through all of this for nothing. Voldemort is all about hypocritical prejudice. I’m not
going to go through all the work of vanquishing him to simply put up with more of the same
shite from everyone else.”
“You truly believe Gryffindor ideals will make an impact on a prejudiced society?” Snape
questioned. “It will not happen, Potter.”
“The fuck it won’t,” Harry declared. “When I mix Gryffindor ideals with the Slytherin ability
to take advantage of a situation, I will make it happen.”
Snape didn’t respond, staring at Harry calculatingly.
“Harry is a very determined young man, Severus,” Remus spoke up quietly. “He also has
power that society has given him, whether he has wanted it or not. I do believe that he is
prepared to actually use that power now.”
“I’ll do whatever is necessary to keep people from being wrongly persecuted,” Harry said
darkly. He gestured to the parchment that Snape was still holding. “That includes not saying
things that would go against my case once Voldemort’s dead. Feeding people’s desire for
vengeance would not help any of us.”
Snape gave no indication of backing down or giving in. After several long, tense seconds, he
simply changed the subject. “This article has too much of Ms. Granger’s voice,” he declared.
“It is far too wordy to believably be written by you.”
“I reckon you want me to rewrite it,” Harry muttered.
Snape’s lips curled up at the edges. “An article written by you should contain more of your
rather passionate expressiveness,” he said. “I do not believe Ms. Granger or Ms. Weasley has
effectively captured your voice.”
Remus was smiling warmly. “Perhaps you could add some subtle groundwork for future
events,” he suggested.
“Harry – be subtle?” Draco scoffed, sounding amused. “He’ll need some help.”
Harry addressed Remus. “You’re taking the blame when Hermione wants to know why my
article is changed,” he warned.
Remus chuckled and nodded in agreement. “I believe I shall point out that assignments for
classes will have a different voice than other types of writing,” he said. “It is a fact I am sure
she is aware of, yet she struggles with writing outside of coursework mode.”
Harry certainly believed that, thinking Hermione was going to miss attending classes the
most if they didn’t start back at Hogwarts in the autumn.
Draco took over the physical writing as the group reworked and built upon the article that
Hermione and Ginny had already written. It was a rather spirited discussion which Harry
found himself actually enjoying. By the time he was rewriting the article in his own
handwriting, he had to admit that it sounded far more personal than it had previously.
*****
The next day things got a little sticky when Harry presented the article back to Hermione.
She was suspicious and disgruntled that her hard work had been edited so drastically. Remus
came along and helped explain things, but Harry still spent a fair amount of time attempting
to smooth her ruffled feathers.
As he half-listened to Hermione critique every other line of the article, he glared daggers at
Ron, who was conveniently on the other side of the yard talking with Remus. With a
whispered “good luck, mate” Ron had left Harry to face Hermione by himself.
Harry couldn’t help but think that the bloody article had been more trouble than it was worth,
and it hadn’t even been published yet. Luckily, by the time it came out, he would’ve already
dealt with everyone who actually mattered. Rather than arguing over the thing, again, he’d
have been much happier going with Draco.
Draco likely wasn’t having a particularly good time, either, but he was surely having a better
time than Harry. While Harry was busy at the Weasleys, Draco was meeting with Blaise at
the Shrieking Shack. Harry grinned inwardly, remembering Draco’s outrage at breakfast
when Remus had explained the “haunted” house. Draco had agreed to use it as his meeting
place, though, and at least Harry wasn’t too worried about anyone finding them there.
Draco and Blaise were working on possible plans for the Slytherins that didn’t want to
become part of Voldemort’s army of Death Eaters. How they planned to do that, considering
they couldn’t tell anyone anything, Harry wasn’t sure. He did know that Draco at least
planned to give Blaise one of the coins so they had that communication set up.
Hermione sighed in exasperation and set the article aside, clearly recognizing that she’d lost
Harry’s attention. “Harry, what have you been doing?” she asked. Her gaze flicked over to
Remus on the other side of the yard, then back to Harry. “I thought you were staying at the
Dursleys until your birthday, which is still a week away, but you keep popping up with
Lupin.”
He startled at the realization that his birthday was coming up soon, but he didn’t want to
admit that he’d already left the Dursleys. That would bring up any number of issues –
ranging from Victoria to Snape to not staying at the Weasleys – that he did not want to talk
about. He knew how to distract her, but it wasn’t his favourite topic of conversation.
“I reckon with Sirius gone, Remus probably feels it’s his duty to look out for me now,” he
said.
“Oh,” Hermione said, her expression instantly turning sympathetic. “Are you all right with
that?” she asked hesitantly.
His brow furrowed as he consciously thought about it. He realized with surprise that he was
all right with that. He felt a little guilty, but Remus was more like a father to him than anyone
had ever been.
His frown deepened. But then, how did Snape and Narcissa fit into that line of thought? They
were looking out for him as well. Narcissa had definitely taken to mothering him, almost as
much as she did Draco. Everything with Snape, though, was complicated. He couldn’t talk to
Snape about personal issues like he could with Remus. But it was Snape he was counting on,
more than anyone else, to actually help him get through the war.
“Harry,” Hermione said, interrupting his thoughts and bringing his attention back to her. She
was gazing at him worriedly.
“I’m all right, Hermione,” he said softly. “I’ll always miss Sirius and my parents, but Remus,
well, he’s here. I know he cares for me, and no matter what I do, I know he’ll accept me.” If
he hadn’t known that before, Remus had proven it by accepting his relationship with Draco,
let alone everything else going on in his life.
“You see him as a parent, don’t you?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “I’m not sure if it’s appropriate or not, but I do.”
“Well, he was close to your parents and Sirius,” she said. “I think they’d approve.”
Harry pushed thoughts of family aside as Hermione steered their conversation back to
Horcrux and war-related issues. He listened intently as she explained some of the things she
was learning about snakes and basilisks. That information would likely be useful, particularly
when it came time to kill Nagini.
The conversation became much more difficult when it came to the other Horcruxes.
“Harry, have you thought of any way to search for the locket?” Hermione asked.
Harry shrugged. He wondered what she would say if he told her Snape was working on a
solution to that problem.
“I was thinking,” Hermione said, picking up the article again, “that perhaps you could talk to
Scrimgeour.”
“Why?” Harry asked, brows raised incredulously.
“Well, we need to search Malfoy Manor, right? Maybe Scrimgeour could help us get in there.
You do seem to have some leverage with him,” she said.
“The joys of being the bloody Chosen One,” he muttered sarcastically.
Hermione frowned at him in disapproval, but otherwise ignored his comment. “With Ministry
and Auror backup, we could search for the locket. And maybe they’d even be able to capture
Malfoy,” she added.
Harry scowled. It was the best reaction he could come up with, knowing he should probably
be flying into a rage about Draco. He was thinking more, though, about Hermione’s idea. If
he didn’t have access to Severus, and the Malfoys themselves, he’d probably think it was a
good plan.
“Do you think you could get Scrimgeour’s cooperation, without telling him what you’re
searching for?” Hermione asked.
“Possibly,” Harry admitted. Scrimgeour was a pain in the arse, but like much of the bloody
Wizarding world, he put a lot of faith in Harry being able to actually end things with
Voldemort.
“I reckon it’s a good idea,” he said grudgingly. And it would hopefully put Hermione off for a
bit while he went about his own plans. “I’ll go talk to him soon and see if I can get him to
help.”
Hermione nodded in satisfaction. “Good, that’s settled. So, we just need to decide when to go
back to the Chamber,” she said.
“I’d still like to talk with Ginny,” Harry said, his jaw tightening.
“Harry, it wouldn’t be good for her,” Hermione said, her disapproval back in place. “Besides,
it’s not right to bring her into it. We’re not allowed to talk to anyone else about the
Horcruxes. You know this.”
“I don’t want to tell her about the actual Horcruxes,” Harry said, glaring at her. “I just want to
find out what she remembers. Maybe she’s got some clues that’ll help.”
“Dumbledore already talked to her,” Hermione snapped. “What do you think you’re going to
learn from her that he didn’t?”
Harry clenched his jaw, not daring to speak. Even if he wasn’t angry with Hermione, he
wasn’t sure he could explain. He didn’t know why he felt so strongly about it, but he’d been
mulling over thoughts of Voldemort and Hogwarts and the Chamber for a long time.
And Ginny had been there. She’d talked with Tom Riddle. She’d understand and be more
likely to help than anyone. Particularly as he didn’t even really know what he was looking
for.
Hermione seemed to take his silence as agreement with her, and blithely went on to suggest
plans to check into the Chamber over the weekend after she’d had more time to research
basilisks. He realized bitterly that she didn’t expect to find anything and was only humouring
him. The only reason she was agreeing to the trip down into the Chamber was because of the
basilisk. And how was he supposed to argue with her when he only had vague suspicions?
As they prepared to leave, he rubbed absently at his scar. He spent far too much time trying to
think like Voldemort.
They met Luna and her father over lunch in town. It went well enough, and Harry was rather
amused by the fact that Luna definitely took after her father. Remus’ mild-mannered
personality helped to ease some of the Lovegoods’ enthusiasm, which Harry was sure that
Hermione was eternally thankful for.
He wasn’t so amused by the fact that Ron and Hermione made it impossible for him to talk to
Ginny. It was another two days before Fred and George could arrange to get her away from
the Burrow. The time wasn’t exactly wasted because he spent it in training with Snape and
Remus instead, but he was still anxious to talk to Ginny and follow up with any possible
leads he had to find the Horcruxes.
*****
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Notes

Chapter Twenty-Five
Harry was not happy as he arrived at the twins’ flat. Narcissa had gently woken him not long
before and he’d had to leave the warm comfort of Draco’s arms to be here. As it was, he was
running late, and he had been highly aware of Snape’s smirk when he’d left Grimmauld
Place.
It didn’t help his mood that he had received some concerned looks from Remus and Narcissa,
considering he was leaving with his broom and his original Invisibility Cloak. He’d explained
that Ginny didn’t know about his new cloak – and he wasn’t sure if he wanted her to know
about it yet – but he’d refused to explain the actual need for the cloak or the broom.
“What is your problem, Harry?” Ginny asked.
“I’m betting that he just crawled out of bed,” Fred said.
“He does appear to have that grumpy morning look to him,” George agreed. “Even though
it’s almost half ten already.”
“You’d think that you would recognize that look, Ginny,” Fred said innocently.
“Ah, but maybe he wasn’t so grumpy on those mornings,” George pointed out.
Harry and Ginny were both scowling now. As Ginny berated her brothers, Harry bemoaned
the fact that Draco would not be happy with this conversation. He wasn’t happy, either, and
would much rather be back in bed where he’d left Draco sleeping soundly.
After getting the article sent off, he’d gone back to Grimmauld Place and spent the last day
and a half in training. He’d thought it had been gruelling training with Snape. It sure as hell
wasn’t easier when he had two professors ganging up on him. Draco had been put through his
paces as well, and they’d taken some brutal physical punishment while trying to master some
stronger shields. The only plus Harry could see in the training was that Remus made sure that
Snape healed them afterwards. Harry and Draco were now the dubiously proud owners of jars
of Snape’s personal bruise salve that worked wonderfully fast. It didn’t keep them from
collapsing in exhaustion after applying it, though. Harry really hadn’t wanted to get out of
bed that morning.
Sighing, knowing he needed to clear his head and deal with this, he called a halt to the
bickering and teasing by asking about how the twins had managed to convince Mrs. Weasley
to let Ginny out of the house finally. His mood lightened considerably as he listened with
amusement. From what he could figure out, Fred and George had weaved some grand,
elaborate tale about how Ginny was the only one who could help them with some product.
They’d managed to confuse their mother, and everyone else, and kept at it until she had
agreed.
Ginny pointed out wryly that if they hadn’t warned her first, she would never have allowed
the twins to sucker her in that way. The fact that Ginny had actually wanted to go had helped
convince Mrs. Weasley that it must be all right. Ginny had, of course, been ordered to stay at
the twins’ flat.
“We’re not staying here, though, are we?” Ginny asked.
“Depends on you,” Harry said. He glanced at the twins and they grinned wryly as Harry
erected a Silencing Charm around him and Ginny.
“I need to talk to you about Riddle and the Chamber of Secrets,” he said.
“You don’t want to actually go back down there?” Ginny asked, sounding alarmed and her
face draining of colour.
“Well, I have to go back at some point, with or without you,” Harry admitted. “I was kind of
hoping that you would go with me because I need to know more about the Chamber.”
“You know as much, if not more, than I do,” Ginny protested.
“Maybe,” Harry said, shaking his head doubtfully. “Riddle talked to me while I was down
there, but you were down there longer than I was. And you actually talked to him all year,”
he said.
“Yeah, about you,” she said ruefully. “I didn’t talk to him about the Chamber, or really
anything about him. Anything regarding those topics, my memory is still a blank.”
“Well, I suspected that,” Harry admitted. “You’ve said something before. But you remember
that night in the Chamber. Surely Riddle talked to you then.”
Ginny frowned deeply, thinking back to that night. “Harry, I don’t remember much,” she said
slowly. “I was unconscious for most of it. What I was alert for, he mostly gloated about luring
you there.”
“He does have a habit of doing that,” Harry said bitterly.
“What do you need to know exactly?” Ginny asked.
“I don’t know,” Harry said. “But the more I think about the Chamber, the more I’m
convinced that I’m missing something. I’m hoping that if we go back, the place will trigger
some memory.”
“I don’t even know what I’m looking for,” Ginny pointed out. “Wouldn’t it be better for you
to look at my memory through a Pensieve or something?”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Harry said sheepishly. “I don’t have one, but I reckon I could
probably come up with one somehow.”
They were quiet for a couple of minutes as they thought about the situation. Finally, Ginny
spoke up again. “It wouldn’t be the same as actually being there, would it?”
Harry shrugged. “I’ve seen a lot of Pensieve memories, and it’s as good as being there,” he
said. “It wouldn’t give me your thoughts, but if you went into the memory with me . . .,” he
trailed off, shrugging again.
“You have to go back again anyway?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’ve got my own memories of what happened, but I’m hoping that being there will
help trigger something,” he said.
“Which means I should go as well,” Ginny said ruefully.
“You don’t have to,” Harry said quickly. “The Pensieve is a good idea.”
“I’ll go,” she said decisively.
“Are you sure?” Harry said. “You do know that we’ll be seeing the dead carcass of that
basilisk, along with all the rest of that creepy place?”
Ginny grimaced. “Yay, I can’t wait,” she said in disgust.
Harry hadn’t eaten yet, so they stuck around until after lunch. Fred and George didn’t look
particularly happy with letting them go off alone, especially as Ginny was obviously pale and
tense, but they didn’t try to stop them.
On the way to Hogwarts, Harry wondered if he was making a mistake by taking Ginny back.
Ron and Hermione had been vehemently opposed to the idea. Fred and George were
concerned again. Harry was used to Ron and Hermione disagreeing with him about things,
but those worried expressions on the normally jubilant Fred and George bothered him.
This was important, though. His instincts were screaming that something was there in the
Chamber of Secrets. Voldemort placed too much importance on Hogwarts, and the Chamber
itself, for there not to be something. Surely there was at least some kind of clue.
They made it safely to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom and Harry wasn’t quite prepared for the
sudden wash of emotions that flooded him when he stepped into the room. He’d been so
focused on everything else that he’d forgotten about what he’d done to Draco in this room.
Ginny dealt with Myrtle as Harry’s memories shifted him backwards in time. Draco crying.
Them duelling. Harry cursing Draco and Draco clutching at his chest as blood poured freely.
“Harry, are you all right?” Ginny asked.
Harry nodded. He had a sudden, desperate urge to go back to Grimmauld Place and reassure
himself that Draco was all right, but he was fine. He walked over to the sinks and wondered
anew if this was such a good idea. Memories were likely to slam back into both him and
Ginny down in the Chamber. Ironically, he wanted the memories to hit. He just wasn’t as
confident as he had been that they’d be able to handle them.
He looked at Ginny questioningly and she nodded, determined. Swallowing heavily, Harry
focused on the small image of the snake and watched as the sinks moved aside.
They grimaced, staring down the slime-covered pipe. “That is disgusting,” Ginny said,
wrinkling her nose.
“Faster to slide down than to try to manoeuvre the brooms through the pipe, though,” Harry
said. Ginny had borrowed one of the twins’ brooms, so they each had a way out. “It’ll be
hard enough trying to do it on the way back.”
“Won’t Fawkes help again?” Ginny asked hopefully. The pipe was large, but it wasn’t really
large enough for easy flying. They’d be able to do it, but it would be slow going so that they
didn’t slam into the walls of the pipe.
Harry shrugged. “I don’t really know,” he said. “Last time was an emergency and this time
isn’t. I’ll try calling him when we’re ready to go, but I don’t know exactly how Fawkes does
things. We need the brooms just in case.”
He shook off all his doubts and grinned at her. “Ready to get dirty?” he asked.
“Ready for my next adventure with Harry Potter,” she said wryly, smiling herself.
Laughing, Harry began the long descent, Ginny following behind him. They landed in a heap
at the bottom. Quickly untangling themselves and lighting their wands, they started the trek
through the tunnels.
“I wonder how Lockhart’s doing,” Harry mused, clambering through the hole Ron had
created in the pile of rock.
Ginny giggled, but it sounded forced. Glancing at her sharply, he began an idle chatter as they
walked, filling the silence and attempting to distract her from the creepy atmosphere.
Reaching the actual Chamber, he hesitated. “All right?”
Ginny took a deep breath. “All right.”
Not particularly reassured, but nodding anyway, Harry opened the Chamber. Taking Ginny’s
hand in his own, they walked in together. Harry stared in shock. The large room was exactly
as he remembered it. It looked just as it did when he left. The basilisk was eerily the same.
He’d expected decay, and realized dazedly that the stench of the place was no worse than it
had been before.
“Why isn’t it rotting?” Harry asked, his voice loud in the cavernous room. He’d rather hoped
that they’d be able to use the venomous fangs somehow to destroy the Horcruxes, but he
hadn’t expected the entire bloody snake to be intact.
“It’s cold,” Ginny said, her voice hushed. “It’s preserved down here.”
As she said the word cold, Harry recognized that he was covered in goose bumps. It was
indeed miserably cold. He just had so much adrenaline flowing through him that he hadn’t
really noticed.
He was wondering if Hermione had done any of the research yet regarding the basilisk when
Ginny’s grip on his hand tightened painfully. He noticed with a start that she was staring at
the spot where he’d found her before. There was a blood-stain marking the area where Harry
had fallen beside her after killing the basilisk.
The memories gripped him and shifted him backwards in time again. Finding Ginny. Talking
with Tom Riddle. Fighting the basilisk. Fawkes healing him. The memories swamped his
consciousness.
He had no idea how long he stood there, but eventually he became aware of his surroundings
again to discover that Ginny was sobbing uncontrollably next to him. He pulled her to him
protectively and they sank to the stone. He sat there holding her, making soothing sounds and
murmuring any reassurances he could think of. Inwardly, he was cursing himself for putting
her through this.
He had to admit, the whole situation was overwhelming. It probably hadn’t been his best idea
for the two of them to come alone. He was startled when she began to speak.
“I don’t remember getting here,” Ginny whispered. She slowly sat up straight and looked
around, seeming to pull herself together a little.
She stood and Harry followed her lead, watching her carefully. She seemed to wander
aimlessly for a couple of minutes, but it gradually dawned on him that she was retracing
some path only she could see. She shook her head and finally looked at Harry. Harry didn’t
think she looked so good at the moment, but she appeared determined again.
“I first remember being here,” Ginny said, indicating the space where she was currently
standing. “Riddle was there, not far away,” she said, pointing. “He was laughing. I was scared
because the last I knew I’d been in bed. Then I was here. Nothing in between. I was just
suddenly here and there was this boy talking to me. I didn’t know who he was. And when he
did tell me, I didn’t believe it at first.”
She gazed at Harry. “He looked a lot like you do now,” she said, shivering.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut, remembering how Riddle had talked about their similarities.
He wasn’t overly pleased with the comparison.
“As long as I don’t look like the snake-faced bastard fifty years from now,” he said
sarcastically. “I reckon I can live with the comparison.”
Ginny’s lips quirked into a tiny smile. “You’ll always be better looking,” she said.
“Glad to hear it,” Harry said, shaking his head at the odd exchange, but grateful for the bit of
levity.
He listened carefully as she described her conversation with Tom Riddle. Riddle had given
her details that convinced her he was the same boy from the diary. He had explained to her –
and she now explained to Harry – how he’d lured her there and used her energy to be able to
take on a corporeal form.
Ginny frowned. “He said there was something special about the diary that allowed him to
come back,” she said slowly. Harry wasn’t surprised, considering he now knew that it had
contained a piece of Voldemort’s soul.
“He said . . . he said it was fitting that he took on that form here, because it was a place meant
for many secrets,” she said.
“It was fitting,” she repeated, glancing at Harry. She suddenly seemed more alert than she
had been since they’d arrived. “Harry, when I wrote in the diary, he would talk about secrets
a lot. At the time, I thought he simply meant my secrets, as I told him everything,” she said
bitterly.
Harry waited expectantly. Her entire attitude indicated that she was stumbling upon
something important.
“I often complained about being the seventh child,” Ginny said. “When we were down here,
he said it was a fitting place for the seventh secret. Not the seventh child—the seventh
secret.”
Harry’s jump of excitement encouraged her to continue.
“I thought he was mocking me – especially with the way he was laughing – but he wasn’t
mocking me, was he?” she asked. “You’re searching for his seventh secret.”
“Not exactly a seventh secret,” Harry said, smiling grimly. “But close enough.” He looked
around with new eyes. “So it is here somewhere,” he said.
“Harry,” Ginny said, calling his attention back.
“I never thought it important before, but Riddle said that once he had dealt with you he
planned to,” she paused, swallowing heavily. “He planned to throw me into the basilisk’s lair.
He laughed and said it was a fitting place for me since I appreciated secrets so much.”
Harry’s gaze jerked to the huge, stone statue of Salazar Slytherin. He remembered Riddle
speaking to the statue and the mouth opening to release the basilisk from its depths. The
mouth was closed now.
He took a few steps towards it before glancing back at Ginny. “Stay here,” he ordered. He
strode closer to the statue, staring up at it. Knowing only the words that Voldemort had
spoken, Harry now repeated them.
“Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four.”
He watched as the mouth opened again, as he’d watched years earlier. The mouth opened
until there was a huge black hole. A shudder travelled through his body, and he looked to the
basilisk, reassuring himself that it was dead. Slowly, he walked to the statue and began
climbing it.
“Harry! No!” Ginny shouted, running forward. “You don’t know what’s in there!”
Harry thought she sounded suspiciously like Hermione. But then again, this place had gotten
to Ginny, and he couldn’t really blame her for being more cautious. He looked between her
and the black, gaping hole. “Stay here. I just need to find out what’s in there,” he said with
determination, beginning to climb again.
Groaning, Ginny began climbing as well.
“No!” Harry shouted. “I said stay there!”
“I don’t like this place, but I’m not letting you go by yourself,” she snapped.
Harry had reached the hole and peered into the darkness. He sat down on the edge, Ginny
coming up beside him. It was another slimy tunnel, tilting down sharply. Their lit wands
didn’t penetrate far.
Harry glanced at Ginny. She glared at him challengingly and he nodded in resignation before
pushing off. He slid downwards, but landed with a thump a lot sooner than he had expected.
He jumped to his feet and lit his wand again. Holding it aloft, they could see torch brackets
on the walls and Ginny murmured the spell to light the first one.
Illumination spilled over a wider area, and glancing around, Harry was sure they were in the
basilisk’s den. This is where it had hibernated and slept throughout the many, many years.
Harry assumed there was some type of spell on the room, because the temperature was a lot
more comfortable than it was in the main chamber.
It was large, but not overly so. Circular shape. He couldn’t see any other openings other than
the one they came in. So, once again, only a Parselmouth would be able to enter the room.
The snake itself could obviously speak the language to get itself in and out of its den.
Harry frowned in thought, watching absently as Ginny lit more of the torches in the room. It
was a good spot for Voldemort to hide one of his Horcruxes. It had been protected by a
basilisk, and only someone who could speak Parseltongue could reach the place. There was
the small problem of the basilisk itself disturbing the Horcrux, though.
“What am I missing?” Harry mused aloud.
“There’s nothing here,” Ginny said quietly, her voice a little shaky, despite there not being
anything in the room.
Ginny was right, though. There wasn’t much in the room to speak of. Smooth, worn stones
on the floor, bone fragments and shed snake skin. Torches on the wall, all of which were
illuminating the room brightly at the moment. All but one, Harry realized.
“Ginny, why didn’t you light that last torch?” Harry asked curiously.
“I tried,” she said, shrugging.
Harry looked at her sharply before striding forward quickly to examine the torch. Searching,
he easily spotted the small engraving of a snake, just like the one on the sinks in the girl’s
toilet.
He bit his lip, thinking quickly. The Inferi as well as the potion had protected the locket.
Surely the basilisk and ability to speak Parseltongue were the protections for whatever this
Horcrux was.
“Ginny, go back to the main chamber,” Harry commanded. This time, there was no room for
argument in his tone.
“Harry,” she said weakly.
“No,” he said forcefully. “I know Parseltongue, and you don’t. I don’t want to risk you being
trapped.” He Accioed her broom from the other chamber. She looked terrified at leaving him
alone, and going back to the main room by herself, but she went without any further protest.
Taking a deep breath, Harry went back and focused on the tiny engraving of the snake.
“Open up.”
He stepped back quickly, watching with bated breath. After all he’d seen before, he should
not have been astonished to see a doorway appear, but he nonetheless was. The torches in the
small room beyond flickered to brightness. In the centre was a table.
Harry’s heart had already been beating rapidly, and his pulse beat even faster at the sight of
the silver hand mirror lying innocently on the table’s surface. Wand at the ready, he stepped
into the room hesitantly. Scanning the room quickly, he could see empty bookshelves lining
the four walls, but nothing else.
Only the table with the mirror resting on its surface.
Taking another step, Harry could see the ornate letter R carved into the handle. Rowena
Ravenclaw. He was as sure of that as he’d ever been certain of anything.
He wasn’t certain, though, that he wanted to touch it. He’d never been so afraid to look in a
mirror in his life. If he looked in it, would he see Tom Riddle? Voldemort? Or simply a
reflection of himself?
He glanced around at the bookshelves again. He carefully walked around the table, checking
for anything else in the small room. On the bottom shelf on the far wall, hidden from the
doorway by the table, was a single book and a stone.
He didn’t want to touch the stone any more than he did the mirror. The book was tempting
him, though. It looked horribly like the diary that Harry had destroyed.
It didn’t escape his notice that if he’d picked up the mirror straightaway, and if it was cursed
in some way, he may very well have never seen this other diary or the stone. Out of the three
objects, Harry wanted to see what was written in the diary. It was something he was more
familiar with, and the other had only been harmful when written in.
He reached for the diary, heaving a sigh of relief when nothing happened as he picked it up.
He opened it, surprised to actually see writing on the pages. The word “Horcrux” seemed to
leap from the pages. Skimming several passages, Harry became more and more convinced
this was Voldemort’s notes regarding the topic.
Excited beyond belief, but remembering Ginny in the other chamber, Harry carefully tucked
the diary into his rucksack that already contained the Marauder’s Map and the Invisibility
Cloak. He wasn’t going to touch the stone or the mirror yet. He would be back soon,
hopefully armed with more knowledge.
Grinning happily, he left the small room, the doorway closing behind him. He Accioed his
Firebolt and flew carefully up the relatively short pipe. Flying into the Chamber, he spotted
Ginny easily. His grin dropped quickly, however, as he landed next to her.
“Ginny? Oh, fuck!” he exclaimed softly. “I’m sorry.”
He knew with one look at her face that she’d been absolutely terrified waiting here for him.
Tears were coursing freely down her cheeks and she was trembling violently. He could see
the relief in her features, but it wasn’t enough to overcome the horror she’d clearly been
feeling.
“It’s all right, Ginny,” Harry said soothingly. “I found more than I ever could have hoped for.
Let’s get you out of here.” Gathering both of their brooms in one arm, he wrapped the other
around Ginny’s waist, guiding her out of the room and through the tunnels.
She didn’t say a word, but stumblingly followed Harry’s lead. He could feel the shudders
coursing through her and was increasingly worried. His only focus at this point was to get her
back to safety. Reaching the bottom of the main pipe leading up, Harry called softly for
Fawkes. He was eternally grateful when the phoenix appeared.
“Could you carry us up again, Fawkes?” Harry asked. Fawkes fluttered in the air before him,
waiting patiently.
“Ginny, I need to hold onto Fawkes and the brooms, so I need you to hold onto me tightly,”
Harry said urgently. “You won’t have to try to fly back up this way. Can you do that for me?”
Ginny nodded and wrapped her arms tightly around Harry. He didn’t like the idea of not
holding on to her at all and somehow managed to wedge the two brooms between their
bodies so he could wrap one arm around her. “All right, Fawkes, we’re ready,” he said. He
reached for Fawkes’ tail feathers, and they began their ascent through the pipe, landing back
in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.
“You lived again,” Myrtle said in disappointment.
“Yes,” Harry said irritably. “I need you to be quiet and not tell anyone you’ve seen us here.”
“I always keep secrets,” Myrtle said, sounding gleeful about all the secrets she must know.
Harry looked at her for a moment, wondering why he’d never thought to question Myrtle
before. She could have been a more valuable resource in the past. He shook his head to clear
it of those thoughts, digging the Invisibility Cloak out of the rucksack. He quickly checked
the map and their path was easily clear.
Ginny didn’t talk the entire way back, but her trembling gradually lessened, as they walked
the length of the tunnel. Harry tried to talk to her reassuringly, but wasn’t sure what else he
could really do for her. Getting her back to safety was the first priority. He promised her a
shower and hot tea and she did nod at those suggestions, at least. She was responding to him,
but her thoughts still seemed to be stuck down in the Chamber.
He was extremely relieved when they finally made it back to Fred and George’s flat without
further incident.
“What the hell happened to you two?” George asked in alarm when they entered.
“We’re fine,” Harry snapped, glaring at the twins and silently warning them to back off. He
dropped the brooms, his rucksack and the cloak unceremoniously to the floor.
“Ginny?” Fred called her name, looking worried.
She shook her head, still not wanting to talk.
“C’mon, Ginny,” Harry said gently, leading her to the bathroom. “You need a shower and it’ll
help you feel better.”
“Harry,” George said, again sounding alarmed. “You can’t go in there with her.”
“The hell I can’t,” Harry snarled. “I’m not leaving her alone again,” he said, stepping into the
bathroom after Ginny and slamming the door.
Harry gazed at her standing in the middle of the bathroom, looking lost. “Ah, Ginny, I’m
sorry,” he said miserably. Sighing heavily, he stepped over to turn the water on.
“Can you get undressed yourself?” he asked.
She looked at him blankly for a moment before she lifted shaking hands and fumbled with
the buttons of her shirt. It wasn’t helping her any that her clothes were covered in the filthy
slime.
Cursing himself for putting her, and himself, in this situation, he moved to help her. She
began crying again as Harry gently helped her out of her clothes. He hesitated when he had
her down to her knickers and bra, closing his eyes tightly for a moment. Draco was surely
going to kill him for this.
When he opened his eyes, he saw her trying to unhook the bra herself, but it wasn’t coming
unhooked for her. Taking a deep breath, he did it himself and helped her step out of her
knickers, before urging her into the shower.
“I’m a dead man,” he muttered to himself. Speaking louder, he called to Ginny. “Are you
okay in there?” Not getting an answer, he poked his head into the shower. “Ginny?”
She just looked back at him.
“Oh, Ginny, I know this is hard,” Harry said miserably.
She still just stood there gazing back at him with tears streaming down her cheeks, mixing
with the water cascading over her from the shower head.
Harry began yanking his filthy clothes off, cursing and muttering under his breath. “I’m a
dead man. It’s just a matter of who’s going to kill me first.”
He stripped down to his boxers, absolutely refusing to take them off, before stepping into the
shower with Ginny. She was standing exactly as she had been. Harry soaped up a sponge and
handed it to her. “I’ll wash your hair for you, but you need to wash your body yourself, all
right?”
She nodded jerkily, accepting the sponge. Grabbing the bottle of shampoo, he gently nudged
her shoulder with his other hand so she’d turn her back to him. As quickly and efficiently as
he could, he washed her hair. With all the slime in it, he had to do it twice, though. Finished
with her hair, he realized that she hadn’t done a thing with the sponge he’d handed her.
“Wash, Ginny,” he ordered gently.
She nodded and this time she finally began washing herself. Heaving a sigh of relief, Harry
began washing his own hair. When she was done, she stepped out of the shower on her own.
Harry dropped the boxers and quickly finished washing. Turning off the water, he snagged a
towel and wrapped it around his waist before stepping out. He was at least trying to keep
things as proper as he could.
Ginny was sitting on the closed toilet seat, wrapped in her own towel. She was simply staring
at the floor. Harry dropped to his knees in front of her.
“Are you feeling any better yet?” he asked hopefully.
Her eyes rose to meet his. “A little,” she said, speaking for the first time since they’d left the
Chamber.
“I’m so sorry for taking you there, Ginny,” Harry said, absolutely miserable.
Ginny heaved a shaky breath. “I’ll be all right,” she said. “It was just harder than I thought it
was going to be.”
“If I’d known it would hit you this hard, I . . . ,” Harry trailed off.
“You would still have done it,” Ginny said quietly. “We would still have gone.”
“You know why I had to take you, don’t you?” he asked, pleading with her to understand.
Ginny smiled a little. “No, Harry, I don’t actually know why. I know it has to do with
Voldemort, and I know you got all bloody excited, so whatever it was I helped you find must
be something good.”
“Well, what you helped me find is actually bad,” Harry admitted. “But the fact that we found
it is good. Now, I just have to figure out how to get it out of there. But I think I may have
found that solution as well.”
Ginny looked at him closely. “Harry, just how dangerous is this?” she asked. “I was scared to
death that you weren’t going to come back.”
He went to run a hand through his hair as he tried to figure out how to answer that. He
frowned at his hand as he realized his hair was still sopping wet. So was Ginny’s for that
matter. He grabbed a couple more towels off the shelf and handed one to Ginny before
beginning to towel dry his hair.
Ginny simply bundled her hair into the towel on top of her head. “You’re avoiding the
question, Harry,” she said.
Harry dropped the towel around his shoulders. “It’s dangerous,” he said flatly.
She was frowning in concern and Harry shook his head. “Don’t worry about it,” he said.
“You’ve done your part and it’s over with. No one else had the clues that you did.”
“Lucky me,” Ginny said sarcastically.
He smiled sadly at her. “If it’s any consolation, I know how you feel,” he said.
“Oh, Harry, I’m sorry,” she said. “I know you’ve got it much worse than me. I really don’t
know how you stand it.”
Harry shrugged. “I don’t know either sometimes,” he admitted. He shook his head to clear it.
“Are you going to be all right now?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Yeah,” Ginny answered softly. “I think it was mostly just the shock of being there again.
That, and I worked myself into quite the sorry state while I was waiting for you,” she said
ruefully.
“Your family is going to hate me when they figure out what I did to you,” Harry said.
“They’re not going to be finding out,” Ginny retorted, seeming to get a bit of her spirit back.
“Fred and George are the only two who know anything. And Merlin knows they’ll follow
along with anything you say.” She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes as she studied Harry.
He gazed back at her warily. “What?” he asked suspiciously.
“Who is it that’s going to be upset with you for showering with me?” Ginny asked bluntly.
Harry blinked at her. “What do you mean?” he asked.
Ginny rolled her eyes. “Harry, you wore your underwear into the shower with me. We’ve had
sex before and it’s not like I haven’t seen you naked. You’re obviously seeing someone,” she
said.
Harry groaned, ducking his head and realizing it would be hard to deny under the
circumstances. “I’m seeing someone who’s going to kill me when they find out,” he
muttered.
“I’m sorry, Harry,” she said sympathetically. “I realize it would sound terribly suspicious,
especially with you as secretive as you are anymore.”
“Yeah,” Harry said miserably.
“Will you tell her?” Ginny asked. “Does she know we were together?”
Harry winced, knowing Draco wouldn’t be pleased to be referred to as a girl. He wasn’t

going to correct Ginny, though. It was her assumption, and it would help keep any suspicions
at bay. “I won’t keep this secret, but I don’t know how I’m going to explain it, either,” he
admitted.
“So, she does know we were together,” Ginny stated.
“You’re not going to tell me who she is, are you?” Ginny asked wryly.
He looked up at her again and, smiling slightly, he shook his head.
“Are you happy?” she asked. “Did you find your spark?”
Harry’s smile widened. “Yes, it’s incredible, Ginny. I’ve never felt like this about anyone
before, and . . . ,” he faltered, realizing that he was probably insulting her.
She smiled genuinely. “Harry, I’m happy for you. I think it’s fantastic that you’ve found the
right person for you. If you want to be blissfully sappy and tell me all the details, then go
right ahead,” she said slyly.
“I’m not blissfully sappy,” Harry retorted, but he was still smiling.
“I think you are,” Ginny shot back. “Tell me what she’s like. You owe me some good
thoughts after what you put me through tonight.”
“I think you’re feeling better now,” Harry said dryly, standing up finally.
“Tell me,” she demanded, standing herself and moving to block the door.
Knowing he wasn’t going anywhere without telling her something, Harry leaned back against
the wall and closed his eyes, thinking about Draco. “Bloody gorgeous, strong, stubborn,
witty, challenging, creative, caring, protective, possessive,” he added wryly. “Family comes
first, excellent at potions, amazing on a broom, loves a challenge, hates being bored, brilliant
at kissing, warm and snugly in bed.”
“Harry, who the hell is she?” Ginny asked, gazing at Harry in fascination. “Does she have a
brother?”
Harry shook his head in answer to both questions, smiling. “I can’t tell you, Ginny,” he said,
sounding regretful. “We’re in the middle of this war, and it’s just not safe to tell anyone. You
can’t even tell Ron and Hermione I’m seeing someone.”
“Anyone with you is a major target and Ron and Hermione would simply pester you until
you landed in St. Mungo’s,” Ginny said.
“Something like that,” Harry agreed. “And Ron and Hermione are already upset with me for
enough things as it is. They’re not going to be happy I went behind their backs to take you
there tonight. They didn’t even want me to talk to you about it. I will probably have to tell
them I took you, though,” he warned.
“They’re not my keepers,” Ginny retorted, “And I’ll be fine.”
“So, can we leave the bathroom now?” he asked suddenly.
Ginny held her hands out in front of her, which were still visibly trembling. “I am better,
Harry, but I don’t think I got enough details to counteract the shaking,” she said.
Harry chuckled. “Too bad. Some warm clothes and a nice hot cup of tea or cocoa would do
you good,” he said.
She nodded in agreement and turned to finally open the door.

Fred and George leapt forward anxiously as they exited the bathroom, looking them both
over worriedly.
“Are you both all right?” Fred asked.
“We’re fine,” Ginny said calmly. “I was a bit shook up is all.”
“Hanging around Harry is sure to do that to a person,” George said cheerfully, relief evident
in his tone.
“Thanks,” Harry said sarcastically. “Do you have some clothes for us?”
“Ah, well, Ginny’s things are in the bedroom,” Fred answered. “Afraid you’re stuck with
wearing my clothes again.”
“Again?” Ginny asked curiously, pausing on her way to the bedroom.
“I had to borrow some of Fred’s robes once,” Harry said dismissively, accepting the stack of
clothes. He’d long ago gotten over any issues about his clothing and didn’t particularly care
what he wore nowadays. He realized there was some strange irony with him probably being
the least fashion conscious person in Hogwarts, seeing the most fashion conscious person in
the school.
He shrugged off Ginny’s suspicious gaze and turned to go back into the bathroom again to
get dressed. He had barely shut the door before he was accosted. He was shoved against the
wall and Draco appeared, kissing him possessively, before he had a chance to register what
was happening.
He responded automatically to Draco’s touch, not even questioning his sudden appearance.
He moaned into the kiss, his hands grasping Draco’s invisible shoulders, anchoring himself
for the assault. Feeling the hardness pressing into his abdomen, he rose up on his toes,
attempting to bring them closer together.
He was a little startled when his towel was suddenly ripped away, but groaned when Draco
touched him. Harry felt like he was drowning in the sudden wash of pleasure. Draco had yet
to release his mouth, tongue sweeping through every corner, claiming him.
Harry scrabbled for the fastenings on the cloak, wanting to feel Draco. He couldn’t
concentrate, Draco’s hand was squeezing and stroking him as the other hand rolled his balls
gently in his palm.
He finally released the fastenings on the cloak, shoving it off Draco’s shoulders. He skipped
Draco’s shirt, heading directly for the trousers. Draco’s mouth tore away from his as his hand
connected with hard flesh, the trousers already undone.
“Oh gods, Draco,” Harry moaned, as he stroked Draco’s erection quickly.
He received an answering moan, before Draco attacked his neck, nipping and sucking
greedily.
“Draco, I can’t. Oh gods. Please. Yes. Draco,” Harry whimpered. He thrust into Draco’s
hand, even as he attempted to keep the same rhythm as Draco thrust into his. He couldn’t take
much more of this.
It wasn’t just the act itself. It was the suddenness. It was Draco’s intense, forceful attitude. It
was Draco’s possessive claiming. Harry had the need to be claimed fully even as he wished
to claim Draco. But there wasn’t time for that. He was going to come. Soon. Now.
Draco’s assault on Harry’s neck didn’t pause as Harry came. Finding some stray thought in
his brain, he caught some of the hot, creamy essence in his other hand. Switching hands,
Harry renewed his efforts stroking Draco’s hard length, his hand gliding easily with his come.
Draco faltered, dropping his forehead to Harry’s shoulder as he came, shooting hot fluid
against Harry’s abdomen. Harry’s spent cock twitched as he shuddered.
It took another minute, but Draco finally lifted his head and looked at Harry. “You are mine,”
he said forcefully.
“Yes,” Harry agreed. “Yours. Only yours.”
Draco nodded in satisfaction before stepping back. Harry watched as Draco cleaned himself
up and straightened his clothing.
“Harry?”
Harry blinked at him, realizing he hadn’t moved at all. His brain finally set into motion again,
and his eyes widened. “You’ve been in here all along,” he said.
“Yes,” Draco said. “Did you think I was going to let you in here with Weaselette by
yourself?”
“Don’t call her that,” Harry said automatically, but there was no force to the words as he tried
to make sense of everything.
“Be happy I’m not cursing her into next year,” Draco sneered. “She’s not supposed to be
showering with my boyfriend.”
Harry looked at him nervously. “Nothing happened, Draco,” he said.
“I know that, you twit,” Draco retorted. “If something had happened, you would’ve already
been cursed yourself.”
“I messed her up pretty bad,” Harry said quietly. “I just needed to make sure she was okay. I
didn’t want to shower with her, but she wouldn’t have wanted Fred and George to help her
like that.”
Draco stepped closer to Harry again, cupping his face gently with one hand and looking at
him in concern. “I saw her. I saw how bad off she was,” he admitted. “What happened,
Harry? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Harry said, shrugging carelessly. “It was just another one of the unpleasant tasks I
had to do.”
He brightened, giving Draco a quick kiss before pulling away to begin cleaning up and
getting dressed as he talked. “I’m actually quite pleased,” he said. “I’ve made progress
today.”
He continued to mutter to himself as he dressed. “I’m sure it’s Ravenclaw, which covers all
but Gryffindor. There’s only one other, which is Hufflepuff.”
He paused for a moment in pulling the robes on. “Godric Gryffindor,” he mused. His eyes
widened. “Oh Merlin,” he breathed. “Could I have been right?”
He began pulling on his clothes again impatiently, not registering the alarmed expression on
Draco’s face. “I was going to go,” he said, angry with himself. “But I thought it was just me
being sentimental or something. Surely Dumbledore would’ve searched. But it simply has to
be there. It ties the last two houses together.”
He paused again. “But could Voldemort have done it? Wouldn’t Dumbledore have known? I
know the house was destroyed, but I don’t even know if anything is there still,” he said
bitterly.
“Harry!” Draco said sharply. “What are you nattering on about?”
Harry blinked at him, realizing he shouldn’t have been saying anything out loud.
“You’re leaving again, aren’t you?” Draco asked, watching him intently.
“No, not tonight,” Harry said, his shoulders slumping. He swallowed heavily. “I reckon it’d
be better to go during the day.” He turned away, not wanting to discuss his parents with
Draco.
His eyes caught on his reflection in the mirror. “Bloody hell!” he exclaimed softly, fingers
brushing against the huge love bite on his neck.
Draco sniggered, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist and propping his chin on Harry’s
shoulder. Harry met his amused gaze in the mirror. “You’re quite proud of yourself, aren’t
you?” he asked dryly.
“Of course,” Draco drawled.
Harry smiled slightly. “How am I supposed to hide this?” he asked.
Draco pouted at the idea of hiding it, but answered anyway. “Cast a low-level glamour over
it,” he said, pulling his wand and casting the charm.
Harry frowned as it disappeared. Brushing his fingers over the spot again, he could still feel
the tenderness, and his smile returned.
Draco smiled back, happy with Harry’s reaction. He combed his fingers through Harry’s hair,
attempting to tame it, at least a little, while Harry buttoned up the robes.
“I’ve been in here so long, they probably think I’ve drowned,” Harry muttered.
“The matching pair know that I’m in here with you,” Draco said casually.
Harry started, but then realized that he probably should’ve guessed that. He looked at Draco
curiously. “So, you decided to hang out with Fred and George while I was gone?” he asked.
Draco grimaced. “I knew you’d come back here first,” he said defensively, picking the cloak
back up off the floor and wrapping it around himself.
Harry simply nodded, not pushing the topic. He knew Draco had been worried about him. He
worried Draco every time he disappeared somewhere.
“Besides,” Draco added, “we’ve been working on adding some charms so that the cloak will
mask scent as well.”
“Oh,” Harry said, attempting to grasp the idea of Draco willingly working with Fred and
George. It was a good idea, though. “Did you figure it out?”
“We’re still working on it, and I’ll need Lupin to help us test it,” Draco said. “But, yes, I
think we’ve figured out a solution.”
Draco pulled the hood up and, shaking his head, Harry finally left the bathroom.
*****
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Notes

Chapter Twenty-Six
“Are you all right, Harry?” Ginny asked worriedly.
Fred and George were attempting to smother their grins.
“I’m fine,” Harry answered casually. “How are you doing?”
“You were in there a terribly long time,” she said in concern, ignoring his question.
Harry sat down, resting his head against the back of the couch before he responded. “I’ve
figured out someplace else I need to go,” he said quietly, knowing it would deflect attention,
but not really wanting to talk about it. “When we were still at Hogwarts, it’s where I had
planned on going first, but then I dismissed it.”
“Now you think it’s actually important to go to Godric’s Hollow?” she questioned.
Harry’s head snapped up to look at her.
She shrugged. “Ron let it slip,” she said.
Harry scowled, knowing it had also just been slipped to Draco. “Ron’s got a big mouth,” he
said irritably.
Ginny shrugged again. “We all know that,” she said dismissively. “He deliberately let it slip
to me, though.”
“Why?” Harry asked.
“Because he’s got it in his head that we’re going to live happily ever after,” she said wryly.
“When Hermione laid into him for it, he said that he’d want her there if he had to deal with
something like that, so he thought you’d want me there.”
He opened his mouth, and then shut it again quickly. The whole situation was ridiculous.
Fred, George, and Ginny all knew Harry would want someone else there, but while the twins
actually knew who it was, Ginny didn’t. Ginny didn’t even know that the twins knew
anything and vice versa. And all the while, Draco was probably watching them all, scowling
darkly.
“I’m taking Ron and Hermione with me and that’s it,” Harry said firmly. “Surely Hermione
won’t mind waiting while I kick Ron’s arse,” he added.
The three redheads laughed.
“Ah, come on, Harry,” Fred said cajolingly. “You wouldn’t force us to miss out on watching
that.”
Harry smirked at him. “It wouldn’t be worth it. I can’t afford to hurt him too badly at the
moment,” he said.
“Too bad,” George said despairingly. “Little Ronniekins deserves a good arse kickin’.”
“I don’t know,” Ginny said, giggling. “Hermione’s been doing a pretty good job on him
already.”
“She does have him fairly well-trained,” Harry agreed, grinning.
“So, no chance of you taking us with you?” Ginny asked, sobering.
“No,” Harry said flatly. “Ron and Hermione know why I’m going and, no, I can’t tell you.
It’s bad enough with you knowing as much as you do,” he said.
“Harry, we’re not going to say anything to anyone, and we’re not even blabbermouths like
Ron,” Ginny said.
“No,” Harry repeated forcefully. “I’m following Dumbledore’s orders on this. He told me I
could tell Ron and Hermione, but no one else. I’m needing too much help to follow the
orders completely, but I’m doing my best.”
Ginny frowned at him, clearly not happy. “Why didn’t Dumbledore ever ask me before?” she
asked, shifting the subject a little.
“I don’t know,” Harry said, frowning. “It doesn’t make sense. Part of it must be because I
didn’t get a vital piece of information to him until not too long before he died.” He shook his
head. “That doesn’t make sense, though, either.”
Why didn’t Dumbledore question Ginny about the Chamber? Dumbledore hadn’t been certain
about there being seven Horcruxes until after Harry got the memory out of Slughorn. Which
explained why Harry understood the references to the seventh secret that Ginny had
mentioned, but it didn’t explain why Dumbledore hadn’t questioned her in the first place.
Harry dropped his head, rubbing at his temples, lost in thought. Absently, he brushed his
fingers across his scar, thinking about Voldemort and Dumbledore and Horcruxes.
It was easier to understand why Dumbledore hadn’t questioned Kreacher. The old wizard
hadn’t known that Regulus had discovered the Horcruxes. Harry felt uneasy, though, that he
was discovering the locations of the Horcruxes all of a sudden, when Dumbledore hadn’t
been able to find them for so long.
Harry kept saying it was simply instinct that was guiding him on his search. He’d felt
strongly that there was something about the Chamber that led him back there. Was it simply
instinct? Was it an understanding of Voldemort’s ways, as Dumbledore had believed? Or was
it something more?
His fingertips traced along his scar again. There was no question that he had a connection to
Voldemort. Was there something about the connection that was leading him now? Why was
he able to find the Horcruxes? A horrible, terrible thought settled into his mind. Was he
connected to the Horcruxes? On the heels of that thought, Harry had another. Voldemort had
tried to kill him, but hadn’t succeeded. Was he a Horcrux?
“Harry!”
He looked up absently. “I need to talk to Hermione,” he said, feeling queasy. He fervently

hoped that she’d be able to tell him if he was a Horcrux or not.
“Harry, are you all right?” Ginny asked, looking alarmed.
“No. I need to talk to Hermione,” he repeated. He knew he must look bad, because even Fred
and George were gazing at him worriedly. He just couldn’t seem to pull himself together,
thoughts of Horcruxes and connections to Voldemort swirling haphazardly through his mind.
He rubbed his temples hard, attempting to ease the pounding that had started up in his head
again. Suddenly, he jerked them away as if he’d been burned. He stared at his hands in horror.
What if the headaches weren’t stress? What if Voldemort was messing with him again, just
more subtle than before? What if Voldemort was “helping” Harry find all these clues?
He felt sick, knowing he hadn’t actually retrieved any of the Horcruxes yet. Why should he
be able to suddenly start having all these clues? Surely it was too easy, considering that
Dumbledore had been trying to solve this for years. Not that he felt what he was dealing with
was easy, but still. It was all too quick.
Could the diary that was now in his rucksack have just been planted for him to find?
He’d been so sure, but now that the doubts had set in, especially after the day he’d had, Harry
was feeling terrible.
“Harry, snap out of it,” Ginny said sharply, shaking his shoulders.
He focused, looking up at her. “What if I’m wrong about all this?” he whispered hoarsely.
“What if this is all Voldemort?”
Ginny stared. “It’s not,” she said, but she didn’t sound particularly firm about it, and Harry
certainly wasn’t reassured. She dropped her hands to her side. “It can’t be, Harry,” she said
weakly.
George and Fred were standing on either side of her. “Ginny, can you keep Harry’s secrets?”
Fred asked.
“Can she handle another shock?” asked George.
“I’m fine,” Ginny snapped. “Harry’s the one who’s not okay.”
“No,” Harry said, his muddled brain registering what the twins wanted to reveal. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” Fred retorted.
“Whatever hit Ginny earlier has now hit you as well,” George agreed.
Harry held his hands out in front of him and realized he was shaking. “It’s not the same,” he
protested, stuffing his hands beneath his thighs so they wouldn’t shake.
“This isn’t about today. Not really. This is about the Department of Mysteries. He pulled me.
Successfully. Sirius died, Malfoy’s father ended up in Azkaban. People got hurt. What if
Voldemort’s pulling me now?” he asked miserably. “I need to talk to Hermione,” he said, yet
again.
“Told you before, mate,” George said. “We can’t send you to anyone when you’re in this kind
of state.”
“And you’re much worse off than you were the other night,” Fred added.
“We’ll handle her,” George said, getting everyone’s attention with the odd comment.
“I have her wand,” Fred said cheerfully, pocketing Ginny’s wand.
“What’s going on?” Ginny demanded.
“I said no!” Harry snapped angrily.
Draco appeared next to Harry. “You’re outnumbered,” he drawled.
“Malfoy!” Ginny shouted, making a lunge for him, but caught by the twins who gripped her
arms tightly and dragged her back.
“Fuck, Draco!” Harry exclaimed. “Do you even remember that you’re supposed to stay
hidden?” he asked sarcastically.
“Draco?!” Ginny shouted incredulously. The twins didn’t need to magically stun her as she
stood stock still, gaping at Harry in shock.
Harry and Draco ignored her. Draco sat down and grabbed Harry’s shaking hands tightly in
his own. “I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing while you’re falling apart,” he retorted.
“Damn it! I’m fine,” Harry snapped.
“If I hear you say you’re fine one more time, I’m going to hex your arse,” Draco said.
“You’re getting hysterical, so just calm down,” he ordered.
Harry stilled, recognizing their reverse roles from just four days before when he’d shown up
at the Dursleys with Snape. “I reckon I should be grateful you don’t have the snake,” he said,
much calmer.
“I could use pleasure instead of pain to calm you down,” Draco drawled suggestively.
Smiling wryly, Harry gave him a kiss.
“Better?” Draco asked.
“A little,” Harry answered. “But Draco, things are still fucked up. At the very least, I’m
connected to Voldemort,” he said, fingers brushing his scar again.
“Harry, we already know you’re connected to him. That’s why we worked so hard on your
Occlumency. Voldemort’s not pulling you,” Draco said firmly. “Don’t be a prat. Stop and
think about it. You’d know if he was.”
In other words, Snape would’ve told him if Voldemort was up to something like that. “I
know,” Harry said slowly. “But there’s still odd things happening.” He was back to rubbing
his temples.
Draco dug through the pockets of the cloak until he produced one of the Pain-Relieving
Potions. “Drink this,” he ordered.
“I’m taking too many of them,” Harry muttered, downing it anyway.
“Luckily for you, they’re not addictive,” Draco said, a small crease in his forehead showing
his concern. “If you develop a tolerance for them, we could be in trouble with any of the
stronger ones, though,” he admitted.
“Lovely,” Harry said sarcastically.
“Just lay down for a few minutes until that kicks in,” Draco encouraged.
Harry moved to lay down with his head in Draco’s lap. “This is how I ended up falling asleep
here last time,” he said warningly.
“Just lay down,” Draco repeated, carding his fingers through Harry’s hair. “Close your eyes.”
“I do still need to talk to Hermione,” Harry said, but closing his eyes as ordered.
Harry drifted into sleep, exhausted. He didn’t hear the Silencing Charm Draco cast on him,
the one they used on Victoria all the time, or the conversation that followed.
Draco warily looked over at the redheaded trio. Fred and George were relaxed, except for the
fact that they each still had a firm grip on Ginny’s arms. She didn’t look to be going
anywhere, though. She was staring gobsmacked at Harry and Draco.
Much as he’d like to simply Obliviate her, he didn’t think Harry would appreciate it. He was
fairly certain, though, he could convince her to cooperate for the same reason – for Harry’s
sake.
“Who are you?” she asked accusingly, coming to life and glaring at Draco. “And what did
you do to Harry?”
Draco rolled his eyes, the twins sniggering. “You know who I am, Weaselette,” he drawled.
“And I did nothing to Harry other than calm him down and help him relax enough so that he
fell asleep.”
“My name is Ginny,” she said between gritted teeth.
Draco’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Like I told Harry, when you’re showering with my
boyfriend, you can be thankful I’m only calling you Weaselette instead of cursing you into
next year.”
Ginny’s eyes widened at all the information that Draco had just revealed. “You . . . you’re . . .
you can’t be the ‘bloody gorgeous, brilliant kisser’,” she stumbled over the words, latching
onto the descriptions Harry had used to describe Draco.
Draco smirked at her. “The one and only,” he drawled.
The three had still been standing, but as Ginny’s legs threatened to give way, Fred and
George guided her over to the other couch, encouraging her to sit down. She finally looked at
her brothers. “You two knew about Malfoy, didn’t you?” she accused.
“Yes,” Fred said pleasantly. “He’s not so bad.”
“Getting kind of used to having him around,” George added.
“What are you saying?” Ginny demanded.
“We do what we can to protect Harry,” Fred began, speaking slowly for her, which she didn’t
seem to appreciate.
“Malfoy belongs to Harry,” George said, speaking in the same manner.
“So, we accept Malfoy,” Fred said.

“And do what we can to protect him as well,” George finished.
“Malfoy does not belong to Harry,” Ginny snarled.
“I do,” Draco said softly. “I belong to him as much as he belongs to me.”
“No,” Ginny said, firmly in denial. “You hate each other.”
Draco smirked. “I can’t argue with that,” he drawled pleasantly.
She looked at Harry, lying so peacefully and comfortably with his head pillowed on Draco’s
lap. Draco’s fingers were still absently playing with strands of black hair.
“You don’t look like you hate each other,” Ginny finally admitted. Sighing, she met Draco’s
gaze. “Tell me what you can?” she asked.
Draco nodded in agreement, giving Ginny a very condensed and limited version of events.
He hesitated, but decided to tell all three of them about Victoria.
It wasn’t an overly pleasant conversation, as Ginny wasn’t nearly as satisfied with Draco’s
vague answers as the twins had been. She was a bit disgruntled to discover that her brothers
were firmly on Draco’s side. Eventually, she grudgingly gave in. The evidence in front of her
was difficult to ignore.
Ginny threatened dire harm if Harry got hurt, Draco sneered, Fred and George shook their
heads in amusement, and Harry slept peacefully through all of it.
“Is Harry actually all right?” Ginny finally asked, gazing at his sleeping form in concern.
Draco sighed, looking down at Harry. “I think so, but he’s dealing with a lot of shite,” he
said. “Do you know why he wants Granger all of a sudden?” he asked, changing the subject
slightly.
“No, not really,” Ginny answered. “He never mentioned her until just now. I’m not sure it has
any relation to whatever he found tonight, because he didn’t want to talk to her until he
started worrying that Voldemort was manipulating him again.”
Draco exhaled heavily. “I should probably take him home,” he said.
“Home?” Ginny asked, eyebrows raised.
“As close to home as either of us have at the moment, yes,” Draco sneered. “He needs a good
night’s sleep. Merlin knows what tomorrow will bring.”
Ginny tilted her head, eyeing Draco speculatively. “You’re doing everything you can to help
him hold it together, aren’t you?”
Draco didn’t respond, not exactly comfortable with her knowing that. The fact that he was
holding a civil conversation with a Weasley, that also happened to be Harry’s ex-girlfriend,
was suddenly making itself known in Draco’s conscious thoughts.
“I’ve never seen Harry . . . relax so quickly like that before,” Ginny said. “Not once he’s got
himself worked up.” She looked at Draco, her expression grateful. “I don’t understand it at
all, but whatever you’re doing for Harry, I truly hope you keep it up.”
Draco arched a brow in surprise. Just a short time earlier she’d barely given grudging
acceptance – which had honestly been more than Draco had hoped for – and now she was
encouraging his relationship with Harry? Draco wasn’t convinced that he cared personally,
but for Harry’s sake he was glad. Whether he liked it or not, he knew Ginny was important to
Harry and they were still friends.
“I will,” he said finally.
*****
The second they returned to Grimmauld Place, Harry was engulfed in a tight hug by Remus.
Narcissa was hovering close by and hugged him next. Harry realized with a start that even
Snape was leaning against the wall nearby and running a trained eye over him, checking to be
sure he was all right.
“Merlin, I’m fine,” Harry said grumpily. “Why all the fuss?”
Draco had woken him not long beforehand. Harry had only long enough to assure himself
that Ginny was doing all right and that the twins would take of her before Draco had hustled
him back to Grimmauld Place.
“Potter,” Draco said warningly.
“I am fine,” Harry said with a sulky expression.
“Tea,” Snape ordered.
Harry looked at him blankly, trying to figure out what tea had to do with anything. He wasn’t
given an opportunity to protest, though, as he was led insistently to the kitchen. Upon
stepping into the room, his gaze immediately fell upon Fawkes, resting on his perch once
again.
“Hello, Fawkes,” Harry said softly, walking over to him to gently stroke the bird’s head.
“Glad to see you made it back all right.” All of a sudden, it hit him why the others were so
worried and he turned sharply on his heel to look at them.
“I really am fine,” he said earnestly. “No emergencies and no injuries. I just needed him to
get out of a bit of a tight spot.”
Draco frowned, seeming to realize something else was going on. Remus and Narcissa looked
relieved. Snape remained impassive, but gestured for Harry to sit.
Sighing, Harry realized he wasn’t going to get away without explaining, at least part of what
he’d been up to during the day. Giving in to the inevitable, Harry sat down at the table. Snape
set a cup of tea in front of him and ordered him to drink it. He wondered what Snape had put
in it, but took a sip regardless. He realized that he’d never gotten any hot tea earlier, like he’d
promised Ginny, and appreciated it now.
“Here, Potter,” Snape said, handing a tin to Harry. “Treats that Fawkes enjoys.”
Harry smiled gratefully. “Thanks.” Opening the tin, he called to Fawkes and offered him
some of the treats. Fawkes rested on his shoulder, appearing content. Feeling more content
himself, he looked around to the others. Draco was sitting next to him, with the three adults
facing them from the other side of the table.
“Would you care to explain exactly why Fawkes deserves treats now?” Snape suggested
silkily.
“As Dumbledore would say, a trip down memory lane is sometimes necessary,” Harry said,
smiling cheekily.
Remus was surprised into smiling and Snape snorted in amusement. “Potter, do not believe
that you will be allowed to avoid explanations like Dumbledore,” Snape said, his lips curling
at the edges.
Smiling, Harry shrugged. “Actually, there really isn’t much I can tell you, based on his
orders,” he said.
He sobered, meeting the gaze of each person solemnly. “It is absolutely vital that Voldemort
does not have any idea where I’ve been today,” he said. “It’s even more important that he
doesn’t find out about the discovery I made. No, today wasn’t pleasant, but it was worth it.
I’m one step closer to being able to defeat him. Truthfully, I think I’ve gained far more than
one step today,” he admitted.
He frowned, staring into his tea cup for a few moments before looking to Snape. “Sir? I need
to know . . .,” he trailed off, biting his lip.
“What is it, Potter?” Snape asked.
Harry glanced at Draco. “If it’ll make you feel better, just ask him, Harry,” Draco said
quietly. “I think he’s going to tell you the same thing I did, though.”
“I need to know if Voldemort’s pulling me at all,” Harry said on an exhale. “Like when he
planted all the information about the Department of Mysteries.”
Snape’s brow creased in concern. “There has been no indication of anything of that sort,” he
said. “In fact, he has expressed extreme frustration that he has been unable to reach your
mind as he has in the past.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that before?” Harry accused.
Snape lifted a brow. “And given you a reason to relax and not push to continue learning?” he
asked pointedly.
“I can’t afford to relax,” Harry said petulantly. “It would’ve been nice to know.” He shook his
head, trying to clear away the feelings of old resentment. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“Potter, why are you asking about this now?” Snape questioned, frowning at him.
Harry’s hands lifted to his temples, almost of their own accord. It had become habit recently.
As soon as he realized what he was doing, he pulled his hands away to look at them.
“I’ve been having a lot of headaches,” he said quietly in explanation. “I’ve thought they were
just stress, but . . .,” he trailed off uncertainly.
“Do they feel at all unusual?” Snape asked.
“No, but . . .,” Harry said, trailing off once again.
“But what, Potter?” Snape asked, eyes watching him closely.
Harry shook his head helplessly. “I don’t know how to explain,” he said.
“If you do not explain, then I can not help you,” Snape said with surprising patience
expressed in his voice.
Draco shifted closer and wrapped an arm around him in reassurance. Harry leaned his head
against Draco’s shoulder for a few moments, soaking up the quiet strength as he attempted to
gather his thoughts. At least he seemed to have caught Snape when he was in a patient mood.
He straightened, focusing on Snape again. “Dumbledore spent years trying to figure out how
to defeat Voldemort. He spent this last year giving me all the pieces of this elaborate puzzle
that he’d been able to gather. I helped him gather a couple of the pieces myself. One
extremely important piece, in particular,” he admitted.
Snape was listening intently, giving Harry his full attention. “Go on,” he encouraged.
“Dumbledore spent years,” Harry emphasized. “Yet, all of a sudden, I’m piecing things
together fast. Things are falling into place so fast that I don’t have time to keep up with all
the clues.”
“And you are concerned that the Dark Lord is somehow involved,” Snape concluded.
“Yes. I mean, how is it that I can figure this out when Dumbledore hadn’t been able to? It’s
not possible. I’m just a bloody teenager who doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing,” Harry
said, becoming highly agitated again.
Snape warmed Harry’s cup of tea, ordering him to drink. Harry had to wonder if the man was
lacing his tea with Calming Draughts or something else, but he sipped obediently.
“Potter,” Snape said slowly. He leaned his elbows on the table, steepling his fingers under his
chin. “First of all, I do not believe the Dark Lord is involved in any way. With everything I
have seen and heard, I am far more inclined to believe that your apparent successes have to
do with those ‘survival instincts’ that you were recently shouting about so eloquently,” he
said dryly.
Harry flushed, remembering his ranting in the Room of Requirement. “My instincts certainly
aren’t better than Dumbledore’s, though,” he protested.
Snape eyed him speculatively. “Perhaps not,” he said. “However, I have to wonder if you are
approaching the situation from a far different perspective. You are presumably building your
knowledge on the foundation that Dumbledore has already built for you. You are taking that
knowledge, and using your own resources to expound on it.”
Harry frowned doubtfully, biting at his lip. That’s what he was worried about – that he was
approaching things from a different perspective – one not his own.
“What else is concerning you?” Snape asked.
Harry shook his head. “I can’t really talk about it,” he said miserably.
“You still want to talk to Granger?” Draco asked.
“Yes,” Harry said, shrugging helplessly.
Draco’s expression tightened in irritation. “Just talk to Severus. He’s listening and trying to
help you,” he said.
“I know, and I appreciate it,” Harry said quietly, glancing at Snape before dropping his gaze
to the tabletop. “Hermione can help answer a question for me that no one else can, though.”
“Potter, whatever your other concerns are, I do not believe your headaches are related to the
Dark Lord,” Snape said calmly. “You are under an extreme amount of pressure. It is not at all
surprising that the stress surfaces in the form of headaches. They are also likely due to your
lack of proper sleep habits,” he said pointedly.
Harry shrugged. “I took a nap earlier,” he said.
“You only slept a couple of hours, Harry,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. “C’mon, let’s go to
bed. You can go talk to Granger in the morning.”
“Go,” Snape said dismissively.
Harry nodded to Snape and wished them all a good night, following Draco’s lead. They were
both quiet as they prepared for bed, as both were exhausted. Harry lay down, sure that he
would fall asleep quickly. He was comfortable, and it felt wonderful lying with Draco, but his
mind refused to settle.
He carefully slid out of bed, not wanting to wake Draco. Now that he had an opportunity, he
retrieved the diary from his rucksack and settled into one of the chairs by the fireplace to
read.
He read, becoming more and more nauseated. He’d been right that it was Voldemort’s notes
regarding his knowledge of Horcruxes. There were detailed descriptions of what Horcruxes
were. More horrifying were the notes outlining precisely how to create a Horcrux – the
process, incantations and descriptions of how the soul was split. He didn’t understand all of
it, but the comprehensive notes sketched out precisely why Voldemort had decided it was best
to split his soul into seven pieces.
Harry read on, further sickened by the fact that the words on the pages were completely
impersonal. It was precise, analytical, and cold. Everything he could ever possibly want to
know about Horcruxes was there in black ink on cream coloured pages.
He was surprised to find information on how to destroy the Horcruxes, but he realized that
the diary was nothing if not thorough. There was hope in the fact that the Horcruxes in
themselves were not difficult to destroy. They held a piece of life, and could be destroyed in
any manner that life could be destroyed.
Harry paused and thought about that. He’d destroyed the diary simply by stabbing it with the
deadly poisonous basilisk fang. What had Dumbledore done with the ring, though? It had not
been dangerous to touch as the old wizard had been wearing it before destroying it, but
destroying it had done something terrible to Dumbledore’s arm. Whatever Dumbledore had
done, it had blackened both the stone in the ring and his arm.
Why? It didn’t make sense. Harry turned back to the pages of the diary, hoping to find the
answer as he continued to read.
Turning the page, it took Harry several moments to register that the words on the following
pages looked different. It took him awhile longer to realize that the words were in
Parseltongue.
His heart pounding, he read quickly. The words he read in Parseltongue left his head reeling.
And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal . . .
That bit of the prophecy had never made more sense than it did at that moment.
Voldemort, with all his learning, still relied heavily on the fact that he was the only
Parselmouth in existence. However, he had given that ability to Harry.
It would lead to Voldemort’s downfall.
*****
“Potter, what are you doing?”
Harry looked up, blinking rapidly as he focused on the owner of that sharp voice. He glanced
at the area around him. Books stacked haphazardly that he’d pulled from the shelves in the
potions lab littered the entire area. “Research,” he answered, looking back up at Snape, who
was now towering over him.
Snape’s eyes narrowed. “These texts are all on the subject of the Dark Arts,” he stated.
“Voldemort doesn’t deal in light shite,” Harry said bitterly, without thinking. “No, he goes for
the nastiest things in existence.”
“Indeed,” Snape said, raising a brow at Harry’s attitude.
Harry rubbed his face tiredly. “Is it morning, then?” he asked.
“Surely you have not been awake all night?” Snape asked, his tone making it clear he already
knew the answer.
“I have been if it’s morning,” Harry said dryly. “And if it is finally morning, then I need to go
see Hermione,” he added, beginning to stack some of the books.
He paused, looking up at Snape warily. “Um, I actually need to borrow some of these books.
Hermione’s far better at research than I am. She has great respect for books and I’m certain
she won’t let any harm come to them. As long as I don’t tell her they’re yours,” he qualified.
Snape frowned, taking in Harry’s appearance. “Potter, are you all right?” he asked, ignoring
Harry’s rambling about the books.
No, I’m not all right, Harry wanted to shout. The fact that it was Snape asking the question
was probably the only thing that kept the words from spewing from his mouth. “Do I look
that bad?” he asked instead, his voice loaded with sarcasm.
“Yes,” Snape said bluntly.
Harry scowled at the man. He was startled when Snape produced his wand and conjured a
large mirror.
Harry stared at his reflection. He’d never seen himself look so terrible. His bloodshot eyes
looked crazed – deep, bruised shadows beneath them. The rest of his face was deadly pale.
His hair was practically standing on end from all the times he had been running his hands
through it. The glamour over the love bite had faded, leaving it standing in stark contrast to
his pale skin.
In short, he thought he looked like he’d been beaten and left for dead.
Mentally shaking it off, he looked back to Snape. “Well, I reckon I do look that bad. Thanks
for pointing that out to me,” he said sarcastically.
“Potter, you need rest,” Snape said sharply.
“No, I’ve got work to do,” Harry said, beginning to gather books again.
“You are not leaving here with those books,” Snape said.
“But I need them!” Harry said, alarmed. “You have to let me borrow them!”
“You expect those books to be able to help you?” Snape sneered.

“Yes!” Harry shouted. “You don’t understand! I have to finish figuring out what to do.”
“Not today,” Snape said dangerously.
“You don’t understand,” Harry repeated, pleading with Snape. “I’m the only one who can
defeat Voldemort.”
Snape’s brow furrowed as he gazed at Harry. “Potter, we both knew this already. This is not
new information,” he said.
Harry pulled his knees to his chest, sitting in the middle of a sea of books. He took in a
shuddering breath. “I didn’t know or understand exactly what Voldemort had done before,”
he said bleakly. “I never truly believed that I was the only one who could kill him.”
Snape crouched down beside him, meeting him at the same level. Harry met his gaze, not
knowing how much despair was written on his own expression. “Voldemort’s made it
impossible for anyone but me to kill him. I’ve learned tonight that he’s even more evil than
everyone gives him credit for,” he said. “He truly wants to be invincible and, at this point, I
am the only one who stands in his way.”
“Do you believe you can defeat him?” Snape asked steadily, his hand reaching forward to
grip Harry’s shoulder.
Harry bowed his head. “Yes, but I’m going to have to learn more Dark Arts to do it,” he said.
“I don’t think Dumbledore expected that. The way that he talked, he was proud of me for not
being seduced by the Dark Arts, but he seemed to feel it was synonymous with wanting to be
one of Voldemort’s followers.”
“Do you feel they are the same?” Snape asked.
“No. I’ll never be one of Voldemort’s followers,” Harry said quietly. “But I will use whatever
Dark Arts I need to accomplish my goal. I really only need to learn a few spells,” he
admitted, knowing he was attempting to rationalize.
“Potter, come sit down,” Snape commanded, gripping Harry’s arm and hauling him to his
feet. Harry allowed himself to be sat down on the couch next to the man.
“Look at me,” Snape ordered.
Harry couldn’t bring himself to lift his gaze and shook his head.
“Harry.”
Startled at hearing Snape use his first name, Harry looked up at him. “I thought that might do
the trick,” Snape said dryly.
Harry scowled at him. “I’m really not in the mood to be mocked,” he said.
“No, I’m sure you’re not,” Snape said seriously. He hesitated a moment before continuing.
“Given the circumstances, I believe it is time we addressed each other by first names.”
Harry blinked several times in astonishment, unsure of where the hell this had originated. He
was sure that he’d been talking about the Dark Arts, Voldemort and Dumbledore.
Snape looked irritated with Harry’s expression. “I would think that you would appreciate
having one less enemy,” he said.
“You’re not my enemy,” Harry said quickly. “But you really don’t want me to call you
Severus, do you?”
“One who is willing to defend me, especially under such difficult circumstances, deserves to
be able to call me by my first name,” Severus said. “You have more than earned the right.”
Harry’s brows rose doubtfully, but he gave it a try. “Thank you, Severus,” he said. He gave
him a lopsided smile when Snape smirked at him. “And Draco thought me defending you
was bizarre.”
“Indeed,” Snape said, still smirking in amusement, but then he sobered again. “Harry,
Dumbledore would think no less of you for using the Dark Arts,” he said.
Harry’s mood, that had lightened a little, immediately plummeted once again, but now his
eyes were locked on Snape’s. He could feel his eyes burning, and he didn’t want to cry, but if
Snape kept this up, he was going to lose it.
“He was my mentor as well as yours, Harry,” Snape said quietly. “I understand the need to
make him proud, even when the task he’s assigned seems beyond my capabilities. He would
be extremely proud if he could see you right now.”
Harry couldn’t hold onto the tears and bowed his head again. “I’m trying, but I’m not as
strong as you,” he said miserably.
“I think you are,” Snape said.
Harry shook his head in denial. He was startled when Snape pulled him close, but clung to
the man once he was there. It took him long moments to register that Snape was hugging him
just as tightly. He had no idea how long they sat there like that, but his tears had dried again
before Snape gently pushed him away.
“Surely that should satisfy the old man,” Snape said, his voice rough.
Having started to feel uncomfortable, Harry stared for a few moments before he suddenly
smiled. “Yes, I’m sure he’s quite satisfied that we’re finally behaving,” he said.
“Indeed,” Snape said softly, giving Harry a small but genuine smile.
Harry felt much lighter, and was sure that Snape felt the same way. Unfortunately, Harry felt
even more exhausted than he had earlier, and he groaned as he looked back at the mess of
books.
“All right, brat,” Snape said. “Tell me how urgent it truly is for you to see Ms. Granger this
morning.”
“I have some extremely important information to give her,” Harry said. “I went over the
information myself last night, and there’s research that needs to be done.” He looked at
Snape. “Hermione’s my researcher,” he said with a shrug. “The sooner I get it to her, the
sooner she can get started.”
“Do you not think that it would be more appropriate to go over this information when you
were rested properly?” Snape questioned.
Harry paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. “As much as it concerns me that I’m
discovering these clues so quickly, I feel like I’m running out of time. Voldemort wants
Hogwarts. He wants it for more reasons than Dumbledore realized, and now that Dumbledore
is gone, he’s just going to work harder at taking over the castle.”
“The Dark Lord has mentioned that he has plans for taking Hogwarts,” Snape admitted
quietly.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Harry asked sharply.
Snape eyed him speculatively. “You already knew this when he attempted to take
Hogsmeade. Aside from that, there is nothing definite that I could tell you at this point. It
seemed unnecessary to scare you when I could tell you nothing more,” he said.
“Well, as terrible as it is, I’m less scared of him taking the castle than I am at him discovering
what I’ve learned,” Harry said. “And he will discover it immediately if he gains access to
Hogwarts.”
Snape’s eyebrow arched in surprise.
Harry smiled grimly. “I know more about Voldemort than anyone would ever wish to know,
and I need to make sure he stays unaware of that fact,” he said. “The faster I can pull things
together, the better off we will all be.”
“Very well, then,” Snape said. “Gather the books you need.”
Gratefully, Harry went back to piling up the selection of books that seemed like they would
be the most useful. While he was doing that, Snape went to his potion cabinet and returned
with a vial.
“This is stronger than Pepper-Up and will help you stay more alert,” he said, handing it to
Harry. “It’s not wise to take it frequently, but it would seem that this is one of those times.”
He watched as Harry downed the contents. “You will rest tonight,” he ordered.
Harry nodded in acceptance and began shrinking the books, putting them in his rucksack.
Snape waited until Harry was ready, and then broke the wards he had erected on the room.
Harry looked at him in surprise, as he hadn’t known that Snape had placed them, but didn’t
question the man aloud.
Walking into the kitchen, they were greeted by three very anxious people.
“Leave him be,” Snape said warningly, attempting to halt the questions before they started.
“No,” Draco said, shaking his head. “It’s bizarre enough having Harry defend you,” he said to
Snape. “Having you defend Harry . . . it’s not right.”
Harry exchanged an amused glance with Snape before sitting down next to Draco. “Welcome
to the world of the bizarre,” Harry quipped. “If something strange and unusual can happen,
then it will surely happen to me.”
“Now, that’s certainly the truth,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. He looked Harry over critically.
“You look like shite, Potter.”
“Draco,” Narcissa reprimanded.
Harry shrugged. “It’s all right. I’ve already been informed I look like hell,” he said.
“Ah, so Severus is still himself,” Remus said in amusement.
“Yes,” Harry said wryly. “I’ve already been given all my lectures for today.”
“I’m sure I can produce more,” Snape said smoothly, sitting down with his cup of tea.
“I’m sure he’ll need more,” Draco said to Snape before turning to Harry again. “I want to
know why you disappeared from bed last night.”
“I needed to spend some quality time with Voldemort,” Harry said sarcastically.
“What?!” Draco exclaimed incredulously.
“Much as I would’ve rather been sleeping with you, I learned some valuable information
about Voldemort last night and I needed to process it – alone,” Harry said. He glanced at the
clock. It wasn’t even seven o’clock in the morning yet. “Did you discover I was gone and
raise the alarm or something?”
Draco flushed a light pink. “Something like that,” he muttered.
Harry looked at Snape. “So, did you volunteer or get elected to see what the idiot Potter was
up to?” he asked sarcastically.
“He locked us all out,” Draco said irritably before Snape could answer.
“If it makes you feel any better,” Harry said slyly. “I’ve been ordered to stay in bed tonight.”
Draco arched a brow in interest. “That’s something, at least,” he said. “I don’t reckon he
ordered you to stay here today,” he added hopefully.
“Um, he tried,” Harry admitted. “I’ve got things to do, though.”
“I don’t want you going there,” Draco said. “You aren’t seriously planning to go with just
Granger and Weasley, are you?”
“Go where?” Snape asked, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

Harry glared at Draco. “For someone who supposedly doesn’t trust Snape, you’ve got a big
mouth,” he snapped.
“You changed my mind,” Draco said haughtily.
“Draco, you weren’t supposed to know I was going there,” Harry said irritably.
“But I do know, and I don’t want you going there without me,” Draco said forcefully.
“Because I don’t want you looking like the Weaselette did last night,” Draco retorted.
“I can handle it,” Harry ground out.
“Harry, you’ve had no sleep. Your headaches have just been getting worse. You’re pushing
too hard,” Draco said, his expression softening. “You don’t know what you’re going to find
there, and it would be difficult to deal with even under the best of circumstances.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Harry said stiffly. “I have to go.”
“I don’t understand it, but I recognize that,” Draco said. “I’m just saying that I’m not
willingly letting you go there without me.” He hesitated for a moment before continuing.
“Weaselette and the matching pair are going as well.”
“What the fuck?!” Harry exclaimed. “You can’t tell me that you’re conspiring with them to
follow me?”
Draco bit his lip. “I think Lupin should go as well,” he admitted.
“What?! No!” Harry said, his voice rising.
“You took the Weaselette yesterday because she had the best information!” Draco shouted.
“You need Lupin for this.”
“No, I don’t,” Harry said fiercely. “I thought you understood last night that Ron and
Hermione are the only two who know why I’m going.”
“Then tell us!” Draco exclaimed.
“I can’t and you know that,” Harry snapped. “Dumbledore told me to tell no one, only giving
me permission to tell Ron and Hermione. I’ve already fucked up by letting out as much
information as I have.”
“Dumbledore would want you safe and sane,” Draco said dangerously.
“I fucking hate you,” Harry said irritably.
“The feeling’s mutual,” Draco drawled, sensing Harry giving in.

“Fine. I’ll probably be spending most of today doing research anyway, so I’ll wait until
tomorrow to go there. You fill in the rest of my keepers,” Harry said sarcastically. “I need to
finally go talk to Hermione.”
He glared at Draco warningly. “And no matter what happens, you will not reveal yourself to
Ron and Hermione. It would not go over nearly as well. As much as you irritate me, I’d like
to keep you around.”
*****
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Notes

Chapter Twenty-Seven
Harry sat down on Ron’s bed, trying to figure out why everyone thought they had the right to
tell him what to do. Draco hadn’t even allowed Harry to leave Grimmauld Place until he’d
cleaned up and glamours were cast. He had to admit, he did look more presentable now, and
at least Hermione and the Weasleys weren’t badgering him over his appearance.
They were badgering him about everything else, though. He’d been ordered to eat, his sanity
was again questioned regarding Snape’s book and the snakes, and Hermione and Ron had
been casting worried glances at him all morning so far.
His life hadn’t exactly been easier before the events of the last month, but it had certainly
been simpler.
“Okay, what’s going on?” Hermione demanded after casting privacy wards on the room.
“I found one of the missing Horcruxes,” Harry said bluntly.
“What? Where?” Ron asked, eyes wide.
“In the Chamber of Secrets,” Harry admitted.

“Where’s Ginny?” Hermione questioned worriedly. “She went with you, didn’t she? That’s
why she’s not here.”
“You took Ginny?!” Ron shouted.
“Ginny’s fine,” Harry snapped, irritated with his friends. “Yes, she went with me. Fred and
George are taking care of her. I checked on her this morning and she’s just fine.”
“Why would you take her? And without telling us?” Ron asked, sounding hurt.
“I did try telling you,” Harry pointed out. “You two didn’t want to listen to me.”
“You’re right,” Hermione said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“Well, it’s done now, Ginny and I are both fine, and I found one of the Horcruxes,” Harry
said, not wanting to dwell on it.
“You actually found one?” Ron asked in amazement.
Harry nodded, his excitement coming back. He quickly filled them in on his visit to the
Chamber of Secrets, glossing over Ginny’s reactions to the place. Hermione looked a little
suspicious, but she was sidetracked when Harry explained what he’d found.
“Have you read it, yet?” Hermione asked, when Harry was finished. “It could be dangerous.”
“I think it’s dangerous,” Harry said grimly. “But not in the way you mean. It contains all of
Voldemort’s detailed notes about Horcruxes. It’s not well-documented information and would
be dangerous in the hands of any Dark wizard who thought they’d like to give it a try.”
“Good thing Snape doesn’t know about it, then,” Ron said angrily.
Harry frowned thoughtfully, wondering if that was the reason why Dumbledore hadn’t trusted
Snape with information about the Horcruxes. Snape liked the Dark Arts, but surely he
wouldn’t want to split his soul into pieces?
“We’ve gone over this, Ron,” Hermione was saying, her tone suggesting she’d repeated the
words a thousand times already. “You were obviously right all along that we shouldn’t trust
Snape.”
“Is there anything else in the diary?” she asked Harry, not giving Ron a chance to say
anything more about Snape.
“Does it say where the other Horcruxes are?” Ron asked hopefully, his attention diverted.
“No,” Harry answered Ron. “It doesn’t say where they are, or even what they all were, as he
didn’t have them all at the time he hid the diary.”
“He had to have hidden it when he went back to Hogwarts to ask Dumbledore for a job,”
Hermione said thoughtfully.
“That’s what I think,” Harry agreed. “I think the stone on that shelf is somehow the curse on
the Defence Against the Dark Arts position as well.”
“It does make sense,” Hermione admitted. “And Voldemort definitely didn’t have all of his
Horcruxes made at that time. Dumbledore told you that he planned to make his last one when
he tried to kill you,” she said, looking at Harry sadly.
“That’s one thing that I’d really wanted to talk to you about last night,” Harry said. “When I
was talking to Ginny, we were wondering why Dumbledore had never asked her more about
the Chamber. I don’t know why he didn’t, and I started thinking about how I seem to be
working my way through this on instinct.”
He took a deep breath. “I know there’s a connection between me and Voldemort, and no one
seemed to understand it, or how it happened. I started wondering if Voldemort had somehow
tried turning me into a Horcrux,” he said quickly. “If I had a bit of Voldemort’s soul in me,
then it would explain why I seem to be able to work this out.”
“Oh, Harry!” Hermione exclaimed, horrified.
“It’s all right,” Harry said reassuringly. “I figured out that it’s not possible.”
“Are you sure?” Ron asked, hesitantly.
“I’m positive,” Harry said grimly. “I know more about making Horcruxes than I’d ever
wished to know. Voldemort couldn’t have transferred any of his soul, his life force, to me.”
“Do you know what did happen?” Hermione asked, watching Harry anxiously.
“Voldemort was prepared to kill me, then immediately create his Horcrux. I would have been
a ‘significant death’, as Dumbledore liked to phrase it,” Harry said sarcastically.
Hermione and Ron winced at Harry’s words and his tone, but continued to listen closely.
“Voldemort liked to possess his victims before killing them, particularly when it was one
intended for a Horcrux. I think ‘significant deaths’ were to be savoured,” Harry said in
disgust. “He would leave a bit of his magic within the person, knowing it would be returned
to him shortly. His own magic would combine with the victim’s, enhancing the strength of his
Horcrux when he created it immediately afterwards.”
“When Voldemort tried to kill me, my mother’s love for me, and hence her lingering magic,
interrupted the process. Her magic, likely combined with my own, caused the spell to
backlash upon Voldemort. He disappeared, but a bit of his magic was left in me,” Harry said
flatly.
“But you can’t counter the Killing Curse,” Hermione said slowly, trying to process what
Harry was saying. “How could his curse have backlashed?”
Harry took a deep breath. “Here’s my theory about what happened.”

“Voldemort came into the house. Killed my dad. My mum knew what was happening, and
likely cast some kind of spell to shield me. Voldemort entered the room, and she pleaded with
him for my life. Not her own. If Dumbledore’s concept of the power of love is anything to go
by, that probably strengthened her Shielding Charm. Voldemort wasn’t dealing with that,
however. His focus was still me. He kills her when she won’t get out of the way, not knowing
that by killing her, he’s just strengthened her spell yet again. He attempts to possess me,
leaving his bit of magic behind as he planned, but he hadn’t expected the pain of my mother’s
love surrounding me. That seriously weakens him. He gives up on possessing me, and casts
the Killing Curse, but my mum’s magic shields me. The Killing Curse is rebounded back to
his already weakened body . . . and he disappears.”
“That theory is a little wild,” Hermione said sceptically.
“It’s not as wild as I once would’ve thought,” Harry said bitterly.
He leaned forward, earnestly listing his points.
“I told Riddle that my mum died to save me, and he told me himself that it was a powerful
counter-charm. Whether it was actually a Shielding Charm or not, I have no idea, but
whatever she did, it obviously worked, since I lived.
“Dumbledore insisted that the ‘power the Dark Lord knows not’ is love. I’ve got it,
Voldemort doesn’t.
“Voldemort’s tried to possess me before. At the Ministry. He didn’t last long, and it was
extremely painful for him.
“We know the Killing Curse was rebounded. Whether it’s technically possible or not, it
happened.
“I’ve got Voldemort’s Parseltongue ability. A power I shouldn’t have.
“Yes,” Hermione said, a little impatiently. “We do know all of that. But—“
“Hermione,” Harry said sharply, cutting her off. “Listen to me. You’re right. I still don’t
know exactly how my mum’s counter-charm worked. I don’t understand that magic fully.
However, I know how Voldemort created his Horcruxes.”
Hermione, and Ron, were startled by his intensity. Harry was determined, though, to make
them understand.
“I’m absolutely positive that Voldemort possessed me. It’s how he works, and it’s the only
thing that’s ever made sense for how I ended up with some of his powers,” Harry said.
“So, you’re saying he intentionally transferred some of his powers to you?” Ron asked in
disbelief.
“Yes,” Harry said. “Remember, he didn’t know that part of the prophecy, so he wouldn’t have
known not to. He possessed me, transferring some of his magic to me. Not his soul,” he
emphasized. “He created the connection between us when he did it, but I don’t think it was
intentional.”
“Why would he do that?” Hermione asked plaintively. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“It does make sense if you’re Voldemort,” Harry insisted. “He values power above all else.
Possessing a person’s body means power over them. Transferring some of his own magic
over to the victim means control over their magic.”
“The connection between you?” Hermione questioned, her brow furrowed deeply.
“I think he had to open up a mental link to be able to transfer the magic,” Harry said. “But
then he possessed me. Everything would have happened quickly. When he encountered my
mum’s love surrounding me, he gave up on the idea of transferring his magic and simply
tried to kill me. Considering that he didn’t know we were linked until a year and a half ago, I
believe he thought he hadn’t been successful at all.”
“But he was successful,” Hermione said. “The two of you were linked at that point, and you
took on some of his magical powers.”
“Yes,” Harry said.
“But Harry,” Hermione said. “Everyone knows that you are a Parselmouth. It should have
been an obvious clue to Voldemort. Why didn’t he realize before that you were linked? Why
did it take him until you saw the snake bite Mr. Weasley to realize?”
Harry frowned, not having an explanation for that one.
“Because he wasn’t around second year when everyone found out,” Ron said. “It’s not
something people like to talk about. You Know Who probably didn’t know Harry was a
Parselmouth. Even after he found out about the Chamber being opened, he could’ve easily
thought he’d opened it for Harry himself, just like he’d opened it for Ginny. It’s not like he
communicated with his diary self, since Harry had already destroyed it – him – whatever.”
Hermione and Harry were both nodding at Ron’s explanation. “What about your scar?”
Hermione asked Harry.
Harry shrugged. “My scar is where the Killing Curse hit me,” he said.
Hermione shook her head slowly. “No, well, yes, but I think the scar is Voldemort’s
connection. It’s the actual mental link he forged,” she said. “You feel everything regarding
him through it.”
“So, if Harry got rid of his scar, he wouldn’t be connected to Voldemort anymore?” Ron
asked curiously. “Could he get rid of it?”
“I don’t know if he could,” Hermione admitted, peering at Harry’s forehead. “But if the scar
was gone, I think the link would be gone as well, and vice versa.”
“Well, there’s one more reason to defeat Voldemort,” Harry said. “I’d be happy to be rid of
this ugly scar. Let’s get rid of both and be done with it.”
“All right,” Hermione said briskly. “Now that we’ve sorted that out, let’s get back to
Voldemort’s diary. What else does it have to say?”
Harry finally reached for his rucksack and pulled out the diary, handing it to Hermione. For
someone who loved books, she was extremely hesitant to take it. “You’re sure it’s not
dangerous?” she asked nervously.
“It won’t hurt you, but it’ll probably scare you,” Harry said bluntly. “It’s morbid and quite
horrifying. Killing people and splitting up the soul is not a pleasant reading topic.”
Unable to control her curiosity, Hermione tentatively opened the diary, Ron looking over her
shoulder. “You’ve read all of it?” she asked, glancing up in time to see Harry nod.
“You won’t be able to read all of it yourself, though,” Harry said.
“What?” Hermione asked in confusion. “Why?”
“Everything related to Horcruxes in general is written in English,” Harry explained. “His

other notes are written in Parseltongue.”
Hermione gaped in surprise before she started flipping through the diary until she came
across pages with the odd markings.
“That’s Parseltongue?” Ron asked. “How can snakes have a language that can be written
down?”
Hermione was studying the pages with interest. “Any language can be written,” she said
absently. “But surely Voldemort knew that it could also be decoded. I think,” she added,
sounding unsure the longer she looked at the page.
She looked up at Harry. “You actually see words here?” she asked.
Harry shrugged, nodding. “It took me a bit to realize that I wasn’t seeing English,” he
admitted.
Hermione looked fascinated, and Harry was sure she was about to slide way off track. They’d
already done that once. “Everything we’ve been talking about, with Voldemort transferring
his powers and all that, it’s important because he transferred his ability to speak
Parseltongue,” he said.
“What else could he have transferred?” Ron wondered aloud.
“I don’t know,” Harry said impatiently. “The fact that he transferred his ability to speak
Parseltongue, though, was a huge fuck up on his part.”
“Language, Harry,” Hermione admonished automatically.

Harry rolled his eyes. “I don’t think it’s hit you, yet,” he said. “If I couldn’t speak
Parseltongue, I would never have been able to reach this diary – or that Horcrux,” he said
pointedly.
Hermione and Ron’s eyes widened in realization. “You’re the only one who could,”
Hermione breathed. “Not even Dumbledore . . . “
“Exactly,” Harry said. “It gets better . . . or worse,” he added, frowning. He shook his head to
clear it of that mental debate and pointed to the diary. “Anyway, that – everything written in
Parseltongue – explains Voldemort’s plans for his Horcruxes.”
“Like what?” Ron asked, perplexed. “You said he didn’t have all his Horcruxes when he left
this diary.”
“No, he didn’t,” Harry said. “But he had various plans for how he intended to protect them.
On the pages of that diary are lists of possible curses that are compatible with the
Horcruxes,” he said sarcastically.
“You mean, it’s all laid out for you?” Ron asked incredulously. “He just left you the
information?”
“Oh, honestly,” Hermione huffed. “He didn’t think anyone could read it. He was the only
Parselmouth in existence at the time,” Hermione said. “And being the last of the line of
Slytherin, he wouldn’t have expected any others. It was his key defence to protect his
secrets.”
“Exactly,” Harry said. “And it does make things easier, but it’s still not laid out for me,” he
warned.
“Why not, if it’s all right there?” Ron asked.
“Because we don’t know what curses he used on which Horcruxes,” Hermione answered,
understanding better than Ron. “For example, the mirror that Harry found, we’ll have to
research Voldemort’s curses, discover the counter-curses and learn how to detect them.”
She looked to Harry suddenly. “Does it say anything about how to destroy them?” she asked.
Harry nodded. “The hard part is getting to them, and dealing with Voldemort’s protections.
We already know that Voldemort’s notes aren’t going to be any help with finding the locket,”
he said pointedly. “This diary is mostly just a comprehensive book about Horcruxes, and in
Parseltongue are the methods he used personally to create his. It’s really not useful in terms
of locating the Horcruxes. But once we have them, they can be destroyed just like any life.”
Hermione shuddered. “You’ve essentially already killed him once, then,” she said.
Harry blinked. “I reckon I have,” he said in realization, thinking about the other diary.
“You really are the Chosen One,” Ron said, sounding bemused and not a little horrified.
“Ron!” Hermione admonished.

“It’s all right, Hermione,” Harry said grimly. “The same thing hit me as well.”
“Oh, Harry, I’m sorry it has to be you,” Hermione said sadly.
Harry rubbed at his temples. “I’m fine,” he said. “But while we’re talking about me having to
kill someone, I should point out that those curses and protection spells of Voldemort’s involve
the Dark Arts.”
As he had expected, he ended up arguing with Hermione about the Dark Arts, until he finally
started shouting at her. “Magic is magic! I don’t give a fuck whether you label it light, dark or
monkey magic! If it helps me defeat Voldemort, then I’m going to learn it and I’m going to
use it.”
Hermione and Ron stared at him in shock until Ron started sniggering. “Monkey magic?” he
questioned.
Harry opened his mouth, and then shut it again, shrugging. Hermione was back to glaring at
him again. “This is serious, Harry,” she snapped.
“Don’t you think I know that?” Harry asked angrily. “Aside from what I knew before, I’ve
been reading Dark Arts texts most of the night. From what I can tell, Dark magic is about
intent and arbitrary Ministry laws. I intend to kill Voldemort and I don’t really give a fuck
about the Ministry laws.”
He glared at her, his expression fierce. “You can start telling me that I’m no better than he is
when I start killing innocent people and attempt to take over the world.”
“You’d never do that!” Hermione exclaimed, horrified.
“Exactly,” Harry said angrily. “So back off about the Dark magic. If you don’t want to help
me with this, then just say so.”
“Of course I’m going to help,” Hermione said, but she did not look at all happy.
“So, what do we need to do?” Ron asked, hoping to smooth things over between his best
friends, who were still glaring at each other.
“I need help transcribing these spells into English,” Harry said, disgruntled. “They all need to
be researched. Then, from what I can understand, I need to learn how to perform the counter-
curses in Parseltongue. I was also hoping Hermione would read the diary later and see if I’ve
missed anything important.”
“You know I will,” Hermione said, sighing. “I’m sorry, Harry. I do know it’s Voldemort, not
you, but this is still a bit much and I just don’t like it.”
“I don’t like it, either,” Harry said. “It’s just what has to be done. I can’t tell anyone else
about the Horcruxes and I need your help with this.”
Hermione frowned. “Harry, why do you need to learn how to perform them in Parseltongue?”
she asked.
Harry sat back and closed his eyes. “Because it’s part of Voldemort’s protections,” he
answered flatly. “I think the diary I destroyed . . . recognized Voldemort’s magic in me . . . or
something. I’m not sure exactly why I could destroy it without injuring myself.”
“But Dumbledore?” Ron whispered.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut tighter. “I don’t know which of those spells goes with the ring,
but I found the one that matched with the locket’s protections. One spell, in Parseltongue, and
I could’ve retrieved it. Without Dumbledore ever having to drink that poison.”
“Harry,” Hermione said his name softly.
“I know, Hermione,” Harry said wearily, opening his eyes. “What’s done is done, and I can’t
do a damned thing about it. Finding Voldemort’s diary means I’ve got a few answers to my
past, but mostly it just cements the fact that I’m the only one who’s got a bloody chance of
destroying him without destroying myself.”
“It’s a little easier now, though, right?” Ron asked. Harry could hear the desperate need for
reassurance in Ron’s voice.
He shrugged. “Yeah, I reckon it’s a little easier,” he agreed. Not by much, though, he wanted
to add. Sure, it narrowed things down, but it hadn’t changed the fact that he still had to find
and destroy the damned things.
There was another fuss when Harry brought out the books he’d borrowed, but Hermione
quickly shut up when Harry said he’d gotten them from Remus. Eventually though, Harry
and Hermione set about transcribing the Parseltongue into English. Ron flipped through some
of the books on the pretext of looking up some of the curses, but mostly listened to what
Harry was reading. Harry read fairly slowly, considering he had to consciously switch it to
English, and Hermione easily kept up as she wrote it all down.
Once everything was translated, they began researching the curses. Harry felt a little
ridiculous, considering all he had to do was talk to Snape and he’d be able to teach Harry
everything he wanted to know about them. But aside from the fact that Harry was still a little
disturbed about going to Snape for information about the Dark Arts, Ron and Hermione
would be the ones with him when it came to the Horcruxes, so it seemed prudent that the
three of them be familiar with the curses they might come across. And Snape wasn’t about to
teach Ron and Hermione anything.
They worked all day, only taking a break for lunch and finally calling it quits when it was
time for dinner. “Harry, you do know it’s going to take me at least a couple days to work
through all this information,” Hermione said as they packed away all the books in a charmed
trunk that she produced.
“I know,” Harry said wearily. “But we’ve researched most of the curses he might’ve used to
guard his Horcruxes. We won’t need the others until we’re ready to actually destroy them.”
“Is there a reason why you need to know these other ones sooner?” Hermione asked
suspiciously.
“I’m planning to go to Godric’s Hollow tomorrow,” Harry admitted. He had every hope of
being able to find the last Horcrux.
“Tomorrow?” Ron asked in surprise.
“Well, then, we’re coming with you,” Hermione said firmly when Harry nodded.
“That’s what I figured,” Harry said dryly. He reckoned he’d tell them about Ginny, the twins
and Remus the next day. He was thanking Merlin that he didn’t have to tell them about
Draco. He’d already been arguing with them enough.
“So, are we done for now?” Ron asked. “I’m hungry.”
“You’re always hungry,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes. “Harry looks like he could use
sleep more than food,” she added in concern.
“I’m having a long week.” Harry agreed tiredly.
A battle on Sunday. Telling Snape about the Malfoys on Monday. Tuesday hadn’t been too
bad since he’d gotten out of the work moving into Grimmauld Place. Delivering the article to
Luna and training on Wednesday. Full, painful, day of training Thursday. Visit to the
Chamber on Friday. Up all night reading Voldemort’s bloody diary. Researching all day.
He blinked dazedly. Long week was a huge understatement. No wonder Snape and Draco had
tried keeping him home.
“Harry,” Hermione called back his attention. “You do know that you’ve got a birthday and a
wedding coming up this week as well, don’t you?” she reminded him.
“This week?” Harry said in surprise.
“Mate, today is Saturday, your birthday is on Wednesday, and the wedding is next Saturday,”
Ron said. “Ring any bells?”
“It’s been almost two months since we left Hogwarts,” Harry said dazedly. So much had
happened in such a short period of time. He was both surprised that it was already the end of
July, but also amazed that it wasn’t Christmas time with all that had happened.
“It has been a busy summer,” Hermione conceded.
“Yeah,” Harry said, adding you don’t know the half of it in his head. He refused to think about
what the next week might bring.
*****
“Why are we going to Fred and George’s flat?” Ron asked.
“I’ll tell you when we get inside,” Harry said. He’d met up with Ron and Hermione at the
Burrow, and said he had to stop at the twins’ before heading to Godric’s Hollow.
He didn’t even bother knocking and walked right in when they arrived, much to Ron and
Hermione’s surprise. Harry had been there so often, though, that the twins had simply
adjusted the wards to automatically allow him entrance.
Ginny and the twins greeted them cheerfully, and it took Ron and Hermione a little longer to
notice that Remus was there as well.
“Harry, what’s going on?” Hermione asked warily, after making sure Ginny was all right.
“Well, Ron here decided to give out information without asking me if he could,” Harry said
pointedly, watching Ron blush a bright red. “So, after a lot of arguing and nagging, we now
have company on this trip today.”
“I’m surprised Harry’s letting you come. I didn’t think you were such a nag,” Hermione said
to Ginny bemusedly.
Ginny grinned. “Oh, I think only someone extra close to Harry could get away with nagging
him,” she said.
Harry scowled at her. “Shut it, Ginny,” he snapped.
“Harry, don’t you think it’s bad enough that you took Ginny with you to the Chamber?” Ron
asked angrily.
Harry stared at him incredulously. “You’re the one who told her about Godric’s Hollow,” he
pointed out.
“But that was before,” Ron protested. “I didn’t bloody know that you were going to
traumatize her first.”
Ginny jumped in and began arguing with Ron and Hermione. Fingertips to his temples, Harry
listened wearily. He sighed softly when he felt Draco behind him, rubbing the back of his
neck.
“Has it been that rough with them?” Remus asked quietly, as Fred and George jumped into
the fray in Harry and Ginny’s defence.
“We’ve had to deal with some really difficult topics and we went over some more of it this
morning before we came here,” Harry admitted. “Ron and Hermione are just feeling the
tension as well.”
“Another headache?”
“Yeah.”
Remus smiled gently. “I think you might find a potion in the loo that will help,” he suggested.
“I will handle this group for you.”
Harry smiled gratefully in return, slipping into the loo with Draco. After a Pain-Relieving
Potion and several minutes of languid snogging, Harry was feeling much better.
“I suppose we should get back out there,” Harry said, sighing.
“You know you don’t have to do this today,” Draco said, eyeing Harry in concern.
“The sooner the better, Draco,” Harry said. “I don’t even know if I’ll find anything there. If I
don’t, it means I’ll have to keep looking, which means more time. Besides,” he added, rolling
his eyes. “Everyone’s already here so we might as well get this over with.”
“I’ll be with you,” Draco said. “The others already agreed to cover for me, if you need me.”
Harry tilted his head curiously, a smile playing at his lips. “Who knew that Draco Malfoy
could be so caring,” he said softly.
Draco looked flustered. “I’m just protecting what’s mine,” he said irritably.
“Your protective side is driving me mad, but I like being yours,” Harry said before kissing
Draco gently.
“Well, good,” Draco said, not looking any less flustered.
Feeling immeasurably better, Harry went out to face the others again. He had no idea what
Remus had said, but Harry’s friends were definitely not arguing anymore. In fact, they were
downright subdued.
“Impressive,” Harry said to Remus in admiration.
Remus smiled, clearly amused. “I simply gave them some gentle reminders,” he said.
Fred snorted. “Yeah, right. I feel properly chastised and now I’m wondering where I put my
half-finished essay,” he said.
“I do have the pressing need to turn mine in as well,” George agreed. “Despite it being a few
years late.”
“I have to admit, his lectures are a lot more effective than mum’s,” Ron said glumly. Ginny
nodded in agreement.
Hermione rolled her eyes at them. “What they’re all not saying is that Remus chewed us out
for treating you badly when you’ve got enough to be dealing with,” she said apologetically.
Harry shrugged uncomfortably. “I’m just tired of being questioned at every turn,” he said.
“Whether anyone likes it or not, including me, I’m doing what has to be done.”
“I’ll try to be better,” Hermione said quietly and the others nodded in agreement.
“Thank you,” Harry said simply.
*****
The next couple of hours were not the easiest that Harry had ever had to live through.
Visiting the graveyard where his parents were buried hit him hard, and he wondered if Draco
had been right that this wasn’t the day to do this. He didn’t think any day would be a good
day.
Actually seeing the gravestones with his parents’ names was an incredible blow. He didn’t
understand why it should be so hard, considering he’d known they were gone. He’d heard
them die every time the Dementors were around. Hell, he’d even seen their ghosts, or
whatever, in the graveyard near the Riddle Manor. Somehow, this was just as hard when he’d
thought it would be at least a little easier.
He’d been shocked to learn that there was a gravestone for Sirius as well, especially as there
had been no body. Remus said simply that this was where Sirius had wanted to be buried.
Body or not, Remus had granted this for him.
Harry traced their names, tears coursing down his cheeks, his heart aching. Remus, Hermione
and Ginny had brought flowers. The scent filled the air Harry was breathing.
Surely this was enough emotion to kill Voldemort, because Harry felt like it was going to
swallow him whole. He knelt on the grass, head bowed.
The air shimmered around him, and Harry was suddenly sheltered within the folds of the
Invisibility Cloak.
“Harry?”
“It hurts, Draco,” Harry whispered hoarsely.
“I’m sorry, Harry,” Draco said helplessly.
Harry realized that Draco’s eyes were bright with unshed tears, and somehow . . . somehow
that made him feel better. Draco had insulted Harry in regards to his parents many, many
times in the past. Harry knew that Draco would never do so again. Cocooned in the
Invisibility Cloak, Draco simply held him.
Eventually, Harry pulled himself together and made to leave. He was standing with Remus
and Ginny, Draco’s hand resting in the small of his back.
“Where are the others?” Harry asked quietly.
“I sent them ahead to a small pub to wait for us,” Remus said.
Harry looked at Ginny questioningly.
“Ron and Hermione think I’m here consoling you,” she said with a watery smile. “Somehow,
you look to be in much better shape than me, though.”
Harry gave her a faint smile. “I happen to know a vain someone who knows a lot of glamour
spells and places a lot of importance on appearance,” he said.
Ginny laughed. It sounded a little shaky, but it was a laugh, nonetheless. They were both
startled when the air shimmered, and Draco pulled Ginny under the cloak.
Harry shook his head in amusement, fairly certain that Draco was now cleaning Ginny up to
look presentable. It wouldn’t do for Harry to go back to the others looking neat, and for
Ginny to look like a wreck.
“Are you all right, Harry?” Remus asked, concerned.
Harry stepped closer and gave the man a tight hug. “I should be asking you that question,
too,” he said, his voice muffled.
“I’ve been here many times,” Remus whispered. “This visit was for you, not for me.”
“I didn’t think it would be this hard,” Harry said.
“It will always be difficult,” Remus said. “It gets easier to bear, though, with time.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” Harry said softly, pulling back to look at him.
Remus smiled gently. “You’ve chosen a very smart young man to be with,” he said.
Harry looked to the spot where he’d last seen Draco and Ginny and then looked back to the
gravestones in the distance. “Do you think they’d be happy for me?” he asked.
“Harry, all they ever wanted was for you to be happy,” Remus said. “If you are happy, then
they would be happy for you.”
“But—” Harry couldn’t figure out how to say what he wanted to, particularly as it wasn’t safe
to say certain things. He was with a boy. He was with a Malfoy. Would his parents and Sirius
really be happy with that?
Remus seemed to understand, even without him saying the words. He looked incredibly sad,
but he was smiling when Harry turned back to him.
“I admit, if they were here, James and Sirius would likely be doing a lot of yelling, insisting
that you be checked for Imperius and potions and whatever else they could think of,” Remus
said, his voice filled with fond amusement. “Lily, though, would accept your young man with
open arms.”
“She would?” Harry asked in surprise.
“She would,” Remus said, nodding. “She would see what I see. That you are happy with each
other.” His smile widened, and his eyes crinkled. “Lily was also smart enough that she would
see the stubbornness in the two of you and she’d know that it would be futile to try to
discourage your relationship. James and Sirius were stubborn in their own right, and it would
take them longer to recognize that they were outmatched. You do make a rather formidable
pair.”
Harry shrugged, but he was smiling faintly as Ginny appeared again. His smile widened
when he saw that she definitely looked better physically, all traces of her tears were gone, but
she appeared bewildered.
“All right, Ginny?”
“Who knew,” she said simply.
“You just remember that he’s mine,” Harry said, grinning now.
Ginny’s face twisted bemusedly. “I don’t want him,” she said. “But, you know, I want
someone who cares for me as much as he obviously cares for you. Maybe I should branch out
into Slytherins as well.”
Harry laughed, feeling the warm, comforting weight of Draco’s hand on his back again.
Remus was chuckling, too. “There is something to be said for Slytherins,” he said in
agreement.
Harry and Ginny looked at him in surprise, but then Harry’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Remus?”
“I think it is time for us to join the others,” Remus said mildly, but his lips were still tilted in
a mischievous smile.
Harry shook off suspicions of Remus and Severus as Ginny looped her arm through his.
“Ginny, what are you doing?” he asked.
“Making it look good,” Ginny said pleasantly. “Don’t worry, I have permission.”
“You have permission from who?” he asked incredulously.
“From someone who doesn’t want Ron and Hermione getting suspicious, of course,” she said
easily.
Harry’s shoulder was squeezed reassuringly, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about this. It was
a little bizarre to be seen with his ex-girlfriend, with his boyfriend’s permission, especially
considering who his boyfriend was.
“We’re not together,” he said, needing to make that clear. “And I’m not kissing you.”
“Ah, but you’re so good at kissing,” Ginny teased. She suddenly squealed and jumped away
from Harry.
Harry smirked at her. “I think you were just warned,” he said.
“I was just joking,” Ginny grumbled good-naturedly.
They paused at the gates to the cemetery, and Harry looked back. He knew his life was
bizarre, but he was here. He was alive. It hurt like hell that his parents and Sirius weren’t here
with him, but he vowed anew to avenge their deaths.
He realized he must have spoken his thoughts aloud when Remus spoke. “Avenge their
deaths,” he said quietly. “But remember that they would want you to live and be happy.”
Harry looked at Remus, blinking slowly. “They wouldn’t want either of us to spend all our
time mourning and being sad,” he said.
Remus closed his eyes for a moment, but then he met Harry’s gaze again and nodded in
acknowledgement.
Taking a deep breath, Harry looked at Ginny. “So, shall we go find my other self-appointed
keepers?” he asked.
“Sure,” she said, reaching out to hold his hand.
Harry looked down at their linked hands as they began walking. “I think we need to discuss
which Slytherins interest you,” he said dryly.
“Are you serious?” Ginny asked.
Harry shrugged. “What do you think of Blaise Zabini?” he asked.
Ginny blinked. “The bloke who was always in Slughorn’s gatherings?” she asked.
Harry nodded.
Ginny tilted her head thoughtfully. “Well, I don’t know much about him or where he stands
politically, but he is good looking. He seems rather moody, though. Oh, wait! I like dark-
haired, good looking, moody boys,” she said, grinning cheekily.
Remus chuckled and Harry received a slap on his shoulder that he assumed meant Draco was
amused as well.
“Shut it,” Harry grumbled good-naturedly. “We’re not discussing me. I’m trying to figure out
if you’d be interested in going out with Zabini.”
Ginny looked at him askance. “Do you happen to know something about him that I don’t?”
she asked.
“I might,” Harry admitted.
Ginny nodded, knowing it probably wasn’t safe to even be saying as much as they were.
Remus gestured to point out that they were almost to the pub where the others were waiting.
“Wasn’t he seeing Daphne Greengrass?” Ginny asked, pausing before they went in.
“Yes, but he’s not anymore. But how could you know this?” Harry exclaimed. “Am I the only
one who doesn’t know these things?”
Ginny sniggered. “Probably,” she said. “You do tend to be rather clueless when it comes to
the dating scene. How you’ve managed your current situation is beyond my understanding.”
“Hmpfh!” Harry huffed. “I’ll have you know that I’ve managed just fine.”
Ginny’s grin was mischievous. “So, you’re saying he didn’t have to jump you in a room full
of people to get you to notice him?”
“Ginny!” Harry exclaimed, feeling his cheeks heat up, knowing that Draco was listening, let
alone Remus. He wasn’t about to tell her that he’d essentially jumped Draco in the same
manner, but he was sure Draco had just made the connection. He could only hope that Draco
took it as a good thing that he’d learned from his ex-girlfriend how to snag a boyfriend.
Thinking of it that way, he smiled ruefully. His bloody boyfriend was probably laughing his
arse off under the Invisibility Cloak.
Ginny was laughing as they stepped into the small pub. Harry held the door open, feeling
Draco slip into the room, Remus following. They quickly spotted their friends sitting at a
large table in the corner of the room. Fred and George were grinning at them, but Ron and
Hermione were looking astounded.
“Hey, Harry!” Fred called cheerfully, as they neared. “You can sit by me.”
Harry eyed him warily, wondering what kind of joke was being played. He glanced
questioningly at Ron and Hermione to see if they knew.
“I don’t think it’s a trick, mate,” Ron said, rolling his eyes at his brothers’ antics. “They’ve
just been having fun waiting by making up stories about you and your imaginary friend.”
“I have an imaginary friend now?” Harry asked, arching a brow at the twins and watching as
Fred made a dramatic show of pulling Harry’s chair away from the table. He was fairly
certain Draco was being given the opportunity to take the seat next to George.
“I’ve told them it’s inappropriate,” Hermione said in disapproval.
“Ah, you’re no fun, Hermione,” George said. “C’mon, Harry, I’m sure your friend would
want you to sit by him.”
Ginny was giggling and Remus was listening with amusement as they took the two empty
chairs between Hermione and Fred. Shaking his head, Harry allowed Fred to seat him at the
table. He was reassured as he felt Draco’s leg brush against his own.
“Is there a particular reason why I have an imaginary friend?” Harry asked curiously,
wondering what kind of stories they’d been making up to make it possible for Draco to be
able to sit next to him.
“Oh, it’s ridiculous,” Hermione huffed dismissively. “They were simply bored.” She eyed
Harry critically. “I didn’t expect you to come back so . . . happy,” she said.
Harry shrugged. “I’ve just been talking with Remus and Ginny,” he said.
“So, what now?” Ron asked.
Harry felt his light-heartedness swiftly vanishing again. He worked to pull himself out of
gloomy emotions, simply to be yanked back down again. He had to wonder why he hadn’t
gone completely insane yet.
“Harry, did you actually have a plan?” Hermione asked, after Harry had surreptitiously cast a
Silencing Charm around their table.
“Do I ever have a plan?” he shot back sarcastically.
“Harry,” Hermione admonished.
“Hermione, don’t start again,” Harry said warningly.
“Er, Harry, I’m not even sure it makes sense to be here,” Ron said, glancing warily around
the table at the others, not wanting to reveal too much.
“Ron’s right,” Hermione said. “He would’ve been done at Godric’s Hollow when . . . well,
when you were little. He’s had no reason to come back since he . . . finished things the other
way.” Her eyes were darting about as she carefully chose her phrasing.
Harry sighed heavily. “I know. I should’ve been the last, I wasn’t, and this is actually a place
of failure for him.”
“So, why are we here, then?” Hermione asked. “We have other places that should be checked
that are much more likely. What about the orphanage?”
“It has to be here somewhere,” Harry said, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
“The orphanage was significant, but he’s already dealt with that through the one in the cave.
And this place is more significant than any place we’ve ever discussed. Godric’s Hollow just
fits,” he said stubbornly.
They’d discussed many possible locations over the months since Dumbledore had first told
him about the Horcruxes, but none of them made as much sense to Harry as Godric’s Hollow.
“Remus,” Harry said suddenly. “Has anyone been to my parent’s house since Voldemort
returned?”
“Harry, there isn’t a house there any longer. The place was practically destroyed when
Voldemort attacked,” Remus answered quietly.
“I know that,” Harry said impatiently. “Hagrid told me. And how the Muggles were
ransacking everything afterwards. But has anyone been there since Voldemort returned?” he
asked again.
Remus frowned at Harry. “I don’t know, Harry,” he said. “I doubt that there’s been any reason
for anyone to go there, as the property is yours to do as you wish now that you are old
enough. I do know that the property hasn’t even been warded for many, many years.”
“Dumbledore would’ve checked, Harry,” Hermione said in a reasonable tone.
“He didn’t check enough into where Ginny and I went,” Harry pointed out, ignoring his
shock that he owned the property. “And I don’t think anyone would’ve been there since he
died.”
“Well, that’s true,” Hermione agreed.
“Voldemort could’ve easily moved it after Dumbledore died, and I’m more sure than ever
that he did,” Harry insisted. “This is significant, it’s Gryffindor, and he’d see it as a way of
making up for his failure. It’s also a way of getting revenge on me, even if he believes he’s
the only one who knows it. It brings everything together.”
“What if he hasn’t moved it yet?” Ron asked.
Harry shook his head, frustrated with the situation and trying to explain hunches he didn’t
fully understand himself. “He might not have,” he agreed reluctantly. “But I just . . . he
would’ve done it soon after Dumbledore’s death. A way of celebrating,” he said bitterly. “It’s
just how he works.”
“I find it a little disturbing when you can think like Voldemort,” Hermione said, wrinkling her
nose in disgust. “But it does make sense,” she grudgingly admitted.
“Wouldn’t this make even more sense if we just went there and checked it out instead of
talking about it?” Ron asked.
“The property is on the outskirts of town, sheltered for privacy,” Remus said. “We can eat
lunch and then we’ll go there.”
*****
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Notes

Chapter Twenty-Eight
They left the pub, walking slowly through the town. Harry, Ron and Hermione were
technically looking for any clues, but Harry found himself wondering about what it would
have been like to grow up in this quaint little village. It reminded him of Hogsmeade in some
ways, despite it being inhabited by Muggles as well as witches and wizards.
He found it a little disconcerting to realize that he was recognized here. He received several
cordial nods, many of them greeting him as “Mr. Potter”. Everyone was kind and respectful,
though, and no one made an elaborate fuss over his appearance.
Remus led them down an overgrown drive, sheltered by a wealth of trees, until they came out
into a large meadow-like area. Surrounded by trees on all sides, the property was indeed
sheltered. The drive wound along the edge of the clearing, leading to what had obviously
once been a house.
Harry was surprised to see flowers growing in what must have been gardens of his mum’s at
one time. Aside from the unkempt lawns and gardens, the area was beautiful, and he couldn’t
help but notice that there was plenty of room to play Quidditch.
The house itself was almost levelled and destroyed the sense of peaceful tranquillity of the
property. Drawn to the house where he’d spent the first fifteen months of his life, Harry
slowly walked towards the ruins. He walked up onto the still-intact front porch, but there was
no door to enter. Some walls were still standing, a portion of a staircase were still in place.
Mostly it was just a pile of wood and stone.
It was all . . . wrong.
Harry was abruptly jerked from his reveries when the air shimmered a little in front of him.
Draco had lifted the cloak only enough to speak. “The Mark is burning,” he hissed. “I think
he knows you’re here.”
Harry didn’t stop to question Draco. He’d felt the tingle of magic as he stepped onto the
porch, but had dismissed it as old wards on the house. He whirled to face the others, who had
respectfully kept their distance, instantly slipping into battle mode.
“I think I triggered a ward that let Voldemort know I’m here,” Harry said quickly.
“Then we’ve got to get out of here!” Ginny exclaimed.
“No, it means what I want is here,” Harry said sharply.
“Harry! You don’t know that!” Hermione shouted anxiously.
“You’re right. I don’t know that,” Harry shouted back. “But I can’t afford to risk it.”
“Disillusion them,” Draco hissed close to Harry’s ear. “Now!”
Harry blinked once as that registered, then issued the order to the others. While they cast the
spells, Harry quickly penned a note to McGonagall, snagging parchment and pen from
Hermione.
Possible attack at Godric’s Hollow. Now!
He called for Fawkes and sent it. It wasn’t a moment too soon as several loud cracks were
heard and Death Eaters popped into the clearing. Harry’s scar exploded with pain and he
knew that Voldemort had arrived with them.
Harry was more sure than ever that a Horcrux was hidden here. Here – where Voldemort had
killed his parents and tried to kill him.
He’d managed to control his anger earlier, his mind taken up with mourning instead. Now, he
could feel the white-hot rage settling over him as he took in the sight of Voldemort and at
least twenty of his Death Eaters.
He watched them glancing warily around the clearing, looking for him and anybody who
might be with him.
“Where is he?” someone shouted.
“He’s here,” Voldemort said coldly. “I can feel him.”

Harry’s heart was pounding. His head was throbbing agonizingly. He wasn’t prepared to fight
Voldemort yet. He only had to figure out how to get rid of him, keeping himself and his
friends alive in the process. Indeed, that was all he had to do, he thought sarcastically. He
wished he had an actual clue as to how to go about accomplishing that. His eyes darted about
wildly, searching for anything that might help until the Order could arrive.
Suddenly, a bright shower of noisy fireworks went off behind the Death Eaters. Harry took
the opportunity and quickly shot a couple of Stunning Spells at them, moving swiftly away
afterwards. It appeared most of the others had done the same, and several of the Death Eaters
had gone down, unprepared for the attack.
“Harry Potter! I know you are here!” Voldemort shouted furiously. “Come out and show
yourself!”
Tempted as Harry was, he remained silent, watching and waiting.
“Ah, is poor wittle Potter too scared to fight like a man,” a voice mocked, and Harry’s
nostrils flared angrily. “Playing hide-and-seek like a child.”
“Quiet!” Voldemort ordered Bellatrix. “Potter, I refuse to play these games with you.”
Another loud barrage of fireworks went off, this time on either side of the group of Death
Eaters. Harry and his friends shot off more Stunning Spells, and he quickly moved several
feet away so he wasn’t giving away his location.
“Enough of the childish games,” Voldemort said coldly. He swished his wand and their
Disillusionment Charms were lifted.
Harry darted his eyes about the clearing. They were all okay, but they were spaced out widely
around the Death Eaters. Remus suddenly Apparated. He reappeared next to Ginny, grabbed
her quickly and they both reappeared beside Harry. The others followed suit, Apparating to
Harry’s location.
Voldemort had held up a hand to stay his Death Eaters and was laughing mockingly at Harry.
“What a pathetic little group of followers you have,” he said.
Harry glared at him defiantly, taking a step forward. He hoped all he had to do was stall
Voldemort until the Order members, and hopefully Aurors, arrived. “I don’t have followers, I
have friends,” he ground out.
Voldemort laughed cruelly, as did most of the Death Eaters. “I would have thought you were
old enough now to know that friends are useless. Power is what matters, Harry Potter.”
“I have power you will never know of!” Harry shouted recklessly.
“You obviously know nothing about power,” Voldemort said coolly. “You are a pathetic child
playing foolish games.”
Harry snorted derisively. “Games? I’m not the one playing follow the fucking leader like a
blind idiot,” he sneered, his gaze flicking to the Death Eaters standing one step behind, on
either side of Voldemort.
The Death Eaters shifted restlessly, angry with Harry’s taunt. Voldemort stilled them, once
again simply lifting a hand in warning. His slitted, red gaze narrowed as he glared at Harry.
“Crucio!”
Without warning, with a bare flick of Voldemort’s wand, Harry’s body exploded with pain.
He screamed in agony. Fire was flowing through his veins and his scar was a brand, searing
itself through his skull.
Then, he was suddenly aware again. Aware that he was lying on the ground and didn’t want
to be. He pulled his feet under him and crouched, not positive his legs would hold him yet, as
he took stock of his surroundings.
Squinting against the sunlight and the pain, his eyes darted to either side of him. His friends
were physically all right, but they all looked deathly afraid and appeared to be frozen in
position. He wasn’t sure if it was literal or not.
Taking in the sound of the Death Eaters’ malicious laughter, his eyes flicked to them to notice
all the wands trained steadily on his friends, preventing them from taking any action.
He looked up into the red-eyed gaze of his tormentor and slowly stood, surprised that he was
still in possession of his wand. Voldemort was simply toying with him.
“Why are you here, Potter?” he demanded.
Harry knew what Voldemort wanted to know, but he wasn’t about to tell Voldemort that he
knew about the Horcruxes. “This is my property!” he shouted, his voice no less furious for its
hoarseness. “You took it away from me once, and I’m here to take it back again! I will be
seventeen in three days and finally old enough to rightfully claim it.”
“You will not live to see the age of seventeen,” Voldemort said, smiling nastily, seemingly
satisfied with Harry’s answer.
“You’re wrong!” Harry shouted, glaring in defiance. “I won’t let you win!”
“I am the master,” Voldemort hissed. “I am the only one who could possibly win with the
powers I hold.”
Harry heard the others shifting behind him, and it took him a moment to realize that
Voldemort had shifted to Parseltongue instead of English.
Harry’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I told you just a minute ago,” he hissed in Parseltongue
himself. “I have powers you know nothing of. Kill me and you will never learn them.”
He could see the flash of surprise in Voldemort’s red eyes. “I was informed correctly,” he
hissed. “You do have the power of the snake language.”
Harry smirked viciously. “Yes,” he hissed. “You did not believe it? You wished to believe you
were the only one with power?”
He paused for a moment before continuing, deciding to take the risk. “You will be the foolish
one if you attempt to kill me again without learning the powers that I hold. I know the full
prophecy that you do not. What other powers does the Chosen One, Harry Potter, have?” he
taunted.
Voldemort glared at him in silence, debating the truth of Harry’s words. Harry concentrated
on reinforcing his Occlumency shields, having many secrets he wanted kept hidden. He
wasn’t worried, however, about Voldemort detecting a lie, because he’d told the truth. It was
beside the point that Voldemort wouldn’t consider Harry’s “powers” worth learning. He only
had to think they were worth learning.
He felt Voldemort’s probing presence at his mental shields as they continued to glare at each
other, even as loud cracks could be heard throughout the area. Duels broke out immediately,
shields were erected and Voldemort was furious.
“I do not know how you called for help,” Voldemort hissed. “But I will be back for you, Harry
Potter.”
Voldemort, and then his followers, Apparated. As soon as they were gone, Harry fell to his
knees, retching. Hands were there almost instantly to support him. He was grateful since he
likely would’ve fallen on his face, as he was attempting to clutch at his stomach and put
pressure on his throbbing scar at the same time.
When he’d finished emptying the contents of his stomach, he rested back on his heels,
moaning miserably. Eyes closed, he heard someone cast a quick Scourgify, then Hermione
was talking to him.
“Harry, are you all right?” she asked urgently. She had a cool cloth, wiping his face
soothingly. Harry still had a hand pressing against his scar, and she gently pried his hand
away, replacing it with another cold cloth.
“Harry, Remus has potions for you,” she said. “I just need you to focus a little and drink
them. Then you’ll start feeling better.”
Harry obediently swallowed the contents of the vials when they were placed at his lips,
carefully tilting his head back. He didn’t want to move and he still didn’t want to open his
eyes. The sunlight was already bright enough through closed eyelids.
As the pain slowly receded, Harry began to focus on his surroundings again. He could hear a
great deal of rustling fabric and quiet murmuring. He opened his eyes, squinting against the
sunlight. With a groan, he realized that he’d been sick in front of at least fifty people.
“All right now, mate?” Ron asked worriedly, his face ashen and his freckles standing out in
stark relief.
“Yeah,” Harry mumbled. He moved to push to his feet and Ron helped haul him up and
support him.
Several people were there to talk to him, including McGonagall, Moody, Shacklebolt and
Tonks.
“Mr. Potter, are you ready to explain exactly what happened here?” McGonagall asked.
“Your group refuses to talk,” Moody growled irritably.
“Even Remus won’t talk,” Tonks said, sounding just as irritable. Harry was happy to see that
her hair was at least still pink.
He looked around at the group he’d come with. They looked severely shaken up, but they
were all standing resolutely with Harry. Ron and Hermione were on either side of him. Ginny
was standing between Fred and George on the other side of Ron and Remus was standing on
the other side of Hermione. He’d be willing to bet that Draco was close by as well.
“Are you all right?” he asked them.
“We’re all fine, Harry,” Remus emphasized. “Only touched by shock.”
Harry nodded before taking a deep breath, mentally shifting his focus. He looked past
McGonagall, and those directly in front of him, to the crowd of people who were watching
him, anxiously waiting for news.
“I need to thank everyone for coming so quickly,” he said, loudly enough for everyone to
hear.
“Was that really You Know Who?” someone shouted out.
“Yes, that was Voldemort,” Harry said grimly, listening to all the gasps and watching as many
flinched. “He laid a trap for me. I triggered a ward that let him know I was here. As soon as I
realized, I sent a message to Professor McGonagall.”
He explained how they’d Disillusioned themselves and tried to keep Voldemort and the Death
Eaters distracted. Someone asked, condescendingly, how fireworks could help against Death
Eaters. Harry couldn’t help thinking they’d obviously not witnessed that part of the battle in
Hogsmeade.
“Fred, George,” Harry said calmly. “A demonstration, please.”
They quickly Disillusioned each other. “On thirty,” George said. They then deliberately
began counting aloud. They counted aloud to ten, then silence reigned in the clearing as
everyone waited.
Harry smirked as he watched many of the Order members jump when simultaneous
explosions went off on either side of the group. When he had everyone’s attention again, he
explained how they’d shot off stunners while the Death Eaters were distracted.
“You have rather unique methods, Potter,” Shacklebolt said, sounding impressed.
Harry nodded in acknowledgement of the compliment. “When you’re dealing with

Voldemort, you learn to improvise if you want to stay alive,” he said.
“Did you rehearse this kind of attack?” McGonagall asked, her brow furrowed.
“No,” Harry said, shaking his head. “We just work well together. We’ve all learned from
Remus, and then we’ve all done extra training together in the DA. We were only successful
for so long, though, before Voldemort found us out.”
Ironically, Harry was fairly certain that Draco had been the one to actually set off the first set
of fireworks. And it had also been Draco who warned him, and suggested the Disillusionment
Charms. Yet, he wouldn’t get any of that credit.
Harry described the events that had happened next, deliberately leaving out the part of the
conversation conducted in Parseltongue. He explained how he’d only been trying to keep
Voldemort talking until help arrived, as they weren’t prepared to actually fight him.
“Well, it was the shortest battle I’ve been involved in,” Tonks said brightly.
Harry smirked. “Voldemort laid this trap for me and he didn’t expect for me to be able to call
for help. Without all of you arriving, I would have been in serious trouble.” He looked to
McGonagall. “Professor, could I speak to you privately for a moment before everyone
leaves?”
He received a lot of frowns for his request, but he ignored them as he stepped away from
everyone and erected a quick Silencing Charm around him and McGonagall.
“What is it, Mr. Potter?” she asked, letting her concern show.
“Voldemort will come back here, and I can’t allow that to happen,” he said quickly. “I don’t
want everyone knowing that this place is important, but I need protection wards placed. I’m
hoping you can help with that. You’d know who could be trusted to help place the wards and
who would be best to do the work.”
“What do you wish to tell everyone?” she questioned.
Harry shrugged. “The same story I gave Voldemort will work. I’m turning seventeen in a few
days, and I’m here to reclaim the property that is rightfully mine,” he said.
McGonagall’s eyebrows rose. “And that is not why you are here?”
Harry shook his head, his expression solemn. “No, it’s not, but it’s extremely important that
no one knows that,” he said. “I just managed to bluff Voldemort and I need to keep him in the
dark as long as possible. The wards need to be up on this place, now, because he will be
back.”
“Harry, I do hope you know what you are doing,” she said.
Harry gave her a lopsided smile. “I’ve got a lot of support,” he said. “So, even when I don’t
know what I’m doing, someone else does.”
McGonagall chuckled. “You do have a very loyal group behind you,” she said.
“Which includes you,” Harry said sincerely.
She appeared startled for a moment, but then she nodded in acknowledgement. “I will gather
the appropriate people and get started on the wards immediately,” she said.
“Thank you,” Harry said, before breaking the Silencing Charm. He watched as McGonagall
took charge, dismissing all those she didn’t need and requesting certain people to stay and
help. He was happy to note that he knew, personally, everyone that stayed.
Remus went with them to help, and Harry approached his friends, who were now all sitting
on the porch. He sat down with them and breathed a sigh of relief when he felt Draco brush
up against him. He erected a Silencing Charm around the porch to be on the safe side before
anyone spoke.
“Bloody hell, mate!” Ron exploded as soon as the spell was in place. “I thought watching you
confront Lucius Malfoy was bad last year! That was nothing on this!”
Hermione and Ginny nodded in agreement. Harry shrugged. “I had to deal with Voldemort
that night as well,” he said quietly. “This was nothing, really, compared to what happened
then. We’ve gotten off fairly easy, all things considered.”
“This was easy,” Ginny said faintly.
“Yeah,” Harry said, shrugging again. “None of us were hurt. We didn’t have to duel at all.”
“You were hurt today,” Hermione said in disagreement.
Harry grimaced in disgust. “It was just Cruciatus once,” he muttered. “I was humiliated in
front of all those people, though.”
“What happened exactly?” Fred asked curiously.
“You were fine and then the second they were gone you just collapsed,” George said.
“I managed to hold it together while Voldemort was here, but as soon as the danger passed . .
.,” Harry trailed off, shrugging. Draco’s hand was trailing up and down his arm soothingly,
but Harry wished that Draco didn’t have to stay hidden.
“I can’t believe you talked to him like that,” Ron said, sounding awed. “You were bloody
brilliant, mate.”
“I wasn’t brilliant,” Harry said flatly. “I was just angry and trying to stall the bastard.”
Ginny snorted in amusement. “I was ready to wet myself because I was so terrified. Trust me,
Harry, you were brilliant.”
Harry smiled faintly. “I wasn’t the only one who helped stall him,” he said. “All of you
helped.”
“Harry, how did you know that he would come?” Hermione asked curiously.
He didn’t want to answer that question and felt bad because Draco wasn’t getting the credit
he deserved. “I tripped a ward,” he said flatly. “I felt the tingle of magic when I came up on
the steps. At first I didn’t pay any attention to it, but . . .,” he trailed off, letting them come to
their own conclusions.
“Anyway, Voldemort’s confirmed that I’m right,” he said, changing the subject as he looked
to the house. “It’s here somewhere.”
“What did he say in Parseltongue?” Ron asked.
Harry smirked wickedly in satisfaction. “Now that was brilliant,” he said. “Fucking master,
my arse.” He told his friends about what he and Voldemort had said.
“You didn’t tell him the full prophesy?” Hermione questioned in horror.
“No,” Harry scoffed. “He knows that I know it now, though, and it scares him. I think I’ve
bought myself some more time, because now he’s worried about losing out on something
important and he’s scared of what will happen to him if he tries to kill me. He doesn’t want to
end up like he did before.”
“He doesn’t really want to believe I have any great powers, but it’s thrown him off a little
because I can speak Parseltongue,” he added.
“You don’t think—“ Ron said worriedly.
Harry shook his head. “I don’t think so. That’s why I had to bluff with the prophecy. Better to
tell him I know that, than to tell him what else I know,” he said.
“We should be searching,” Hermione said decisively.
“Where?” Ron asked, getting to his feet.
“It could be in plain sight,” Harry said, getting up as well and looking around. “I’m hoping
that his wards were the protection.”
Hermione looked thoughtful. “He probably moved it here after Dumbledore’s death,” she
said slowly, “Hoping to trap and kill you next.”
“Bringing it back here and then finally killing me would appeal to him,” Harry said in
agreement.
“Could you tell us what we’re looking for?” Ginny asked. “It would be helpful if we knew.”
Harry exchanged glances with Ron and Hermione.

“I don’t know, Harry,” Hermione said nervously.
“What do you think, Ron?” Harry asked.
Ron shrugged. “They’re family. They’re not going to say anything,” he said.
Hermione nodded reluctantly in agreement. “As long as we only tell them what we’re
looking for,” she said.
Harry quickly described Hufflepuff’s cup to the others and warned them not to touch it if they
did find it. They split up and began carefully searching the ruins of the house.
Two hours later, Harry was miserably depressed, tired, aching everywhere, completely filthy
and no closer to finding the cup. Remus returned with McGonagall, after sending everyone
else away, to inform him that protective wards had been placed all around the property. They
helped Harry perform the spells and Harry became the new Secret-Keeper. Even though
Voldemort technically knew the location, he wouldn’t be able to find it with the spell in place.
After McGonagall left, Remus keyed the wards for Harry so that everyone who was currently
there would be able to Apparate in and out of the property. They were the only ones who
could access the place now.
Harry was grimly satisfied that Voldemort had made such a huge mistake. Voldemort had
surely expected to easily take Harry now that Dumbledore was gone. Instead, Harry had
turned the tables. Voldemort had seriously underestimated him. Unfortunately, he wasn’t
likely to do so again.
He sat on the porch steps, rubbing his temples.
“Here, Harry,” Remus said, quietly offering Harry another one of the Pain-Relieving Potions.
Harry absently wondered how Draco managed to keep passing them to Remus, or if Remus
had left Grimmauld Place with his own supply.
“It doesn’t look like it’s here,” Hermione said, sounding disgruntled and disappointed as she
dropped down onto the porch. The others followed suit, all of them taking a break once the
wards had been adjusted.
“It has to be,” Harry said crossly.
“Why does it have to be in the house?” Ron asked.
Harry and Hermione looked at him, blinking. “I reckon it doesn’t have to be,” Harry said
slowly. “But it’s how Voldemort works.”
“It’s not good strategy, though,” Ron said. “Why hide something so important in rubble that
could be cleared out?”
“He’s done it before,” Harry said with a shrug. “At least, from what Dumbledore said.”
“He expected to kill Harry today,” Hermione said, frowning. “I don’t think he expected
anyone to be clearing out this rubble after all the time that it’s been left alone.”
“He likes cold, damp places, though, right?” Ron said. “So, why wouldn’t he hide it in
someplace like that well over there?” he added, pointing out the well on the far side of the
house.
Harry hadn’t noticed it before, but Ron was right. Harry was on his feet and already half way
there before he recognized that he was moving. Moments later, they all stood staring down
into the darkness.
“You’re going down there?” Ginny asked.
Harry snorted, glancing over at her. “Well, it doesn’t look like I’ll be sliding this time, as this
goes straight down,” he said. “I think Ron has a point, though. This looks gloomy, dark and
damp enough.”
Ginny nodded, grimacing in disgust. “Don’t forget slimy,” she said. “So, how are we going
down?” she asked.
“We’re not,” Ron snapped. “Harry and I are going down. You’re staying up here this time.”
“This time?” Fred asked, shaking his head in disbelief.
“You lot do this type of thing often, then?” George asked.
“Often enough,” Harry said, grinning. “Ron and I have done this before,” he said firmly.
“Hermione, any ideas on how to get us down there?”
“Harry, don’t you think I should finish that research first?” Hermione said hesitantly. “We
haven’t looked up all of them.”
Harry frowned, exchanging a glance with Ron. Ron shrugged, leaving the decision up to
Harry.
Hermione continued, pushing her point. “We have no idea what’s down there. You know even
better than I do what you could find,” she said. “We haven’t researched all the spells yet and
you’ll still need to learn them. It doesn’t make sense to go down there twice,” she said in a
reasonable tone.
“I need to know if it’s there, though,” Harry said. “Because if it’s not – and I’m just wasting
my time here – then I need to start looking somewhere else.”
“This place is secure now,” Hermione said insistently. “It’s already been a long day.
Everybody could use some rest – you especially.”
“How am I supposed to rest if I wait?” Harry asked. “I have to do this, Hermione.”
Hermione scowled at him angrily before her gaze darted to the others.
Harry slashed his wand, throwing up the Silencing Charm.
“Harry, your ability to speak Parseltongue, and the fact that you already killed the basilisk
were major protections,” Hermione said. “You don’t know what kind of protections he
could’ve used for this. What if there’s something like the Inferi down there?” she asked, her
voice rising shrilly.
Harry hesitated, glancing down into the hole again. He really hadn’t liked the Inferi much, he
had to admit. “You don’t think he’d use more of them, do you?” he asked.
“I don’t know, Harry!” Hermione said, extremely distressed. “There’s certainly water in a
well, though, and they were in the water last time!”
“Well, I’ll just have to risk it,” Harry said decisively. “I have to know if it’s here or not.
Voldemort could’ve gotten suspicious by what happened today and tried to move it – if he did
hide it at the orphanage or something.”
Hermione looked at him in resignation.
“You’ll take me with you?” she asked, tilting her chin up in determination.
Harry glared at her. “Fine,” he said.
She smiled. “Then call Fawkes and he can carry us down,” she said.
“Of course!” Harry exclaimed. He broke the Silencing Charm and called for the phoenix.
He got into another brief argument with Ginny and the twins, but Harry put his foot down,
pointing out that Ron and Hermione knew why he was going. Harry was sure he’d be hearing
it from Draco later as well. Remus didn’t say much, but he was clearly concerned. Ron was
the only one who looked half way happy with him by the time he took hold of Fawkes’ tail
feathers and they disappeared into the well.
They descended quickly into the darkness, Hermione clutching Harry tightly around the
waist, Ron holding onto both of them – leaving Harry’s hands free, one to hold onto Fawkes
and one to hold his lit wand aloft.
“Oh, I do hate flying,” Hermione cried softly as they fell.
They landed in knee-deep, icy cold water, and all three of them yelped at the shock. They
could hear the echoing shouts from those at the top.
“We’re fine! Just wet!” Harry shouted, sounding disgruntled.
Ron sniggered, and even Hermione smiled at Harry’s description. “You’re not overly fond of
‘wet’, are you, Harry?” Hermione teased.
“Depends on the circumstances,” Harry grumbled, smiling ruefully. He looked around them
and added, “And these aren’t good circumstances.”
“No, they aren’t,” Hermione agreed.
“I don’t know much about wells,” Ron said. “But if You Know Who has been down here,
shouldn’t we be seeing . . . more of something?”
Harry looked around at the mossy, slimy stone walls that surrounded them. “Do you have a
knife on you, Ron?” he asked absently, still studying the walls.
“Yeah,” Ron answered warily. “Charlie gave me one and told me to keep it on me if I was
going to keep hanging around you,” he admitted.
Harry glanced over his shoulder at him, laughing as that caught his attention. “You’d think
I’d start carrying my own knife, wouldn’t you?” he said rhetorically. “Let me have it.”
“What are you planning on doing?” Hermione asked sharply, even as Ron retrieved his knife
from his pocket and passed it to Harry.
“I’m not as good at magic as Dumbledore was,” Harry answered, slicing across the palm of
his left hand.
“Harry!” Hermione screeched loudly, attracting the attention of those up top again.
Ron called up reassurances as Harry began running the palm of his bloody hand around the
walls, splashing through the cold water. A little over halfway around from where he’d started,
there was a flash of silver before an opening appeared. Harry gave a whoop of triumph,
grinning at his gobsmacked friends.
“Well, that’s one way to do things,” Hermione said.
Using her wand, she muttered an incantation that marked the area above the opening so
they’d be able to find it again. She then cleaned the surrounding walls of Harry’s blood, not
wanting to leave any traces of it behind.
“It looks like another tunnel,” Harry said, peering into the darkness.
“How could there be a tunnel down here?” Ron asked. “That’s certainly not a part of any
well.”
“Dumbledore created the tunnel from Hogwarts to the Shrieking Shack,” Hermione said. “I
don’t see why Voldemort wouldn’t be able to create a tunnel down here.”
With exchanged glances and lit wands, they headed into the tunnel. “I don’t like it down
here,” Ron whispered. “There’s that creepy mist stuff floating around.”
“Dementors,” Hermione whispered back. She stopped, grabbing hold of Harry’s arm to stop
him as well. “Harry, I think Voldemort has Dementors guarding this Horcrux,” she said
urgently.
“I don’t like them,” Harry admitted. “But we all know the Patronus Charm.”
“Harry, you don’t understand. If Dementors are down here, what are they feeding on?”
Hermione asked, her eyes wide and fearful.
“So, we have extremely hungry soul-suckers down here,” Ron said grimly.
Harry and Hermione turned to Ron, blinking at him.
“What’d I say?” Ron asked.
“Why would Voldemort use creatures that suck the soul out of people, to protect part of his
soul?” Harry asked in return.
“It doesn’t make sense,” Hermione said plaintively.
“They do feed on the good parts, though,” Harry said flatly. “How much good do you really
think is in that piece of Voldemort’s soul?”
“Probably not much, if any,” Hermione admitted. “But that still leaves us with what they are
feeding on.”
“They don’t feed well off of animals,” Ron said. “We know that from Sirius.”
They lapsed into silence for a couple of minutes, the only sounds, the dripping of water.
“I think,” Harry said slowly. “They’re not likely being fed. Desperate, they’re more likely to
overwhelm anyone who tries to get close.”
“But you’re going to try to get closer anyway,” Hermione said flatly.
“I’ve fought off a hundred of the damned things once before,” Harry said grimly. “Three of
us can do the job.”
Hermione shut her eyes tightly for a moment, but then followed silently as Harry started
moving forward again.
The mist swirled thicker around them the further along the tunnel they went. Harry could feel
his thoughts turning darker and more depressing. Fighting the feeling of despair, he checked
on his friends. It didn’t help his mood to see the looks of desolation etched on their faces.
Gritting his teeth, he splashed his way around another bend of the tunnel, and stopped
abruptly. Hermione and Ron ran into him, and he grunted as he tried to keep his footing. The
slippery, mossy stones turned under his feet and he went down with a splash, his friends
landing on top of him.
In an attempt to break his fall, Harry threw his hand out in front of him, automatically trying
to keep his wand hand free. Instead of breaking his fall, he felt the wrenching pain as his
wrist broke. Harry cried out, cracking his cheekbone against a rock jutting out of the shallow
water.
The physical pain was almost immediately swamped by emotional pain and icy coldness as
the Dementors that had caused him to stop in the first place swooped closer.
Flashes of green light . . . flashes of red light . . . his mother’s screams . . . Voldemort cackling
. . . Sirius falling . . . Cedric’s lifeless body . . . swirling white fog . . . hissing . . . blood
dripping . . . Dumbledore falling from the tower . . .
“Harry!”
“You’ve got to help!”
Harry became aware enough to realize Ron was holding him up, arm braced around Harry’s
chest.
“There’s too many!” Hermione shouted. “Harry, you’ve got to cast your Patronus!”
Harry shook his head dazedly.
“Harry!” Ron shouted in his ear, shaking him roughly. “Snap out of it, mate!”
Harry shook his head again, focusing on his surroundings. A white otter was swimming
through a sea of Dementors while a white Jack Russell terrier chased through them.
Hermione and Ron had managed to push the Dementors back, but they were beginning to
surge forward again.
Closing his eyes, Harry ignored the fact that Ron was still holding him up and tried to focus
on an image of Draco, remembering the feeling of warmth, comfort and safety of being in
Draco’s arms.
Opening his eyes, Harry pointed his wand and shouted, “EXPECTO PATRONUM!”
The white stag erupted from the end of Harry’s wand, immediately charging forth. Breathing
heavily, and huddled together, the three watched as the stag, otter, and terrier ripped through
the Dementors until nothing remained but a denser white fog.
“Where’d they go?” Ron whispered hoarsely.
“They can’t die,” Hermione whispered back. “They’ll reform from the mist.”
“Then we should hurry,” Harry said with grim determination.
Hermione and Ron looked at him quickly. “Harry, you can’t go on,” Hermione protested.
“You’re hurt.”
He ignored her and started walking forward, keeping his left arm cradled to his abdomen. He
hadn’t come this far to be stopped now. Ron and Hermione tried voicing a few more protests,
but fell into step with Harry regardless – on either side of him, rather than behind him, this
time.
They didn’t really have to go much further when they came upon a large, underground
cavern. In the middle was a stone plinth – with a golden cup resting on top of it. Surrounding
the plinth was a gleaming red dome of magic.
“Gryffindor colours,” Hermione breathed. “With Hufflepuff’s cup.”
*****
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Notes

Chapter Twenty-Nine
Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood and simply stared at the cup. It wasn’t until they heard
shouting from the others that they paid any attention to their surroundings again. They turned
to see Remus, Fred, George, and Ginny coming to meet them. Harry didn’t doubt that Draco
was with them as well.
“What the bloody hell are you doing down here?” Harry snapped. He didn’t get much of an
answer as the others became sidetracked at the sight of the cup. Harry felt the hand on his
back from the one person who couldn’t speak to him before he could attract the others’
attention.
“Hey!” he shouted.
“Harry, what exactly are you involved in?” Remus asked sharply, dragging his attention away
from the dome of magic in the centre of the room. His eyes caught on the way Harry was
holding his wrist. “What happened?” he asked, hurrying over.
“I’m fine,” said Harry irritably. “I just fell and broke my wrist is all. The question is what the
hell are you doing down here?”
Remus ignored him and pulled his wand. “I can splint and wrap your wrist, but I’m afraid I
can’t heal it down here,” he said.
“Remus, I’m fine,” Harry snapped impatiently. “I don’t know what you’re doing down here,
but I need to try to figure that out,” he said, jerking his head towards the dome of magic, “and
then we need to get the fuck out of here before the Dementors decide to reform – or whatever
the hell it is they do.”
Remus darted a glance back towards the cup. “You’re not fine, Harry,” he said quietly. “We
heard the shouting and hurried as quickly as we could.”
He met Harry’s gaze. “We came through the mist. I can’t say how many you destroyed, but I
do believe that they will not be coming back,” he said.
Harry started. “I thought they couldn’t be destroyed,” he said in surprise.
Remus’ gaze again flicked to the middle of the room. “Everything has one way or another of
being destroyed. I would think you understood this, Harry,” he said.
Harry followed his gaze and nodded slowly.
“Professor, how is it possible?” Hermione asked, finally speaking up.
“The mist is already slowly dispersing,” Remus explained. “Which indicates that they are not
reforming. A Dementor can be destroyed by a Patronus when they have been already
weakened. However, it’s mostly unheard of for them to be weakened to such a state.”
“But being locked down here would do it,” Harry muttered.
Remus nodded.
“They were temporary, Harry,” Hermione said in a rush. She had that air about her that
indicated she had a lot of information she wanted to impart and couldn’t get it out fast
enough.
Harry listened as Remus quickly and efficiently wrapped his wrist.
“Voldemort had to have done this since Dumbledore’s death,” Hermione said excitedly. “It
makes sense. The Dementors couldn’t have been down here forever, but they’d last long
enough as protection until he could capture and kill you. Then, he could set up more
permanent protections.”
“He knew you’d come, mate,” Ron interjected angrily. “He laid all of this as a trap for you.”
“No,” Hermione said, shaking her head for emphasis.
“He didn’t lay this as a trap for Harry?” Ron asked blankly.
“No, because he especially didn’t want me to find this,” Harry said quietly. “The trap was at
the house. He knew I’d be unable to resist going there,” he added bitterly.
“Exactly,” Hermione said in satisfaction. “He expected you to be dead long before you
discovered this down here.”
“You don’t have to sound so bloody happy my death was planned for today,” Harry muttered.
“Oh, honestly,” Hermione huffed. “You know I’m not happy about that. I’m extremely happy
that you’re all right.” She grimaced, eyeing him critically. “Well, mostly all right,” she
qualified.
“I do not dare heal your cheek until the wound is cleaned properly,” Remus said. “I presume
that is the reason you have not healed the cut on your hand as well.” Remus had wrapped his
wrist, at least, and he’d cast drying charms on Harry’s clothes so he wasn’t wet any longer.
“Uh, yeah,” Harry admitted. “But it’s not bad.”
“He intentionally did that one,” Hermione said, scowling at Harry anew.
“Oi! I’ll survive!” Harry said, exasperated. “I happen to have something more important to
deal with,” he added pointedly.
“So, what is that?” Ginny spoke up, pointing to the cup.
Harry exchanged glances with Ron and Hermione. None of them were prepared to answer
with the complete truth.
“It’s the cup I’ve been looking for,” Harry answered, stepping closer to the dome of magic.
“Harry!” Hermione screeched loudly.
“What?” Harry snapped. “I’m right here. You don’t have to shout at me.”
“You can’t go too close,” Hermione insisted anxiously. “You know what happened before.”
“Yeah, I do,” he said angrily. “I happened to be there and you weren’t. Watch what happens.”
Ignoring their warning shouts, he strode forward the last couple of steps and recklessly
reached his hand out to touch the dome – and was stopped by an invisible barrier.
“Nothing!” he shouted, whirling to face them. “Absolutely nothing happens!”
Ron and Remus took a step away from him. They’d obviously followed him with the
intention of pulling him back.
“How’d you know that you could touch it?” Ron asked weakly.
“I didn’t!” Harry retorted angrily. “Everybody just back off!”
Hermione looked stricken, and glancing to the others, Harry noticed they looked no better.
Fred, George and Ginny stood off to the side, watching the proceedings with wide-eyed
shock. He had no idea where Draco had got to in all of this, but he was sure that his boyfriend
was highly pissed off at him.
If nothing else, Harry reckoned the adrenaline pumping through his system was at least
helping to counter the effects of the Dementors. His head was allowing clearer thought than it
had been earlier. It didn’t mean that he was in a spectacular mood, though.
He snorted to himself, modifying his thoughts. The others probably thought his mood was
rather spectacular – spectacularly bad. All of them were silently waiting. He turned his back
on them again to study the dome.
The criss-crossing layers of red magic reminded him of a movie he’d once seen on the telly.
Dudley had been watching some cops and robbers style movie that Harry had become
interested in despite himself. It had certainly been more interesting than cleaning the
windows in the room.
The more he looked at the situation, the more it reminded him of the movie. Instead of the
world’s largest diamond, or whatever it had been, there was a golden cup. Instead of a
beautiful glass display, there was the stone plinth. Instead of laser security beams, there was
the red dome of magic. Instead of a museum, they were in a large underground cavern.
“It’s like a bad movie,” he muttered aloud, causing Hermione to let out a choking laugh. He
sent her a wry smile over his shoulder. “You see it as well?”
“Yes,” she said, nodding. “I sincerely doubt that was his intention, though. The atmosphere is
certainly far more sinister,” she added, shuddering.
“Remus, do you recognize this at all?” Harry asked.
“No, Harry, I don’t,” Remus answered. “I can feel the Dark magic, but I’ve never seen
something like this before. It appears to be some type of shield; however, I’m not sure that
the usual counter-spells would apply. Normally, shields are the counter-spell.”
“No!” Harry said forcefully, alarmed. “The usual spells definitely don’t apply. Whatever you
do, don’t try them as it’d likely kill you.”
“That’s exactly what You Know Who expects if someone gets this far,” Ron said bitterly.
“Voldemort,” Harry and Hermione said in unison, both of them scowling at Ron.
“Yeah, him,” Ron said, shuddering.
Harry rolled his eyes. This was getting them nowhere. “Do you have your notes, Hermione?”
he asked.
“Of course I do,” Hermione snapped.
“Do you recognize this?” Harry asked sharply, turning fully to glare at her.
Hermione hesitated.
“Do you?” Harry asked, his voice dropping dangerously low.

“Well, yes,” Hermione admitted. “It’s one of the spells and I’ve already researched the
counter, but you haven’t learned it yet and you certainly haven’t translated it back to
Parseltongue.”
“Then, I’m learning it now,” Harry said decisively.
“Harry,” Hermione said plaintively. “It’s Dark Arts. It’s going to take time to learn it
properly.”
“I don’t want to come back,” Harry said impatiently. “I might as well learn it now and be
done with it.”
“I don’t want it to kill you!” Hermione said shrilly.
“And I’m not going to let it!” Harry shouted.
They stood glaring daggers at each other, until Remus stepped in between them.
“Hermione, may I look over your notes?” he asked mildly.
Hermione was clearly upset, but even under the circumstances she wouldn’t go against a
professor, even one who hadn’t been their professor for years. She jerked her arms out of the
shoulder straps of her bag and began digging for the appropriate notes.
“Harry, could we talk to you for a minute?” Fred asked warily. “Uh, privately?”
Harry stared at him incredulously for a moment before it dawned on him what Fred’s words
meant.
“I’ll stay here with Ron,” Ginny said, marching over to her brother and latching onto his arm.
“He’ll protect me.”
Ron stared down at his sister in bemusement, but he was distracted enough that he didn’t
argue when Harry disappeared back into the tunnel with the twins. Hermione appeared about
to argue, but Remus distracted her with questions about her notes.
Harry left them all to it, completely unsurprised when Draco appeared once they were out of
sight of the others. Fred and George were left to watch for the others, a Silencing Charm was
erected, and then Draco began shouting.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Potter?” he shouted furiously.
Harry leaned up against the rock face of the tunnel wall and listened to Draco rant. He had
nothing better to do until Hermione and Remus sorted out the spell, at any rate. Well, he
could think of something better to do to pass the time, but he didn’t think Draco was exactly
in the mood.
“Will you kiss me?” he asked anyway, interrupting Draco’s shouting about foolish, idiotic
Gryffindors.
Draco glared at him. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he ground out.
Harry blinked in surprise. “Why would kissing hurt me?” he asked blankly.
Draco squeezed his eyes tightly shut. “My boyfriend is the most stupid, moronic, oblivious-
to-pain, bloody fool in the world,” he muttered.
“I’m not oblivious to pain,” Harry said bemusedly.
“And he doesn’t even deny being an idiot,” Draco said in disgust, opening his eyes to glare at
Harry again.
“I already know you think I’m an idiot,” Harry snapped irritably. “I don’t feel like arguing
with you about that one at the moment.”
He paused and pasted an innocent smile on his face. “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll argue
that topic with you tomorrow,” he suggested.
Draco huffed in annoyance, even as his eyes skimmed over Harry’s face in concern.
“Please, Draco?” Harry pleaded, sensing Draco’s resistance crumbling and willing to beg to
get what he wanted. “I’m cold and I’m sure you’re warm.”
“Budge up,” Draco ordered Harry to stand up away from the wall. He took the cloak that he’d
draped over his arm and carefully wrapped it around Harry’s shoulders.
“Better?” he asked.
“No,” Harry pouted. “I want you under here with me.”
Draco was wary, but he slipped his hands beneath the cloak and carefully wrapped them
around Harry’s waist. Harry kept his left hand tucked close to his chest, but reached with his
good hand to grasp the back of Draco’s head, pulling him down so he could kiss him. The
sudden twinge in his facial muscles explained why Draco had thought it would be painful,
but Harry ignored it in favour of the warm lips parting and allowing his tongue inside the
moist depths.
The kiss was gentle and warm and everything Harry needed at that precise moment. He
didn’t understand how being in Draco’s arms and a simple kiss could make him feel safe,
protected and reassured, but he appreciated it and felt immensely better.
Draco turned them until he was leaning against the tunnel wall with Harry resting against his
chest, both of them cocooned by the folds of the Invisibility Cloak. Harry laid his uninjured
cheek against Draco’s shoulder, sighing softly.
Draco’s arms tightened around him. “Harry, are you all right?” he asked, the worry evident in
his tone, even if Harry couldn’t see it on his face. “I really don’t want to be hurting you more
than you already are.”
“I’m feeling much better with where I’m at now,” Harry murmured in content. For at least a
few minutes he could let go of some of the tension he’d been under all day.
“Merlin, Harry!” Draco exclaimed, not willing to rest quietly like Harry wanted. “You’ve
been Crucioed by the Dark Lord, you’ve been attacked by a swarm of Dementors, you’ve a
broken wrist and nasty gashes on both your hand and your face. I know you’ve got to be
aching something fierce and you’re probably bruised all over. Don’t you think you’ve been
through enough for one day? Do you really have to attempt to kill yourself by trying to break
some Dark curse?”
“I’m not going to kill myself,” Harry muttered. “That’s why Hermione did the research in the
first place.”
“And yet she’s scared to death,” Draco pointed out in exasperation. “Did you even hear her
tell you that she’s not done with the research yet?”
“Well, of course she’s not done,” Harry retorted. “Hermione’ll never be done with research.
Besides, we researched most of the spells we might need for this part yesterday. I’d be
willing to bet she was up late researching them even further, knowing where we were going
today and hoping to be as prepared as possible.”
“Harry, she’s scared,” Draco said insistently.
Harry heard the emotion behind that. Draco was scared. He didn’t get a chance to reassure
him when they heard Remus approaching. Harry shifted enough to look at him, but otherwise
didn’t move from Draco’s arms.
“How do you two go from one extreme to the other?” Remus asked curiously. “I was sure
Draco would be berating you furiously.”
“I was, but Harry’s a manipulative prat,” Draco grumbled.
Harry smirked, but decided it was wise to keep his mouth shut this time. Remus smiled, but
also deemed it prudent not to say anything further about it.
“Yes, well, I’m here to teach you a spell, Harry,” Remus announced. “I am unfamiliar with
the specific shield out there, but I have heard of this counter-spell. Although, it is not a spell
in common use, by any means. Hermione’s notes are quite thorough and very helpful.” He
sighed deeply. “The others are not particularly pleased that I’m insisting on teaching it to you
privately, but I believe Draco will be able to provide some assistance.”
“One of the advantages of having a boyfriend well versed in the Dark Arts,” Harry said dryly,
“it’s helpful when trying to take down Dark Lords.”
Draco sniggered. “Ah, now I understand why you keep me around,” he said.
Harry nodded solemnly as he stepped away from Draco. “Yes, that’s the reason,” he
deadpanned.
Draco pushed off the wall and gave Harry a quick kiss for his trouble. “I don’t believe you,”
he whispered before pulling away, smirking.
Harry smiled at him before addressing Remus. “So, what’s this nasty spell I have to learn?”
he asked.
“It’s not a particularly nasty spell,” Remus said, shaking his head. “Not the way that many
people think of Dark magic. Technically, it’s a rather straightforward spell, as you are simply
dismantling the shield.”
“But it’ll take a lot of power and it’ll drain him,” Draco stated more than asked.
Remus nodded. Harry was confused. Admittedly, he’d only been delving deeper into studying
the actual Dark Arts for the previous day or so, but he’d always understood that intent was
the main issue. Draco was quick to disabuse him of the notion when he asked about it.
“Harry, at the root of magic is power,” Draco said, his lecture tones in place, making Harry
want to roll his eyes at the incongruence of the situation. Instead, he listened intently,
knowing Draco knew far more about this than he did.
“Dark magic can be about gaining power and it often means using a lot of power,” Draco
explained. “Usually it is used for rather evil purposes, to gain power over others in one way
or another. And that’s where intent comes in. The magic is still just magic. It’s not inherently
evil or good in itself. It’s how it’s used.”
“Well, I kind of already figured that out,” Harry admitted. “That’s one of the things I was
arguing about with Hermione.”
Draco’s face twisted into a grimace, but he managed to refrain from making any disparaging
comments. “My point is that magic could almost be labelled by the level of power it takes
rather than being labelled either Light or Dark. There are always spells that would overlap,
but it’s a closer distinction than most people prefer to recognize.”
“All right,” Harry said, “but what does all this have to do with what I need to do now?” He
didn’t really understand all of it, but he didn’t think he actually needed to at the moment. He
just needed to know what he had to do to get the blasted cup so he could go home.
Remus answered. “The spell you need to use does not require you to generate feelings of hate
and anger, such as the Cruciatus Curse. It will require you to focus your energy and magical
power. Draco has helped you with your Occlumency. I believe the exercises you used there
will help you with the focus you need now.”
Remus and Draco were both eyeing him critically.
“You’re sure this is the spell that you need?” Remus asked.
“Uh, I don’t even know what the spell is yet,” Harry reminded him. “But if Hermione says
it’s the one, then I’m sure.”
“She’ll only tell me that she got it from you,” Remus said suspiciously.
And I got it straight from Voldemort, Harry thought. “I’m sure it’s the right spell,” he said
aloud, grimly but confidently. He didn’t realize the look of hard satisfaction that his features
formed, but he saw the way Remus and Draco’s eyes widened slightly as they stared back at
him.
“How do you know it’s the right spell?” Draco demanded.
“Voldemort told me,” Harry retorted. Draco scowled, thinking Harry was being facetious, but
it was almost the truth. “Let’s just get on with it. I’m tired of being down here.”
“All right, Potter,” Draco commanded. “Then it’s time to harness some of that power I know
you have.”
Harry eyed him warily, but nodded.
Draco began walking Harry through a couple of the meditation exercises they’d used before.
Harry found that fairly routine now and simple enough. It wasn’t routine when Draco tested
his focus by teaching him a new spell.
Draco pointed his wand at a nearby boulder. “Contundo!”
Harry blinked as the boulder was obliterated.
“Its purpose is to crush or demolish something,” Draco said matter-of-factly. “It can be used
on rather large objects as well, but these rocks will work for testing.” He pointed out another
large boulder. “Focus and cast the spell,” he ordered.
Harry glanced at Remus who simply nodded encouragingly. Taking a deep breath, Harry
focused before shouting the spell. “Contundo!”
He wasn’t sure whether he should be proud or not when the spell worked and the boulder was
obliterated, just as the other had under Draco’s wand. He looked back to Draco, who was
staring at him in consternation.
“What?” Harry asked. “Did I do it wrong?”
“No,” Draco said sullenly. “You did it perfect as far as I can tell. It took me ages to get that
spell right,” he added.
“Well, when Voldemort decides to transfer some of his powers to you, then I’m sure you’ll
get more spells right the first time as well,” Harry muttered.
Remus and Draco’s shocked gasps clued him in to the fact that he was saying something that
he should’ve kept quiet about. He’d become rather complacent being able to talk to both of
them regarding almost anything. Considering what they were doing, they even knew about
the Horcruxes. They just didn’t know that the cup was a Horcrux. They also hadn’t known
about the prophecy and what Harry had learned about Voldemort marking him as his equal.
“Harry,” Remus said slowly. “That sounded rather sarcastic coming out of your mouth, but
I’m inclined to believe you meant that literally.”
Harry lifted his hands to rub at his temples and winced as his left wrist protested the
movement. Staring at his wrist for a moment, he thought it fascinating that the wrap seemed
to be charmed to expand with the swelling. It was definitely more swollen than it had been
earlier, yet it hadn’t been re-wrapped and it wasn’t cutting his circulation off. He remembered
when he’d sprained his ankle when he was younger, trying to get away from Dudley. He’d
learned how to wrap it himself, and he became rather proficient at it, as it needed re-wrapping
constantly. This was much better.
“Is your wrist hurting?” Draco asked.
“Not really,” Harry answered honestly. “The Pain-Relieving Potion is still working well
enough overall. I’m simply admiring Remus’ handy wrapping job while trying to avoid
answering the questions I know you both have.”
Draco huffed at him, but the noise sounded like it was hiding a surprised laugh.
Harry’s lip curled into a light smirk and he shrugged his right shoulder. “I’ve learned a lot of
shite over the last couple of days,” he said. “I reckon you should know that your boyfriend is
even more of a freak than you realized, but I’m not going to answer your questions down
here.”
Draco scowled at him. “Don’t pull that bloody attitude on me,” he snapped. “I’m the only one
allowed to call you names, you prat.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “That certainly explains a lot,” he said sarcastically.
Then he registered Remus pinching the bridge of his nose, reminding him a lot of Severus.
“Boys, we will discuss this later, when Harry has completed this task and we are back safely
again,” Remus said wearily. “And when Severus can monitor the two of you so that we can
actually make sense of things,” he added, muttering the last more to himself than either Harry
or Draco.
Harry and Draco exchanged a glance, saying nothing.
Remus sighed heavily. “I recognize this is simply your method of interaction, and mostly just
a means of relieving tension,” he said. “Right now, however, we need to get on with this.”
His gaze was full of anxious concern as he looked at Harry. “I have to wonder which is more
disturbing, though, your comment or what you intend to do.”
Harry shrugged, unconcerned. “They’re both related,” he admitted. “Everything in my life

seems to connect back to Voldemort in one way or another.”
“I need a snake,” he said abruptly, causing Remus and Draco to blink at the sudden change of
topic.
“We didn’t bring any of your snakes,” Draco said blankly.

“So, create one for me,” Harry retorted. “You could do the bloody spell in second year, you
can do it now.”
Draco blinked slowly, trying to comprehend the request.
“I need a snake so I can focus,” Harry explained. “I have to do this spell in Parseltongue,
otherwise I could get hurt. I can’t be positive, but I’m fairly certain that’s why Dumbledore’s
arm was injured so badly. I can avoid that type of injury. This is Voldemort’s actual spell so
that he could retrieve his own –“ He cut himself off abruptly.
Remus and Draco exchanged a glance as Harry cursed himself for almost slipping. He
scowled at them. “Just conjure me a fucking snake,” he snarled.
Eyeing Harry, Draco did as he asked without comment. “Serpensortia!”
A long, black snake uncoiled from the end of Draco’s wand and landed heavily on the rocks.
Harry hissed at it hurriedly until, bending at the knees and reaching his arm out, he allowed
the snake to coil heavily across his shoulders.
Shaking his head as if to clear it, Draco straightened his spine. “Let’s get this done,” he
drawled confidently, his cool, Malfoy exterior slipping into place.
Harry followed his lead, standing straight, wand at the ready. Remus quietly instructed on the
specific spell and then Draco ran him through one more quick exercise to focus his mind and
his power. Harry was as ready as he would ever be.
As soon as Draco was safely ensconced under the cloak again, Harry strode confidently back
to the large cavern. He was barely aware of Remus directing the others back to the mouth of
the tunnel, keeping them out of harm’s way.
He was focused on the red dome of magic and felt a brief stab of fear before ruthlessly
shoving it aside. With a corner of his mind consciously registering the snake weaving its head
in his peripheral vision, he levelled his wand at the shield.
“Confringo Tectum!”
Draco and Remus had tried to warn him, but he still wasn’t prepared for the immediate
backlash of magical power that erupted when the spell hit the dome. He’d felt the rush of
power flow through him, down his arm and out his wand. And it was now being returned
tenfold. He stumbled backwards, but hands at his back kept him from falling. A red flare of
light flooded the cavern, forcing Harry to close his eyes against the onslaught to his vision.
And then it was over.
Harry’s vision was fading from red to black as his knees began to buckle. Later he would
wonder if it look like he fell gracefully as Draco eased him to the ground.
“Harry!”
He coughed and spluttered as someone dumped a potion down his throat that tasted
suspiciously like Pepper-Up. He cracked his eyes open to glare at Remus and the red spots
still tainting his vision.
“Bloody hell, mate!” Ron exclaimed. “Are you all right?”
“I just got the shite kicked out of me by bloody Voldemort,” Harry mumbled crossly. “What
do you think?”
Harry’s words simply caused Ron to heave a huge sigh of relief.
“Harry will be all right,” Remus said, giving Ron a small, yet reassuring smile. The smile
disappeared as he looked back down at Harry. “Dark magic can pack quite a punch on both
the one wielding the power and the one on the receiving end of it.”
“And Harry was both,” Ron said in quiet realization.
Remus nodded.
“Well, that explains why I feel like I’ve been run over by the Hogwarts Express,” Harry
muttered.
“Harry, you just performed a spell of extreme magnitude, countering the magic cast by the
wizard who could arguably be considered the most powerful in the world right now,” Remus
said, shaking his head. “It is no small wonder that you are even alive right now.”
“I’m the Boy Who Lived. I think it’s part of my job description,” Harry sneered sarcastically,
not in a good mood, especially since he was still lying on the cold, hard ground with his
friends all staring at him worriedly.
He closed his eyes at the chorus of reprimands. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I only did what I had
to do and I’m just feeling wiped out now.”
“Harry,” Hermione said his name quietly, getting his attention. “I believe you did do it.”
She had been kneeling beside him and shifted aside so he could see for himself. They all
turned to look at the cup gleaming brightly on the stone plinth, their view unhindered by the
layer of protection magic.
After a few seconds, Harry struggled to sit up and get to his feet. He realized the snake must
have slithered away when he went down, because it was gone now. Ron and Hermione
helped him up and then let him go once he was steady. He shot a glance at his friends. All of
them managed to look both nervous and awed at the same time and Harry understood how
they felt as he turned his gaze back to the cup.
He shuffled towards it, not truly feeling as steady as he would like. He hesitated before
touching the cup, flashes of a larger golden cup whisking him away going through his mind.
“Remus, can you check to see if he turned this into Portkey?” he asked abruptly.
Remus came up beside him and waved his wand over the cup, muttering several different
spells. “There is something extremely dark about it, but I can not detect what it is,” he said a
minute later. “It is not, however, a Portkey.”
Harry simply nodded. He already knew there was something dark about it. As long as
touching it didn’t send him spiralling to another location, he was reassured. Still, he reached
for the cup with his injured left hand, keeping his wand ready in his right.
He winced at the flare of pain in his wrist as he lifted the heavy gold cup, and when nothing
happened after a couple of seconds, he tucked his wand into his pocket and switched to hold
it with his right hand.
“You’ve got it,” Hermione breathed.
Harry glanced up at her. The others had gathered in a circle around the stone plinth, silently
watching him. He felt the reassuring presence of Draco at his back again, likely looking over
his shoulder.
One thought took precedence in his mind. “I’ve found all of them,” he said softly.
“Harry?” Hermione questioned, disbelief evident in her tone.
“I said, I’ve found all of them,” he repeated quietly.
“There’s still one,” Hermione said slowly, looking at Harry carefully.
Harry blinked, realizing that Ron and Hermione didn’t know what he did about the locket. He
wasn’t about to tell them the details surrounding it anytime soon, either. It would be difficult
in its own way to retrieve.
“Well, yes, but we know where it’s at,” he said.
Ron snorted. “Yeah, somewhere in a stuffy old mansion that we haven’t been able to search,”
he said.
“But it’s there,” Harry insisted.
“We don’t really know that for sure,” Hermione said, biting her lip.
“I reckon I shouldn’t be counting them until I have them,” Harry admitted. He paused. “But
we’re close. I can feel it,” he added, a grin starting to form as he watched Ron and Hermione
exchange glances.
Suddenly, all three of them were grinning widely.
“Harry’s going to win!” Ron shouted in excitement. He grabbed Hermione and gave her a
loud, smacking kiss, much to everyone’s amusement. It helped lighten the sombre mood
considerably.
Hermione pushed him away, but she was giggling. She tilted her head, looking at Harry with
new understanding. “I should’ve realized. No wonder you were pushing to find this today.”
“I feel much better now,” Harry agreed. Mentally, he did feel a lot better. It was good to
finally have one of the Horcruxes in his possession and good to know where the others were.
“I think that’s enough for today,” Remus interjected. “Harry desperately needs some healing
and some rest, and we still have to get out of here.”
Hermione nodded her cooperation as she took in Harry’s pale, pain-filled expression. “Of
course,” she said quietly.
Harry glanced at the cup in his hand, nodding in satisfaction. “Yes, we can go now,” he said.
He passed it to Ron, who had taken possession of his rucksack somewhere along the line.
Ron swallowed heavily before he accepted it from Harry and his face twisted into a horrible
grimace as he dropped it into the bag.
The trip back through the tunnel was far less eventful, but as they passed through the densest
portion of the Dementor fog, Harry faltered, feeling extremely weak. Ron simply grasped
Harry around the waist, pulling him onwards.
“Lucky for me you’re bigger than I am,” Harry mumbled, shooting Ron a small grin in an
attempt to push away the depressing feelings weighing him down.
Ron grinned back. “Nah, lucky for you Hermione takes good notes so we don’t have to come
back down here again,” he said.
“Lucky for you both that we didn’t run into a need for Herbology this time,” Hermione
interjected in a fairly cheerful tone as they moved away from the fog.
All three of them grinned at the confused expressions on the other’s faces.
Ginny shook her head. “I’d say it’s lucky for you that you know someone knowledgeable
about the Dark Arts,” she said dryly.
Harry exchanged a glance with Remus. “Yeah, lucky for me,” Harry said softly.
“Well, can’t say as we’ve done much useful down here,” Fred said brightly.
“But it’s been a right entertaining adventure,” George added, sporting a wide grin.
“Yes, because I live to entertain you,” Harry said sardonically, rolling his eyes. He promptly
decided that his eyes should’ve stayed focused in front of him as he stumbled again. Then he
realized that the water was deeper where they were at and it wasn’t like he could see where
his feet were even when he was watching. He closed his eyes, deciding it didn’t matter.
Fred moved to support his other side. “Mate, it’s rather unsporting of you to lower the
popcorn value by injuring yourself,” he said conversationally.
Harry snorted in amusement, but didn’t bother to respond. It was becoming enough of a
challenge to keep his feet moving and he had the feeling that whatever potion Remus had
dumped down his throat was wearing off.
At the bottom of the well, he ignored the conjured rope ladder the others had obviously used
and called softly for Fawkes. He carried them all up and out easily.
Harry dropped heavily to the ground, not even bothering to try to stay on his feet. It was
difficult enough attempting to reconcile himself to the fact that the sun was still shining
brightly and he squeezed his eyes shut to ward against it. The sunlight felt warm, though, on
his chilled body.
“Fred, George, if you and Ginny could take Hermione and Ron back to your flat, clean them
up and feed them some chocolate before sending them home,” Remus commanded. “I will
take this one and get him taken care of,” he said, looking sternly at Harry.
Harry cracked his eyes open in time to see them all nod.
“We’ll see you Wednesday?” Ron asked.
“I don’t know what time, but yeah,” Harry agreed.
“You’ve done brilliant, Harry,” Hermione said, smiling but still gazing at him worriedly.
“Come on, Harry,” Remus said gently, bodily picking Harry up. “We’re getting you out of
here.”
Too tired to protest, Harry could only be grateful that Remus was there and confident that
Draco would be following.
*****
contundo -tundere -tudi -tusum [to bruise , crush, pound, beat up, break up, demolish].
confringo -fringere -fregi -fractum [to break to pieces; to destroy].
tego tegere texi tectum [to cover; to bury; to conceal; to shield , protect].
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Notes

Chapter Thirty
It had already been an extremely long day, but Harry wasn’t overly sure he was glad to be
back at Grimmauld Place. Having Severus, Remus, Narcissa and Draco fuss over him was
quite an experience. Well, not that Severus was fussing; he was barking orders. Draco was
alternately kissing him or yelling at him. Remus and Narcissa were fussing, though.
Remus refused to put him down until he could put him down in his room. Harry was then
summarily told he wasn’t allowed to leave the room, with the exception of the loo, until he
was fully healed and well-rested.
Harry blinked in astonishment. “What? You’re imprisoning me in my room?!” he exclaimed.
He received a resounding “yes” from all four people, and he gaped at them – which seemed
to be Severus’ indication that Harry was ready to have potions poured into his open mouth.
His cheek and hand were mended, a healing charm was cast on his wrist, and then Draco was
ordered to help him clean up in the shower.
Admittedly, Harry was feeling a little dazed, but he was still disappointed when Draco kept it
to literally just cleaning up, quick and efficient. It might have had something to do with
Severus’ time limit and his warning that he would come in and fetch Harry himself if they
weren’t out of the room again in the time allotted.
It really wasn’t that long at all before Harry was healed, clean, clad in dry pyjamas,
ensconced in bed, propped up by a pile of fluffy pillows, and being ordered to eat the light
soup and toast from the tray settled on his lap. Draco had his own tray of food, and there
were also large chunks of chocolate that they were both informed they had to eat. He wasn’t
feeling overly hungry, but he ate automatically as Remus and Draco filled the others in with
what they knew of the day’s events.
Harry wasn’t overly surprised to learn that Severus had been there for the meeting with
Voldemort. He was surprised, however, when Severus actually complimented him. He took it
as a compliment, anyway.
“Harry, you are the only person alive who would ever talk to the Dark Lord as you did
today,” Severus said.
“You tend to scare me more than he does,” Harry said with a shrug.
Snape stared unblinkingly for several moments, and then began to laugh.
Harry glanced at Draco. “Did you know he knew how to laugh?” he asked in astonishment.
Draco was smiling, but looked a little bemused as well. “It’s not something I’ve heard that
often, but yeah,” he answered.
Narcissa was smiling warmly. Remus . . . Remus was staring at Severus, transfixed by the
sight.
Harry looked back at Severus. “You know, this in itself is kind of scary,” he said, giving him
a lopsided smile.
Severus’ laugh subsided into an amused smirk. “With as many students as I have terrorized
over the years, only you, Harry Potter, would find me more frightening than the Dark Lord,”
he said. “I find this distinctly interesting as I have rarely induced true terror in your reactions
to my presence.”
“Maybe it has something to do with me only having to face Voldemort once a year on
average, and you I have to face on a regular basis,” Harry said in genuine amusement.
Severus inclined his head in acknowledgement.
“Harry, I wish to know what you meant by Voldemort transferring powers to you,” Remus
said, bringing the conversation back around to serious matters.
“Remus, I’m tired,” Harry protested. He figured the only reason he was awake at all was
because of the potions he’d been given. It was still early evening, but it had been an
extremely harsh day.
“I know,” Remus said in understanding. “You can rest soon.”
“Is it related to what you were taunting the Dark Lord about?” Draco asked. “When you were
speaking Parseltongue with him? You said you told him you knew the full prophecy.”
Harry winced as Severus’ glare pierced him. He’d forgotten that Draco was there for that part
of the conversation, and wished he’d thought to ask him not to say anything about it around
Severus.
“I’m really not feeling well,” he said weakly.
“You know the full prophecy?” Severus snarled dangerously, ignoring Harry’s comment and
his ill health.
“Severus!” Narcissa exclaimed, alarmed at his reaction. “Harry has already been through
enough today. He does not need you breathing down his neck.”
Severus ignored her as well. Feeling horribly trapped, Harry’s gaze flicked to Narcissa, to
Remus, to Draco, to anyone who might get him out of this situation. All three simply stared
back in wide-eyed alarm at Harry and Severus’ reactions.
Harry shut his eyes, only to see the image of his parents’ graves behind his closed lids. He
snapped them open again. He didn’t want to talk about this with Severus. Ever.
“Potter,” Severus said warningly.
“Yes, I know it!” Harry burst out painfully. His eyes darted to Remus then back to Severus.
“Does Remus know it was you?” he asked.
Severus’ eyes widened. “You know,” he said, the words barely audible.
“Yes, I know, you bloody bastard,” Harry said, glaring resentfully.
“What is it you know?” Remus asked in bewilderment.
“Shut up and get out, Lupin,” Severus snarled.
“No! You have no right!” Harry shouted. He pushed himself away from his cocoon of pillows
and attempted to launch himself at Severus who was sitting in a chair beside the bed. He
didn’t get far as Draco caught his shoulders and held him tightly.
Harry tried fighting him, but he was weak after everything that had happened to him that day.
Draco easily wrapped his arms around Harry’s chest, pinning his arms to his side. After a few
seconds, Harry quit struggling and collapsed against him.
Severus didn’t look surprised. Nor had he moved. “You should have allowed him to hit me,”
he said smoothly to Draco.
“You deserve it,” Harry spat.
Severus nodded. “I’ve known for many years that you should hate me and cultivated your
anger towards me,” he admitted.
Harry had already stopped fighting Draco, but now he stilled completely. Sudden insights
were slamming into his consciousness, and he shifted uncomfortably in Draco’s tension-filled
embrace, releasing them both from their frozen state.
“You don’t hate me,” he murmured. “You hate what you feel you’ve created.”
Severus leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He bowed his head and his hair fell
forward to shield his face. Harry had never imagined seeing such an image of the man and it
struck his heart achingly, overriding the anger. Dumbledore’s voice was resounding in his
head again.
“You have no idea of the remorse Professor Snape felt when he realized how Lord Voldemort
had interpreted the prophecy, Harry. I believe it to be the greatest regret of his life and the
reason that he returned –”
“What in the name of Merlin is going on here?” Remus asked, his voice tight, expressing
both his anger and his worry.
Harry and Severus both ignored him. “Dumbledore said it was your ‘greatest regret’,” Harry
whispered.
“You have every reason to hate me, Harry, and I made sure that you did,” Severus said
quietly. He raised his head to glare at Harry. “You are a stubborn child, however, and still
managed to work your way around much of that anger this summer.”
“Sorry for not encouraging your self-loathing,” Harry muttered sarcastically.
“There is reason for it, insolent whelp,” Snape seethed.
Harry pinched his eyes shut. How could he stay angry when he could actually see the truth of
Dumbledore’s words? He hadn’t believed him before, but he was beginning to now.
“Everything about my life has been dictated by that night,” Harry muttered.
“The night your parents died,” Remus interjected, trying to make sense of their cryptic
comments.
Harry only acknowledged him by shaking his head. Severus didn’t acknowledge him at all.
They were still focused on each other.
“Why?” Harry asked plaintively. “I understand why you would report it. You were a Death
Eater. I hate it, but that at least makes some sense. I’ve managed to piece together most of it,
but I don’t understand how it could be your ‘greatest regret’ like Dumbledore said. Regret,
maybe, but you hated them.”
Severus bowed his head again and his shoulders slumped. “I wished to never speak of this
again,” he said. Harry understood that, but it didn’t help.
“Please,” Harry pleaded. “I need to understand.”
He tried to move out of Draco’s arms again. “The others can go,” he offered. “I promise to
never say a word.”
“No,” Severus said, his voice low but commanding. “They may stay.”
“So, you still won’t tell me,” Harry said bitterly.
“You remember what you saw of your mother in my memory?” Severus asked harshly.
Harry blinked at the abrupt question. “Yes,” he answered. “She stood up for you.”
“She always did,” Severus said coldly. His eyes lifted to meet Harry’s again and Harry
flinched at the haunted expression. “She was the best friend I’ve ever had in my life. She
never once treated me as the others did. She was especially persistent that summer, going so
far as to invite me to her home on several occasions.”
“I saw a picture of her that summer,” Harry breathed. He remembered the photo album his
aunt had given him and, as irrational as it might be, he had the sudden, desperate need to see
it. His eyes darted about wildly, making Severus pause and stare at Harry warily.
Draco obviously realized what he was searching for because he got up off the bed and
retrieved it from Harry’s trunk without question. Harry hadn’t even known that Draco had put
it in there, but he snatched it quickly from Draco’s hands and began flipping through the
pages.
He passed over all manner of pictures with his mother in them, ranging throughout her entire
childhood from what he could tell. He wasn’t overly surprised by the time he found a picture
of his mother and Severus. He stared at the picture for long seconds.
He had no idea where the picture was taken, as it wasn’t Hogwarts, but it reminded him of
study sessions he’d had on the lawns of Hogwarts with his friends. Lily and Severus were
sitting on the grass with stacks of books surrounding them. Lily’s face was lit up with
laughter. Severus was smiling, just a slight upturn at the corner of his lips. The moment
frozen forever in a Muggle photograph.
Harry silently passed the album to Severus. The man took it from his hands, but grimaced as
if he were in pain when he saw the picture Harry had been looking at.
Remus leaned to look over Severus’ shoulder and started when he saw the photo. “I took that
picture,” he said softly, smiling sadly. “Lily managed to talk Severus into studying with us as
we wanted to get our summer assignments finished early. She offered Severus help with
Charms if he would help us with Potions.”
“And you offered help with nothing,” Severus muttered.
Remus’ smile widened. “As you didn’t wish me there or wish to even speak to me, it was
rather pointless to offer,” he said.
“I did speak to you that summer,” Severus said quietly. “It wasn’t until the following year
that you were again lumped with your bastard friends.”
Remus sighed heavily and sat back in his seat.

Harry felt dizzy with the revelations and gratefully rested against Draco.
Severus focused on him again after setting the album aside. “Harry, I was always rivals with
your father and Black,” he said. His face twisted as his gaze flicked over Harry and Draco
sitting with their hands twined together and resting on Harry’s abdomen.
“We were rivals as you and Draco had been before this summer,” he said. “There was never
any way that a relationship would develop such as yours has.”
His gaze flicked to Remus. “It would appear that I have Remus for any redeeming
relationships,” he muttered dryly.
Remus smiled warmly, but remained silent.
“So, were you friends with my parents?” Harry asked.
Severus shook his head. “No, I hated your father and he hated me. But your mother, she
meant the world to me,” he said. “I prefer to believe that I meant a lot to her as well.”
“You did, Severus,” Remus assured him.
Severus grimaced and Harry stared at him. “You loved my mother,” he whispered.
“Not in a romantic sense, but yes,” Severus admitted.
“Harry, think about how you feel about Hermione,” Remus suggested.
As much as their friendship had been a little strained recently, Hermione was still one of his
dearest friends. He’d certainly do anything he could to protect her. Harry’s breathing
quickened – memories, thoughts and revelations swirling through his mind.
“You tried to save her the night she died,” he said in a rush of understanding. “That’s why
Voldemort was willing to let her go. He was willing to spare her and told her so, but she
wouldn’t listen. She wouldn’t let him have me without a fight.”
Severus’ eyes widened in shock. “How could you possibly know that?” he questioned
sharply.
Harry shifted away from Draco to lean against the pillows, turning to lie on his side.
“Because I’ve heard how the last minute of my mother’s life played out,” he said tonelessly.
“Every time the Dementors came near me in third year, I heard my mother’s screams. I heard
Voldemort ordering her away from me, telling her she didn’t have to die. I just didn’t know
why he said that to her. But you did, didn’t you? You tried to protect her somehow.”
A wash of cold, uncomfortable silence fell over the room for long seconds until Severus
broke it. “When Voldemort said he’d discovered your location, I appealed to him to save
Lily,” he admitted. “He said I could have her as we both knew that you were the one who he
was after. She was to be my reward for having brought him the information.”
He paused, his hard swallow audible in the deadly silent room. “I was able to contact
Dumbledore, but it was too late.”
“You’d already turned spy before then, hadn’t you?” Harry asked.
“Yes,” Severus answered. “The lure of the Dark Lord was great,” he continued after a few
seconds. “I joined willingly, craving the power and thirsting for revenge.”
Harry squeezed his eyes shut, not sure how much he really wanted to hear. It didn’t matter, as
Severus didn’t go into the horrible details.
“Your mother was persistent, perhaps more persistent than the Dark Lord,” Severus went on.
“She insinuated herself in my life and refused to leave. Even knowing how much darkness
was in me, she insisted on seeing what she termed the good in me.” He hesitated. “You take
after your mother in that sense,” he said softly.
Harry’s eyes flew open again to meet his.
“Harry, I hadn’t known what that information would mean to the Dark Lord,” Severus said,
his voice harsh and sounding horribly anguished. “The day you were born is the day that I
went to Dumbledore.”
Harry simply stared, watching the tumble of emotions in obsidian eyes that he’d rarely seen
show any emotion besides anger for six years. He stared until heavy lids closed over them
and the head bowed again. He didn’t feel the remotest sense of victory.
He flipped over onto his back, staring sightlessly at the ceiling. He barely registered Draco
taking his cold hand in between the two of his own. With the creepy sensation that he was
channelling Trelawney, Harry quoted the full prophecy aloud.
“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches---born to those who have
thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies---and the Dark Lord will mark him as his
equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not---and either must die at the hand of
the other for neither can live while the other survives---the one with the power to vanquish
the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies.”
“Oh gods,” Draco breathed, unable to remain silent. “You weren’t bluffing the Dark Lord
today. You were telling him the truth.”
“Technically, yes,” Harry agreed flatly, still staring at the ceiling. “And when I stayed up all
night two nights ago, I finally learned exactly how Voldemort marked me as his equal. I can’t
really tell you how he transferred his powers to me, but it’s enough for you to know that he
did.”
“You pretty much know that already, though. As I have some of his magical power on top of
my own, I can perform spells I shouldn’t be able to do yet. Like learning the Patronus when I
was only thirteen and casting Sectumsempra, a Dark curse, simply by reading its name,” he
explained.
A vicious sneer took over his features. “The truly important fact is that Voldemort fucked up
by passing to me his ability to speak Parseltongue,” he said. “He doesn’t know it yet, but he
is losing this war because of that fact alone.”
The cold, uncomfortable silence fell over the room again as everyone attempted to process
everything that had been said. Harry didn’t have any idea what they were thinking, especially
since he refused to look at them. He continued to stare at the ceiling.
He felt raw and exposed. It didn’t help that Draco had released his hand. He felt alone and set
apart from the others once again.
There was a reason he was different from everyone else, and it all stemmed from Severus
overhearing the first bit of that damned prophecy. He should hate Severus for that. He had
hated Severus for that.
He was sure that there was much more explanation behind Severus’ choices, but he was
incredibly . . . relieved that Severus had filled in many of the blanks that related to his life.
He finally understood why Severus had worked to save him over the years, even while
showing him every bit of loathing that he could.
Not that Severus usually showed kindness to anyone aside from his Slytherins, but Harry got
an extra-large dose of the hatred directed towards the Gryffindors. He was sure that part of
that hatred had been very real, as Severus had hated what his father and Sirius had done to
him. But it helped knowing that at least part of that hatred hadn’t been real. Simply
understanding what had happened went a long way in terms of being able to accept his life.
He realized that he did accept his life. He’d accepted it in the days after Dumbledore’s death.
He was Harry Potter, the Wizarding world’s Chosen One. He still didn’t like it, but he had
finally accepted it.
“I don’t understand all of this,” Remus spoke up quietly, breaking the silence.
Severus stood abruptly, glaring down at Remus. “All of this is my fault,” he said harshly.
“What more is there to understand than that?” He stalked to the fireplace on the other side of
the room, igniting the fire to stare at the flickering flames.
Remus gazed after him helplessly. He looked back to Harry, his eyes pleading for
understanding.
Harry had never felt so old in his life, as he did at that moment. Dumbledore had said he
withheld information in an attempt to preserve Harry’s childhood. Harry understood that now.
He was a bloody teenager and shouldn’t be placed in a role of reassuring adults. Someone,
anyone, should be reassuring him. But he was the one who had the information to make sense
out of everything. He sighed. He would rely on Dumbledore’s wisdom, once again.
He felt physically old as he made to crawl out of bed. Even with all the potions in his system,
he was stiff and sore. And exhausted. This had not been a good time to discuss anything, but
Severus was not known for his demonstrations of sympathy and compassion. Harry realized,
though, that there was compassion in Severus. He just rarely showed it. Harry would have to
be the one to attempt to bridge the gap.
“Get back in bed, Potter,” Severus ordered, without turning around.
Harry ignored him, padding over to stand just a few feet from Severus.
“Dumbledore said it’s all about choices,” he said quietly.
“Would you care to offer me a blasted sweet?” Severus asked snidely. “That will surely make
everything right,” he added sarcastically.
Harry bowed his head. He was too tired for this. He was dealing with so many of his own raw
emotions. What made him think he could talk to Severus about this?
Because Dumbledore wasn’t here. Because the others didn’t understand fully what they were
talking about. Because this was between him and Severus.
They were on their own.
“You made a choice to pass on part of the prophecy to Voldemort. It created a chain of events
that has dictated my life, and yours as well, in many ways,” Harry said quietly, his head still
bowed. “We can choose to be angry, bitter, hate ourselves and each other for everything that
has happened.”
Harry leaned against the nearby wall. He’d thought he could face Severus, but he’d been
wrong.
“I want to,” he admitted. “I want to be angry and hate you.”
“As you should,” Severus said harshly.
“But I can’t!” Harry burst out. “I’ve accepted my life, such as it is. I can’t go back and
change any of what’s happened in the past, but I can do something about things now.”
He hesitated before adding, “It doesn’t bloody help that I’ve got Dumbledore’s voice echoing
in my mind, telling me how wrong it is to hate you.”
Severus glanced at him sharply for that admission. Harry couldn’t bring himself to look at
him directly, or even peripherally, and closed his eyes.
“This isn’t about Dumbledore,” Severus said.
“No, it’s not,” Harry agreed miserably. “It’s about Voldemort.”
Harry could feel Severus’ gaze boring into him. The tension was so thick in the room that he
was sure he would suffocate. He could feel the chill creeping back into him that he’d felt
from the mist in the tunnel earlier in the afternoon. He wrapped his arms around himself as a
shiver coursed through his body.
“It’s about Voldemort,” he repeated bitterly. “It all comes back to him. All of it is his fault.”
He paused. “I never realized before that you’re just as good as I am at blaming yourself for
things that are Voldemort’s fault, not ours.”
“Potter, if I had not taken that bit of the prophecy to the Dark Lord, none of this would be
happening,” Severus ground out.
“Yes, it would,” Harry said dully. “Oh, maybe it wouldn’t have been us in the situations
we’re in now, but Voldemort would still have been attempting to take over the world.”
He slid down the wall, wrapping his arms around his knees.
“This’ll sound mental, but by doing what you did, I think you probably gave us the only
chance we’ll ever have to saving ourselves from Voldemort,” he said tonelessly.
“Impossible,” Severus snapped out.
Harry glanced up at the man towering over him. “I told you before that we live in the world
of the impossible,” he said wearily.
“Explain yourself,” Severus said, eyes narrowed.
“If he hadn’t decided to mark me that night, I never would’ve ended up with the ability to
speak Parseltongue. And without that, we wouldn’t have a chance,” Harry said
“Why?” Severus asked sharply.
“Because Voldemort relied on it,” Harry answered. “In his efforts to make himself invincible,
many of his protections rely on Parseltongue. I’m the only one who can defeat him, simply
because I can speak like a bloody snake. Stupid, but that’s how it is.”
In the ensuing silence, Harry debated once again as to whether he should tell Severus about
the Horcruxes. Now would be a good time if he was going to.
He still didn’t understand why Severus didn’t appear to know anything about the subject. The
man was extremely intelligent and had been studying the Dark Arts since he was a child.
Lucius was probably similar to Severus in terms of how much he knew about the Dark Arts,
but Harry remembered Dumbledore telling him that Lucius hadn’t known what the diary was.
Slughorn had known something about Horcruxes, but even he had admitted that he didn’t
know the incantations involved.
For whatever reason, Horcruxes simply were not common knowledge, even amongst Dark
wizards.
Harry understood one reason it could be rare for anyone to know about them. Considering the
ramifications of just one evil Dark wizard knowing that information, he wouldn’t be
surprised if any record of the topic had been destroyed throughout the centuries. The fact that
Voldemort felt the need to write his own book on the subject said a lot for the lack of material
available.
Harry knew that Severus would be a lot of help with the Horcruxes, but he just couldn’t bring
himself to tell him about them, let alone tell Draco or Narcissa.
Until he’d found Voldemort’s diary, he’d simply been doing his best to follow Dumbledore’s
orders. Now . . . now he was willing to admit that he was terrified of letting that kind of
information get out to anyone. It certainly wasn’t the kind of information to give out to Death
Eaters who valued power, even if you did trust them. Trusting and exposing them to possible
temptation were two different things.
Severus hadn’t pushed to know the details of Harry’s task, and Harry was beginning to
wonder if Severus knew there was some inherent danger in knowing the specifics. The
thought made Harry shudder. He knew there was an extremely dangerous side to Severus,
even if he was starting to recognize that there was more to the man.
He was startled when Severus crouched down in front of him.
Harry gazed at him miserably.
“I think you know too much,” Severus said, eyeing him speculatively.
“Yeah,” Harry agreed, his shoulders slumping further.
“Even when I think you have informed me of everything important, I find out that you’ve
been withholding other information,” Severus said.
Harry bowed his head again, pulling his knees tighter to his chest. He knew he was guilty of
doing what Dumbledore and so many others had done to him. He’d hated it. He didn’t like it
much better when he was the one withholding information.
“I can tell you almost everything I know about the prophecy,” he said quietly. “But I don’t
really want to tell you about . . . well, about the other things.”
“Dumbledore ordered you not to explain that task, did he not?” Severus asked.
“Yeah, but –”
“Then you will continue to keep that secret,” Severus said, cutting him off.
Harry lifted his eyes to meet Severus’ and gazed at him searchingly.
“Tell me, Harry,” Severus said, his voice so soft that Harry was sure the others couldn’t hear
him. “Do you have the ability to become a Dark Lord? I’m not suggesting that you would do
so, but have you gained the knowledge that would allow you to make yourself invincible if
you so desired?”
Harry swallowed heavily, but reluctantly nodded, his eyes still locked with Severus’.
“You will keep that information to yourself,” Severus said evenly. His eyes narrowed. “And
you will always remember that your mother stayed focused on the light at all times. She
always saw the light, even in the dark.”
Eyes wide, Harry nodded again. “Yes, sir,” he whispered.
As he was ushered back to the bed, Harry realized that he and Severus understood each other
far better than he’d previously recognized.
Comfortably propped up in bed again, Harry explained everything that he possibly could
without explaining the actual Horcruxes. The prophecy was gone over with every detail that
Dumbledore had clarified for him. Eventually, Severus was satisfied and Harry was ordered
to rest.
Harry and Draco settled down in the bed, lying on their sides facing each other.
“Harry, you were brilliant today,” Draco said quietly. “You scared the hell out of me, but you
were brilliant.”
Harry sighed. “I owe you an apology and a thank you,” he said softly. “I’m sorry I fought
with you before. You were right that I needed you there, and the others. If you hadn’t been so
insistent . . . if you hadn’t been there . . .,” he trailed off. Both of them knew Harry could
have easily died because of Voldemort’s trap.
Draco didn’t say anything at first. He’d already shouted all of his “I told you so” and “foolish
Gryffindor” comments earlier. He reached with his free hand and stroked his fingers along
Harry’s cheek where it had been injured.
“Harry, I know you have a job to do, and I’m not going to try to stand in the way of that.
Hell, even before I listened to everything you and Severus have talked about this evening, I
knew it would be foolish on my part to interfere with the things you need to do,” he admitted.
His gaze grew even more intense. “But I’m damned if I’m going to let you destroy yourself
in the process of trying to destroy him. I’ll pull every one of your resources I can to help
protect your arse.”
Harry swallowed heavily and nodded his head against the pillow, hearing the firm
determination and emotion in Draco’s voice. He wasn’t sure if he dared attempt to name that
emotion, but he knew it was good.
Already having dealt with an extreme roller coaster of emotions, and not having the energy or
will to deal with any more at the moment, Harry tried to lighten the mood. He slowly grinned
at Draco. “So, who’s going to protect my arse from you?” he asked cheekily.
Draco smirked, allowing the mood change, and grabbed said arse, pulling Harry closer to
him. “Your arse is mine, Potter, whether you like it or not,” he drawled.
“I’m glad,” Harry said, kissing Draco’s smirk away. He was too tired to do any more than
that, though, and shifted until he was lying comfortably, resting his head on Draco’s shoulder.
He sighed softly. “This is where I’ve really wanted to be all day,” he murmured sleepily,
closing his eyes. He was asleep within seconds.
*****
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Notes

Chapter Thirty-One
Harry found himself oddly alone when he woke up. Refreshed, but alone, which was rather
unusual. He amended his alone status as he paused to give Hedwig a little attention and hiss a
greeting to his snakes on his way to the loo.
Upon returning to the bedroom, he spotted the photo album on the night stand. He climbed
back into bed to finally look at it. He’d had it for less than a week, but it felt like it’d been a
year since he’d found it under the floorboard.
His life was spinning, and he wasn’t sure there was much he could do about it. Voldemort
wasn’t going to put the war on hold for him. In fact, with Dumbledore gone and Harry
actively pissing Voldemort off, the war was escalating quickly.
And Draco. He wouldn’t give up Draco for anything, but he had to admit, he picked a really
bad time to get involved in a relationship. His emotions were constantly churning with
everything that was happening. Some good and some bad, and he wasn’t sure how to get
them under control again. He simply didn’t have time to get them under control.
He focused on the album again, wondering if it was his aunt’s way of apologizing. She’d
never shown any kind of affection towards him. Even when she’d been helpful this summer,
she was still rather detached. He still thought she’d been helping him out of fear, but he
debated whether he should’ve made more of an effort to talk to her.
Sighing, he opened it and began slowly flipping through the pages. The pictures indicated
that his mum had had a happy childhood. So many photos of her laughing and smiling,
ranging from when she was a baby to her teenage years. There were even a few with Aunt
Petunia smiling beside her, but they would’ve been before his mum started at Hogwarts. A
couple of family photos were included, and Harry stared at his grandparents. He’d never
given them much thought, and didn’t even know what had happened to them.
He came to the photo with Severus again, and found a few more on the following pages.
There was one of Remus and Severus, and he had to wonder if there had been some kind of
attraction between them even back then. Then came photos of his mum with the Marauders.
He laughed aloud at one pair of photos. The top picture was a shot of his parents scowling at
each other. The bottom picture was them kissing and making up.
He was astonished when he came to the last few pages. They were photos of him at different
ages. Some had been taken when he was sleeping. Some were taken when he’d been outside
working in the yard. A few appeared to be from his primary school.
He turned the last page and stared at the note taped to the inside back cover.
Harry,
I never wanted you here, as you very well know, and I am quite glad that you are finally gone.
Given what you are, I’ve never felt you deserved much. Vernon felt you deserved even less.
You are Lily’s son, though. I have given back what you arrived with, and these photos. Your
kind stole her away from me, but she would’ve wanted you to have them.
I fully expect you to end this war, the sooner the better, then I will no longer have to deal with
your kind ever again.
Petunia Dursley
He read the note again, attempting to read between the lines, but afraid to read too much into
them. It was rather straightforward. He sighed, realizing it probably would’ve been pointless
to try to talk to her. She liked him no better now than she had all along. Somehow, the blame
for Lily’s magical heritage had come to rest on his shoulders.
He did learn that Aunt Petunia actually still cared for his mum, though. Perhaps a little of that
love for her sister transferred to him. Not much, and most of it was suppressed further by
Uncle Vernon, but maybe she cared for him at least a little. Enough to take a few photos of
him and save them without anyone knowing about it.
It wasn’t much, but Harry was absurdly grateful for it, anyway.
Reading the last line again, Harry was fairly certain there was fear in the words. The same
fear that he’d detected when he was around her this summer. Aunt Petunia had always hated
and feared anything that disrupted her life. Helping Harry may have been disruptive and
distasteful to her, but with the alternative being a war threatening her way of life, she’d gone
with the lesser evil.
He looked up when the door opened. “Morning,” he said, smiling at Draco.
Draco laughed. “Harry, it’s three o’clock in the afternoon. I reckon the fact that it’s not
actually morning explains why you’re not grumpy,” he said. “How are you feeling?”
Harry twisted his wrist around, testing for any lingering soreness. “My wrist is fine,” he said.
“And it feels good to have gotten some normal sleep.”
Draco frowned as he sat down on the edge of the bed, spotting the photo album in Harry’s
lap. “Maybe I spoke too soon about you not being grumpy,” he said.
Harry shrugged. “I’m fine,” he said. “A little surprised, but it’s not the same shock as when I
first found it.”
He showed Draco the note from his aunt, explaining his thoughts about it.
“You’re probably right,” Draco admitted. “She’s not terribly fond of you, but she’s damned
scared and hoping you’ll make everything right again.”
“Just like everyone else,” Harry muttered.
Draco gave him a wry smirk. “Maybe, but almost everyone else fawns all over you as they
hope for you to make everything right,” he drawled.
Harry rolled his eyes and called for Winky to ask her to bring up some tea as Draco looked
through the pictures. As she spread it out on the low table in front of the couch, Harry
dropped to the floor, stretching his legs out under the table. He leaned back against the couch
and snagged one of the sandwiches as Draco fixed him a cup of tea.
“So, am I still imprisoned in our room?” Harry asked dryly, before taking another huge bite.
“Not really,” Draco said, smirking at him. “Everyone just wanted to make sure you got some
proper rest. Then, when you woke, I don’t think anyone wanted to risk you simply
disappearing.”
“Where would I disappear?” Harry asked.
Draco snorted in amusement. “Harry, you disappear regularly,” he said.
“Not without telling anyone, though,” Harry said in his defence.
“You just generally refuse to tell anyone where you’re going,” Draco said wryly. He held a
hand up to stop Harry from saying anything. “I know, most of the time you can’t tell
anyone.”
Harry shrugged, grabbing another sandwich. “It’s better now that we’re here. Between
Severus and Remus, they pretty much know what I’m doing,” he said.
Draco looked at him askance. “No one seems to know everything you’re doing,” he said.
“Granger and Weasley know one aspect, but they don’t know about anything you’ve got
going on here. And we don’t know much about what you’re doing with Granger and Weasley,
even after everything you told us last night.”
“Yeah, but there’s not much I can do about that,” Harry said, unconcerned. “The important
thing is that Voldemort doesn’t know what I’m doing.”
“I want to know what you’ve got going on with Weasley and Granger,” Draco said.
“I can’t tell you,” Harry said. “We’ve gone over this.”
Draco looked like he was going to argue some more, but Harry looked at him pleadingly.
“Draco, please can we not argue,” he said. “As far as I know, I don’t have to go anywhere or
do anything today. I just want to relax for a little while.”
“You’ve certainly earned a break,” Draco admitted. He didn’t appear to be at all happy about
it, but he dropped the argument. Harry knew it would be brought up again, but was grateful
Draco was letting it go for the time being.
“What kind of break have I earned?” Harry asked suggestively.
Draco arched an eyebrow, showing his interest. “If you can manage to be both here and
awake tonight, I’ll let you have what you’ve earned,” he drawled.
“Why not now?” Harry pouted, already feeling the anticipation of spending some more time
alone with Draco.
“Because you have to go downstairs and check in with the others,” Draco said ruefully.
Checking in with the adults wasn’t really so bad, Harry decided. Not this time, anyway.
Mainly they just wanted to make sure Harry was all right after the events of the day before.
The lack of questioning might have had something to do with the fact that Severus wasn’t
there.
Harry was surprised to learn that it was the full moon that night. Severus had brewed the
Wolfsbane then had to report back to Voldemort to keep up appearances. Draco looked leery,
but Remus assured them that he would be fine with Severus’ potion and would be spending
the night locked in his room.
Harry simply felt bad for being rather oblivious as to what was going on with everyone else,
and stopped to talk to Remus about it before following Draco back upstairs to spend some
time with Victoria.
“Remus, I should’ve remembered tonight was the full moon,” Harry said regretfully. “I
should’ve been doing something to try to get you the Wolfsbane, but I completely forgot
about it.”
“Harry, you can’t do everything,” Remus said mildly. “My monthly transformation certainly
should not even be a concern of yours.”
“But you’re my friend,” Harry insisted. “And it wasn’t long ago that I realized I had access to
the help you needed, but then I didn’t do a bloody thing about it.”
“Perhaps you didn’t, but Draco did,” Remus said with a slight smile.
“What?” Harry asked, confused. “What did Draco do?”
“When you bought the potions ingredients in Diagon Alley, I understand that Draco also
helped you purchase all of the ingredients to brew the Wolfsbane for me,” Remus explained.
“He intended to help you brew it.”
“He did?” Harry asked, eyebrows raising in surprise. When Remus nodded, Harry’s face fell.
“So, even Draco remembered and was thinking about you – and I wasn’t.”
“Oh, Harry, I didn’t tell you that to make you feel worse,” Remus said.
“Yeah, well, I deserve to be feeling bad for forgetting about my friends,” Harry muttered. “I
forgot about your transformation. Before, I hadn’t even asked about Bill at all. Their wedding
is coming up in just a few days and I don’t have any kind of gift for them. Bill said I didn’t
have to, but I should.”
He looked at Remus helplessly. “I’ve been deserting Victoria as well,” he said. “Winky’s
wonderful, but I don’t want Victoria being raised by a house-elf. It’s not right. I don’t even
really know how she’s been doing lately. I’ve either been gone or practically unconscious
from exhaustion or else involved in some bloody explanation or planning session.”
“Harry,” Remus said firmly, commanding Harry’s attention and stopping his rambling. “I
don’t think you are forgetting about your friends or your family. I think you are forgetting
that you are human and you are only one person. You can not do everything.”
“But Remus—“
“No, Harry,” Remus said, cutting him off. “I told you about Draco trying to help with the
Wolfsbane because I was attempting to point out to you that you have others helping you. As
unbelievable as most would find it, Draco is aware of what is important to you and is doing
whatever he can for you. Even if it means helping others that he wouldn’t normally,” he
pointed out.
Harry bit at his lip as he considered that. Draco really wasn’t the do-gooder type, that was
certain. Was he really going so far just to help Harry?
“But why should Draco remember you and I forgot?” Harry asked. “I’m the one who
should’ve remembered.”
“Because Draco, along with me and everyone else, knows that you are focused on saving all
of our lives,” Remus said, smiling sadly. “Harry, we all know that you are the one who can
eradicate the threat to our way of life. We don’t know exactly how and we don’t like it that
you are the one, but we accept it. Because we accept that fact, we also accept that you are not
going to be able to do everything else at the same time,” he said.
“Now, as for me, Draco recognized you would be concerned and made efforts to help,” he
said. “As for Bill, your friends did their best not to worry you with things they believed you
could do nothing about. As for Victoria . . .”
Harry was listening carefully and watched as Remus frowned. “Admittedly,” Remus went on,
“this concern is a little different. Draco is Victoria’s father and Narcissa is her grandmother,
as you very well know. Technically, this means they have the right to raise her however they
so choose.”
“You’re right,” Harry said heavily. “I reckon I have no right to be worrying about Victoria
when she’s not even mine to be worrying about.”
“No,” Remus said firmly, shaking his head. “That is not remotely what I said.”
“Then what are you saying?” Harry asked.
“Draco and Narcissa know how you feel about Victoria,” Remus said. “They are also very
much aware of your view regarding her being raised by house-elves. Harry, you don’t see it
because when you are here, and at least halfway alert, there is generally a whirlwind of
activity. When you are not here, Draco, Narcissa, and even myself take care of Victoria much
of the time – not Winky.”
“Well, that’s good, then,” Harry said flatly. He was glad to hear that. Victoria needed her
family and for them to be a part of her life. He just realized that after spending so much time
with the little girl, that he was barely spending any time with her now.
“It is good,” Remus said gently. “For a time, you were the only one with the means to care
for Victoria and keep her safe, and you took on that responsibility. Taking on that kind of
responsibility would be difficult for anyone your age, however, and they are working to
lessen that responsibility now that they have the means to take care of Victoria themselves.”
“But, Harry, it doesn’t mean that they are trying to exclude you in any way,” he said.
“Victoria is excited when she gets to see you and I’m certain she misses you when you are
away.”
“I don’t want her feeling sad,” Harry said miserably. “She’s already lost her mum. She
shouldn’t have to keep losing people, and here I’ve been deserting her.”
“Oh, Harry, you’ve not been deserting her,” Remus said. “You’ve made sure she has the rest
of her family, giving her something very important. And she’s not lost you in the process.”
Remus paused thoughtfully. “Harry, when I’ve been away from you for long periods of time,
I freely admit that I miss seeing you. It doesn’t mean that I don’t love you any less,” he said.
“I’m not your father, and you are not my son, but I don’t believe that makes us any less
family.”
Harry’s eyes widened. Remus hadn’t ever actually said anything like that aloud to him
before. Harry had been fairly certain Remus felt that way, but to actually hear it meant the
world to him.
“Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?” Remus asked.
Harry practically flung himself into Remus’ arms where he was held tightly to the man’s
chest.
“Being a father isn’t just about how much time you can spend with your child,” Remus
murmured into his hair. “It’s also about being willing to do anything you can to protect that
child, even when it means you can’t be there for their day-to-day care.”
Harry was too busy crying to tell Remus that he thought he finally understood, but was pretty
sure Remus got the message anyway. He still felt like an idiot when he pulled away, wiping at
his eyes with his sleeves.
“I’ve turned into a bloody git,” he muttered. “You and Severus and Draco are going to start
getting real sick of me crying on your shoulders all the time.”
Remus blinked in surprise. “Severus?” he questioned in disbelief. “You’ve cried on Severus’

shoulder?”
Harry winced, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut. To hell with his self-respect – he wouldn’t
have to worry about his self-respect if Severus simply killed him for mentioning it to anyone.
“I take it from your expression that more went on the other morning than we were aware of,”
Remus said mildly.
“Um, yeah,” Harry admitted sheepishly. “I kind of fell apart and Severus put me back
together. But you can’t tell him I told you,” he pleaded.
Remus smiled. “It’s all right, Harry. I understand that Severus doesn’t want anyone knowing
that he’s actually got a heart under that cold exterior of his.”
Harry tilted his head curiously, his attention distracted. “Uh, Remus, is there something going
on between you and Severus?” he asked bluntly.
“Not as much as I’d like,” Remus admitted bluntly in return, laughing when Harry’s eyes
widened and his jaw dropped. Harry quickly closed his mouth, but he was still surprised at
what Remus had admitted.
“You realize this is none of your business?” Remus asked, but he was still smiling.
“Well, yeah,” Harry said reluctantly.
“I’m telling you for a few reasons,” Remus said, his tone revealing that he understood
Harry’s curiosity and was willing to satisfy it. “One of those reasons being the fact that I’m
not ashamed of how I feel about Severus. There are very few people I can tell because I’m
not about to endanger his life, but certainly it is safe to tell you.”
“I also want you to be aware that I truly do understand how you are likely feeling about
Draco,” he said. “It’s not necessarily an easy adjustment to be attracted to those of the same
sex, especially at your age.”
Harry blushed hotly, but kept his mouth firmly shut. He may consider Remus like a father,
but it didn’t mean he really wanted to have the dreaded sex talk with the man. It was still nice
to know that he could go to Remus if he wanted to, though.
Remus gave him a knowing look, but continued. “Even without all the other typical issues
involved in relationships, your young man is also marked as a Death Eater with a not-so-
clean history,” he said solemnly. “I understand the extra difficulties involved with caring for
someone with that kind of past. It’s not easy, but it can be dealt with.”
“You’ll understand,” Harry murmured to himself. He was slowly learning that he really could
go to Remus for advice about almost anything. It was a novel concept, never having had
anyone like that in his life before. Even with everyone else he’d ever been close to, he’d still
had to hold back certain things. Remus, however, was always calm and understanding, even
when he didn’t agree.
He could feel his eyes burning and really didn’t want to cry – not again. Remus seemed to
understand that as well, and lightened the mood a little.
“Of course, I’m also telling you I’m attracted to Severus because I think you can now
appreciate how sexy Slytherins are,” Remus deadpanned.
“What?!” Harry exclaimed, sufficiently sidetracked from his urge to cry.
Remus chuckled, and Harry knew he’d been had. “I really didn’t need to hear about how you
think Severus is sexy,” he said ruefully. Then, he smirked mischievously. “I’ve seen him
naked and he just doesn’t do it for me.”
Remus choked. “Harry, you really shouldn’t say things like that,” he admonished.
“But it’s true,” Harry said, enjoying turning the tables on Remus.
At Remus’ look of warning, Harry relented. “It is true, but it was rather extreme
circumstances and, er, clinical,” he admitted. “It certainly wasn’t anything personal and it
wasn’t any kind of prank or anything.”
“The night you had to return because he was injured,” Remus surmised.
Harry nodded and at Remus’ request explained more about what had happened that night.
“You know he would not be happy with you telling anyone about that,” Remus said.
“But I’ve only told you,” Harry said, panicked.
“I suggest for the sake of your safety that you keep it that way,” Remus said in amusement.
“I don’t plan on telling anyone else,” Harry muttered. He looked back to Remus. “You
haven’t really answered whether there’s something between you or not. I, uh, we’ve
discussed the fact that I seem to be behind on what’s going on with everyone, but the last I
realized, you were with Tonks.”
Remus didn’t answer for a minute, frowning thoughtfully. “Tonks was not quite as easy to
convince, as it appears it was easy for you to convince Ginny,” he said finally. “Tonks and I
are much better off as friends. I believe she is attending the wedding this weekend as
Charlie’s date.”
“As for Severus and I, let’s just say that I am hopeful,” Remus said. “You and Draco have
had some past history to deal with. Severus and I have much more to sort out,” he said
ruefully.
“You really like him, though, don’t you?” Harry asked. He didn’t need to see Remus’ nod or
fond smile to know the answer. “Well, I reckon I hope that things work out for you, then.”
“We’ll work things out,” Remus said confidently. “Especially since you’ve been helping out
so much.”
“Me?!” Harry exclaimed.
“Yes, you,” Remus retorted. “Your acceptance of him and the Malfoys, despite them being
your enemies for so long, has given Severus an opportunity to see things differently. As has
your relationship with Draco. Severus is not nearly as dismissive of there being a possibility
of anything between us.”
“Glad I could help?” Harry said, turning it into a question.
Remus chuckled. “For someone so young, you are an amazing role model for the rest of us,”
he said, lightly teasing but his tone filled with affection.
“All right, now you’ve just crossed the line,” Harry said, scowling. “I am not a bloody role
model. I think I’m done with our little chat,” he said in disgust.
“Go spend some time with Draco and Victoria,” Remus said agreeably, clearly amused by
Harry’s sudden attitude. “You do feel better now?”
Harry gave him another hug. “Yeah, I do,” he said softly. “Thanks, Remus.”
“Anytime, Harry,” Remus said before shooing him out of the room.
Harry found Draco sitting on the floor of Victoria’s nursery, rolling a ball back and forth with
her. He dropped to the floor beside them, simply happy to be there.
“Hi, pumpkin,” he said to Victoria, grinning widely at her. She immediately came crawling
over to him.
“Pumpkin?!”
“She loves pumpkin juice,” Harry explained innocently. “I thought it seemed fitting.”
“You can’t call her pumpkin!” Draco exclaimed.
“Sure I can, and she likes it even,” Harry said cheerfully, tickling the little girl on his lap.
“Potter, it’s demeaning,” Draco snapped.
“No, it’s not,” Harry retorted, rolling his eyes. “And it’s not like I’m mangling her name this
time, so I don’t see why you’re complaining.”
“Why can’t you just call her by her name?” Draco asked.
“It’s simply an endearment. I’m sure you must’ve heard of them before,” Harry said
sarcastically.
“Harry,” Draco said irritably. “I know what an endearment is. I simply don’t understand how
you could possibly consider ‘pumpkin’ an endearment.”
Harry figured he was in pretty good shape, since Draco had switched from using Potter back
to Harry already. “I like it and she likes it,” he said with a shrug. “It’s a sweet name, like her.”
Draco closed his eyes, and Harry was fairly certain he’d won now. Draco changed the subject
slightly. “Harry, why exactly are you so insistent on using some nickname, or endearment, for
Victoria?” he asked curiously.
Harry shifted uncomfortably. “I just want to, that’s all,” he said.
“Tell me,” Draco demanded.
Shaking his head, he tried simply ignoring Draco, hoping he’d let it drop. He had no idea
what had made him think that would work when Draco whacked him on the back of the head
with one of Victoria’s toys.
“Ouch! What was that for?” Harry yelled, rubbing the back of his head.
“If I have to listen to you call her pumpkin, then I want to know why,” Draco said.
“Fine, you didn’t have to hurt me,” Harry said, glaring at Draco. He turned away, though, not
able to meet Draco’s eyes when he explained. “I just always wished that someone would talk
to me that way. Dudley always had Aunt Petunia doting on him and calling him all kinds of
nice names.” He paused, grimacing. “Well, they were meant to be nice names, anyway. The
only thing I ever got called was ‘freak’ or ‘boy’,” he said flatly. He didn’t say it, but he had
the feeling that Draco could probably figure out that he just wanted Victoria to feel special
and loved. Something he’d never felt when he was little.
There was a long silence and Harry tried the “ignoring Draco” method again. It didn’t work
this time, either, but he got different results. Draco kissed the back of his head before
wrapping his arms around him. “I reckon I can live with pumpkin,” he said. “She is terribly
sweet and she’s round enough like a pumpkin.”
“Draco!” Harry admonished, laughing. “I didn’t call her pumpkin because she’s all rounded.”
“Look at that face, though,” Draco insisted, looking at her over Harry’s shoulder. Harry could
tell he was attempting to suppress his own laugh. “It doesn’t look like she even has any
cheekbones.”
Harry twisted his head back and gave Draco a smacking kiss. “You are a vain git,” he
declared.
“And you are just now learning this?” Draco asked innocently.
Harry rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he looked down at Victoria. “So, what have you
been playing with your daddy?” he asked her.
While Harry and Draco had argued over endearments, Victoria had settled herself into
Harry’s lap and was simply chewing on a small, stuffed owl that she’d dragged with her. She
looked up at him and grinned around the beak in her mouth before gnawing at it happily
again.
Draco chuckled. “We were playing with the ball, but she seems to have gotten sidetracked
now that you’re here,” he said. He moved to sit beside Harry, facing him.
“So, what were you talking about with Lupin?” he asked finally, his hand reaching to trace
his thumb along Harry’s cheekbone.
Harry realized he probably looked a wreck and that Draco obviously knew he’d been crying.
“Um, a lot of things,” he hedged.
“Ah, yes, I’m grateful I now understand why you were so upset,” Draco said sarcastically,
rolling his eyes.
“Oh, shut it,” Harry said ruefully, knowing Draco was concerned. “I wasn’t really upset.
Well, I was at first, but Remus helped me understand that maybe I’m not as bad at being a
friend or a part of a family as I thought,” he admitted.
Draco was scowling. “Why would you think you were bad at it?” he asked.
Harry didn’t answer immediately, gently brushing wispy, black locks of hair away from
Victoria’s chubby cheeks and tucking them behind her ears. He debated whether to tell Draco
about the conversation or not. It seemed rather risky as he would be admitting to a lot of
things that he wasn’t sure Draco was ready to deal with.
“Harry?”
Head still bowed from looking at Victoria, Harry peeked up at Draco through his lashes.
“Don’t do that,” Draco groaned softly. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you.”
Harry lifted his head fully, blinking in confusion. “Do what?” he asked.
“You don’t even know when you’re being a manipulative little sod, do you?” Draco asked
dryly.
“What are you talking about?” Harry asked, completely bewildered.

Draco slipped Harry’s glasses off. “It would’ve been more effective without these,” he said
conversationally, before he leaned forward to kiss Harry languidly.
“Mmmmm,” Harry murmured lazily when Draco pulled back again. “You’ll have to tell me
how I manipulated to get that so I can do it again,” he said.
Draco smirked in amusement, shaking his head. “You’re too good at it as it is,” he drawled.
“You don’t need me giving you help. It’s just too bad you still have Victoria on your lap or
you probably would’ve gotten more out of it.”
Harry glanced down at her, smiling and not really minding that he hadn’t gotten more than
the wonderfully sweet kiss. “That’s okay,” he said softly. “I’m happy to be able to spend
some time with her, too. Even if it is just holding her while she chews away on the poor owl.”
When he glanced back up, Draco had his head tilted, studying Harry curiously. “Did your
conversation with Lupin have something to do with Victoria?” he asked, perceptively.
“Partly,” Harry admitted. He bit at his lip nervously before he quietly recounted his
conversation with Remus, only leaving out the part about Remus and Severus. Draco said
nothing, simply listening closely.
“So, Lupin means that much to you?” Draco asked when Harry had stopped speaking.
“Yes,” Harry answered quietly.
“Victoria means that much to you?” Draco asked next, his tone eerily neutral.
“Yes,” Harry whispered, tensing as he waited for Draco’s reaction. He didn’t want Draco
upset with him for presuming such a role in her life. His heart sank as Draco lifted Victoria
off his lap and he closed his eyes, cursing himself for actually admitting how he felt.
Suddenly, Draco shoved him backwards. His wrists were swiftly trapped under Draco’s hands
as Draco straddled his body, holding him firmly in place. Harry didn’t resist but he was
startled by the attack.
“Do you really want to be a father to Victoria?” Draco asked, his eyes narrowed.
“I’m sorry,” Harry said.
Draco was still staring down at him, not moving as he kept Harry pinned to the floor
“Oh, fuck it all,” Harry moaned miserably. “Why’d I have to muck everything up by saying
anything?”
Victoria obviously hadn’t been moved far when Draco had set her onto the floor because she
had crawled back to them and was now trying to insinuate herself between their bodies.
Draco let go of Harry’s wrists to set her back again before he cupped Harry’s face in his
hands and kissed him. Harry was as surprised by the kiss at this point as he’d been surprised
by being shoved flat onto the floor.
Harry couldn’t help but respond, but the kiss was so tender that it was almost painful. He was
horribly confused, but he was completely unable to resist this boy who had captured him.
“Harry,” Draco whispered his name, barely parting his lips from Harry’s.
A little afraid of what to expect now, Harry opened his eyes.
“I think I’m in love with you,” Draco whispered.
Harry’s heart that had sunk not long before was now attempting to strangle his throat. He
couldn’t speak with the emotions overwhelming him, and tried nodding slightly.
Draco smiled a little. “Is that your way of telling me you feel the same way?” he asked.
Harry nodded again.
“I’m glad you want to act as a parent to Victoria,” Draco said softly. “I couldn’t be with
someone permanently that didn’t want to be a part of her life.” He hesitated for a moment. “I
hope you know this is scaring the hell out of me. I’m barely seventeen, in love with Harry
Potter, and want to plan a future with him.”
“It scares me, too,” Harry whispered, finally finding his voice. “But I know I love you.”
Draco kissed him again. Harry couldn’t have been happier. It was crazy and wonderful and he
didn’t know exactly where everything was leading, but he was elated that Draco felt the same
way.
Draco dropped his forehead onto Harry’s, sighing softly. “I have a child attempting to crawl
up my back,” he said.
Harry was startled into laughter. “I know. She’s standing on my legs,” he said.
Draco pulled back a little, shaking his head in amusement. “How’d we end up like this?” he
asked.
“You decided to scare the fuck out of me and attack,” Harry said dryly.
“Ah, yes, I wanted to make sure you got the message that you were being an idiot for
worrying about where you fit in with me and Victoria,” Draco said with a half-smile. “Now,
help get her off my back,” he ordered.
Laughing, Harry reached behind Draco and snagged Victoria’s jumper, lifting her and moving
her back to the floor. Draco sat up, still straddling Harry, but Victoria was right back,
attempting to crawl on top of Harry as well. Draco lifted her and plopped her down on
Harry’s stomach in front of him.
“Are you two quite comfortable?” Harry asked wryly.
“I do believe we are,” Draco said with a grin.

“Dada,” Victoria said happily.
“You know, Mum says that when Victoria’s saying that to us, she’s basically calling us both
her daddy,” Draco said conversationally.
“She is not,” Harry scoffed. “’Da’ is just one of her first little sound words.” He picked her
up and began bench pressing her, causing her to squeal and giggle. He brought her down to
his face, kissing her on the nose before lifting her into the air again, causing more happy
squeals.
Draco shrugged, his hands absently stroking patterns over Harry’s abdomen as he watched
Harry playing with Victoria. “Mum says for a lot of babies, their first word is daddy,” he said.
“I like the idea of her calling us both daddy.”
Harry held his arms extended, tilting Victoria to the side so he could see Draco’s face. “You
mean that?” he asked.
“I do,” Draco said softly, smiling. “But when she gets older, I’ll be ‘father’ and you can keep
‘dad’,” he said.
Harry’s heart was fit to burst, but he kept the mood light. “Of course,” he said, rolling his
eyes. “You must keep up the proper image.” His wide grin betrayed his happiness, and Draco
grinned in return.
“You are stuck with us proper Malfoys now, Harry,” Draco drawled pleasantly. “Whether you
want to be or not.”
“I’m still surprised to hear myself admitting it, but I want to be,” Harry said. He brought
Victoria back nose-to-nose with him. “Are you all right with me being a part of your life,
Victoria?”
“Dada,” she said, her wide eyes shining with happiness and her cheeks flushed from the
game Harry was playing with her. Harry swooped her back into the air again, feeling like he
was flying himself.
His emotions were all over the place anymore and he sure as hell couldn’t keep track of them.
Over the last hour he’d gone from one extreme to the other and back again – a few times.
Right at this moment, though, he felt lighter than he had for a long while.
*****
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Notes

Chapter Thirty-Two
Harry fell back onto the bed feeling blissfully content. It had been a rocky start to the day, but
the rest of the afternoon and evening had been wonderful. After dinner, they’d all retired to
the drawing room.
Remus and Narcissa had been conversing pleasantly about a wide array of topics before
Remus had politely excused himself. Harry had been a little concerned, but Remus reassured
him before he left that he was perfectly fine and that Harry should simply enjoy the rest of
the evening.
Draco had challenged Harry to a game of Wizard’s chess to distract him, where Harry had
lost badly, but he’d enjoyed it nonetheless. Victoria had played on the floor, crawling around
and getting attention from everyone.
It had been a relaxing evening, and Harry couldn’t help but think that was how families were
supposed to be. It had reminded him of evenings at the Burrow – only much quieter.
Harry and Draco had worked together to give Victoria a bath and prepare her for bed earlier.
Harry didn’t care one whit that they were too young to be parents. He had loved every minute
of the rather domestic evening. He was looking forward to doing it all over again the next
day.
“You look goofily sappy,” Draco said dryly, standing beside the bed and staring down at him.
“So, what’s your point?” Harry retorted, not loosing the goofy grin.
“Just stating a fact,” Draco said, a half smile curling his lips. The half smile slowly turned
wicked. “We have some real privacy here finally. What do you want to do?” he asked.
In an instant, Harry’s mind shifted priorities and he was prepared to do whatever Draco had
in mind. “Whatever you want,” he said.
“What if I told you I wanted you to strip and then sit back on the bed?” Draco asked.
“I can do that,” Harry said, sitting up.
Draco smirked at him. “You’re a little eager, aren’t you?” he said in amusement.
Harry moved to kneel on the edge of the bed, pulling Draco close to him. “Draco, I love
being with you. I love how you make me feel,” he said. He tugged Draco closer until his
knees were against the bed and their bodies were pressed together. “Do you feel how hard I
already am for you?” he asked huskily. “I feel how hard you are, and I think you’re eager as
well.”
Draco groaned, unable to deny it. Their mouths met in a passionate kiss, tongues exploring
each other’s mouths as eagerly as they’d been talking about. It wasn’t until Harry started to
move against Draco that Draco pushed him back, panting heavily.
“Strip,” Draco ordered.
Harry blinked dazedly for a moment before remembering what Draco had said he wanted.
When he did remember, he moved quickly to strip his clothes off before climbing back onto
the bed.
Naked and incredibly hard, Harry sat leaning back against the headboard as Draco directed.
He had no idea what Draco had planned, but he was more than willing to go along if they
were both going to be naked.
His eyes tracked Draco’s movements, watching as the other boy methodically removed his
clothing, his movements slow and deliberate. He watched curiously as Draco stepped to the
nightstand and removed a small jar with some clear substance inside.
Harry’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Draco, where’d that come from?” he asked.
Draco smirked wickedly. “It came from your little bag of goodies that the matching pair gave
you,” he admitted, climbing up onto the bed.
“You’ve been into the bag without me?” Harry couldn’t keep himself from asking.
Draco paused, his eyes darting to Harry, searching his expression.

“Nevermind,” Harry said quickly. The twins had said it was Harry’s birthday present, but it
had clearly been meant for both of them. It wasn’t Draco’s fault that Harry hadn’t been
around at all and that Draco had clearly found a bit of time and privacy to inspect the
contents.
“No,” Draco said slowly, still searching Harry’s expression. “I wanted this to be exciting. I
didn’t expect you to be . . . hurt?” he said, turning it into a somewhat bemused question.
“I’m not hurt,” Harry swiftly denied. He allowed himself to rake his eyes over Draco’s body,
kneeling naked on the bed before him. “And this is exciting,” he breathed, staring at Draco’s
obvious arousal jutting forth from pale blond curls.
Harry might have been lying about feeling a little hurt, but it wasn’t exactly difficult to let it
go under the circumstances. He was far more interested in what Draco intended to do with
that little jar than where he’d got it from.
Draco hesitated a little longer and Harry moved to kiss him. The kiss quickly went from
reassuring to deep and passionate, until Draco finally broke it by shoving at Harry. They were
both breathing heavy when they parted.
Harry leaned back against the headboard again, watching Draco with heavy-lidded eyes.
Draco looked dazed, but a little nervousness still crept back into his expression.
“I, um, wanted to surprise you,” Draco said finally. “You were gone. I finally had a little bit
of privacy from my mother.” He hesitated again, glancing at the jar in his hand. “I didn’t
think about the fact that it was in fact your present,” he admitted quietly. “I just wanted to
learn what the fuck I was doing so I would know how to actually please you when I got a
chance.”
“Well, you’ve surprised me,” Harry said huskily. “So now you just have to show me what
you’ve learned.” It really wasn’t difficult at all to forgive Draco after a confession like that.
“That’s what I was going to do,” Draco admitted, obviously having lost his confidence. “I
was going to show you, then I wanted you to fuck me. I didn’t intend to come out sounding
like a selfish prat,” he said, grimacing.
The last words washed right past Harry’s ears unheeded. “You want me to fuck you?” he
breathed, eyes widening. “Really fuck you? You told me I was being impatient.”
“I’ve been patient. I’ve waited a long time to be fucked by a boy,” Draco said defensively.
“I’m disgustingly glad I’ve been forced to wait and that you’ll be my first, but it doesn’t
mean I want to wait any longer.”
Harry sat blinking at him in astonishment. “You do know that while you may have learned
more specifics about how the hell to go about this, I haven’t,” he said slowly. “I still don’t
have a bloody clue as to what I’m doing.”
Draco bit his lip nervously. “Well, that’s partly why I don’t know if I’m just being a selfish
prat again,” he admitted. “I don’t really mean to be selfish, but what I was planning . . . ,” he
trailed off uncertainly.
Harry was all for soothing Draco’s fears and was actually grateful that Draco was talking to
him like this. He realized Draco tended to be a lot of talk and then got anxious when it came
to the reality of a situation. However, considering that he was fairly certain they wanted the
same thing, this was getting to be too much. “Draco, I’m hard and aching – for you,” he said
firmly. “I don’t know what you had in mind, but I wish you’d get back to it – now.”
“I wanted you to watch me prepare myself for you,” Draco finally admitted.
Harry inhaled sharply, then nodded fervently his agreement. “I’ve always been a learn by
seeing rather than a learn by reading type of person,” he said. “I’m happy with you reading
the book from the twins, and I’ll just learn from you – if that’s what makes you happy,” he
added earnestly. He was willing to say whatever Draco wanted if he’d just continue on with
his original plan.
Draco’s smirk slowly formed again. “Does the thought of watching me turn you on, Harry?”
he drawled the question.
“Oh gods, yes,” Harry said, his eyes roaming over Draco’s body again.
“Then watch,” Draco purred seductively. He laid back on the bed, bending his knees and
planting his feet flat and spread wide apart. With a pillow raising his hips, he was fully on
display for Harry.
Harry’s breathing was already heavy and Draco hadn’t really done anything yet. Draco
seemed to have found his courage again from Harry’s expression, and his eyes stayed trained
on Harry’s face as his hands began to roam over his own body.
Harry was transfixed by the sight of Draco sprawled out before him like this. The temptation
to reach out and touch was strong, but the desire to see exactly what Draco was going to do
was even stronger. He’d never thought about the idea of watching someone else wank, but his
eyes grew heavy-lidded as he watched Draco’s hand wrap around his cock. He squeezed, a
soft moan escaping his lips, before he stroked lightly a few times.
Swallowing heavily, Harry ruthlessly pushed aside the urge to stroke his own cock. He did
not want to come anytime soon and stop this erotic display taking place in front of him.
He watched as Draco dipped his fingers into the jar. Lifting one leg closer to his chest, Draco
reached behind to probe gently at his entrance. One finger was pushed inside that puckered
hole and Harry couldn’t have torn his eyes away if he’d tried.
He continued to watch Draco prepare himself, another finger disappearing before both were
moving in and out. Draco was fucking himself on his fingers, Harry realized, and from the
whimpering sounds coming from his mouth, he was quite enjoying it.
Harry flicked his eyes to Draco’s face, and moaned at the sight of the lust displayed in his
expression. “Gods, Draco, you’re sexy as hell,” Harry breathed.
Draco’s lashes fluttered as his eyes closed. “I like you watching me,” he admitted. “Merlin, I
swear I can even feel you watching me when my eyes are shut.”
Harry moved. He needed to touch. He ran one hand lightly down Draco’s thigh, causing him
to tremble and his eyes to snap open again.
“Harry, fuck me,” Draco said, although his command came out sounding more like a plea. He
moved quickly, dipping his fingers back into the jar of lubricant resting nearby on the bed. He
smoothed his slickened fingers over Harry’s cock, causing Harry to hiss at the pleasurable
shock.
He didn’t think either of them were going to last long, but allowed Draco to direct their
positions and help guide Harry’s cock to where he wanted it to be. Harry was watching
Draco’s face closely. He saw Draco’s slight wince of pain as he pushed inside, but Draco
insisted that he keep going.
Harry slid into that tight, wet heat slowly, gritting his teeth against the urge to simply thrust
hard. Draco told him to wait when he was fully inside, and Harry was actually grateful for the
opportunity to attempt to rein in some control over his body. It was so difficult because he
was amazed to be inside Draco, to be a part of him. He leaned down to kiss him, Draco
eagerly deepening the kiss.
Eventually, Harry began to move at Draco’s urging. He thrust into Draco, staring down at
him. He was able to hold onto his control a little as he was focused on Draco losing all of his.
Draco was giving himself to Harry in abandon. He was lost in a haze of pleasure as Harry
gripped his cock and began to stroke in time with his cock thrusting in and out of Draco’s
arse.
Draco came with a shout, pearly streams landing on his chest and abdomen. Harry was
unprepared for Draco’s orgasm to pulse around his cock and it tipped him the rest of the way
over the edge.
Harry didn’t move at first afterwards, trying to catch his breath. Finally, he reached to gently
cup Draco’s face. “All right?” he asked.
Draco nodded slightly, smiling as he pressed his face into Harry’s hand. Harry pulled out,
causing Draco to wince slightly. “Sore?” Harry asked, wincing sympathetically along with
him.
“A little,” Draco admitted. “But it’s a good soreness.”
They cleaned up with a few charms after they’d found their wands, and settled back into the
bed tiredly. Harry didn’t think he could be more satisfied or happy than he was at that
moment, curled up with Draco spooned behind him.
*****
The next morning, Harry and Draco went downstairs for breakfast in good spirits.
“Good morning,” Harry said cheerfully.
Narcissa returned the greeting warmly.
“Dada,” Victoria squealed happily upon seeing them.
“Hello, pumpkin,” Harry said, taking her from Narcissa. “And how are you this morning?”
She giggled as Draco tickled her, both of them smiling. With a kiss to her forehead, Harry
settled her into her feeding chair.
Draco sat on the other side of her and started feeding her bites of porridge. Harry gave her
some chunks of banana and a piece of toast before he started stuffing his own breakfast into
his mouth.
“Do you know how Remus is doing?” Harry asked.
“He is fine, Harry,” Narcissa said gently. “I believe having Severus’ potion again made last
night much more pleasant for him. I checked on him earlier and he is simply resting now.”
“That’s good,” Harry said. He realized that even as long as he’d known Remus, he still didn’t
really know what it was like for him.
Narcissa turned the attention back to Victoria. “She is quite happy to have you both here this
morning,” she said.
“I’m happy to be here, too,” Harry said, grinning at Victoria. “I’ve got the whole day to
relax.”
“You have spoken too soon,” Severus said, coming into the room.
They all glanced up at him. Severus did not look to be in a good mood.
“What’s wrong?” Harry asked quickly.
“Harry, come with me,” he commanded, stalking towards the potions room.
Harry exchanged glances with Draco and Narcissa, but hurried to follow. Severus swiftly
warded the room after Harry had entered, then gestured for Harry to sit.
“What’s wrong?” Harry repeated, watching as Severus leaned against the mantle of the
fireplace. Having Severus stare down at him with that calculating expression was not making
him feel at all comfortable.
“You are certain that you need Lucius?” Severus asked.
Harry blinked in surprise. That hadn’t been what he was expecting. “Yes,” he answered.
“He’s the only one who can get me that locket.”
Severus nodded curtly and moved to sit down across from him. “Then, we will be doing this
today,” he said.
“Today?” Harry repeated.
“You are rested?” Severus countered.
Harry grimaced. “Yeah, I am. I thought I was actually going to have an easy day,” he
muttered. He could feel his body thrumming with tension again and took a deep breath. “So, I
gather you’ve figured out how to do this,” he said, his voice stronger.
“Indeed, I have,” Severus said, inclining his head slightly.
Harry spent the next two hours going over the details with Severus until he could repeat the
plans to the man’s satisfaction. Under Severus’ direction, Harry called for Winky and had her
bring the things he needed, stuffing it all into his rucksack.
“Harry, you will say nothing to Draco or Narcissa,” Severus warned.
Harry nodded his understanding. “I’d rather neither of them know until after it’s all done,” he
said. He looked back to Severus. “You’ll talk to Remus?”
“It is necessary,” Severus said sharply.
“I only meant whether you would tell him instead of me,” Harry said irritably. “Remus knew
what I planned to do and didn’t question me before, but I’m not sure what he’ll say now that
it’s really happening.”
“I will handle him,” Severus said.
Finally exiting the potions room, Harry and Severus returned to the kitchen. Harry paused in
the doorway, taking in the picture of Narcissa, Draco and Victoria. Victoria was cooing
happily from her position in Draco’s lap, but Narcissa and Draco were watching him
anxiously.
Severus nodded a greeting to the others before sweeping through the kitchen, exiting through
the other doorway leading to the rest of the house.
“Harry?” Draco said.
“I’m sorry, Draco,” Harry said, walking over to him. “It seems my day is going to be busy
after all.”
“What are you doing now?” Draco asked warily.
“Severus has given me a long list of things to do. It’s time for me to make things difficult for
Voldemort,” Harry said grimly.
Draco snorted. “Isn’t that what you’ve been doing?” he asked.

“Maybe,” Harry said, a wicked smirk forming on his features. “But now . . . now I’ve got
Severus helping me to fuck up Voldemort’s world.”
*****
“6 – 2 – 4 – 4 – 2”
“Harry Potter and Remus Lupin here to see the Minister for Magic,” Harry announced.
Harry was both pleased and disturbed when the badges appeared. The badges indeed
reflected the information Harry had given. They didn’t reflect the reality that Severus was
Polyjuiced as Remus.
He met Severus’ gaze, feeling jittery. If it ever came to light what they were doing . . . Harry
didn’t want to think about it.
“Present the Gryffindor . . . play the situation as a Slytherin,” Severus said, his tone calm,
even, and meant to be reassuring.
Somehow, Harry did find it reassuring. Severus’ plan had taken Harry’s Chosen One public
image into account, and they would be using it to their advantage. Harry bemoaned the fact
that he would likely never find any peace in the Wizarding world, but he hadn’t argued with
Severus’ plan. He would do whatever it took to make this all work.
Harry’s gaze skittered away from the Fountain of Magical Brethren that had been restored,
walking with determined confidence directly to the security desk to check in their wands. Or
rather, check in his wand and Remus’ wand, which had been loaned to Severus.
“I need to see Mr. Scrimgeour,” Harry declared, before the man could run his scans. Severus
didn’t believe it would detect his Polyjuiced form, as the false Moody had been able to
infiltrate the Ministry, but Harry didn’t really want to take the chance.
“Mr. Scrimgeour is a busy man and does not see just anyone,” the security man said
condescendingly, focused on weighing Harry’s wand.
“He will see Harry Potter,” Harry said, smirking at the man and watching with amusement as
the man’s eyes flew upwards to search out Harry’s scar.
“Certainly, Mr. Potter,” the man said, his attitude changing instantly.
Harry listened as Severus calmly said he would direct Harry to the correct floor as he had
been there previously, negating the need for the escort that the security man was attempting
to get for them.
Getting into the lift, and out of sight of most of the people who had been watching after the
security man brought attention to them, Harry rolled his eyes. “That was fun,” he muttered
sarcastically under his breath, only loud enough for Severus to hear him. Severus smirked in
amusement, but refrained from comment due to their remaining audience.
Harry reckoned he should be thankful that those who were in the lift with him and Severus
were actually keeping a respectful distance. He seemed to have even more of a public image
than he had realized.
With a guiding hand on his shoulder, Severus directed him towards Scrimgeour’s offices.
Harry didn’t recognize the witch in the outer office, but she clearly recognized him.
“Harry Potter!” she exclaimed.
“Yes,” Harry said, refraining from rolling his eyes. “I need to see the Minister,” he said
firmly.
The secretary turned anxious. “I’m sorry, Mr. Potter, but the Minister is very busy today. He
said he wasn’t to be disturbed for any reason,” she said regretfully.
“He will see me,” Harry said. “Let him know that I’m here, please.”
“Perhaps if you could come back later this afternoon,” she suggested.
“No,” Harry said, to her astonishment. “Let him know that I am here.”
Her gaze flickered to Severus. “And who should I tell him is with you?” she asked.
“My apologies. This is Remus Lupin,” Harry said calmly.
“I really shouldn’t,” the witch hedged, glancing nervously at the closed door of Scrimgeour’s
office.
“He’ll want to know I’m here,” Harry said, starting to get irritated.
She obviously registered his irritation, shifting her nervous gaze to him. Taking a deep breath,
she moved to knock at Scrimgeour’s door.
“I told you I was not to be disturbed,” came Scrimgeour’s cold voice when the door opened.
“Mr. Potter is here with Mr. Lupin to see you,” she said quickly.
“Potter’s here?” Scrimgeour questioned in amazement.
Harry could only see the witch nodding in answer, before the door was suddenly opened
wider. He arched an eyebrow mockingly at Scrimgeour’s shock at seeing him there. “Hello,
Scrimgeour,” he said pleasantly.
Scrimgeour’s eyes narrowed as he took in Harry and his guest. “I am surprised to see you
here,” he admitted. “Can I take it that you have changed your mind?”
“Possibly,” Harry said, non-committal. “Do you have time to do some business with me
today?”
To Harry’s surprise, Mr. Weasley appeared in the doorway behind Scrimgeour. “Hello, Mr.
Weasley,” he said warmly, happy to see the man, even under the circumstances. It would
probably require even more explanations later, but it was still nice to see the man, especially
since he appeared to be working closely with Scrimgeour in changing the Ministry.
“Harry, Remus! What a pleasant surprise,” Arthur said, smiling. He looked curious about
their presence there, but still welcoming. He gave Harry a quick hug and exchanged greetings
with who he thought was Remus.
“Remus, I’m surprised to see you out and about today,” Mr. Weasley said in concern.
The fact that Remus would not normally be active the day after a full moon had been one of
the concerns, and in fact was at Grimmauld Place resting, but Severus had calmly declared
that they would have to make it work. He did look exhausted, but Severus had assured Harry
that he himself was not suffering from the exhaustion of the body he inhabited. Harry rather
doubted that, but also knew Severus was quite capable of ignoring the demands of his body
to do what needed to be done.
“I am rather tired, but fine,” Severus said mildly, sounding just as Remus would. “I simply
did not wish Harry to go about unescorted.”
Harry wanted to roll his eyes at the commiserating, concerned glances they exchanged.
“Weasley, it would appear that we will need to finish our meeting later,” Scrimgeour said,
eying the friendly greetings. Harry noticed the witch had resumed her post at the desk,
watching them all in astonishment.
“Of course,” Mr. Weasley said easily. “Should I remain on hand?” he asked, directing the
question to Harry more than Scrimgeour. Much to Scrimgeour’s irritation.
Severus spoke up before either Harry or Scrimgeour could answer. “Arthur, perhaps you
could wait with me while Harry speaks with the Minister?” he suggested.
Harry darted a look at Severus, even as Mr. Weasley accepted the suggestion pleasantly.
Severus was supposed to have been going in with him when he spoke to Scrimgeour. He
wasn’t given an opportunity to question the change in plans as Scrimgeour ushered him into
his office.
“So, what do I owe for this public visit?” Scrimgeour said with cynical amusement once they
were both seated.
Harry nodded his head in acknowledgement. He was certain Scrimgeour must have been a
Slytherin, and planned to ask Severus about it later to satisfy his curiosity. The man seemed
to work under the concept of giving something only to get something in return. Very much a
Slytherin way of thinking and he seemed to respect it in Harry’s dealings.
“I have some information for you,” Harry said evenly. “In exchange, I need your cooperation
for me and Remus to go to Azkaban to speak with some of the prisoners.”
“Why?” Scrimgeour asked immediately, clearly surprised and wary of Harry’s request.
“Because I need information as well,” Harry said, as if the answer was obvious.
Scrimgeour rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It is highly irregular for anyone to visit the
prison,” he said. “It is carefully guarded by both magical protections and the Dementors.”
“I realize that,” Harry said. “And I’m actually grateful to know that other magical protections
have finally been established there, as Voldemort can, and will, take control of the Dementors
again.”
“You know this?” Scrimgeour asked sharply. “Dumbledore did warn of the possibility, and
protections were implemented, but I still find it difficult to believe that You Know Who
would be able to control the Dementors.”
Harry grimaced, thinking about his experience down in the well just two days before. “Yes, I
know Voldemort can control them,” he admitted. “Although, I’m still not clear on how he can
exactly.”
“Potter, you are clearly aware of the situation,” Scrimgeour said. “No contact in or out of the
prison is necessary for people’s protection. It is entirely unsafe for you to visit there. The
human guards are heavily protected by magic and only visit twice a day to deliver meals
magically to the prisoners. Even they have no direct contact with the prisoners. It would not
be likely that you would find any sane enough to give you information.” He eyed Harry
critically. “Particularly once they realized it was you.”
“And if I’m lucky, insane rambling will give me the information I need,” Harry said grimly.
“It is that necessary that you go there – personally?” Scrimgeour asked.
Harry met his gaze unflinchingly. “Scrimgeour, I’m making progress in this war against
Voldemort, but I’m missing vital information. I’m positive that I can find out that information
from some of his followers. I don’t want to visit Azkaban, but it is necessary.”
Silence fell over the office as Scrimgeour turned everything over in his mind. “It would not
be good for the public image to know that their Chosen One was visiting Azkaban,” he said
finally.
“Glad you see that,” Harry said, smirking. “I happen to agree that it wouldn’t look good for
you if people knew you were risking me to the fate of the Dementors and insane prisoners.”
Scrimgeour scowled at him, but nodded in agreement. “So, tell me, Harry Potter, what do you
have for me?”
“I’m told the article will be in the issue available to the public on the first, two days from
now. I’ve also given you a public visit by coming here today,” Harry said. “I’m sure word is
already spreading that I’m here meeting with you.”
“That’s not enough for what you are asking,” Scrimgeour said sharply.
Harry held up a hand to forestall him. “I recognize that’s not enough,” he said. “The Ministry
has wanted to be able to make arrests, proving they are making progress. I’ve indirectly given
you a few minor arrests already with Voldemort’s attacks recently. I can now give you names
to make further arrests.”
Scrimgeour blinked at Harry’s audacity. “Who the hell are you, Potter?” he asked. “You are
only a child yet.”
Harry laughed harshly. “I’m a child who makes damned good use of his contacts,” he
answered.
“I’m coming to have a great deal of respect for you,” Scrimgeour said slowly.
Harry nodded his head in acknowledgement of the compliment. “With your help, and the help
of many others, I’m going to make damned sure that Voldemort doesn’t win,” he said. “We
will have a Wizarding world where we can all feel safe again. You do your part to truly clean
up the Ministry and I will do my part to get rid of the bastard who’s attempting to take it all
away from us.”
“Should I be worried about my job security?” Scrimgeour asked dryly. “Considering the fact
that you are already dictating many of my actions as Minister.”
Harry’s smile was more of a grimace. “I definitely do not want your job. My main concern is
dealing with megalomaniac Dark Lords.” His smile then turned more genuine, if a bit cheeky.
“I’m happy to provide suggestions, though.”
Scrimgeour actually smiled in return, shaking his head. “I’m unsure if accepting advice from
someone as young as you is good protocol, but it seems to be working so far,” he said.
Harry shrugged. “I’m young, not stupid,” he said. “And, as I’ve already said, I’ve got
excellent contacts.” He paused. “I’ve probably got almost as many advisors as you do,” he
said, frowning a little as that realization set in.
“I think our goals are ultimately the same – to create the best possible Wizarding world that
we can for the people so they can live their lives freely.” His voice unconsciously grew more
wistful. “A world where families can live without fear and prejudice.”
He made eye contact with Scrimgeour again, his voice stronger. “I’m not looking for fame
and publicity. You are more than welcome to take all of the credit for rounding up these
Death Eaters. I’m only looking for a bit of normalcy and peace,” he said.
“And achieving peace requires you to visit Azkaban,” Scrimgeour said sarcastically.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Harry said.
Scrimgeour sighed heavily. “I have to wonder if your job is more difficult than mine,” he
said. “Let’s hear the names, then, and after that we’ll get you to Azkaban. I presume you wish
to go today.”
Harry nodded before beginning to list the names, and locations, Severus had given him.
Severus had assured him that it wouldn’t compromise his position with Voldemort, but he had
to wonder who would be receiving the punishment for these Death Eaters being caught. Five
of them were actually located within the Ministry, which could at least be attributed to the
Ministry clean up of employees. He did warn Scrimgeour not to act immediately on all of
them. Making it look more random would help ease any suspicions.
Scrimgeour was surprised at some of the names, and questioned Harry as to where he was
getting his information. Harry wouldn’t say, only insisting that the information was reliable.
He knew Scrimgeour was still suspicious, but considering how valuable the information was,
he didn’t push too hard.
Afterwards, Harry was given detailed and highly classified information regarding the location
of Azkaban and the magical protections involved that the guards used to keep them safe when
they went there. Scrimgeour wasn’t happy that he insisted he would be travelling alone, with
only Remus Lupin for company, but he was still allowing it.
Harry was surprised that Scrimgeour was cooperating. The situation was highly unorthodox
and it was a little nerve-wracking to have this much influence over the Minister for Magic.
He was grateful for the cooperation, nonetheless.
He wasn’t surprised when Scrimgeour insisted on escorting them personally back to the
lobby, making sure they were seen by as many people as possible along the way. It was with
great relief that Harry finally Flooed to The Leaky Cauldron with Severus and entered
Diagon Alley.
“Oh, Merlin,” Harry breathed, heading towards the twins’ flat. “I can’t believe that just
happened.”
“But you were successful,” Severus said, only a slight question in his tone, considering that
Harry had already indicated non-verbally that it had gone as they’d wanted.
“Yeah,” Harry said. “I’m just not sure why I was successful. I mean, I know why. It’s because
I’m the bloody Chosen One and all that rot, but it’s still a little scary to have that much
influence,” he admitted.
“You did well,” Severus said. “But it will only get more difficult from here.”
Harry let Severus and himself into the twins’ flat. He’d already informed them that he’d be
stopping in briefly, and his rucksack had been sent ahead with Winky. Fred and George had
left the running of their shop to their assistants and were waiting for him.
“Hey Harry, Remus,” Fred greeted cheerfully. “More dangerous deeds to accomplish today?”
“You could say that,” Harry said, smiling ruefully.
“Anything we can help with?” George asked.

“Mainly I just need you to ignore the fact that you’ve ever seen me today,” Harry admitted.
“But I could also use some more of your fireworks and such to replenish the supply I’ve been
keeping in the cloak pockets. You and Draco used up a bunch of it the other day.”
“That we can do,” George said, already moving to the shelves.
“I just need your bedroom for a minute,” Harry said.
The twins gestured for him to go ahead, but were obviously curious as they watched Harry
disappear with who they thought was Remus.
Severus swiftly erected Privacy wards. “I think I need to revise my opinion of those two,” he
said.
“They’re a good lot,” Harry said, grinning. His grin fell away, though, as he quickly
recounted his conversation with Scrimgeour. He found he wasn’t overly surprised when
Severus admitted that he’d taken the opportunity to talk with Mr. Weasley to find out more
about what he’d been doing with Scrimgeour and to pass subtle hints of information.
Harry brought out his new cloak, while Severus drank a potion to counter the Polyjuice in his
system, turning him back to his normal self. Harry handed the cloak over. It wouldn’t do for
the twins to see Severus.
“I will return shortly with the rat,” Severus said.
Harry nodded and watched as Severus disappeared under the cloak. He returned to the twins’
main room and watched with them as their front door opened and closed of its own accord.
“I gather Remus needed to leave,” George said dryly.
“He’ll be back soon,” Harry said, biting his lip nervously as he continued to stare at the door.
Severus had refused to say how he was managing to steal Pettigrew away. Harry was fairly
certain that Severus would take the punishment for his disappearance, though, just as he had
for the Malfoys’ disappearance.
Given a few minutes to think, he was feeling a little sick about what they were doing. He
wasn’t regretting the decision, as Pettigrew deserved his fate, but he still wasn’t all that happy
he was causing the man’s death. He’d kept Remus and Sirius from killing the man, and now,
just a few years later, he was doing it.
On the other hand, even during the events at the end of third year, he’d intended for Pettigrew
to be handed over to the Dementors. He was simply handing him over to the Dementors
under far different circumstances.
It was disturbing to be placing himself in the role of judge and executioner, and he had to
wonder if he was any different than Crouch had been when he sentenced Sirius without a fair
trial. Thoughts of Sirius being sentenced brought Harry’s anger back to the fore. Pettigrew
deserved this, and Harry was resolved. Others might condemn him for his decision, but Harry
was going ahead with the plans and he refused to regret it.
“Harry, are you all right, mate?” Fred asked in concern. “You’re terribly pale.”
“I’m fine,” Harry said. “It’s just not one of my more pleasant days.”
“More unpleasant than the other day?” George asked dryly, only to raise his eyebrows in
surprise when Harry nodded.
“What could be more unpleasant than running into You Know Who and a pack of
Dementors?” Fred asked in disbelief.
Harry wondered what they would say if he told them he was planning on killing someone.
“Harry?” George questioned.
Harry shook his head, knowing he couldn’t tell them, even though they’d probably approve
of Pettigrew finally being punished. “I can’t tell you anything,” he said. “This is by far the
craziest thing I’ve ever attempted to do, though.”
“That’s a heavy statement, coming from you,” said Fred, admiration in his tone.
“It’s not an exaggeration,” Harry said solemnly.
“Harry,” George began, pausing before he continued. “You will still be around come
tomorrow, won’t you?”
“I don’t plan on dying or being captured,” Harry retorted, but there wasn’t a bit of humour in
his voice, which told the twins more than anything that both were a possibility.
Harry was extremely thankful Severus was on his side and the one planning and coordinating
all this. Severus’ abilities and sense of self-preservation gave him a much higher chance of
succeeding with this insane plan.
“We don’t want to know what you’re doing, do we?” Fred stated, more than questioned.
“No, you don’t,” Harry answered flatly.
Severus arrived back at the flat, already Polyjuiced back into Remus. Harry looked at him
questioningly, receiving a curt nod. Severus had a rat stunned in one of his pockets. Harry
shuddered.
*****
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Notes

Chapter Thirty-Three
Harry asked the twins to load the pockets of the cloak before disappearing into their bedroom
again.
“Are you ready for this?” Severus asked, watching Harry closely.
“As I’ll ever be,” Harry answered.
Severus pulled out the stunned rat, and Harry was sure that he was ready. With a sour taste in
his mouth, he eyed the rat he’d known as Scabbers for so long. He watched warily as Severus
said the incantation to transform him back to his human form, bound him and then revived
him.
Pettigrew searched his surroundings wildly. “Where am I? Remus? Harry?” he questioned in

astonished disbelief.
He would never know that it was actually Severus. Severus had told Harry earlier that Remus
was extremely satisfied that Pettigrew would think that it was him helping to lead him to his
punishment.
“You’re finally going to be punished, Pettigrew,” Harry spat angrily.

“P-p-punished?” Pettigrew stuttered fearfully.
“You’re going to Azkaban where you deserved to be many, many years ago,” Harry said
coldly.
“No! You can’t! I’ll die there. You didn’t want me to die, Harry,” Pettigrew said, trying to
appeal to him.
“What I said is that we’d hand you over to the Dementors,” Harry corrected, watching with
satisfaction as Pettigrew’s eyes widened as he obviously remembered.
“Remus, you won’t let this happen,” Pettigrew said, trying to appeal to him instead.
Severus grimaced in disgust. “I am not about to save your worthless hide,” he said. “Harry,
let’s get this done.”
Harry nodded, taking a deep breath.
“What are you going to do?” Pettigrew asked fearfully, visibly cowering, even within his
bindings.
“I saved your life that day three years ago,” Harry said fiercely. “Because of that, you owe
me a life debt that I intend to collect on now. You will soon find yourself magically bound to
follow my command . . . that will ultimately lead to your death.”
“I-imperius?” Pettigrew managed to ask.
“No, but it’s close enough,” Harry admitted. “It’ll essentially act in the same way.”
“You will be bound by the magic, Peter,” Severus said coldly. “Unlike Imperius, no one will
be able to detect the use of an Unforgivable. This magic is much older, and no one would
interfere.” Severus’ smile was feral. “Not that anyone will know, of course. You are going to
be giving up your life for the side that you turned your back on so many years ago.”
“Your death is not just punishment,” Harry explained to the confused and scared Pettigrew. “I
need Lucius Malfoy’s help, and you’re going to give him to me.”
“L-like Crouch?” Pettigrew questioned in disbelief.
“Ah, it would appear you are beginning to understand your fate,” Severus said
condescendingly.
“You can’t!” Pettigrew exclaimed. He turned his watery gaze on Harry. “Malfoy is evil. You
can’t free him. You can’t lock me up to die!”
“Evil or not, I need him,” Harry said flatly, unmoved by Pettigrew’s pleading and
whimpering. “And you deserve to die in Azkaban. It’s where you should’ve been a long time
ago. My only regret in sending you there is that Sirius’ name will never be cleared.”
“A signed confession under the effects of Veritaserum should help clear his name,” Severus
suggested smoothly.
Harry’s eyes jerked to his. Severus hadn’t said anything about this. He ignored Pettigrew’s
blubbering, listening as Severus explained that the parchment could be spelled so that it
would indicate Pettigrew’s magical signature. It wouldn’t be perfect proof but, when the time
was right, Harry would be able to take the document to the Ministry and clear Sirius’ name
and bring out the truth.
Harry and Severus were both shocked when Pettigrew spoke up and offered to write the
confession, without being forced to. He looked no less terrified, but his voice was
surprisingly steady when he spoke.
“If I am truly going to die, then I wish to do at least one thing right for my old friends,” he
said quietly.
Severus produced parchment, ink and quill and kept his wand firmly trained on Pettigrew as
he began to write.
Harry watched quietly, wondering if it was part of the life debt affecting Pettigrew’s decision
to cooperate. If he was trying to play on Harry’s emotions by doing this, Harry had to admit
that it was working a little bit. But he only had to think of what Pettigrew was confessing to,
to firm his resolve.
Pettigrew managed to look relieved, resigned and still terrified when he was finished, gazing
at Harry and Remus sadly. Severus read the parchment quickly after binding him again,
before rolling it carefully and pocketing it.
Pettigrew said nothing else as Severus directed Harry to begin the incantation that would
magically bring the life debt to the fore. Harry’s voice was strong and sure as he put the spell
in place, then gave his instructions to Pettigrew. The rat-like man still had his own mind, but
he was unable to do anything to counter-act the powerful magic of a life debt.
He would be placed in the cell in Azkaban with a supply of Polyjuice and a vial of poison.
Within a week, or less if he succumbed earlier, he would be dead. Dying as Lucius Malfoy,
no one would investigate his death, just as they hadn’t investigated Crouch’s death so many
years before.
Spells and instructions in place, Harry felt sick. Premeditated murder, of anyone besides
Voldemort, was not high on the list of things he thought he was capable of, but that was
exactly what he was doing. As soon as Pettigrew was back in rat form and stunned in
Severus’ pocket, Harry flung open the bedroom door and rushed to the loo where he
promptly retched violently.
Severus followed, acting much as Remus would. He offered a cool cloth to clean up and
potion to help calm his stomach.
“He deserves this, but I still feel horrible,” Harry said weakly, grateful Severus had shut the
door to provide some privacy from the twins. He wasn’t overly pleased with Severus seeing
him this way, either, but at least the man knew why Harry was sick.
“Harry, I would be much more concerned if you took this lightly,” Severus said gently,
brushing Harry’s hair back. “I need you to stay strong, though. We are far from done with this
task.”
Harry nodded, taking a deep breath and pushing to his feet.
Severus produced two vials of potion.
“This will really help counter the effects of the Dementors?” Harry asked, eyeing the potion
dubiously. Severus had told him that morning that he had a potion that would help, but Harry
still wasn’t sure he believed it.
Severus glared at him, but it wasn’t nearly as effective with Remus’ face. “Are you
questioning my ability with potions?” he asked.
“No, just leery of getting slammed by the Dementors again this week,” Harry admitted. “I
don’t get along with them so well.”
“Neither do I,” Severus admitted, much to Harry’s surprise. “With the Dark Lord’s fondness
of them, I created this as a defence. This is the version that actually works,” he said, tapping
the vial in his hand. “I believe that the only reason the Dark Lord hasn’t made full use of the
Dementors, as of yet, is because his Potions Master has not perfected the potion that would
protect his followers from their effects,” he said with an evil smirk.
Harry grinned at that news. “I certainly hope his Potions Master continues to have trouble
perfecting it,” he said, before downing the foul-tasting potion.
“Indeed,” Severus said, smirk still firmly in place, even though it wasn’t an expression Harry
was used to seeing on Remus.
They returned to the main room where Harry stuffed his fully-stocked cloak back into his
rucksack. Again he was amazed at the magic that the twins had put into it. Even with the
pockets full, the cloak didn’t look it and was easily folded down into a small size.
Fred and George were eyeing him worriedly, but didn’t comment on Harry getting sick even
before he’d left. They only asked him to send word when he was back from wherever he was
going.
Harry was amused when Severus assured them that he would send word, even when Harry
forgot. The twins were also amused, although they would’ve been downright shocked if
they’d known it was Severus, rather than Remus, that was making the assurances.
“Harry’s not the best at remembering others worry about him,” George said, grinning at
Harry.
“Then again, it must be difficult for him to remember to reassure everyone else he’s fine
when he’s unconscious, injured, or suffering from utter exhaustion,” Fred added cheekily.
“Oh, shut it,” Harry grumbled good-naturedly.
Harry and Severus left the flat, entering the street where they could Apparate.
“Ready?” Severus asked.
“No,” Harry said, nodding anyway.
They Apparated to the coordinates that Scrimgeour had given Harry earlier. There was a
guard house there, and Scrimgeour and one of the guards came out to greet them. If nothing
else, Scrimgeour would make sure this visit didn’t become public knowledge.
“You are positive you need to do this?” Scrimgeour asked one last time.
“Yes,” Harry said simply.
Scrimgeour nodded reluctantly in acknowledgement, and Harry and Severus were directed to
a boat that would propel them out to the island. Harry endured the guard’s warnings, even as
protection spells were cast around him and Severus. He relied on Severus to understand and
remember all the directions and privileged information the guard was giving them.
Scrimgeour looked torn – grateful that he wasn’t going with them, but sickened by the fact
that he was allowing Harry to go. Nervous as he was, Harry was rather relieved that
Scrimgeour had at least some sense of decency in him. Of course, it wasn’t stopping
Scrimgeour from leaving the task of saving the world to him, Harry thought bitterly. He
closed his eyes tightly for a moment, reminding himself that he was supposed to be grateful
for Scrimgeour’s cooperation.
Once in the boat, Harry pulled Draco’s warm, heavy cloak from his rucksack, already feeling
icy cold, inside and out. Resizing it, he wrapped it tightly around his body as they travelled
across the choppy waters. He felt a little warmer, as much from the reassuring, lingering
smell of Draco as from the cloak itself.
Severus made no comment, just as he’d made no comment when Harry had asked Winky to
retrieve it that morning. They rode the waves in silence, both of them tense and anxious to be
done with this.
Harry felt the chill down to his bones when they disembarked, seeing the many Dementors.
Even with the potion and the protection spells that were meant to keep the Dementors away
from them, Harry still didn’t feel particularly safe. He shuddered violently as he stood staring
at the stone prison.
He was extremely grateful when Severus put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him
close as they began the walk up the stone slabs to the prison.
Inside the prison was no better than the outside, and was actually ten times worse, Harry
decided. Dark and creepy was a huge understatement. The place was dismal and, in his
opinion, inherently evil.
It was a hundred times worse as they entered the corridors where the prisoners were located.
He was glad he had the hood up on the cloak, feeling at least a little protected from all the
eyes watching him. The screams and rambling shouts should’ve been expected, but he was
still shocked to the core.
He wanted to shut his eyes tight, but was terrified of actually closing them. He still kept his
eyes averted from the prison cells as much as possible, allowing Severus to guide him. After
seemingly endless corridors, they finally stopped.
“Draco?” a voice croaked hoarsely.
Harry looked up to see Lucius Malfoy sitting on a stone bench. “No, Lucius. I’m afraid I’m
only wearing Draco’s cloak,” he said quietly, surprised that Lucius seemed to recognize it.
Lucius was confused. “Potter?” His eyes flicked to Severus. “And Lupin?”
“Yes,” Harry answered, focusing on the haunted man in front of him and desperately trying to
ignore the other haunted souls with their screams echoing around him. Severus’ strong
presence at his side was the only thing holding him together.
Severus remained silent. As Lupin, he would say as little as possible, leaving it for Harry to
interact with Lucius. He would only step in if necessary.
Lucius blinked rapidly, attempting to adjust to the situation. “Why are you here, Potter?” he
demanded angrily, seeming to regain himself. “And why are you wearing my son’s cloak?”
“I’m wearing Draco’s cloak because it’s warmer than mine,” Harry said, knowing that wasn’t
what the man wanted to know, and continued quickly. “I’m here because I need your help.”
“You need my help?” Lucius asked. His voice was icy despite the hoarseness and the
incredulousness it portrayed.
Harry looked to Severus, who cast a Silencing Charm around them. He still kept his voice
low, despite the Silencing Charm and the fact that there was no one else around to hear them
as the cells were spaced widely apart. He was grateful, though, that whatever spell Severus
cast, it also blocked out the sounds from around them. Lucius also looked relieved as blessed
silence fell over them.
“Lucius, I really don’t feel like explaining it all here, because I want out of this place as soon
as possible,” Harry said. “I’m taking you out of here with me and then I’ll explain.”
Lucius literally rubbed his eyes in disbelief. “I must be hallucinating,” he muttered to

himself.
“I’m not sure if you consider it good news or bad news, but I’m afraid you’re not
hallucinating,” Harry said wryly. “Harry Potter is here to break you out of Azkaban.”
“Why?” Lucius questioned. “It makes no sense. It’s not even possible!” he exclaimed.
Harry rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’ve been informed this is impossible,” he said sarcastically. “But
I’m doing it anyway.”
“Why?” Lucius repeated. “How?”
“I’ll answer why once we’re away from here,” Harry said, glancing around him and
shuddering again. Severus’ arm tightened around his shoulders. “Can I get your cooperation
for that long at least?” he asked.
Lucius slowly nodded. “Get me out of here and I will listen,” he said.
Harry quickly explained about Pettigrew, the life debt, and how Pettigrew would be taking
his place in the cell. He ignored the gleam of satisfaction in Lucius’ eyes at that news.
“You’ll need to turn into your Animagus form,” Harry explained. “Remus will stun and bind
you, Pettigrew will take your place here, and then you will leave with us.”
Lucius was still clearly bewildered by this turn of events, but he was more than ready to
cooperate. Harry ordered him to turn into his Animagus form and then his eyes widened in
astonishment as Lucius complied.
“Oh, Merlin,” Harry breathed, staring at the white, albeit dirty, ferret now waiting in the cell.
His eyes darted to Severus. “Is he really a ferret?” he asked, his voice rising. Severus had
only said that Lucius’ Animagus form was small, so it would be easy enough to carry in a
small animal, and carry out a small animal.
Severus was smirking in amusement. “I thought you might appreciate that fact, even in here,”
he said.
“No wonder Draco’s always been so pissed off about that,” Harry said, back to staring at the
ferret. “It wasn’t just an insult to him, but to his father as well.”
“Not many recognized the insult as it was intended,” Severus said. “I later learned that
Crouch knew Lucius’ Animagus form but, as Moody was also aware of Lucius’ form, and
not fond of the Malfoys, the incident was not questioned.”
“Well,” Harry said. “I reckon it’s a good thing I’ve already stopped insulting Draco about it.
Though, he’s likely to be pissed off now that I know.”
Severus rolled his eyes. “Harry, you’re freeing his father from prison. I think he’ll forgive
you this knowledge,” he said sarcastically.
Harry blinked. “Yeah, I reckon you’re right,” he said, giving Severus a lopsided grin. The
grin quickly fell away as he took in their surroundings again. Finding out Lucius was a ferret
was amusing and had been a bit of a shock, but they were still stuck inside Azkaban.
Severus made quick work of spelling the cell door open with some spell Harry had never
heard before, stunning Lucius, switching the Animagus’, and reviving Pettigrew. Harry didn’t
understand all the magic Severus used to make it possible for him to take the Animagus’
across the cell’s wards, but he really didn’t care. Pettigrew, bound by the magic of the life
debt, obediently transformed into Lucius. The magic didn’t keep him from pleading with
Harry, though, and Harry’s gut wrenched painfully.
“You will finally pay for the crimes you’ve committed,” Severus said coldly, before hurrying
Harry away.
The screams were loud again, and just as horrifying, when the Silencing Charm was broken.
As he was guided along the corridors, Harry was certain he’d be seeing and hearing this place
in his nightmares.
The Dementors stayed away, but Harry could still feel their cold presence. He mentally
thanked Severus yet again for creating the potion that kept him from collapsing. Even so, he
huddled into a ball when they were back in the boat.
Severus dealt with Scrimgeour and the guard once they’d returned to land, and Harry didn’t
start retching again until after Severus had Apparated them both to some location Harry
didn’t recognize.
“Harry, are you going to be all right?” Severus asked, with so much concern that Harry had to
remind himself that it was actually Severus and not Remus.
“Yeah,” Harry answered weakly. “I just know that I’m going to be having nightmares about
that for a long time.”
“I understand,” Severus said. Harry looked at him, realizing that he probably wasn’t the only
one who would be having nightmares.
Harry pulled himself together, yet again. The hard part was over, as far as he was concerned.
He knew Severus was still worried about Lucius, but Harry found himself pitying the man
he’d hated for so long.
He doubted that Lucius was at all healthy. The tattered robes had done nothing to hide the
sores, and extremely thin, emaciated body. He would not be surprised if he were to learn that
the man was truly sick. He had appeared a little disoriented and definitely haunted, but he’d
seemed sane at least.
Severus pulled the stunned ferret from his pocket, and Harry couldn’t resist sniggering. “It’s a
shame that I can’t tell Ron about this,” he said.
“You will do no such thing,” Severus said, but his tone was mild. They both knew Harry
wouldn’t actually say anything, even as tempting as it was.
Severus revived Lucius and returned him to his human form. They watched as Lucius
reoriented himself, taking in Harry and Severus with their wands trained steadily on him,
then taking in their surroundings.
Harry still didn’t know where they were, only knowing that they were in a clearing in a
forest. The middle of nowhere, as far as he was concerned, but after a few moments, Lucius
seemed to recognize their location.
“We’re near the Manor,” he said in wonder, breathing deeply of the forest air.
Severus nodded in acknowledgement, but Harry wasn’t sure Lucius noticed. The man was
too busy appreciating being outdoors and free, despite his audience. Harry couldn’t help
being reminded of Sirius. Lucius’ uncharacteristic scruffy appearance was reminiscent of
Sirius, considering they looked nothing alike. Lucius’ hair was extremely long, tangled, and
very dirty. Despite the underlying blond colour, it was still similar to Sirius’ tangled mane all
those times Harry had seen him before he settled in at Grimmauld Place.
The awe Lucius was displaying at being outdoors definitely reminded Harry of Sirius, and it
was making Harry’s chest ache. This man before him had been involved in the battle that cost
Sirius his life, yet here he was, alive and free once again.
Severus seemed to sense some of Harry’s thoughts and rested a hand on his shoulder,
squeezing once in reassurance. Harry sent a sidelong glance in his direction, but Severus’
gaze was steadily trained on Lucius, watchful and waiting.
Lucius finally seemed ready to focus on Harry again, but he thoroughly shocked him when he
spoke. “Thank you, Potter,” he said quietly. “Whatever happens from here, I am grateful for
the respect you’ve shown by allowing me to appreciate these moments of freedom.”
It took Harry a moment to shake off his shock. He dug in his rucksack to find the flask of
water and the bits of food they’d packed for the man. He passed them to Lucius, transferring
the shock back to him as well.
Harry smirked at the man’s astonishment. “Not everything is as it seems, Lucius,” he said.
“I’m still not sure that I particularly like you at all, but I have many reasons for showing you
a little bit of courtesy, despite the circumstances.” He gestured to the food and water. “You
look like you could use that. You have little reason to trust me, but it’s not tainted in any
way.”
Lucius eyed him warily, but ended up drinking deeply from the flask of water anyway,
sighing in relief. His voice was much smoother when he spoke again. “Why am I here,
Potter?” he asked. He didn’t ask with words, but his eyes skimmed over Draco’s cloak that
Harry was still wearing.
Harry ran a hand through his hair as he thought about how to answer the question. He
glanced at Severus, but he was remaining silent, simply standing guard. Harry knew that
Severus couldn’t afford for Lucius to learn who he really was.
“Long story short, I need something from your vault in Malfoy Manor,” Harry said, facing
Lucius squarely again. “In return, I will let you see Narcissa and Draco. It will be up to you
what happens after that.”
“What have you done with my wife and son?” Lucius asked, his anger ignited.
“I’ve done nothing but keep them safe,” Harry said, feeling strangely calm. He knew he had
the upper hand. “There’s been a lot that’s happened while you’ve been locked up in Azkaban,
Lucius. I don’t have time to go over all of it with you. In fact, I think it would be better that
you hear it from Draco and Narcissa. You’ll be able to believe them, whereas if you hear it
from me . . . you’ll be too busy trying to determine whether I’m telling you the truth or not.”
Lucius studied him, taking in and weighing Harry’s words. “They are safe . . . with you?” he
asked, disbelief clear in his tone.
“Voldemort knows that they’re gone from Malfoy Manor, but has no idea what happened to
them,” Harry said. “Most of the Wizarding world doesn’t even know that they’re missing.
I’m doing everything I can to protect them.”
“They would never go to you,” Lucius said. “You are holding my family hostage.”
“Things change,” Harry said with a shrug. “They are not my prisoners. Nor are you my
prisoner. At least, you won’t be after you retrieve what I need,” he clarified.
Lucius raised an eyebrow, indicating his scepticism. “You broke me free from Azkaban,
simply to allow me to go back to the Dark Lord,” he stated flatly.
“No,” Harry said coldly. “I broke you free from Azkaban because you’re the only one who
can retrieve what I need. I’ve already told you, after that, what happens will be up to you.”
He hesitated briefly. “My other option was to kill you so that access would transfer to Draco
and he could retrieve it for me. I decided not to take that option.”
“And what are my options?” Lucius asked, eyes narrowed.
“Well,” Harry said thoughtfully. “You could choose to go back to Voldemort. Surely you
would be punished severely for your failure to retrieve the prophecy and for your family’s
disappearance, but if you’re lucky, he’d let you live.”
He looked at Lucius mock innocently. “See, I’ve kind of been thwarting some of his plans
lately, and he’s not overly pleased. Since some of his followers have been captured, I would
think he couldn’t really afford to kill off one who has shown loyalty to him.”
Lucius simply stared in silence, so Harry continued.
“Another option would be to stick with me. You’d be able to spend time with your family,
I’m not much into torturing people, and don’t ask anything from anyone that they’re not
willing to give freely,” he said. “There are always extenuating circumstances, though, and I
do fully intend to force you to get what I need,” he warned.
“You are attempting to blackmail me,” Lucius said coldly. “Holding my family hostage.”
“I’ve already told you they’re not my hostages,” Harry denied. “I assure you, Draco and
Narcissa have chosen, of their free will, to be where they are at now. You asked for options
and I’ve given you your two major alternatives. Either way, you’ll be getting me what I need
first.”
He paused a moment for effect. “I’m sure you are considering a third option of rescuing
Draco and Narcissa from me, before going back to Voldemort. They love you dearly and miss
you, but I don’t think they’re willing to go back, even for you. They recognize that it would
mean death at some point, probably sooner rather than later.”
“What has happened?” Lucius asked, truly bewildered by what Harry was telling him. His
anger kept trying to rise to the surface, but Harry’s calm, honest demeanour was throwing
him off.
Harry wasn’t ready to give Lucius too much information. He certainly wasn’t ready to admit
to the man that he was seeing his son. They were only going in circles, though, and it was
time to lay at least part of it on the line and get moving again.
“Lucius, before we leave here, I’m going to ask you to enter into an Unbreakable Vow with
me,” Harry said. “You will vow to retrieve what I need, and I will vow to release you at that
point, if that’s what you choose. Our obligations to each other will be fulfilled.”
He glanced quickly at Severus before continuing. “If you choose to part ways, your memory
of your escape from Azkaban will be Obliviated for my protection,” Harry said.
He darted another glance at Severus, knowing the man would not approve of what he was
about to say next. “I won’t Obliviate your memory of our trip into Malfoy Manor, though.”
He ignored Severus’ angry hiss. “Hopefully Voldemort will show you some mercy if you
bring him back the information of what I retrieved.”
“Harry,” Severus said, speaking up for the first time. “You will not allow that information to
be sent back to him.”
“I’ve already condemned one man to his death today,” Harry said coldly. “I will not condemn
Draco’s father without offering him at least some kind of protection.”
Without warning, Severus bound Lucius and erected a Silencing Charm. Harry had to wonder
why Severus simply didn’t stun him.
“Potter, that information is far too valuable to be sending it back willingly to the Dark Lord,”
Severus spat furiously.
“How the hell would I ever face Draco again if I don’t do something?” Harry asked angrily.
“You can not afford to let personal emotions get in the way, Potter,” Severus said coldly. “I
thought you finally understood that fact of war.”
Harry glared at him. “Once I have that locket in hand, I take most of the risk away,” he said,
his voice just as cold as Severus’. “No, it’s not an ideal situation if Voldemort finds out what
I’m up to, but there won’t be much he can do at that point. And to be honest, I don’t think it
will even come to that. If I’ve learned nothing else over the last month, I’ve learned that the
Malfoys value family above all else.”
Severus hesitated, and Harry pushed his point. “Lucius needs viable options to choose from,”
he said. “If he sees me willing to take the risk of sending him back to Voldemort, maybe, just
maybe, he’ll be more willing to take the risk of coming with me.”
“The risk is still too great,” Severus said.
Harry’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t have the full knowledge of what the risk actually is,” he
said ruthlessly. “I am the only one who can decide that, for better or worse.”
“Potter, you are going to get us all killed with your foolishness,” Severus ground out. His
dark expression indicated he was two seconds from hexing Harry, but Harry held his ground.
“No,” Harry sneered. “I’m just going with my instincts and trying to bring as many people as
possible through this war – alive. Whether you like it or not, that includes Lucius.”
“And, of course, we must all bow down to Potter’s instincts,” Severus said condescendingly.
Harry’s nostrils flared. “I don’t know where the fuck this is coming from all of a sudden, but
back the fuck off,” he hissed dangerously.
Severus slashed his wand angrily, dropping the Silencing Charm.
“Well, well,” Lucius drawled. “It would appear that you presented me with quite an offer,
when even your companion finds it such a concern.”
Harry glared at Lucius for his comment, but as his words sank in, he glanced sharply at
Severus. He suddenly had the distinct impression that he’d just been played. He was fairly
certain Severus had just helped him convince Lucius that he had viable options, which was
what Harry had wanted. Of course, he didn’t doubt that Severus was angry with him and still
wouldn’t allow Lucius to return to Voldemort knowing about the locket. He turned his glare
back to Lucius, still wound up after arguing with Severus.
“Unbreakable Vow,” Harry ground out, moving to kneel before Lucius. “Now.”
Severus unbound him and Lucius gazed at Harry unblinkingly for long seconds before he
held out his right hand. Harry grasped it firmly in his own right hand without hesitation, their
gazes locked.
Severus had moved with Harry and he touched his wand to their hands.
“Will you, Lucius, go undercover into Malfoy Manor with me, Harry, to retrieve Slytherin’s
locket?”
Lucius’ eyes widened, clearly not having thought about what Harry was wanting to retrieve.
“I will,” he answered, regardless.
Severus had told him what this would entail, but Harry was still surprised by the tendril of
flame that wrapped hotly around their hands.
“And will you do everything possible to return to this location with me undetected after
retrieving the locket?”
“I will,” said Lucius.

“And will you keep secret, in all manner, the details of your escape from Azkaban?”
“I will,” Lucius said again.
Harry’s gaze finally dropped down to their joined hands to see the fiery coil of magic linking
their hands together. Severus muttered an incantation and Harry watched as the magic sank
into their skin, binding them.
He glanced at Severus, who gave him a slight nod of approval. He let go of Lucius’ hand.
“Let’s go before it gets any later,” Harry said grimly, rising to his feet.
“Potter, I am unaware of how much you know, but it will be difficult to remain undetected in
the Manor,” Lucius said. “Even if there are no . . . unexpected guests, there are still the
house-elves. If nothing else, the Dark Lord will be informed that I have returned,” he warned.
“There won’t be any unexpected guests tonight, we’re going in under Draco’s wards as his
guests, the house-elves have been directed to stay in their quarters until morning, and I’ve got
a way to get us about the Manor undetected,” Harry answered flatly. “Voldemort isn’t going
to know shite about your return unless you go back to him.”
Lucius’ eyes widened marginally. “You are full of unexpected surprises, aren’t you, Potter?”
he questioned.
“So I’ve been told,” Harry answered, rolling his eyes. “You’re going to have to go back to
your Animagus form. It’ll be a lot easier for us to get into the Manor that way. You can ride
in Draco’s cloak pocket if you want,” he offered. “I don’t think you have to be stunned this
time since you’re bound by the vow.” He looked to Severus to be sure, and Severus looked
wary, but nodded anyway.
“Potter, why are you wearing my son’s cloak?” Lucius asked. He didn’t sound angry this
time, simply bewildered.
“He doesn’t actually know I have it,” Harry said honestly. He held a hand up as Lucius
started to look angry again. “I didn’t want him knowing where I was going today, so I didn’t
ask if I could borrow it. He knew it was a possibility that I’d try to get you out of Azkaban at
some point, but I didn’t want to raise his hopes before I left.”
He hesitated for a moment, biting at his lip. “Draco’s in enough trouble, Lucius,” he said
solemnly. “The things I’ve done today – it would’ve been far too dangerous for Draco to be a
part of and I didn’t want to risk him being captured, by either side. The prat likely would’ve
tried to insist on getting involved if he’d known beforehand where I was going today.”
Lucius was back to gazing at Harry in bewilderment. “As for me taking Draco’s cloak. Well,
it is warmer than mine, like I said before. And, uh, it’ll sound stupid, but it seemed fitting
since I was going to attempt to free his father,” he admitted sheepishly. He wasn’t about to
admit that it smelled good like Draco and was rather comforting. “I’ve borrowed other
clothes from him, and if I’d thought he would mind, I wouldn’t have borrowed it.”
“Perhaps you should send a message letting them know you are fine,” Severus said,
sarcastically emphasizing the word “fine”.
“Fuck!” Harry cursed softly, remembering the conversation with Fred and George earlier. “I
reckon I should let a couple others know as well,” he admitted.
Severus smirked at him. “I do believe they would also appreciate news,” he said.
Harry darted a glance at Lucius. “What about him?” he asked Severus.
“Send your regular message,” Severus said. “Simply warn Winky not to say anything about
him.”
Harry shrugged, accepting Severus’ judgment, and called for Winky.
“Yes, Master Harry?”
“Hello, Winky,” Harry said. “I need you to deliver a couple of messages for me. One, pop
over and tell the twins that I’ve survived the worst of my dangerous deeds for today,” he said
dryly.
Winky nodded and waited expectantly for the next message.
“Two, could you tell,” he darted a glance at Severus, still disguised as Remus, before
continuing, “Draco and Narcissa that I’m fine, please?” he requested. “I’m sure Draco’s
going nuts trying to figure out what I’m up to today and Narcissa’s probably had three pots of
tea by now.”
Winky smiled and nodded. “They are quite worried about Master Harry today,” she said in
acknowledgement.
“Well, tell them I’m fine, and Remus is fine, as well, but warn them it’ll probably be quite
awhile before I’m home again,” he said.
His focus had been on Draco and Narcissa and he wasn’t really thinking about how it would
all sound to Lucius. When he glanced at the man, Lucius was openly gaping in astonishment.
The look of satisfaction he saw on Remus’ face told Harry that once again he’d played right
into what Severus wanted of him.
“Um, Winky, you can’t make any mention at all of him,” Harry said, gesturing to Lucius.
“Winky will not say a word, Master Harry,” she said, holding her head proudly.
“Thanks, Winky,” Harry said, smiling his appreciation as he dismissed her.
He turned to Lucius and smirked at the gobsmacked man standing before him. He shouldn’t
be surprised that it was so easy to shake up the man who’d just spent over a year in prison
with only the Dementors for company, but Harry was still enjoying this moment, regardless.
“Home?” Lucius questioned.

“Yeah,” Harry answered casually. “I’m living with your wife and son.”
“Harry Potter . . . living with my wife and son,” Lucius mumbled weakly to himself.
Harry wondered if he’d delivered one shock too many when the man actually swayed on his
feet. He quickly crossed the distance between them without hesitation and grabbed Lucius’
arm in an attempt to steady him. Severus hadn’t moved, but he was tensed to take action if
need be.
“I’m sorry,” Harry muttered. “I reckon I shouldn’t be taking advantage when you’re still
weak from prison.”
Lucius simply stared down at him, blinking slowly.
Severus, on the other hand, snorted softly. “You are apologizing to Lucius?” he questioned,
seeming unable to resist making the comment.
Harry shrugged uncomfortably. “Yeah, well, it’s fun and all to tease him with the truth, but I
don’t reckon it’s really fair under the circumstances,” he said defensively.
Severus shook his head in amused resignation, saying nothing further, even though Harry was
sure that he had a lot of things he’d like to say to that if it wouldn’t give away his identity.
“Are you all right?” Harry asked Lucius.
“No,” Lucius said bluntly. “I was proud while I was in Azkaban that I kept my sanity. Now, I
fear that I have lost my sanity while regaining my freedom.”
Harry smiled ruefully. “It’s a terrible lot to take in,” he said sympathetically. “You’ll figure
out everything that’s been going on soon enough, regain your health and then everything will
be back to normal.”
Lucius studied Harry contemplatively for long seconds. “I have the feeling, Potter, that not
much will be normal,” he said quietly.
Harry nodded his head in acknowledgment, hoping that also meant that Lucius himself had
changed. “Are you ready to go to the Manor now?” he asked.
Lucius inhaled deeply before nodding sharply. Harry stepped away, allowing Lucius to
transform. He was startled when the little ferret scampered up his cloak and settled into his
pocket. His head poked over the top of the pocket, and Harry stared incredulously for a
moment, before he started laughing. Lucius appeared to be far more relaxed than Draco
regarding the ferret issue.
He glanced over at Severus, seeing the warm, amused smile. “No, Harry,” Severus said. “You
still can’t tell anyone.”
“I know,” Harry said, smiling widely. “But it’s made today more bearable at least, and surely
I can tell Draco.”
“I said he would forgive you, but you push it at your own risk,” Severus warned.
“Ah, I can take Draco,” Harry said, his smile turning mischievous. “I have new ways to make
him forgive me.”
“Indeed,” Severus said dryly.
Harry snatched up his rucksack and retrieved the Invisibility Cloak that they would be
travelling under. With Lucius riding in Harry’s pocket, it was a simple matter for Harry to
grip Severus’ arm for the Side-Along Apparition.
*****
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Notes

Chapter Thirty-Four
Lucius wasn’t to know it, but Severus was the one who had the authority and the knowledge
to adjust the wards to admit them as Draco’s guests. No one would be the wiser, as no alarms
would be set off by their appearance on the property. Severus had also given the orders to the
house-elves.
Harry had no idea how exactly Severus knew that there would be no unexpected guests at the
Manor, but he trusted Severus’ word. He still had no idea how Severus was managing to keep
Pettigrew’s disappearance secret for so long, either. The man seemed to know, however, that
Voldemort wouldn’t be calling his followers that day or that evening. It was one of the
reasons they had to do what they were doing immediately. Harry wondered if Severus had
directly arranged it somehow, but wasn’t sure how that was possible. Or perhaps his mind
simply shied away from wanting to know what Severus had to do to make it possible.
Whatever the case, Severus Apparated them directly into Malfoy Manor while under the
Invisibility Cloak. He rested a hand on Harry’s shoulder and swiftly guided them along
marble corridors, clearly knowing where they were going.
Harry followed, but his eyes roamed over everything they passed. The place practically
screamed money . . . and it was huge. He was a little fascinated that this was where Draco
had grown up, but thought the place seemed rather cold. He wondered how much of that had
to do with the fact that Narcissa and Draco had stripped so much from the place, as there was
a distinct feeling of emptiness in the air.
Lucius, still in ferret form, stirred against his thigh, and Harry glanced down at him. The
ferret was agitated. Harry was feeling rather jittery himself.
They entered a study and, after closing the door, Severus removed the cloak, swiftly warding
the room as extra protection. Lucius scampered out of Harry’s pocket and back to the floor,
transforming back to his human self.
Harry took in the expensive furnishings and the huge desk central to the room. Lucius also
stood glancing around the room for a minute before he slowly walked over to his desk and sat
down, rubbing his hand along the surface.
The desk and the room had many memories for Lucius, Harry was sure. He remained quiet,
letting Lucius have a few minutes. Lucius checked through all of the drawers and eventually
turned his attention back to Harry. He’d yet to really interact with Severus, believing him to
be Remus.
“Potter, there is nothing here,” he said. “Can I presume that Narcissa has taken my things?”
“Yes,” Harry said, nodding. “Well, I’m pretty sure, anyway. I’ve never actually asked about
your things,” he admitted. “But she and Draco packed away a lot of stuff from here. Amongst
other things, they’ve got a couple of those magical trunks that they packed. I’ve learned that
Draco and Narcissa are really quite resourceful.”
Lucius smiled faintly. “That they are,” he said softly. He lapsed into silence again, and Harry
waited. He wasn’t really feeling patient, as he’d just as soon get out of there, but he was
willing to give Lucius as much time as he could.
There was utter silence in the room and Harry was startled when Lucius started speaking
again, as his head was bowed.
“My wife and son are resourceful,” Lucius emphasized, raising his head to meet Harry’s gaze
directly. “I am unaware of events in the Wizarding world that have occurred over the last
year, but clearly things have taken unexpected turns for my wife and son to be living with
you.” He hesitated a moment. “Have they truly switched sides in this war?” he asked. “You
have not stated as such directly, but that is the definite impression I am receiving from you.”
“Yes,” Harry said solemnly. “They have made their choices freely, for reasons that they will
have to tell you themselves. I refused to make the choice for them, just as I refuse to coerce
you. I offered them protection to the best of my ability, which I now extend to you.”
“You are aware it is not wise to make such drastic decisions with incomplete information,”
Lucius stated.
“I know that,” Harry said, nodding in acknowledgement. “You are aware that I can’t trust
you.”
“You are forcing me to make an immediate decision,” Lucius said.
Harry sighed heavily. “It’s the circumstances forcing an immediate decision, not me,” he said.
“Believe me, I don’t like it either.” He dropped unceremoniously into one of the chairs
opposite the desk, rubbing his temples absently as he tried to come up with any better ideas.
He wondered again if Dumbledore had been right about Lucius. Harry remembered him
saying something about Lucius possibly being grateful to be locked away in Azkaban, safe
from Voldemort’s wrath. He had hoped that it might be true, and that it would help sway
Lucius, but wasn’t counting on it. He had no idea what was really going on in Lucius’ mind,
but family still seemed to be the key factor.
“If you stay here, you’re fucked because Voldemort will find out very quickly that you’re
here,” Harry said. “And I can’t take you to where we’re living without a commitment, as
there’s too much at risk. I honestly don’t know where to take you to give you more time to
decide.”
He glanced up at Severus hopefully, but the man just shook his head. He knew Severus had
intended to simply Obliviate Lucius and let him fend for himself.
Harry sighed. “The best I can probably do is arrange for you to meet Draco and Narcissa
somewhere tonight after we’re done here so you can at least talk to them before you decide,”
he said.
“Potter, would you care to finally explain why I am here discussing this with you?” Lucius
asked evenly.
Harry looked at him blankly, surprised at the change of subject and not understanding what
he meant.
“You are Dumbledore’s prodigy, but surely he would wish to wager these types of
negotiations himself,” Lucius said.
Harry stared at him, stricken by the realization that Lucius was unaware of Dumbledore’s
death. He’d technically known that Lucius hadn’t been aware of events, but he’d somehow
thought at least that news would’ve reached the prisoners in the last two months. They’d
been isolated even more than he’d realized.
Lucius arched a brow. “I gather from your expression that you have, indeed, taken on this
task yourself,” he drawled. “Why is that, Potter?”
Harry risked a glance at Severus, who stood stiffly, his face expressionless. Harry looked
back to Lucius.
“Dumbledore’s dead,” he answered flatly, feeling certain that he’d just failed. He registered
Lucius’ shock numbly. Lucius had been contemplating switching sides, but he’d obviously
believed the Light side still had a real leader.
Harry didn’t overly care about Lucius, but he had hoped that for Draco and Narcissa’s sake
that the man wouldn’t go back to Voldemort. Lucius didn’t even know he had a
granddaughter. Harry wasn’t about to tell the man, either. There was no sense in putting
Victoria at risk.
“When? How?” Lucius asked.
There was not a chance in hell that Harry was going to answer how. “Two months ago,” he
said dully.
“You are the Dark Lord’s only opposition?” Lucius asked, still sounding shocked.
Harry nodded, sighing heavily. He slumped dejectedly in the chair, trying to figure out how
he was going to explain things to Draco and Narcissa.
Lucius hesitated before speaking again. “When did Draco and Narcissa switch their
loyalties?” he questioned.
Harry shrugged. “Well, Draco first came to me a month and a half ago, but they didn’t
actually switch sides until a couple weeks ago,” he said. His brow furrowed. “It feels like a
lot longer than that,” he muttered to himself.
Lucius stared at him, shocked once again. “So, you are saying that my wife and son chose to
side with you,” he said.
Harry slowly sat up straight, starting to understand. Maybe he still had a chance to bring
Draco back his father after all. “Yes,” he admitted quietly. “Lucius, I honestly thought that
you had at least heard about Dumbledore’s death. I wasn’t joking when I said your options
are between me and Voldemort.”
“What is happening in the Wizarding world?” Lucius asked in confusion.
Harry shook his head. “You need to talk to Narcissa and Draco,” he said. “I don’t really think
it’s my place and I don’t even want to try to explain it all to you.”
Bowing his head, he sighed. It was going to be another very long night. “Let’s get this over
with, then we can figure out how you can meet with them,” he said. He figured they’d
probably been at the Manor for twenty or thirty minutes already, and didn’t want to waste
anymore time. Severus hadn’t said anything, so they were surely safe still, but Harry was
more than ready to move on.
“Potter,” Lucius said, commanding Harry’s attention. “Will you win against the Dark Lord?”
he asked, his gaze intent.
Harry looked him straight in the eye. “Yes,” he answered with quiet confidence.
“And considering that I am here, you will clearly go to any lengths to accomplish your goal,”
Lucius stated as fact.

Lucius was silent for a moment as he studied Harry. “I have already had cause to question my
loyalties, and I do not wish to return to the Dark Lord’s service, simply to receive more
punishments,” he admitted. “Azkaban provides plenty of time for reflection,” he added with a
grimace.
His words seemed to confirm Harry’s – Dumbledore’s – suspicions, which reassured Harry.
“I have a great deal of faith in Narcissa. And you, ironically, have been the one to grant me
my freedom, such as you are able,” Lucius said.
He hesitated for a few seconds, and Harry found himself holding his breath.
“I believe, Mr. Potter, I am at your service,” Lucius said formally.
Harry raised an eyebrow, even as he released his breath, wondering at the Malfoys’ tendency
to be so regal about a change in loyalties. He registered Severus’ brief look of astonishment
before it was hidden, but his main focus remained on Lucius. “I appreciate the sentiment, but
you will never be in my service. I will accept you switching sides, though,” he said.
“What do you wish to require as proof of my change in loyalties?” Lucius asked.
“Draco offered to subject himself to Veritaserum, but I didn’t take him up on it,” Harry
admitted. “I should probably go with the truth serum for you, though, since you’ve actively
tried to kill me.”
Lucius finally smirked in amusement. “Probably a wise decision,” he said.
“Remus?” Harry questioned Severus.
Severus shook his head. “We should get what we came for and leave here first. It is not wise
to stay here long, and we’ve already stayed far longer than I had intended,” he said.
“Of course,” Lucius said, rising and striding over to a portrait on the wall.
“The portraits,” Harry breathed.
“They are no danger,” Lucius said. “With the exception of this one, they are all landscapes in
this room. And this one will only answer to me.”
Harry realized that Severus must have known this already, or he would never have permitted
them in here. He watched quietly as Lucius spoke softly to the portrait before pressing his
hands on either side of the frame. There was a flare of white all around the edges before the
painting disappeared.
Harry couldn’t see much from where he was at, but decided it would be rude to get up and try
to peek inside. He was surprised when Lucius pulled out another one of the magical trunks.
He gestured for Harry to come forward as he unlocked the first compartment.
“I believe this is what you desired,” Lucius said, lifting out the locket and handing it to Harry.
Smirking wickedly in satisfaction, Harry accepted the locket. He recognized it immediately –
both from the Pensieve memories and from his memory of it being at Grimmauld Place.
“Yes, it’s the one I’ve been looking for,” he hissed. He’d been staring at the locket and the
engraved S on the front of it, and didn’t realize that he’d spoken Parseltongue until he
registered the startled gazes of Lucius and Severus.
“Sorry,” Harry muttered. “It looks like a snake.”
“Is it what you need?” Severus questioned.
“Yes,” Harry said, not realizing the excitement shining in his features. He swung the locket
irreverently from his fingertips. “This right here has made the entire day worthwhile.”
“Tuck it away,” Severus ordered.
Harry did as he was told, stuffing it deep into his jeans pocket. Lucius looked pained, but
didn’t comment.
He did request to take the trunk and check the Manor for additional items that Narcissa may
have left behind. Severus refused to allow him to take anything from the Manor’s rooms,
saying they would be detected. He grudgingly allowed the trunk, but insisted on checking it
first. Harry wasn’t sure if Lucius was going to agree, but he finally submitted. Severus
checked each compartment, running magical scans of some sort or another. Harry didn’t
claim to understand what he was doing, but he watched in fascination.
All of them were beginning to feel more on edge the longer they stayed and Harry was highly
relieved when Severus Apparated them back to the clearing in the forest, trunk in tow. Only
the trying task of questioning Lucius under Veritaserum remained. Harry sprawled out on the
forest floor, leaning back against the trunk and uncaring of where he was at. It was late and
he was exhausted. Severus conjured chairs for him and Lucius and produced a vial of
Veritaserum to begin the questioning. Harry was more than happy to let him take control of
this.
He listened quietly as Severus subjected Lucius to a wide variety of questions. It took awhile
before it hit him that Severus had likely been subjected to many of the same types of
questions himself long years in the past. By the time Severus was finally satisfied and
administering the antidote, Harry was in no doubt about Lucius’ new loyalties.
Lucius, however, looked terrible. Even worse than he had earlier, if that was possible.
“Lucius, would you like an opportunity to clean up and allow us to heal you before you go to
meet with Narcissa and Draco?” Harry asked. “If you’d rather, we can go to the house
immediately, but . . . ,” he trailed off uncertainly.
“If there is a way, I would prefer them not to see me this way,” Lucius admitted, sounding
extremely weary.
“Harry, where do you intend to take him?” Severus snapped irritably. “At this point, it is
highly unsafe to take him anywhere besides the house.”
Harry shrugged. “I have the Invisibility Cloak and the twins won’t ask me any questions
about some cloaked person making use of their bathroom,” he said. “Draco and Narcissa
have been worried enough about him, and seeing him in this condition will simply confirm
all their fears. Let Lucius go back to his family with as much of his pride and dignity as he
can.”
“Since when did you obtain respect, or even understanding, of Malfoy pride?” Severus asked,
muttering the question rhetorically.
Harry shrugged again, smiling faintly. “I’ve learned a lot of things recently,” he said.
Severus sighed heavily. “Indeed you have,” he said quietly.
*****
It was already one o’clock in the morning as they slipped silently into the twins’ flat. Severus
crept into their bedroom and cast charms on them to keep them asleep.
“Do they have any idea of the danger you bring into their residence?” Severus muttered upon
exiting their bedroom.
Harry smiled ruefully. “Um, I brought Draco here. They adjusted to him pretty quickly. I’d
probably be pushing even their limits if they knew who I had here now, though,” he admitted.
“I am in a Weasley residence,” Lucius said in disgust. “How has this happened?”
“You’ll get over it,” Harry said dryly. “Go shower and get cleaned up.”
Lucius clearly dismissed any misgivings he had about being in a Weasley residence,
immediately taking advantage of the opportunity Harry was offering him.
Harry collapsed tiredly on the couch while he waited. Once he heard the water running, he
looked across to Severus who had sat on the couch opposite, still looking like Remus. “You
know, you’re going to have to tell him who you are before we go back,” he said quietly. “The
fact that Remus is there will be a bit of a giveaway.”
“I am aware of that,” Severus said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I simply do not fully
trust the situation.”
“You are the one who questioned him, and with your own Veritaserum,” Harry pointed out.
“I have been with you the entire time, and I still find it difficult to believe that you have
convinced Lucius to switch sides,” Severus said, the disbelief clear in his voice.
“Being with his family convinced him,” Harry said. “That, and the fact that he knows very
well that Voldemort’s a sadistic bastard. Dumbledore said Lucius was punished severely for
the episode with the diary. I don’t think he wants to repeat that punishment after having lost
the prophecy.”
“Indeed,” Severus said in acknowledgment. He stared at Harry contemplatively. “You are an
extraordinary young man, Harry Potter,” he said.
Harry flushed, uncomfortable with the praise. Severus did not give out praise like that lightly,
especially to him. He appreciated Severus’ words, but wasn’t sure what to say.
“Simply accept the compliment, Harry,” Severus said wryly, seeming to understand Harry’s
difficulty. “It is well earned.”
“Thank you,” Harry said softly. “It means a lot coming from you.”
“You appear to be holding up rather well,” Severus said, his tone lilting it into a question.
Harry rubbed his face tiredly. “I’m doing all right,” he said. “I’ve decided I’ll react properly
to freeing Lucius Malfoy from prison some time next week – or maybe next year – as I don’t
rightly feel like it at the moment.”
Severus chuckled, although it sounded just as tired as Harry felt. “I do believe it is unhealthy
to suppress emotions. However, I also believe I am not the best one to discuss such topics,”
he said.
Harry sniggered quietly. “Probably not,” he agreed. He liked seeing Severus this relaxed and
wondered how much of it was due to the sheer relief that the day was over. Maybe it was his
own way of being grateful he wasn’t locked up in Azkaban.
“Harry, in all seriousness, you seem to have developed a rather unique sense of maturity in
your dealings with people,” Severus said. “I recognize that many things from the past still
anger you, but you are more willing than most to give others a second chance.”
“No, I’m just a selfish, arrogant prat that wants everyone on my side,” Harry said flatly.
Severus lifted a brow, questioning Harry’s statement.
Harry shrugged carelessly. “Okay, so maybe I don’t really believe that,” he admitted. “But if I
don’t get over shite from the past and let it go, I lessen my chances of surviving this bloody
war.”
“And you don’t intend to lose,” Severus stated.
“Exactly,” Harry said. He sighed softly. “This isn’t easy for me. My emotions are constantly
turning in my gut, but if I allow myself to think too deeply on everything that’s happened
today, I’m likely to fall apart. I know that, so, I’m trying not to think about it much.”
Severus studied him speculatively. “I believe you are thinking about things constantly, far
more than you are admitting to,” he said. “You are simply reacting differently than people
would normally expect.”
Harry gave him a lopsided smile. “We all know how I naturally tend to avoid anything
normal,” he said cheekily.
“Indeed,” Severus said, smirking in amusement.
They looked up when Lucius emerged from the bathroom. Harry shook his head in disbelief.
Somehow the man had managed to procure a stylish dressing gown from his trunk. “Why
aren’t you dressed properly?” Harry simply had to ask.
“It was my understanding that you would be able to heal me,” Lucius said stiffly.
“Well, I can help, but you’d probably prefer him,” Harry said, gesturing to Severus.
Lucius grimaced. “I would prefer neither,” he muttered. “But as you have both already seen
me at my worst, I do not see the point of refusing care now.”
Harry glanced at Severus, who sighed heavily before producing a vial of potion to counter the
Polyjuice. Harry and Lucius watched as he turned back to his usual self.
“Severus?” Lucius questioned, disbelieving.
For all that Lucius was doing better after the shower, he swayed in shock. Harry moved
quickly and guided the man to the couch to sit down. Lucius went, unresisting.
Harry felt bad for Lucius. Likely the man hadn’t truly slept decently for over a year and he
was severely malnourished and weak. He also wasn’t used to any sort of physical activity.
Combined with all the shocks, Harry felt he was really holding up quite well. It was still
taking its toll, though.
“Yes, Lucius,” Severus said quietly. “I am a spy. I am one of the Dark Lord’s favourites, but
my true allegiance is to the Light. I am doing everything within my power to help Harry.”
“Potter, do tell me you are who you appear to be,” Lucius said, his eyes shut tightly.
“I’m me,” Harry said. “And, uh, you can actually call me Harry if you want.”
Lucius snorted at that. “It would appear that I have lost my touch while locked away,” he
said, self-deprecatingly.
“I believe your instincts are still in place,” Severus said, disagreeing. “You have dealt mainly
with Harry the entire time, ignoring my presence when at all possible.”
Lucius opened his eyes at that.
“It wasn’t just because he doesn’t like Remus?” Harry voiced his surprise.
“I have nothing specific against the werewolf directly,” Lucius said slowly. “Certainly I have
more negative history with you,” he said, looking at Harry. “Yet, I have dealt with you, the
child, rather than the adult,” he added in realization.
Harry scowled, causing Severus to chuckle in amusement. “I do not believe Harry is overly
fond of being referred to as a child,” he said.
Lucius studied Harry contemplatively for a few moments. “I can respect that after all I have
witnessed today,” he said. He turned to Severus. “Perhaps my dignity has not all been lost.”
“Ah, but then maybe you speak too soon,” Severus said, lightening the mood with his
mischievous smirk. “Because now you are going to disrobe so that we can heal you,” he said,
producing his pouch of potions.
Lucius grimaced, but removed the dressing gown so that Severus could tend to his wounds.
There was nothing major or life-threatening, but the man had several open sores and his feet
were disgusting, in Harry’s opinion. It looked like the cold, stone floor of his prison cell had
seeped into his feet, and Harry was surprised the man had been walking well at all. Then
again, the man had mostly been riding along in their pockets as a ferret.
Severus may have been surprised at Lucius’ willingness to switch sides, but he’d obviously
come prepared with the types of potions he would need. Lucius swallowed several that
Severus passed him. With barely a sigh, Harry took the jar of salve and began rubbing it onto
Lucius’ feet as directed, while Severus took another jar and dabbed the contents on the open
sores.
It was confirmed for Harry again that Severus really was a master. The salves began working
immediately, healing the wounds as if they’d never been. Whatever these salves were,
though, Harry didn’t think they were part of the stock in the hospital wing.
Thirty minutes later, Lucius looked much healthier. He’d born it all without comment, up
until that point. “Severus, you have true talent,” he said sincerely.
Severus simply inclined his head in acknowledgement, packing his supplies back into his
pouch.
Considering any sense of modesty had long since been lost, Lucius quickly dressed in the
sitting room.
Despite his obvious gauntness, which could not be helped immediately with potions or
charms, Lucius regained some of his aristocratic presence once he was dressed. The robes
were elegant. His hair was clean and shiny, reaching halfway down his back. His skin looked
much healthier than it had earlier, despite the extreme paleness. Overall, it was a completely
new man standing tall before them.
“Wow,” Harry said, staring at him.
Lucius smirked in amusement. “I take it I resemble my former self now,” he said.
Harry simply nodded. He wasn’t intimated by the man, even now, but it was certainly easier
to see the old Lucius.
Lucius sobered as he addressed Harry. “I must thank you, Harry, for allowing me to regain
my dignity before meeting my family again,” he said formally.
“Seeing you before would’ve just upset them more,” Harry said, shrugging off the gratitude.
“They’re going to be happy to see you.”
“Perhaps we should finally go meet them,” Severus suggested tiredly. “Lucius, you are much
in need of some Dreamless Sleep, and Harry and I could use some rest as well. Tomorrow
will be soon enough for more explanations.”
“Can I take you there in my pocket?” Harry asked hopefully.
“Why?” Lucius asked, eyebrow arched.
“Because I want to surprise them, and this might be the only time I can get away with teasing
Draco,” Harry admitted. “He’ll be too happy to see his father to get pissed off at me about the
whole ferret issue. Besides, it’ll still be easier for us to travel that way under the cloak.”
Severus and Lucius stared in disbelief at Harry’s audacity, before Lucius started chuckling,
Severus joining in a moment later.
“So much for your sense of preserving my dignity,” Lucius said in amusement. “But I will
allow it as I believe you have more than earned your moment of fun.”
“Thanks,” Harry said, grinning happily. Lucius was obviously far more relaxed about his
ferret form than Draco’s reactions would indicate.
They quickly gathered their things, Severus lifting the charms from the twins while Harry
jotted a quick note letting them know he’d been there and he was fine, then they finally left
for Grimmauld Place.
Severus slipped them into the house under the Invisibility Cloak. He was acting like he was
doing it grudgingly, but Harry noticed the spark of amusement in his eyes. He was looking
forward to surprising the others, too.
They took the cloak off just before stepping into the kitchen, not surprised that they could
hear quiet voices on the other side of the door with the others waiting up for them. Draco,
Narcissa and Remus all sagged with relief when they entered. Harry stepped forward quickly
so they wouldn’t get up.
He kissed Narcissa on the cheek in greeting, gave Remus a quick hug, but stepped back
before greeting Draco like he normally would.
“Merlin, Harry, where the fuck have you been?” Draco asked, frowning at him and definitely
noticing the lack of personal greeting.
“Winky did send back the message that you were all right, but I never quite trust it until I can
actually see you,” Narcissa admitted quietly.
“I’m fine, honestly,” Harry said, a mischievous smile forming on his lips. “I brought you
back a little present.”
Draco snorted. “Most people accept presents on their birthday, not give them,” he said.
Harry blinked in astonishment, momentarily sidetracked. “It’s my birthday already?” he
asked.
“Yes, you prat,” Draco said, irritated. “And now you’re likely going to have to sleep away
half the day and then you’ll be leaving again to the Weasleys.”
“Um, I’m sorry,” Harry said, knowing Draco was disappointed that they wouldn’t have more
time to spend together on his birthday. “But, well, I’ve got something that’ll more than make
up for it.”
“You’ve really brought me back a present?” Draco asked, his interest piqued despite his
irritation and lingering worry.
Harry nodded, carefully reaching into his pocket to pull out the white ferret. Draco’s and
Narcissa’s eyes opened impossibly wide as the ferret scampered out of Harry’s hand and
down his body. Landing on the floor, Lucius swiftly transformed back into himself.
“Father?!”
“Oh, Lucius!”
Narcissa practically flew into her husband’s arms and Draco wasn’t far behind. Harry was
certain that he was witnessing an extremely rare group hug between the three of them. He
watched the tearful reunion wistfully for a few moments before Severus and Remus came up
on either side of him. With their hands on his shoulders, he was guided to the lounge area of
the potions room, giving the Malfoys a bit of privacy.
“Are you two all right?” Remus asked, giving Harry a tight hug.
“We’re fine,” Severus said, rolling his eyes at the fact that he was using Harry’s usual line.
Aware that he was witnessing another rare event – he didn’t know anybody more private than
Severus – Harry watched Remus lift one hand to brush his knuckles across Severus’ cheek. “I
was worried,” Remus said.
Severus’ eyes darted warily to Harry, but he didn’t back away from Remus’ touch. Harry
blinked at him a moment before smiling softly. He shrugged Remus’ other arm off his
shoulders and turned his back on them to go sit on the couch.
It was good that Severus had someone worried about him. Severus hadn’t shown any
weaknesses at the time, but Harry was sure the visit to Azkaban had been extremely difficult
for him to endure. He was a little squicked by the idea that they might be kissing behind him,
but he was still happy for them.
They joined him a minute later, and he was rather amused by the fact that they sat in
armchairs as far away from each other as they possibly could. Harry didn’t envy Remus his
task of wearing down some of Severus’ defences, but he obviously respected them, letting
Severus distance himself again in front of Harry.
Severus began quietly filling Remus in on the events of the day. Harry was sitting there half-
listening and thinking about families when Draco stormed in, straddled Harry’s lap, grabbed
his face with both hands and proceeded to snog him senseless.
After long minutes, Draco eventually let up for air, leaving Harry dazed and breathless.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“That was . . . I’m glad you’re back safe, happy birthday, and thank you for freeing my father
and bringing him here,” Draco said, shifting to sit beside Harry instead of on his lap.
“Severus did more than I did,” Harry spoke automatically, his mind still reeling from the
spectacular kiss. His cheeks flushed hotly as he noticed Lucius and Narcissa standing in the
doorway.
“Well, Harry, you did mention that there was much still to be explained, but you particularly
failed to mention this extra motivation,” Lucius drawled sardonically.
“Um, well, I, uh,” Harry stammered, not getting out anything coherent and whipping his head
around to stare at Draco helplessly.
“So eloquent, Harry,” Severus said dryly.
Harry’s shoulders slumped and he tried to move away from Draco. Draco swiftly yanked him
back, not letting him go anywhere. “Don’t think you’re going out of my sight again so soon,”
Draco said fiercely.
“I was just trying to give you a little privacy,” Harry said defensively.
“You’ve disappeared all day, and now I find out you’ve been to Azkaban,” Draco said. “I
want to know that you’re all right.”
“Shouldn’t you be checking up with your father?” Harry asked in bewilderment. “He’s been
there for over a year.”
“Well, yes, I know that, you twit,” Draco said. “But Mother needed a few minutes alone with
him.”
“So you decided to come snog me?” Harry said, his voice rising in disbelief. “I didn’t think
you’d even want your father to know about us.”
Draco finally looked a touch nervous, but it was quickly replaced by resolved determination.
“I make my own decisions,” he said firmly.
“Draco,” Harry hissed. “Have you lost your bloody mind? You don’t want to start a fight with
your father first thing. Somehow, I can’t quite see him approving of you being with me. I’m
not a pureblood and I’m a bloody boy! And I’m Harry Potter!” he added hotly.
“Father will just have to get over it,” Draco snapped. “Surely he would’ve figured it out soon
enough anyway, since we’re sharing the same fucking room.”
“I could’ve moved back to my old room,” Harry said doubtfully.
“You dolt,” Draco chided. “Your old room is Severus’ room now. Remember?”
Harry grimaced. “Yeah, well, I don’t want to share a room with him,” he admitted.
Narcissa began laughing. “I do believe you are both completely exhausted and overwhelmed.
Your arguing is more nonsensical than usual,” she said.
Harry cringed, realizing they hadn’t put up any kind of Silencing Charm. Closing his eyes, he
dropped his head to the back of the couch in defeat. “I’m going to sleep,” he announced. “No
one wake me until this whole nightmare is over, please.”
He hadn’t meant the words literally, but as Draco shifted so that Harry’s head rested on his
shoulder, that’s exactly what Harry did. He promptly fell asleep, his mind shutting down and
refusing to deal with anymore for the day. He was only vaguely aware of Remus carrying him
upstairs and he was barely cooperative when Draco stripped him and put him to bed. He
sighed contently, though, as Draco’s warm body pressed against him from behind and held
him close, falling into deeper sleep.
*****
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Notes

Beta: Many thanks to Bookgirl and Gestaltrose!
Chapter Thirty-Five
After stumbling to the loo upon awakening, Harry fell back into the empty bed. He only
vaguely remembered getting there the night before, and had absolutely no clue where Draco
was at now. He was certain Draco had been there during the night, though. He just had no
idea what had been said amongst everyone after he’d fallen asleep, or what they might be
saying now in the light of day.
Groaning, Harry pulled the pillow over his head, wondering if it would be a good idea to
simply hide in bed all day. He was sure he could easily convince his body to go back to sleep.
It was close to noon already, but more sleep was always a good thing.
He really didn’t feel like attempting to sort out his own emotions, let alone everyone else’s.
He almost hoped that the events of the day before were all just some strange dream. Portions
of the day definitely landed in the nightmare category.
He simply laid there with his head still buried under the pillow as he allowed his mind to
wander. He joked about his life being bizarre, but with everything he was doing lately, it was
like he was actively working to make it even stranger. How many people actually planned
breakouts from Azkaban? Not many that Harry knew of. Although, then he had to admit to
himself that he did know a couple – one of whom had been a family member.
He groaned again, willing to finally concede that his life truly was bizarre. There was simply
no getting around it and no way to even attempt to pretend otherwise.
Hearing the door open quietly, he tensed, but didn’t move to see who it was. He really didn’t
have any idea of what to expect today and still wasn’t sure if he wanted to face anyone. He
relaxed slightly as Draco straddled his hips and leaned over his back, nudging the pillow
aside.
“Happy birthday,” Draco whispered in his ear.
Harry pulled the pillow back, mumbling to himself that he’d forgotten, yet again, that it was
birthday.
Draco chuckled, and the sound helped soothe Harry’s rumpled nerves. If Draco was laughing,
surely not everything was bad. Harry moaned deeply as Draco sat up and began massaging
his shoulders.
As Draco kneaded tense muscles until they loosened, Harry became more and more relaxed.
The more relaxed he became, the more he became aware of Draco. His hands were strong
and firm, smoothing across Harry’s back. He was settled on Harry’s arse, and Harry wiggled
his hips experimentally.
Draco inhaled sharply, and Harry grinned to himself, feeling his cock harden. The massage
was wonderful, but he was ready for more. He only wondered briefly if he was actually ready
for the more implied by Draco sitting on his arse. His breath quickened as he felt the hardness
pressing against him, and shifted again restlessly.
The pillow was abruptly tossed aside, and Draco licked a trail along Harry’s shoulder, up his
neck to his ear. Harry shivered at the sensation. “What do you want, Harry?” Draco
whispered, before nibbling gently at the tender spot behind his ear.
“Mmmmm, I want you,” Harry answered softly.
“And how do you want me?” Draco asked, his mouth moving against the nape of Harry’s
neck.
Harry’s hands clenched in the sheets as Draco blew softly against the moist trail he’d left. “I
want you inside me,” he admitted. “I want to feel you like that.”
Draco groaned, his teeth nipping sharply at Harry’s shoulder. Harry’s breath caught for a
moment before it resumed, faster than before. He was focused on Draco’s weight across his
back and Draco’s lips leaving a fiery trail wherever they touched his skin.
“Are you sure?” Draco asked.
“Mmmmhmmm,” Harry answered.
Draco’s soft chuckle waved hotly over Harry’s ear, causing him to shiver again. “I’d feel a
little better if I heard a direct ‘yes’,” Draco admitted. “Much as I like that sound coming from
you.”
Harry twisted his head, trying to actually look at Draco. Draco shifted and allowed Harry to
turn a little, but not too far. “Yes, I’m positive this is what I want,” Harry said, looking
directly into Draco’s eyes, glazed silver with want. Those eyes fluttered shut at Harry’s
words, but flashed open again when Harry continued.
“I want to feel you inside me. I want you to claim me as yours,” he said, biting at his lip a
little nervously. He wondered if he’d gone too far with his words as Draco simply stared for a
long moment.
Draco suddenly leaned down further to catch Harry’s lips, kissing him deeply. With the
awkward position they were still in, it didn’t last long and Draco pulled back. “Harry, do you
have any idea at all what you do to me?” he groaned.
“Please, Draco, I want you,” Harry said.
“You’re mine,” Draco said fiercely, before kissing him again. “Don’t move,” he warned,
moving away from Harry.
Harry continued to lie on his stomach on the bed, but pulled the pillow under his head,
watching with breathless anticipation as Draco hurriedly stripped his clothing. Climbing back
onto the bed, Draco made quick work of removing the pyjama pants he’d helped Harry into
the night before. Then he straddled Harry’s hips without the extra layers of clothing, both of
them groaning at the contact.
Draco pressed a kiss to the nape of Harry’s neck before his hands again began smoothing
over Harry’s back. Harry had never had the remotest idea before that a massage could be so
incredibly erotic. His body was thrumming with sexual tension now, far more pleasant than
the tension from earlier. He couldn’t keep himself from shifting his hips restlessly.
“Harry, stop that,” Draco moaned. He pressed his cock more firmly into the cleft of Harry’s
arse, rocking his hips slightly.
“Draco, you’re teasing the bloody hell out of me,” Harry complained breathlessly. “Get on
with it and fuck me already.”
“You, dear Harry, are quite impatient,” Draco drawled in amusement.
“Merlin, I bloody hate you,” Harry grumbled.
Draco simply chuckled, though it sounded far lower and more seductive than normal. He
leaned down again and nibbled at Harry’s ear, none to gently this time. “Relax, Harry,” he
purred. “I just want you relaxed so you’ll enjoy this.”
Harry shivered as Draco’s tongue dipped into his ear, before Draco began placing a trail of
open-mouthed kisses down his spine. Draco nudged Harry’s thighs apart, settling between
them even as he continued his trail of kisses. Harry was urged up onto his hands and knees,
but Harry dropped his upper body straight back down to the pillow, holding onto it tightly.
Much as he’d complained about Draco getting on with it, the complaints were simply a bit of
lingering nervousness. He knew that Draco was aware of it, too. He concentrated on the
feeling of Draco’s hands smoothing over his arse, waiting with anticipation and the touch of
nervousness. He was shocked when Draco resumed his trail of kisses which had been
interrupted with the slight change of positions.
“Draco, what – oh, bloody hell,” he moaned. Harry very quickly decided that he didn’t really
give a damn about the shock he was feeling. Draco’s mouth on his hole felt incredible. “Your
mouth. Brilliant,” he said, trying to relay the message to Draco.
Draco chuckled, his mouth still pressed against Harry’s entrance and his tongue licking
around the edges of the tight ring of muscle. The vibration sent shock waves of feeling
coursing through Harry. Draco’s tongue probed inside and Harry lost any sense of coherency
he had left in his speech.
Harry rode the waves of sensation, only distantly aware that the moaning and whimpering
was coming from him. When Draco’s hand reached under to find and stroke his cock, he
cried out at the touch.
Raising his upper body slightly, he tilted his head downwards until he could stare down the
length of his body. His gaze caught on the sight of Draco stroking him, but then he caught
sight of Draco’s other hand stroking himself. Harry’s vision swam even as he wanted to
focus. It was all too much and he came hard, thick streams spurting from his cock onto the
sheets.
Harry buried his face in the pillow again, riding out his orgasm. Draco pulled back, and Harry
groaned in disappointment at the loss of sensation.
“Harry,” Draco said, his voice sounding strangled. Harry twisted enough and turned his head
in time to see Draco aiming his cock at Harry’s arse. His breath caught as he watched the
creamy fluid jet forth, landing hotly on his skin.
“Sweet fucking hell,” Harry muttered, watching in fascination as much as he could see from
his position. Draco sure seemed fascinated with the sight, not lifting his gaze to meet Harry’s
eyes at all for long seconds.
Draco eventually looked at him. “Well,” he drawled, his voice still a little unsteady. “That’s
definitely something to do again.”
Harry about choked on his laughter and it took him a minute to respond. “You were supposed
to fuck me, but I have to admit that was amazingly brilliant,” he said.
“Oh, I’m still fucking you,” Draco said. “We’re barely seventeen, and if you were seeing
what I’m seeing, you wouldn’t be worrying about being able to get it up again in the very
near future. I’m going to finish preparing you thoroughly for your first time, then I’m going
to fuck your sweet arse,” he stated matter-of-factly.
As Harry’s cock twitched simply from hearing Draco’s words, he had the feeling that it
wasn’t exactly going to be a problem for him, either. Tired of craning his neck around to see
Draco, he rested his head sideways on the pillow, eyes closed and arse still in the air on
display.
He reckoned he should’ve been feeling a little ridiculous in this position, and certainly he felt
terribly exposed, but he was also so incredibly relaxed that it didn’t matter one bit. He felt
very comfortable with Draco, and really didn’t want to ruin this by over-thinking it.
He felt the bed shift under him as Draco ordered him to stay put as he retrieved the jar of
lubricant. Draco kissed him gently on the temple. “You sure you still want this?” he asked
softly.
Harry opened his eyes halfway and smiled lazily at Draco. “I don’t think it’s possible for me
to get more relaxed,” he said. “Seems like the perfect time to me.”
“Do you know how incredibly hot you are like this?” Draco asked, moving back behind
Harry again.
Harry didn’t bother answering, but he flushed with pleasure at hearing the almost reverent
tone of Draco’s voice as he said those words.
Despite being so relaxed, Harry still tensed a little when he felt Draco’s finger probing at his
entrance. He inhaled sharply as it slid easily inside, Draco already having loosened him
earlier with his mouth. Draco slowly pushed it in and out, testing and gentle, and soon
enough Harry was pushing back against it.
Harry had no idea why he’d been nervous at all. He was already hard again and was aching
for more. Draco gave him more at his demand, inserting a second finger.
“Oh, Merlin,” he breathed, pushing back against Draco’s hand.
“Good, Harry?” Draco asked, his free hand planted firmly in the small of Harry’s back.
Harry nodded fervently into the pillow. “Yes,” he hissed, even as Draco’s fingers started
scissoring inside him, stretching him further. “Fuck yes,” he said, despite the slight burn.
His eyes suddenly threatened to roll to the back of his head as Draco touched something
inside him that set off those sparking waves of sensation again.
“Draco, do that again,” he panted.
“This?” Draco asked. He did it again – repeatedly – causing such a reaction in Harry’s body
that there was no hope of him answering.
Harry was aware of Draco adding the third finger and simply pushed back, accepting it
greedily. He was hypersensitive and more than ready for Draco.
“Please, Draco,” Harry moaned. “You . . . now . . . inside.”
Draco had obviously been waiting for those words, or at least some combination thereof, and
within seconds his cock had replaced his fingers and he was pressing inside.
“Oh gods,” Harry said, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. There was an underlying burning, but
it was nothing compared to the thrill of Draco slowly filling him.
“All right?” Draco asked, his voice strained.
“Feels ‘mazing,” Harry answered.
Draco groaned loudly as he seated himself fully in Harry’s arse. He leaned over, dropping his
forehead to the middle of Harry’s back. “You are so fucking tight, Harry,” he said.
Harry simply breathed, adjusting to this totally new sensation. He didn’t know what he’d
been imagining exactly, but it had been nothing like this. He’d told Draco to claim him but, in
a way, he felt like he was claiming Draco. Draco was inside of him – a part of him – in a very
physical sense.
He pushed back, letting Draco know that he was ready for more. And Draco gave him more.
They found a rhythm fairly quickly that suited them.
The newness of the situation, the fact that they were doing this at all, and with each other,
was enough of a rush – all of that combined with the physical sensations. Harry felt each
thrust, some of them sparking that spot inside of him, and was feeling himself slide over into
sensory overload.
He’d been completely unaware that Draco’s hands were gripping his hips hard enough to
bruise until one hand let go to slide around Harry’s side and under to grip his cock. Draco’s
rhythm faltered for a moment, but he soon picked it up again, thrusting in and out of Harry
even as he stroked him at the same pace.
Just as he had earlier, Harry came hard, coating the sheets under him that had never even
been cleaned from the first time.
“Oh, fucking hell, Harry,” Draco breathed, his hips jerking erratically as Harry’s arse
squeezing his cock pulled his release from him, shooting it deep inside.
Harry was breathing hard and didn’t even try to speak. He was left physically shaking from
the rush.
Draco slowly pulled out and laid down, pulling Harry down to lie in front of him, back to
chest. “All right, Harry?” he asked, kissing the side of his neck. “You’re shaking.”
“It was just intense,” Harry admitted softly. “You?” he asked.
“Incredible,” Draco answered.
They laid there quiet and relaxed for several long minutes until Draco finally roused them
again to take a shower.
“I don’t want to get up,” Harry pouted. “I like it right where I’m at.”
“I take it you approve of the start to your birthday,” Draco said in amusement, rising from the
bed and tugging Harry along with him.
“Definitely,” Harry said, nodding his head for emphasis. “I don’t feel like facing the rest of
the world today. And that includes facing any one else in this house.”
Draco turned the water on in the shower before looking back at Harry. “Everything’s fine,
Harry,” he said, running his hands up and down Harry’s arms reassuringly. “You seem to
have impressed my father. And Severus as well.”
Harry’s face twisted as he attempted to figure out if he should be happy or not that he’d
impressed Lucius. Draco dragged him into the shower as he tried to decide.
“Draco, how did your father react to . . . well, to finding out he’s a grandfather?” Harry
asked. He wasn’t sure he was ready to ask how Lucius felt about him and Draco being
together.
“I’m not entirely sure,” Draco admitted, reaching for the soap.
“You’re not sure,” Harry said flatly.
“Well, if you mean his immediate reaction, he was shocked when I brought Victoria in to
meet him this morning,” Draco said. “He . . . well, you’d have appreciated seeing my father
looking gobsmacked.”
He gave Harry a look that dared him to say anything. Harry kept his mouth shut. He’d seen
that expression on Lucius’ face more than once the day before. He didn’t appreciate it as
much as he would have expected.
“I’ve never seen my father at a loss for words before,” Draco said, sounding defensive. “He’s
probably disappointed in me for getting a girl pregnant in the first place, but he’s pleased
because Victoria is a Malfoy child. I don’t think he’s quite sure how to react to her at the
moment, though. There’s just so much that’s happened.”
Harry snorted, but didn’t say anything. As they washed, Draco continued to ramble.
Harry learned that, despite the late night, the others had arisen early to fill Lucius in on the
events of the last year. He was just thankful they’d left him out of it and let him sleep. What
was important to him was that overall Lucius seemed to be reacting positively to the current
situation. Lucius was not happy with how Voldemort had treated his family and Harry came
out looking quite good under the circumstances.
He still wasn’t sure how Lucius felt about him being with Draco, though. Draco only said
that his father being there didn’t change anything between them and otherwise evaded the
topic. Harry let it go for the time being. It was obvious that Draco was elated to have his
father back and Harry was loath to ruin things by pushing the issue.
It wasn’t until they were out of the shower and Harry went to get dressed that Draco decided
to inform him that he wasn’t expected at the Weasleys until dinner at six o’clock.
“So, you really don’t have to worry about what to wear at the moment,” Draco tossed out
casually.
Harry gave Draco a sidelong glance as he grabbed the t-shirt he’d been planning to wear
anyway – to go with the trousers he’d planned on wearing anyway.
“Uh, I never set a time and it’s not exactly formal at the Weasley’s house,” Harry pointed out.
Draco’s voice came from the large closet as he selected his own clothes. “I arranged the time
for you to go to the Weasleys tonight with the matching pair. Granger’s still worried about
your wardrobe choices for the wedding, but Weaselette is getting her off your back about it.
You don’t have to go shopping with her today.”
Harry pulled his shirt on, nonplussed. Draco was making his plans for him? With the
Weasleys? He had to admit, he hadn’t gotten around to making any himself.
Dismissing those thoughts, Harry, for once, actually thought about his clothing. Most of his
wardrobe still consisted of Dudley’s handoffs or school robes. Clothes shopping had never
been much of a priority and even his dress robes fourth year had been picked out by Mrs.
Weasley, not him.
“Uh, don’t I need to go shopping?” he asked. “Not that I want to go or anything, but you
don’t approve of my wardrobe choices, either. I’ve never been to a wedding before, but I
really doubt I have anything appropriate.” Maybe he could simply snag something of Draco’s
to wear. He certainly had enough clothing.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got it all worked out,” Draco said, his voice muffled.
As Harry snagged a pair of socks and his trainers, he wondered if he should be concerned
about what Draco meant by that.
“Are you almost ready?” Draco asked, reappearing momentarily, fully dressed, before
disappearing into the bathroom again.
“Yeah,” Harry answered. From where he was sitting, he could see into the bathroom where
Draco was fixing his hair.
“That’ll have to do,” Draco muttered to himself, tossing the brush back onto the counter.
Draco looked perfectly put together in Harry’s opinion, and he couldn’t figure out why Draco
didn’t seem satisfied. He didn’t ask, though.
“Hurry up, Harry,” Draco urged. “We’re running late.”
Harry blinked. “Late for what?” he asked.
“For lunch, of course,” Draco said. “We were supposed to be downstairs ten minutes ago.”
“Of course,” Harry mumbled under his breath as he met Draco at the door. They hurried
downstairs, Draco practically pulling Harry along in his rush. Draco paused outside the
kitchen door and Harry almost ran into him. He watched bemusedly as Draco brushed at his
robes quickly, checking himself over and straightening his spine before he pushed the door
open calmly.
Harry followed him into the room warily. Remus and Narcissa greeted him warmly, wishing
him a happy birthday. Severus and Lucius both nodded respectfully.
“Thanks,” Harry said, smiling slightly.
Lucius, Narcissa and Severus were sitting on one side of the table, and Remus on the other.
There were two chairs free on Remus’ side of the table, with Victoria’s feeding chair in the
middle. Harry sat down next to Remus as Draco retrieved Victoria from his mother.
“Late, as usual,” Severus said dryly.
“Yes, well, I wasn’t informed I was supposed to be down here at a certain time, until we were
walking out the door,” Harry retorted.
“Thanks, Harry,” Draco said sarcastically, darting a glare at him as he deposited Victoria into
her chair.
Harry opened his mouth to say something snide back, but then he shut it again. It had actually
been well worth being late, and he would’ve been late even if he’d known he was supposed
to be down at a certain time. Draco’s sudden smirk was smug.
“No, we do not want to hear why you were late,” Severus said before Draco could say
anything. Draco didn’t lose the smirk, but he kept his mouth shut as he sat down.
The food was already on the table, under appropriate warming and cooling charms, and
everyone started dishing up their plates now that they were all there. Harry passed Victoria
some bites of fruit to get started, not feeling at all comfortable with the situation.
“Na,” Victoria said, her fingers mashing the bite of banana as she picked it up.
“Yeah, I gave you some banana,” Harry said wryly.
“How are you feeling today, Harry?” Remus asked quietly.
Harry shrugged, turning away from Victoria and focusing back on his own plate. “I’m fine. I
reckon I’ve got today off, so it’s kind of nice,” he said. He looked over at Severus. “Then
again, the last time I thought I had a day off, it didn’t exactly work out that way,” he said
dryly.
“You have today,” Severus said evenly. “After today, I do not know what the Dark Lord’s
plans are, and you will need to be especially alert.”
Harry darted a glance at Lucius, before turning back to Severus. “Consequences will have to
be paid soon,” he said.
Severus nodded once in acknowledgement.

Harry bit at his lip. “Why do I have today?” he risked asking the question. “And why did we
have yesterday?”
“I arranged for these two days,” Severus admitted, rather grudgingly. Harry had to wonder
why the man had to be so difficult and why he couldn’t have just told him that the day before.
He quietly explained that Voldemort believed he was working on perfecting the potion that
lessened the Dementor’s effects. As he already had one available that diminished the effects a
little, he would be able to show Voldemort that he’d made progress, without actually giving
him a fully working potion.
Harry was surprised, but then realized he shouldn’t have been, to learn that there was a
potions lab in Malfoy Manor. As it was a long, complicated brewing and experimenting
process, Voldemort had ordered his followers away for two days so that Severus could
concentrate on his work.
“Where’d all the Death Eaters go?” Harry asked.
“To their own homes, I would presume,” Severus said sardonically.
“I thought a lot of them were actually living at the Manor,” Harry said. “And what about
Pettigrew. You can’t tell me he had a home.”
Severus eyed him speculatively before deciding to answer. “They do have other places to go.
Pettigrew happened to be staying at my home,” he said curtly.
Harry blinked at him. Severus actually had a home? Severus’ tone indicated that he wasn’t
going to say anything more about it, so Harry asked a different question. “You haven’t been
at the Manor. What if Voldemort decides to go check up on you?”
Severus arched a brow. “Do I appear to be a recalcitrant child that needs to be monitored?” he
asked.
Harry ignored the implications towards himself. “He really trusts you that much?” he asked.
“Yes,” Severus answered. He hesitated a moment before continuing. “Harry, I am his most
trusted follower. There are very strict orders not to disturb me, which includes disturbances
from the Dark Lord himself. He sent a few followers out on a minor raid last evening, but he
is holding off on any major attack until I am available again.” He hesitated again. “It is a
position that I have earned.”
Harry went back to his plate of food, not wanting to think about the things Severus had done
to earn his position with Voldemort. He ate automatically as he let his thoughts drift. He
wondered what was going to happen when Voldemort found out Pettigrew was gone. Severus
seemed to believe that Voldemort wouldn’t suspect him being involved in any way, but surely
Voldemort would want to take out the disappearance on someone and Pettigrew had been
staying at Snape’s house when he went missing.
Narcissa and Draco had disappeared and now Pettigrew. Several of his other followers were
being captured. Then there was the fact that Harry had taunted him about the power issue and
the prophecy. Voldemort could not be in a good mood. The question Harry had, how was
Voldemort going to strike back?
Remus nudged his shoulder, and Harry blinked back into awareness slowly. “Hmmm?”
“Severus asked you about what your plans are,” Remus said mildly.
“You know, the daily ritual that we start with – attempting to figure out what Harry’s up to
now,” Draco added dryly.
Harry didn’t rise to Draco’s sarcastic teasing. “I’m waiting,” he said seriously. He took a
drink of his pumpkin juice as he gathered his thoughts. He glanced at Lucius over his goblet.
The man hadn’t really said much of anything. Narcissa had also been unusually quiet. Harry
focused on Severus who was patiently waiting for Harry to finish answering.
“I’ve pissed Voldemort off this week,” Harry said thoughtfully, absently toying with his food.
“I’m waiting to see how he reacts to what I told him the other day and I’m waiting to see if
he reacts the same way to Pettigrew’s disappearance as he did to Draco and Narcissa’s.”
Harry glanced back up at Severus, who nodded solemnly.
Harry closed his eyes for a moment. Severus’ nod could only mean that it would be bad.
“What do you mean?” Draco asked sharply. Harry opened his eyes to see Draco looking back
and forth between him and Severus. Draco didn’t know that Severus had taken the
punishment for his disappearance, but he obviously suspected something.
Harry glanced at Severus again before shrugging at Draco’s question. “Voldemort’s wreaking
havoc even when he’s in a good mood,” Harry said flatly. “He’s likely to be even worse now
that I’m actively pissing him off.”
“What about the locket?” Severus asked, diverting attention.
Severus had agreed to lock it up for him for the time being, along with the Hufflepuff cup.
“Again, I’m waiting,” Harry said. “I’ll talk to Hermione tonight to see what progress she’s
made on the research,” he said. “We’ll be ready to deal with them soon, though.”
“What can we do?” Remus asked.
Harry took a couple more bites of his food as he thought about it. “I don’t think there’s
anything at the moment,” he said with a shrug. “If I ever get more than two minutes free at a
time, I could use some more help with training, though.”
“What about the hospital wing at Hogwarts? Should we be brewing more potions?” Narcissa
asked, speaking up quietly.
Harry exchanged a glance with Severus. “It would probably be wise,” Severus answered.
“Things are likely going to get worse.”
“I wish I could figure this out faster so I could just end it all,” Harry muttered, stabbing at his
food.
“How much faster could you work?” Draco exclaimed in exasperation. “At the rate you’ve
been going, you’re going to kill yourself off before the Dark Lord has a chance to.”
“No!” Narcissa said sharply. “You are not going to get into this argument again today. It is
Harry’s birthday and we will do our best to help him celebrate it,” she said firmly. “It’s been
established that there is little urgency today, so let’s drop all of the war talk. Now finish your
meals,” she ordered.
“Fine. I didn’t want to argue with the prat anyway,” Harry muttered, dropping his gaze back
to his plate.
“Harry,” Remus said his name warningly.
Harry sighed heavily, not saying another word. He slipped back into his thoughts, tuning out
the others. Everyone wanted him to slow down a little, but he didn’t really have time for that.
He’d told the truth that he was mainly just waiting at the moment, but he wasn’t overly fond
of waiting – especially when lives were at stake.
He could feel the pressure bearing down on him. Voldemort was still conducting small raids
regularly and people were dying. Harry had only been lucky to receive warning on two of the
larger attacks. People were dying and more lives would be lost until Harry could kill
Voldemort.
“Harry, if you’d like to come back to the rest of us, there is a cake for you,” Draco said,
reaching behind Victoria to whack him on the back of the head.
“Does he do this often?” Lucius asked.
“Yes,” Draco answered with fond exasperation. “He disappears into his head quite regularly.”
Harry sneered at him, but was sidetracked by the beautifully decorated cake Winky was
levitating to the place in front of him. He looked at it in surprise for a few moments before
glancing around at the others. He hadn’t been expecting anything.
“You’re easy to surprise, aren’t you, Harry?” Draco said quietly.
“My birthdays usually pass without much recognition,” Harry admitted. “Well, except for
when I turned eleven and Hagrid took me to Diagon Alley after informing me I was a
wizard,” he added without thinking.
That caused a reaction at the table from everyone but Remus and Victoria. Harry grew wide-
eyed at the outraged reactions from the Malfoys and even Severus. Severus was grumbling
about manipulative old men. Lucius was muttering about worthless Muggles. Narcissa was
saying she was going to go back and give that woman something to think about. Draco was
ranting about all of it.
Draco and Narcissa had known things hadn’t been great for Harry at the Dursleys, but they
obviously hadn’t realized he didn’t know he was a wizard until just before starting school.
Harry reflected that he should’ve known the Malfoys, particularly with their emphasis on
pureblood status, would be more shocked than most about a wizard not even knowing about
magic.
“Just cut your cake,” Remus suggested quietly. “I think Victoria would like some, and I know
I would. It’s chocolate,” he said with a smile.
Harry cast a glance at Severus and the Malfoys and decided to ignore their mutterings about
deranged Headmasters and idiotic Muggles. He grinned at Remus and began serving up slices
of the cake. He even offered Victoria her own small slice to dig into. He moaned with
pleasure as he took a bite.
“Winky? Did you make this?” he asked, turning and spotting her hovering off to the side.
“Yes, Master Harry,” she said proudly.
“It’s delicious,” Harry said appreciatively with a huge smile. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Master Harry,” Winky said happily. “Anything for you.”
Harry went back to his cake, letting another bite melt on his tongue as he savoured it. It took
him a moment to realize the others were now staring at him. “Can’t I just enjoy my cake?” he
asked petulantly.
Draco and Narcissa looked torn, but Severus had no qualms about asking Harry to explain
anyway. “You can explain while you eat,” he commanded.
“I thought you knew already,” Harry muttered.
“It would appear that I was not informed of many things,” Severus said coldly.
“Severus, perhaps this is not the best time,” Narcissa interjected quietly.
“Oh, it’s probably a perfect time,” Harry said sarcastically. “As I was actually enjoying
something. We can’t have that happening for long, can we?” He shot a glare at Draco. “At
least now I know who you learned that habit from.”
“Harry, I—“ Draco cut himself off, looking regretful.
“You brought it up,” Severus said. “Now explain.”
Harry shoved his plate of cake away in resignation. “Since you think it’s so important for me
to relive past humiliations today, what do you actually want to know?” he asked bitterly.
“Why did you not know you were a wizard?” Severus asked, his eyes flashing dangerously.
“Because no one ever told me,” Harry answered flatly. “Saying the word ‘magic’ in the
Dursley’s house could bring about far worse punishment than saying the word ‘fuck’ in polite
company. They certainly weren’t going to admit I could do magic. My uncle did his best to
keep my Hogwarts letter from me. Hundreds of them came until he finally took us and ran.”
“Hagrid came and presented me with my letter personally on my eleventh birthday. Brought
me my first ever birthday cake as well,” he said, staring wistfully at his neglected slice of
cake. “He took me to Diagon Alley to get my school supplies and explained what he could
about the Wizarding world before sending me back to the Dursleys to wait until the first of
September.”
“That’s about it,” he said, shrugging carelessly. “Birthdays generally suck for me. The
majority of them I’ve spent doing chores. Since I started at Hogwarts, I get a few owls at
midnight from my friends. I reckon it doesn’t matter that I wasn’t here last night because the
Weasleys and Hermione are probably waiting until I go tonight. I would’ve expected an owl
from Hagrid at least, but . . . ,” he trailed off, shrugging again. “Last year was nice, though. I
was actually at the Weasleys and we played Quidditch most of the day.”
“This birthday started out nicely, at least,” he muttered, pulling his cake back and stabbing at
it viciously before taking another bite.
Remus squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “They are simply attempting to understand,” he
said quietly. “This is a huge shock to them and they are not intending to offend you.”
Harry wasn’t quite sure he believed that. Severus was always after him about one thing or
another. “Yeah, well, I’m just a little stressed out and don’t particularly care,” he retorted. “I
didn’t even want to come downstairs today. I sure as hell didn’t want to come down and talk
about my crappy childhood.”
“You didn’t want to come downstairs?” Remus asked in surprise.
“No, why should I?” Harry said irritably. He waved his hand expansively. “I’m suddenly
living with four of my former enemies. For some strange reason, having Lucius here now has
me a little on edge,” he added sarcastically.
“You are consistently high strung lately,” Severus said dryly. “It is difficult to tell that Lucius
has made that big of an impact.”
“Does my presence disturb you that greatly?” Lucius asked, arching a brow questioningly.
“I think I’ve just reached my limit of bizarreness,” Harry mumbled. Draco sniggered and
Harry sent him a rueful smile.
*****
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Notes

Chapter Thirty-Six
“Come on, Harry,” Draco drawled, getting up from the table
“Why?” Harry asked, drawing the word out warily.
“Just come with me,” Draco insisted, grabbing his hand and pulling him to his feet. “Mum’ll
get Victoria.”
Harry saw only suspiciously blank expressions when he glanced around the table at the
others. “Where are we going?” he asked, grudgingly allowing himself to be pulled from the
room.
Draco didn’t answer and didn’t stop until they stood in the middle of the drawing room.
“Presents?” Harry asked blankly, staring at the large pile of wrapped packages.
“What else would they be?” Draco retorted, but he looked extremely pleased with himself.
“Those are for me?” Harry questioned, brows raised in disbelief.
“I was afraid you might actually think this was bizarre,” Draco muttered. “Yes, these presents
are for you, Harry,” he said, gently tugging Harry to sit down on the floor near the pile of
packages.
“Where the hell did they come from?” Harry asked, bemusedly staring at the pile. “Certainly
this is more presents than I’ve received in my entire life.”
“You’ve been deprived,” Draco said flatly.
Harry sent a sidelong glance at Draco. “And you’ve been spoiled,” he said in amusement,
regaining his equilibrium.
“And it is your turn to be spoiled,” Narcissa said pleasantly.
The adults had followed and taken seats where they could watch Harry open his gifts.
Narcissa set a cleaned-up Victoria on the floor, who immediately crawled over to the
colourfully wrapped boxes.
“Where’d all this come from?” Harry asked. “It’s not like anyone could go shopping or
anything.”
“Well, some of it Mum and I shopped for before we came to your house that first day,” Draco
admitted casually. “Others, I’ve had to get the matching pair’s help with.”
Harry blinked in astonishment. “You were preparing to go into hiding, and you went
shopping?!”
“Only Mum did, really,” Draco said. “You know I couldn’t go out, even then. I just told her
what I wanted.”
Harry gaped at Narcissa. “Why would you do such a thing?” he asked. He was certain he’d
completely surpassed his sense of the bizarre. This was incomprehensible to him.
Severus was the one who answered. “Narcissa spent a whirlwind few hours shopping, in
several cities, leaving me an impossible trail to follow,” he said dryly. “It was not entirely for
your benefit.”
“Thank Merlin,” Harry said gratefully. He never would have considered shopping as a way of
eluding people, but it made an odd sort of sense when it came to Malfoys.
“You want presents as well?” Harry asked Victoria in amusement. She’d managed to pull a
strip of paper off of one of the packages and was waving it delightedly as if it were a flag.
“I’m sure your grandmother bought you lots of things for your birthday next month.”
“She did,” Draco said, grinning. “But Victoria can practice on yours. It’s already two o’clock
and you’ve only got so much time.”
“You said I’ve got until six o’clock,” Harry protested.
“No, I said you were expected at the Weasley’s at six o’clock,” Draco corrected. “I didn’t say
that you didn’t have other plans between now and then.”
“Where else am I supposed to be?” Harry asked, his voice rising incredulously.
“Open your gifts and then you’ll find out,” Draco said, smirking at him.
“I believe Draco is using your sense of curiosity to make sure you accept and open these
gifts,” Remus said in amusement.
“But I don’t want to accept all this,” Harry protested. “It’s too much.”
“See, I told you he’d argue with me about them,” Draco said to Severus.
“I do not recall disagreeing with you,” Severus said dryly.
“Harry,” Lucius spoke up quietly, capturing everyone’s attention. “My wife and son are
clearly quite taken with you and only wish to give you gifts in appreciation and recognition
of your birthday. From what I understand, you deserve to be spoiled for once. It will not
detract from your character to accept the gifts in the spirit they have been given.”
Nonplussed, Harry couldn’t figure out how to argue against Lucius’ comments.
“Come on, just open them,” Draco encouraged. “And if Severus tries to say anything to
bother you again, like during lunch, I’ll Silence him for you.”
Harry grinned at the now scowling Severus. “Well, with an offer like that . . .,” he said,
leaving the statement hanging.
“Start opening, brat,” Severus said wryly.
“Yes, sir,” Harry said, grinning cheekily amongst the others’ laughter.
Harry still had trouble comprehending that it was all for him, but he had a lot of fun with
Draco and Victoria, opening all of the packages. Many of the presents were clothing items of
one sort of another, which didn’t surprise Harry, considering he knew how Draco felt about
his wardrobe.
What did surprise Harry was the fact that much of it was things that he actually liked. It
wasn’t all fancy clothing like Draco tended to favour, and there was a mix of both Muggle
and Wizard. He received everything from jeans and t-shirts to formal robes. He grinned in
amusement when he received his own silk pyjamas. He appreciated them, but had to wonder
at the slight twinge of disappointment that he had no excuse to borrow Draco’s anymore. He
rather liked wearing Draco’s things.
Amongst the gifts was the outfit Draco informed him he’d be wearing to the wedding. Black,
fitted trousers, white dress shirt, green tie, and open robes that were black with green trim. A
phoenix was embroidered in the same emerald green on the back of the robes. Added to the
clothing was the tie tack, cufflinks and robe clasp – all silver phoenixes with emerald eyes.
Belt and shiny black shoes rounded out the ensemble.
Harry choked at the idea of owning an ensemble. “Draco, I can’t wear all that,” he protested.
“I’ll look . . . expensive.”
Draco chuckled. “You’re going to look stunning,” he corrected.
“People are going to know I didn’t pick this out,” Harry tried again.
“Of course they’ll know,” Draco said, matter-of-fact. “That’s why you’re going to tell them
you bought your basic clothes, Lupin got you the robe, and the matching pair borrowed the
jewellery for you because of the special occasion.”
“Oh, well, as long as you have it all figured out for me,” Harry said sarcastically.
“No boyfriend of mine is going to attend a wedding looking scruffy,” Draco said, wrinkling
his nose at the very idea.
“I was going to dress nicely,” Harry protested. “Uh, not as nicely as this, though,” he
admitted, his fingers tracing lightly over the phoenix pattern on the robe.
“I think you’re going to look incredibly handsome,” Draco said. “And I think it’s quite fitting
for you. The silver and green represent Slytherin, while the phoenixes represent your role in
the Order.”
“I do like it,” Harry admitted softly, still tracing the phoenix. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Draco said, his voice just as soft. “I’ve, uh, got one more thing for you to
wear,” he said hesitantly. “Well, I reckon it’s two, not one.”
Harry looked at him curiously, recognizing Draco’s sudden nervousness, but not
understanding the cause for it.
Draco glanced at both his mother and father before handing Harry a package that he’d had
tucked away in the pocket of his robe.
“It’s from Victoria and me,” Draco said.
Harry opened it much more slowly than he had the other gifts, sensing from Draco that this
one had a lot more significance. He carefully opened the lid on the jeweller’s box, and stared
at the contents.
“What do they mean?” he asked reverently.
Draco reached over and lifted out the silver chain with two rings dangling from it. He
captured one of the rings and showed it to Harry. It was a silver band with an intricate pattern
of ivy, and within the ivy rested a brilliant blue gem in the shape of a heart.
“This ring represents Victoria,” Draco said, which explained to Harry its rather delicate,
feminine appearance. “The blue sapphire is her birthstone and the ivy represents her birth
month as well. The silver itself is muted because grey is one of her colours.”
He met Harry’s eyes. “This is the type of ring traditionally worn by godparents of a Malfoy
child,” he said.
Harry’s eyes darted to Severus. Without comment, Severus reached into the neck of his robes
and pulled out a similar chain with a ring on it.
“Traditionally it’s worn on the pinkie finger, but Severus doesn’t wear his because of his
potions,” Draco said. “You can’t wear it on your hand because, well, because people would
ask questions. Normally it would also have the child’s name engraved inside, but I didn’t dare
risk it yet,” Draco said regretfully. “But we’ll put it there as soon as we can,” he promised.
Harry simply nodded, desperately trying to keep a hold on his emotions. This ring meant
approval from the Malfoy family for his role in Victoria’s care. It meant far more than some
arbitrary paperwork from the Ministry.
Draco took hold of the other ring, holding it up. It was muted silver also, but wider than the
other ring. Rather than ivy, there were matching intricate engravings of dragons on either
side, long wings extending forwards to surround the inlaid pearl shaped into a flower.
“This ring represents me,” Draco said. “It’s rather similar to the one Severus has and it was
also made when I was born. Pearl is my birthstone, lily-of-the-valley represents my birth
month as well and I’m sure you understand the dragons. The details on the dragons are more
elaborate on this ring, but the main difference would normally be the engraving. The
traditional engraving is there, but I don’t want to risk everything by putting my name on it.
There’s too many people who would recognize it as mine as it is.”
He practically thrust it at Harry, even while he continued to ramble nervously. “It’s a promise
ring. They’re always more detailed than wedding or bonding rings. They are traditional in the
Wizarding world, especially in the older pureblood families. But they do tend to seem more
feminine because, well, because there’s so much focus on producing heirs, which means
they’re generally given to a girl. I wouldn’t expect you to wear it properly, even if you could,
but I wanted you to have it.”
Harry had taken the chain with the rings and read the engraving. “I promise myself to thee.”
Simple and traditional.
“Draco,” Harry said his name, interrupting the flow of words still spewing from Draco’s
mouth. “Shouldn’t you shut up and kiss me now?” he asked. “To seal the promise or
something?”
Draco gazed at Harry searchingly, a smile slowly forming. He leaned in to press his lips
against Harry’s and it was so sweet and tender that Harry felt he was going to melt under the
onslaught of emotion expressed within the kiss.
They weren’t getting married, or bonding, but a promise of commitment felt close enough. It
was overwhelming and Harry’s heart felt full to burst. “Thank you,” he whispered against
Draco’s lips.
“You’re welcome,” Draco whispered back. He pulled back slightly. “I wanted you to know
that Victoria and I aren’t going anywhere.”
Harry felt like he was going to cry, which he really didn’t want to do. That was a girl thing to
do and he especially didn’t want to look like a girl under the circumstances. Things were
stacked against his favour in that regard as it was. He felt a little better about it as he realized
Draco’s eyes were shining more brightly than normal.
Draco’s lips curved into a smirk in an attempt to lighten the mood. “It’s that thick Gryffindor
head of yours – I needed something more tangible to convince you I was sincere,” he said.
Harry was oddly appreciative of the light insult, and he grinned. “Yes, because we all know
that Slytherins can’t be trusted without proof,” he shot back.
They were startled when Narcissa was suddenly on her knees beside them, attempting to hug
them both at the same time. Harry was embarrassed, but pleased to have her obvious
approval. Remus was smiling warmly as well. Severus remained suspiciously impassive.
Harry glanced at Lucius.
Lucius smiled wryly. “Congratulations,” he said. “It would appear you are, for all intents and
purposes, a part of the family now.”
Harry’s eyes widened. “And you’re all right with this?” he said, unable to keep the
incredulousness out of his voice. Less than twenty-four hours before, Lucius had been in
Azkaban and still technically on Voldemort’s side of the war. Now, he had switched sides and
was welcoming Harry into the family?
Lucius looked pained for a moment. “I’m . . . adjusting to the idea,” he said. “Certainly I
have respect for Draco to make his own decisions.” He paused, gazing at Harry speculatively.
“You wish for me to be honest?”
Harry was surprised at the question, but nodded slowly. Narcissa had backed away, sitting on
the floor on the other side of Draco, and they all waited expectantly for Lucius’ comments.
“It should come as no surprise that I have a great deal of respect for power,” Lucius said.
“And you have an abundance of power, Harry.”
Harry was already shaking his head in denial, but Lucius held up a hand to stop him from
speaking.
“You do have power,” Lucius continued. “I do not just mean that you are a powerful wizard,
although I believe once you are fully trained that you will be a formidable force. Even
without training, you hold power over the Dark Lord. I’ve learned that you have political
power in the Ministry. You have power over those you lead in the Order of the Phoenix.”
“No, I don’t,” Harry said, unwilling to let that go.
“You do,” Lucius said firmly. “You simply wield your power far differently than the Dark
Lord. You don’t use your power to harm others, you use it to help.”
“That’s not exactly something you’ve held in high regard,” Harry said wryly.
Lucius’ expression turned haunted. “No, it’s not,” he admitted. “I’ve had a year, however, to
rethink my views,” he said shortly.
The room was silent as Narcissa moved quietly to sit beside her husband again. Even Victoria
was quiet, as she crawled into Harry’s lap.
“My views have not all changed,” Lucius said. “In all honesty, I do not believe my son could
have chosen someone more powerful or influential to be with. I am fully aware that you are
wealthy in your own right. You are a leader who does not back down in the face of
adversity.”
Harry’s eyes were wide as Lucius listed what he deemed to be Harry’s positive traits. He
darted a glance at Draco, but Draco had his eyes on his father. Harry looked back, trying to
decide how he felt about this.
Lucius smirked wryly. “I find it ironic that when my son was attempting to convince me of
your worthiness as a partner – so that I would give him his ring – he mentioned not one of
these qualities. Qualities looked for in a potential mate of a Malfoy were completely
overlooked in favour of far more sentimental attributes.”
Harry only blinked in response, his mind attempting to take in all the implications of what
Lucius was saying.
“I still have concerns. Amongst them is a concern about an heir to carry on the Malfoy name.
With your obvious devotion to family, however, I am confident that the two of you will come
up with an appropriate solution,” Lucius said.
Appropriate solution? For an heir? Well, that was an impossible problem to deal with – as a
male – Harry thought.
“It’s not something I can do,” he said bitterly. He glared at Lucius. “You know this. You’re
mocking me and humouring Draco.”
“No, Harry, I am not,” Lucius said calmly. “I’m simply saying that it is possible there are
solutions I would not have been willing to consider in the past. I am saying that I expect you
to work on coming up with those solutions in the future if you two are serious about
continuing this relationship. It is the only way I am willing to condone my son being with a
male, despite whatever other qualities you may have. You have proven yourself resourceful –
I expect you to continue being resourceful.”
“So, no pressure, then,” Harry muttered sarcastically.
“Harry?” Draco said his name hesitantly.
Harry looked at Draco, then down at Victoria who was chewing on her shoe in his lap, to the
chain he was still holding – the rings representing them. Harry didn’t presume to understand
pureblood Malfoy traditions, but he recognized that the fact that he was holding the rings was
probably more significant than a verbal declaration of feelings.
For Draco to actively work to have his father accept him, and for Lucius to actually give his
approval, it was a major undertaking. One that Harry realized he’d probably never truly
appreciate.
Now was the time to let go if he was going to. It would not be easy to be with Draco, but . . .
he wasn’t one to give up.
He held up the chain. “Help me put this on?” he asked.
Draco helped him put it on, sealing the promise with another kiss. Harry felt a little odd with
it around his neck, but ridiculously happy anyway.
“Keep it hidden,” Severus said evenly.
“I will,” Harry said solemnly. He knew it was a risk to wear the chain with the rings. Severus
clearly didn’t approve, but he seemed to respect Draco’s wish to give them and Harry’s desire
to wear them.
“Draco,” Remus spoke up quietly. “You are running out of time.”
Harry looked at them curiously as Draco glanced at the clock quickly. “Shite,” Draco
muttered. He hurriedly began rummaging through the pile of clothes, still muttering under his
breath.
“What’s going on now?” Harry asked.
“I’m sure Draco will tell you when he’s ready,” Remus said, watching Draco in amusement.
“You still have a little time and you have a couple more gifts to open.”
Severus producing a package and passing it to him sidetracked Harry from Draco’s odd
muttering. Harry looked at him in surprise. Severus was giving him a birthday present?
“Lupin helped,” Severus sneered, obviously uncomfortable.
Narcissa took Victoria from him and Harry carefully unwrapped the package, recognizing it
as a book of some sort. It was rather large, with leather bindings, but had no title of any kind
on the outside. Curiously, Harry opened it to the first page.
For Harry
From the Half-Blood Prince
Harry glanced up at Severus, but the man just gestured for him to continue looking. Harry
started flipping through the pages. There were lists of spells and counter-spells. There were
also many, many pages of potions – all with the extra notes, courtesy of the Half-Blood
Prince. Some Harry recognized, many he didn’t, but it didn’t take him long to figure out that
they all had one thing in common.
“This is all about Healing!” he exclaimed.

“You have taken a particular interest as of late,” Severus said evenly. “I have compiled many
of my notes regarding the subject, and Lupin helped to duplicate and bind them.”
“Thank you,” Harry said reverently, recognizing that Severus did not give up his personal
notes on a whim.
“You’re welcome,” Severus said. “I expect you to study the contents and learn it well,” he
added.
Harry had still been leafing through the pages with interest, but now he laughed. “I will,” he
promised. As he made the promise, he realized that it was something that he was looking
forward to. He glanced down at the book again. Maybe Healing was something he should be
thinking more about, he decided.
“One more,” Remus said. “A gift for each of you, actually.” He produced two small packages
from a robe pocket and passed them to Harry and Draco.
“It’s not my birthday,” Draco said with a frown.
“Open them, and then I will explain,” Remus said.
Harry tore the paper off, revealing a silver bracelet. Casting a glance at Draco’s gift, he
realized it matched perfectly. They weren’t delicate in appearance, like the rings, and they did
look like something Draco would wear. They reminded Harry of Muggle ID bracelets, in a
way, but they were almost solid and the tightly woven chain links were formed of
interconnecting snakes. A wide, flat area spelled out Victoria’s name.
“Have I suddenly turned into a bloody girl and no one’s informed me?” Harry muttered. He
was already wearing rings around his neck and now a bracelet? He’d never worn jewellery
before in his life.
Draco sniggered. “Trust me, Harry, you’re not a girl,” he said, leering suggestively.
Remus spoke up quickly, cutting off that direction of conversation before it went any further.
“Harry, I recognize that you generally do not wear this sort of thing,” he said. “However,
there is a purpose behind the bracelets that I think you will appreciate.”
Harry and Draco looked up at him curiously.
“The bracelets are something that you can wear at all times, and they will replace the coins
that you both carry,” Remus explained.
“They have the Protean Charm on them?” Draco asked, brow arched in surprise.
“A modified version, yes,” Remus said. “They are charmed so messages can be displayed in
the place of Victoria’s name. Her name will disappear and the message will form there. We
will be able to essentially connect you to several people, all through the bracelets. It will be
simpler for you to receive messages. It will be a little more difficult for you to connect to
others, though,” he warned.
“Because we have to be careful about who exactly we’re sending a message to,” Harry said,
catching on.
“Will they heat up like the coins?” Draco asked. He’d already fastened the bracelet around
his own wrist and was now fastening Harry’s with practiced ease.
Remus nodded. “They will,” he said. “And, as long as Harry keeps his on, there will be not
be the same risk of him forgetting or losing his coins.”
Draco smirked at Harry. “Definitely a brilliant idea,” he said.
Harry smiled ruefully. “They are brilliant,” he agreed. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about
wearing a bracelet, but it did look rather wicked and it would be a lot more practical than the
coins.
“So, why Victoria’s name?” he asked curiously.
Remus smiled broadly. “I did have Draco in mind when I bought these, particularly when it
came time to choose the name to be displayed,” he said. “Victoria rather seemed to be the
safe choice for the time being.”
With his spirits soaring happily, Harry got up and gave first Remus a hug, then Severus.
Severus protested, but Harry couldn’t help but notice that the man hugged back anyway.
Harry gave Narcissa a hug next, to thank her for all the wonderful gifts. He then turned to
Lucius.
“I don’t want to hug you,” he said.
“I appreciate that,” Lucius drawled in amusement, holding out his hand for Harry to shake.
Harry shook his hand with a wide grin.
“All right, Harry,” Draco said, grinning happily as well. “If you’re through mauling
everyone, you need to hurry up and go change. Mum’ll get Victoria ready to go.”
“I’m taking Victoria?” Harry asked in surprise.
Draco dragged Harry upstairs, a stack of clothing in hand, explaining on the way. Harry had
an appointment at four o’clock. Lupin would be taking Harry, and help watch Victoria while
he was there. They would be going to the Weasleys directly afterwards. Victoria would get to
go to the party and Draco would be spending the time catching up more with his father.
Harry changed into the new black jeans and the soft, green jumper Draco insisted he wear. As
he pulled on the new boots, he asked again where he had to be at four o’clock.
“You have an appointment for an eye exam to get contacts,” Draco finally admitted, eyeing
Harry in the new clothes.
Harry stared at Draco blankly. “You arranged for me to have an eye exam and get contacts?”
he repeated.
Draco nodded.
“How? Why?” Harry asked, not understanding. “How do you even know what contacts are?”
“I talked to Lupin,” Draco admitted. “I wanted you to get your eyes magically corrected, but
Lupin said you might not want that. But then he suggested the Muggle contacts. It’s not a
permanent change and you could decide if you wanted to have your eyes corrected magically
after you got a chance to see what it was like not having to wear your glasses. He arranged
the appointment and all that.”
Harry blinked, staring at Draco in disbelief. “Why?” he asked again.
“Because I like how you look without the glasses,” Draco answered.
“You’re a vain git, Malfoy,” Harry said wryly.
“It’s not just that,” Draco retorted. “Although, I do think you look better without them.”
“Then, what is it?” Harry asked curiously. “I’m used to my glasses. They don’t really bother
me.”
Draco hesitated for a moment. “Right now, you’re Potter,” he said. He stepped closer and
slipped the glasses off. “Now, you’re Harry,” he said softly.
“Oh,” Harry breathed. That certainly gave him something to think about. Although, it was a
little difficult to think as Draco kissed him deeply.
Easing out of the kiss, Draco pressed his lips gently against Harry’s one last time before
pulling back and smirking. “I much prefer snogging Harry, rather than Potter,” he said.
That was definitely a good reason to go to the appointment and try contacts, Harry thought
dazedly.
“So, you’ll go?” Draco asked.
“Yeah,” Harry answered, rolling his eyes. “I still think you’re a vain git, though.”
“Maybe,” Draco drawled, stepping back and looking Harry over. “But I sure as hell know
what I like.”
Harry looked down at himself, trying to see whatever it was Draco was seeing. He reckoned
he looked nice enough, but he sure didn’t feel any different.
“You look fantastic, Harry,” Draco said in amusement, watching him. His tone changed into a
warning as he wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist. “You just stay away from Weaselette
tonight.”
*****
Harry had laughed off Draco’s warning earlier, but when he reached the Weasleys and saw
Ginny staring at him bug-eyed, he had to wonder if Draco had been right to warn him to
watch out for her.
“Wow,” she breathed. “You look great, Harry.”
“Um, thanks,” Harry mumbled, shifting Victoria up higher on his hip.
Ginny shook off her shock, grinning at him. She glanced around to be sure they were alone.
She was the only one outside to greet Harry, Victoria, and Remus.
“Someone’s very lucky to have you,” she said.
“Someone warned me to stay away from you,” Harry retorted.
“I bet they did,” Ginny said cheerfully. “With the way you look, I’m surprised you were even
allowed out of the house.”
“Actually, I practically got shoved out,” Harry said, grimacing.
Ginny was curious, and Remus answered. “We were in a hurry because Harry had an
appointment with an optometrist, an eye doctor,” he explained.
Ginny took a second to process that. “You don’t have to wear your glasses anymore?” she
asked Harry.
Harry shook his head. “I was told I look like Harry without them, Potter with them, so, um,
Remus set up the appointment for me and I’m now wearing contacts,” he said.
“Remus set it up?” Ginny questioned.
Harry just shrugged, smiling.
“You must have had a very busy day shopping with Remus,” Ginny teased.
“I don’t know,” Remus said pleasantly. “I have to say that other than the trip to the
optometrist, it was the easiest day of shopping I’ve ever had.”
Harry and Ginny both laughed. Remus was Harry’s cover for everything, but Ginny
understood that it was actually Draco behind all of it.
“Perhaps we should go inside now and let the others know we’re here,” Remus suggested.
“Um, actually, I wanted to show Ginny something first,” Harry said.
Remus smiled warmly. “I’m sure you would like to show someone,” he said in
understanding. “I’ll take Victoria in and let the others know you’ll be a few minutes, then?”
“If you would?” Harry said hopefully.

“Certainly,” Remus said, taking Victoria from him. She was still a little groggy, as she’d just
woken from a nap.
Harry grabbed Ginny’s hand and dragged her further away from the house and out of view, in
case anyone happened to be watching them.
“What’s got you so excited?” Ginny asked as Harry put up a Silencing Charm around them
for good measure.
Grinning, Harry reached into his shirt and pulled out the chain with the rings.
“Oh, wow,” Ginny breathed, recognition lighting her face. “He gave you his promise ring?”
Harry nodded happily.
“And this one?” Ginny asked, reverently touching Victoria’s ring as she looked at them
closely. “It’s your ring signifying you as Victoria’s godfather, isn’t it?”
Harry nodded again. “Yeah. You obviously know more about pureblood traditions than I do,”
he said dryly.
“Not that it means as much to me as it does some people, but I am a pureblood,” Ginny said.
“I grew up learning all the Wizarding traditions.”
“I’m still learning,” Harry said with a shrug.
“You do understand what it means that he gave you this?” Ginny asked.
“Yeah, I do,” Harry said softly.
“Harry, I’m a little surprised that he gave you this so soon,” she said, a small frown creasing
her forehead. “You haven’t been together all that long.”
“I know it’s all been going fast, but I’m happy, Ginny,” he said.
“I can see that,” she said quietly. “And he’s obviously taking good care of you,” she added
cheekily, stepping back and looking him over.
“I pretty much have an entire new wardrobe,” Harry said ruefully. “I bet by the time I get
back, I won’t be able to find any of my old clothes.”
“Good riddance,” Ginny said, grinning. “You look good in the new clothes. I might have to
regret giving you up.”
Harry gave her a sharp look, suddenly nervous.
Ginny shook her head. “I don’t regret it, Harry,” she said seriously. “I’m happy for you.” She
grinned mischievously. “However, I would still like to know where my own Slytherin is.”
Relieved, Harry grinned back.

“Have you talked to Zabini?” Ginny asked curiously.
Harry shrugged. “It’s been almost a couple weeks since I talked to him last, but Draco met up
with him last week,” he said. He quickly explained the situation regarding the Slytherins who
didn’t want to receive the Dark Mark and how Draco and Blaise were creating contingency
plans in case Voldemort decided he wanted to mark them sooner.
He left out the part about Narcissa and Severus adding to those plans. There were plans in
place now for them to be able to contact all of the Slytherins quickly if anything happened.
He himself hadn’t been able to contribute all that much. He hardly knew any of them, and he
certainly didn’t understand their Slytherin habits. He just knew he’d likely get a houseful of
Slytherins if Voldemort decided to send his followers out recruiting.
“Is Zabini a nice bloke, then?” Ginny asked.
“Yeah, he’s all right,” Harry said. He tilted his head curiously. “Are you really that interested
in dating a Slytherin?” he asked.
Ginny patted his chest where the rings were once again hidden under his shirt. “It’s working
out well for you,” she said pointedly.
“True,” Harry conceded. He’d have to remember to talk to Draco to find out if Blaise was
actually interested in her. Especially after the shower incident, he knew Draco would be more
than happy to get Ginny paired off with anyone – even if it was his best friend – just so long
as she stayed away from Harry.
They headed back and entered the house – where chaos reigned.
“Harry, you made it!” Hermione exclaimed. Immediately, all eyes in the room turned to him.
He didn’t know whether to be uncomfortable or amused as everyone’s eyes widened as they
took in his appearance.
He decided to go with amused. “Do I really look that different?” he asked, grinning at them.
“You’re wearing nice, new clothes that fit properly, you’re not wearing your glasses and your
hair is actually styled for once,” Hermione said, listing the differences. “You look fabulous,”
she admitted.
“I’ve had a busy day,” Harry said with a shrug. “Remus took me to get contacts and he made
me go to get my hair cut as well.” He grimaced. “Rather pointless on the hair cut as it’s
always back to normal by the next day, but no one seems to believe me.”
“Well, it looks very nice styled both ways,” Hermione said diplomatically.
“What are contacts?” Ron asked, staring at Harry bemusedly.
Harry greeted the others as Hermione went into lecture mode, explaining vision and contacts
to Ron, and Mr. Weasley, who was more avidly listening to her explanation. All of the
Weasleys but Percy was there, but there weren’t any others. When he asked about Fleur, he
was informed that she was staying the next few nights with her family. Bill wouldn’t see her
again until rehearsals on Friday.
“After dinner, and after you open your gifts,” Charlie said, speaking to Harry, “we’re going
out tonight.” His words brought almost instant looks of disapproval from Mrs. Weasley and
Hermione.
“We’ll be meeting up with some of my friends in a private room at the Three Broomsticks,”
Bill explained, eyeing his mother with amusement. “It’ll be a bit of a combo celebration – my
stag night and your coming of age.”
“It’s bad enough you going out like this,” Mrs. Weasley said. “But to take Harry and Ron
with you carousing . . . I don’t like it.”
“Now, Molly dear,” Mr. Weasley said, attempting to appease her. “The boys will be fine. It’s
just a bit of drinking. Right, boys?”
All of them nodded their agreement. Even Harry nodded, listening with interest. He wasn’t so
sure that he would be going, though. He had Victoria to think about, and he didn’t think
Draco would be real happy with the idea of him going out without him.
The arguments continued as dinner got underway. Ron was enthusiastic about it, despite the
continued censure from Hermione. Considering that she wasn’t invited to the boy’s night out,
and Ron was pointedly ignoring her disapproval, Harry couldn’t say that he really blamed
her. He just thought that maybe there’d be a better way for her to go about telling Ron.
“Hermione’s worried that there will be girls there,” Ginny whispered to Harry. “And you
know how Ron was with Lavender.”
“Oh,” Harry said, suddenly understanding a lot better. “I reckon I should probably go to keep
an eye on him then, but . . .,” he trailed off, unable to voice his concerns out loud.
Ginny simply shrugged, understanding but not having a solution for him.
Harry focused on feeding Victoria, only half listening as Hermione argued with Ron and Bill
and Charlie attempted to reassure their mother. Remus was involved in some discussion with
Arthur and the twins were whispering together about who-knew-what.
All of the arguments were dropped when Mrs. Weasley brought out a large cake. Harry
grinned happily. This family had far more respect for cake, and he was going to be allowed to
enjoy it.
“Look, Remus,” Harry said, smirking. “It’s chocolate.”
“Indeed it is,” Remus said, smiling in understanding.
“I thought you liked chocolate, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said.
“I do,” Harry reassured. “This is perfect. Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome, Harry,” Mrs. Weasley said, smiling fondly.
Harry enjoyed every last bite of his cake, but he didn’t give Victoria her own piece this time,
simply offering her small bites from the plate that he kept out of her reach.
Afterwards, they adjourned to the living room so Harry could open his gifts. He was a little
curious as to why it’d been sent to the Weasleys, but he was happy to learn that Hagrid had
sent him a gift after all. Of course, he wasn’t particularly thrilled with the rock cakes, but he
was happy with the sweets from Honeydukes, the card and the fact that Hagrid remembered
him.
From Mr. and Mrs. Weasley he received a gift meant for both him and Victoria. Mrs. Weasley
had knitted matching jumpers for them. They were really quite nice, but the fact that they
were red with gold trim, though, meant he was going to have to hide them from Draco.
“Victoria will make a lovely Gryffindor,” Fred said brightly.
“I think she’ll look perfect in it this autumn,” George agreed sagely.
Ginny was attempting to smother her laughter and Remus suddenly seemed to develop a
nasty cough.
“I did make it a little big for Victoria so she’ll be able to wear it for a few months,” Mrs.
Weasley said.
“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley,” Harry said, darting a glare at the twins.
“What?” Fred asked innocently. “I think it’s entertaining to see you and Victoria in matching
clothing – like you are today.”
“Like today?” Harry asked bemusedly.
“I didn’t think you realized how well you and Victoria were colour-coordinated,” Remus
said, his lips twitching.
“Yeah, matching in Slytherin green,” Ron muttered.
Harry looked down at his jumper and then over to Victoria in her dress in the exact same
shade of green along with black shoes. He finally registered that they were indeed colour-
coordinated and realized that Draco had deliberately dressed him and Victoria this way.
With Remus and Ron’s comments and Harry’s sudden dark look of recognition, Fred, George
and Ginny finally lost it and began laughing.
“Children!” Mrs. Weasley admonished, but she made no headway as the others slowly began
joining in the laughter.
“It is quite funny, Harry,” Hermione said, beginning to giggle herself. “You normally can’t
even colour-coordinate your own clothing.”
Fred, George and Ginny just laughed louder, knowing perfectly well that Draco had chosen
the clothing.
“Why green, though?” Ron asked in bemusement.
Harry shrugged. Telling Ron that Draco picked it out wouldn’t go over well.
“Just ignore Ron,” Hermione said to Harry. “You look fabulous in green because it matches
your eyes so well. Without your glasses, your eyes stand out even more.”
Ron was now scowling at Hermione.
“Oi! Can’t you two give it a rest?” Harry said irritably. “Don’t put me in the middle of it.”
Hermione looked chagrined and Ron flushed.
“Here, Harry,” Charlie said, grinning as he tossed Harry a package.
Grateful for the distraction, Harry ripped off the paper. When he discovered what was inside,
he grinned back at Charlie. “I reckon you think I should probably carry it on me whenever I
go anywhere,” he said cheekily.
“You never know when a knife will come in handy,” Charlie said, shaking his head in
amusement.
Bill tossed him a package next and Harry opened it to find a book about Medi-wizadry. Harry
wasn’t nearly as surprised to see it as he would’ve been before receiving the gift from
Severus. He flipped through the pages curiously.
“I thought you might find that interesting,” Bill said. “You were one of the few not squeamish
when you saw me before and you seemed quite fascinated with the healing. I thought you
might like to learn more about it as a possible career.”
“But Harry wants to be an Auror,” Ron said.
“He could always change his mind,” Hermione pointed out. “He’d have the qualifications.
Well, if we get to take our NEWTs,” she added.
“Oh, we’ll get to take our NEWTs,” Harry said confidently. “As for me studying Medi-
wizadry, well, I’m kind of interested,” he admitted. “I like the idea of being able to heal
people instead of destroy them.”
An uncomfortable silence fell over the room with Harry’s words, all of them knowing that
Harry did need to destroy Voldemort before there could be any NEWT taking or Medi-
wizardry study.
Harry snatched up the gift from Hermione, wanting to lighten the mood again. He chose the
wrong present for that, though, he realized. “Hermione,” he groaned. “Why would you give
me a book about how to give effective speeches?”
Ginny and Ron sniggered from where they were sitting on either side of her, but Hermione
ignored both of them. “I know it’s a rather practical gift, but you’re of age now, Harry. I don’t
think certain prepared speeches are going to work for you in every situation.”
Harry grimaced. “I don’t intend to give any more speeches,” he muttered.
“I don’t think you intended to give your last speech, either,” she said pointedly.
“No, I reckon not,” Harry admitted grudgingly.
“Open this, mate,” Ron said, not attempting to suppress his wide grin. “It’s from me and
Ginny.”
“We thought our Captain might find it useful,” Ginny added.
Harry ripped off the paper to find another book. He was already grinning as he read the title,
Captains in Quidditch, but as he skimmed over the highlights contained within the book –
Captains’ Inspirational Speeches That Led Their Teams to Victory – he started laughing.
Harry had to explain it to the others in the room, much to everyone’s amusement. Even
Hermione smiled, albeit reluctantly.
“Thank Merlin Harry doesn’t have Oliver’s approach to speeches,” was Fred’s opinion.
George and Harry shuddered along with Fred, in complete agreement. “I don’t think Oliver’s
speeches were particularly inspirational,” Harry muttered.
“You’ve done quite well with your speeches at the Order meetings,” Arthur said proudly.
“Rufus is rather impressed with you, as well. He was asking about you today, wondering how
you were doing.”
“Um, what’d you tell him?” Harry asked.
“Well, I couldn’t tell him I’d seen you since you visited the Ministry yesterday,” Arthur said.
“But I assured him you were coming for dinner. He did say he might stop by to talk to you
this evening.” He paused thoughtfully. “He said something odd about keeping your visit to
the Ministry out of the Daily Prophet until after he’d seen you again.”
Harry glanced at Remus, pointedly ignoring the suspicious gazes of Ron, Hermione and
Ginny. He’d technically seen Scrimgeour when he left Azkaban, but he hadn’t been in the
best of shape at the time. He realized he probably should’ve sent Scrimgeour the message
that he had survived his visit to the prison with his sanity intact. He’d also forgotten that
when his visit did get into the Daily Prophet that he’d have to answer his friends’ questions.
Harry was allowed to thank everyone for the gifts before Ron and Hermione practically
dragged him upstairs, Bill calling after them that they’d be leaving soon. Harry groaned,
realizing he still needed to sort out what to do about that as well.
*****
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Notes

Chapter Thirty-Seven
“What’s this about you visiting the Ministry?” Hermione demanded.
“I had to talk to Scrimgeour,” Harry said evenly. “Just like you suggested.”
“Did you even plan to tell us about it?” she asked, hands on her hips as she glared at him.
Harry paused. “I told Remus,” he said, knowing that wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but he
hadn’t been prepared for this conversation. “He went with me.”
“I don’t like this,” Hermione said, her eyes narrowed.
“Come on, Hermione,” Harry pleaded. “It’s not like I could get into a whole lot of trouble
with Remus.”
Hermione huffed at him. “The last time I know that you were with him, you got into an
argument with Voldemort and were involved with a large pack of Dementors,” she said
pointedly.
“Yeah, well, he also made sure I was taken care of afterwards,” he said defensively.
“Harry, I don’t want to fight with you,” Hermione said, “but I don’t like this at all. You’ve
always had more secrets and things you didn’t really want to talk about, but now . . . now you
don’t seem to want to tell us anything.”
Harry closed his eyes, attempting to keep hold of his rising temper. He didn’t really want to
fight with them, either. He tried simply changing the subject.
“Have you been able to do any more of the research?” he asked, his voice tight.
“We need to talk about all these secrets,” Hermione said firmly, not willing to back down.
Harry opened his eyes, glaring at her. “You and Ron know the biggest secret of all,” he said,
his voice low and dangerous.
“Hermione, lay off,” Ron said, staring at Harry even as he tugged at Hermione’s arm.
“Don’t you care that Harry could be in real trouble?” Hermione snapped, rounding on Ron.
“Of course I care,” Ron said. “I don’t like him keeping secrets from us, either, but I don’t see
how nagging at him is going to help.”
Hermione’s nostrils flared as she inhaled sharply. “I’m not nagging,” she said. “I’m trying to
point out to him that we’re here for him and trying to help.”
There was a knock at the door and all three turned to glare at the intruder. Harry slashed his
wand to drop the Silencing Charm as Fred looked them over with raised brows.
“What?” Hermione snapped impatiently.
Fred ignored her and looked at Harry. “Remus sent me up here to get you,” he said. “Seems
Dad was right and you’ve now got a visitor downstairs.”
“I don’t fucking want to deal with Scrimgeour right now,” Harry muttered angrily, stalking to
the door anyway. His friends followed closely, but warily.
Harry paused at the bottom of the stairs and took a deep breath, composing himself before he
went into the sitting room where he could hear the others talking. The method had seemed to
work for Draco earlier in the day, so it was worth a try.
“Ah, here’s Harry now,” Arthur said warmly, missing the underlying tension in the air.
“Good evening, Potter,” Scrimgeour said. Harry didn’t think anyone in the room missed the
Minister blatantly looking Harry over. Hopefully most of them would attribute it to Harry’s
new clothing and lack of glasses, though. “You are looking well today.”
Harry nodded once in acknowledgement. “My apologies for not contacting you earlier,” he
said, playing the game.
Scrimgeour’s gaze swept once around the other members of the room, who were all looking
on curiously. “Perhaps you could step outside with me for a private word?” he suggested.
“Certainly,” Harry said, turning sharply on his heel and stepping out of the room again.
They went outside but not far from the house. Harry raised a brow as Scrimgeour was the one
to raise a Silencing Charm around them.
“Potter, you are looking much better than when I saw you last,” Scrimgeour said. “What I
still don’t know, is whether your trip was successful or not.”
Harry shrugged. “It was successful,” he admitted.
“And you’re not telling me any more than that, are you?” Scrimgeour said wryly.
“No, I’m not,” Harry said, smirking at him.
“I discovered something today,” Scrimgeour said, watching him closely. “I went to your
house to check on you and your cousin answered the door.”
Harry glanced at him sharply, instantly worried. He was certain Draco had said that Dudley
and Uncle Vernon’s memories had been modified so that they wouldn’t be able to reveal
anything about him and Narcissa. What if Scrimgeour had somehow found out anyway? Aunt
Petunia had been helping them and her memories hadn’t been modified.
“Yes,” Scrimgeour said. “He was quite forthcoming with the fact that you did not live there
any more.”
Harry still wasn’t breathing easy, but he nodded once. Hopefully that was all Scrimgeour
knew. Even though that fact alone was irritating, it wasn’t outright dangerous for anyone. “I
didn’t know that I needed to inform the Ministry,” he said sarcastically, staying calm on the
surface at least.
Scrimgeour glared at him in annoyance. “Potter, I am not happy with being kept in the dark
regarding your activities,” he said.
Harry snorted derisively. “So, you know I’m still not telling you,” he said.
“I recognize that,” Scrimgeour said grimly. “However, considering that we are on the same
side, I believe it would be helpful if I at least had a way of contacting you should any
emergency arise,” he explained.
Harry blinked in surprise at that. “You’d actually contact me in an emergency?” he

questioned.
“It would appear you have resources and knowledge that I do not,” Scrimgeour admitted. “I
would be a fool not to take that into account during this war.”
Harry raised an eyebrow, smirking at the man mockingly. “Wouldn’t that mean you’ve been a
fool this entire past year for not working with Dumbledore?” he asked.
Scrimgeour glared at him. “Things change,” he said coldly.

Harry rolled his eyes. “In other words, you never attempted to blackmail Dumbledore and
you still think there might be some way you can take advantage of me,” he said.
Scrimgeour’s eyes widened marginally as he shook his head in resignation. “You are
underestimated frequently, aren’t you?” he said dryly.
Harry smirked in amusement. “Yes,” he admitted.
“Nevertheless, Potter, I need to know where you are living so that I can contact you quickly if
need be,” Scrimgeour said briskly.
Harry shook his head. “Don’t think it’s going to be that easy,” he warned. “Even the
Weasleys don’t know that I’ve moved out of the Dursley’s house.” Not most of them anyway,
he added in his head.
“So, you are not planning on staying here, then,” Scrimgeour said shrewdly. “Arthur
mentioned that you were coming to dinner and also mentioned something about you still
being at your relative’s house.”
“It’s safer if no one knows where I’m staying,” Harry said with a shrug. “And I don’t intend
to tell you. But I can understand the need to be able to reach me.”
He understood it, but he wasn’t sure what to do about it. There was no chance of him telling
Scrimgeour where he was at, which meant Floo and Apparition were out. Owls would be too
slow in a real emergency. Scrimgeour didn’t have a phoenix. Severus had changed the wards
so even other house elves were unable to get into Grimmauld Place. Dumbledore had only
taught the Order members how to use their Patronus to send messages. Harry himself didn’t
even know exactly how to do that one yet.
He’d been using the coins with the twins, but that didn’t exactly seem to be an appropriate
method with the Minister. But he wasn’t sure that he wanted to have Scrimgeour linked to the
bracelet on his wrist, either.
He’d been pacing back and forth a few steps in either direction, staying within the Silencing
Charm, but now he stopped and addressed the Minister again. “I’m not sure what the solution
is,” he admitted. “I’d like to talk to Remus about it first.”
Scrimgeour was irritated again but he nodded in acceptance. They walked back to the house,
scattering Harry’s friends who’d been watching and hoping to listen in.
“Could I get you some tea while you wait?” Harry asked politely once they were inside.
Eyebrows around the room rose incredulously as the Minister accepted the offer.
“I’ll get the tea,” Molly said quickly, despite her astonishment at Harry’s behaviour.
“No, that’s all right,” Harry said firmly. “Remus can help me in the kitchen.”
Molly looked nonplussed but sat back down as Remus rose and gently reassured her that he’d
help Harry.
Remus erected the Silencing Charm and leaned back against the table as Harry automatically
began putting together a tray for tea. He was familiar enough with the kitchen as Molly
hadn’t moved things around from the summer before.
“What’s going on, Harry?” Remus asked.
Harry quickly filled him in on the latest problem. He reckoned he should be thankful that it
was a little problem rather than anything major this time.
Remus frowned thoughtfully as he considered the situation. He was reluctant to inform

Scrimgeour of the Patronus method as that was meant only for Order members and
Scrimgeour was still a bit of an unknown.
Harry was reaching to grasp the container of sugar off the table to put on the tray when
Remus suddenly grabbed his wrist.
“Hey!” Harry protested. “I’m just getting the sugar.”
Remus rolled his eyes, pulling up the sleeve of Harry’s jumper to look at his bracelet. “You
can receive short messages from those of us at Grimmauld Place. Perhaps we should also
connect you to Scrimgeour.”
“Isn’t there a possibility of me accidentally sending him an inappropriate message?” Harry

asked.
Remus nodded absently, still eyeing the bracelet. “Possible, yes, but we’ve adjusted the
charm so that you must use an identifying name to send a message.”
“Like a password?” Harry asked, feeling confused about the whole process. The bracelets
were beginning to sound far more complicated than he wanted to deal with, but it was
ridiculous to carry several different coins.
“You will get used to it quickly,” Remus said.
“What would Scrimgeour use?” Harry asked.
“The item does not have to be exactly the same for this particular charm to work,” Remus
said. “Unless Scrimgeour has other charms on his watch, it would work well enough.”
Harry grimaced. “So, I will have to be connected to Scrimgeour,” he said in disgust.
“It is probably a good idea,” Remus said mildly. “You never know when you might wish to
have an easy way to contact him as well.”
Harry was forced to admit the truth of Remus’ words and nodded reluctantly. Severus had
warned him just earlier in the day that things would likely be turning bad soon, as if things
weren’t already dire enough in the Wizarding world.
“You go entertain the Minister,” Remus said, standing up. “I need to have a quick word with
Severus before I put these charms into place. Perhaps one of the others may have other
suggestions as well.”
Harry started to protest, but realized it probably was best if he stayed here with Scrimgeour.
“Fine,” he grumbled, finally grabbing the sugar and adding it to the tray.
Remus slipped out the back door as Harry returned to the living room to serve tea, wondering
how he’d gotten himself into the situation. Glancing around the room, though, he had the
sudden urge to laugh. Arthur was the only one who looked at all comfortable, and everyone
but Scrimgeour looked at least mildly bewildered.
Harry corrected that mental observation as he caught sight of the twins. They simply
appeared amused by the whole situation. Ginny, Ron and Hermione seemed to be bewildered
by Harry’s show of politeness to the Minister, as they knew how he felt about the man. Molly
was surely confused as to why the man was in her house and why Harry had turned into the
semi-formal host for the visit. Arthur seemed a little bewildered by the events, but was also
the one most comfortable, considering he worked with the Minister on a regular basis. Bill
and Charlie were sitting back and observing the odd gathering.
An awkward silence had fallen over the room as Harry entered. Inwardly rolling his eyes,
Harry fell into his role again. “Remus had to step out for a few minutes,” he informed
Scrimgeour. “I believe when he returns we can get back to business. How would you like
your tea?”
Harry calmly and efficiently poured tea for everyone as he talked with the Minister, already
knowing how almost everyone else preferred theirs. No one else seemed willing to draw
attention to themselves, only moving to accept the cups of tea from Harry. No one knew
exactly what was going on, but it was clear that Harry was firmly in control.
Harry asked about possible arrests, as if he didn’t already know exactly who was arrested.
Scrimgeour followed along, answering the questions, and Arthur was drawn into the
conversation – both men talking about the progress being made at the Ministry.
It felt like forever to Harry, but it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes before Remus
returned. “If you would excuse me for a minute,” Harry said. He was smirking as he walked
into the kitchen, thinking about how proud Narcissa would be of his show of manners.
“I gather it is going well in there, then?” Remus asked.
“I’ve just been proving I have a few of those manners things after all,” Harry said, still
smirking.
Remus shook his head in exasperated amusement.
“So, what’d Severus have to say about this?” Harry asked.
“To be honest, he’s not pleased with it,” Remus said.
Harry grimaced. “I’m still not that happy with being connected to Scrimgeour, either.”
“He’s concerned about the fact that Scrimgeour was looking for you, but has agreed that
being able to contact him quickly could be useful,” Remus said. “As he had no better
solutions, I suggest we get this done and over with so Scrimgeour will leave.”
“Yeah, I didn’t want him here at all,” Harry said, scowling as he turned to go get Scrimgeour.
“Oh, Harry,” Remus called.
Harry looked over his shoulder. “What?”
“I informed Draco about your invitation to go out tonight,” Remus said.
Harry’s eyes widened and he turned fully to face Remus. “And what did he say?” he asked.
Remus looked at him in understanding. “He said to tell you to go, but as Lucius pointed out,
it is not safe for you to drink. There would be far too much risk of you mentioning things that
you shouldn’t,” he said.
“Yeah, I reckon that’s true,” Harry said, only mildly disappointed. He was more shocked that
Draco didn’t mind. “Draco really said it was all right with him?”
Remus smiled. “Yes, he did, Harry,” he said. “I will be taking Victoria back with me and you
are to go out and have fun for a little while. It is your birthday.”
“I wish Draco could come,” Harry said with a sigh. “I don’t know that that will ever happen,
though.” He shook his head. “I reckon it doesn’t matter much anyway. Mainly I’m going just
to try to keep Ron out of trouble.”
Remus chuckled. “I did notice things did not seem well between Ron and Hermione,” he
admitted.
Harry rolled his eyes. “It’s a long story that I doubt you’d want to hear even if we had the
time,” he said, turning again to go get Scrimgeour.
A short time later and Scrimgeour’s watch had an activation that would transfer as an alert
message to Harry’s new bracelet. Harry was impressed, but he wasn’t about to say anything
in front of Scrimgeour. Finally the man left and Harry and Remus joined the others in the
living room.
“Well, that was fun,” Harry said sarcastically. “Sorry for forcing him on all of you tonight.”
“It’s quite all right, dear,” Molly said, standing to gather the dirty cups and tea things. “I
don’t claim to understand what was going on between you, but I was quite impressed with
your manners this evening.”
Harry sent a smug smirk in Remus’ direction. “I kind of impressed myself,” he said.
“What was that all about?” Bill asked curiously.

Harry was grateful when Remus answered. “Scrimgeour’s preference is to keep close tabs on
Harry,” he said mildly. “However, Harry has not exactly been cooperating the way he would
prefer. They reached a compromise of sorts this evening.”
“What kind of compromise?” Hermione asked.
“Show them, Harry,” Remus said.
Harry frowned, but did as Remus asked, pushing up the sleeve of his jumper and revealing
his new bracelet.
“Bloody hell!” Ron exclaimed. “Where’d you get that from?”
Harry’s frown deepened. “From Remus,” he said shortly.
“It looks nice,” Hermione said. “But what does it have to do with Scrimgeour?”
“We are using the same principle that you used with the DA coins,” Remus explained. “But it
is a two-way system.” He explained how Scrimgeour’s watch was connected and went on to
state that he could connect others to Harry as well.
“Oh, this is brilliant!” Hermione said excitedly. “I want to know exactly how it works.”
“I think we should get going finally,” Bill interjected, eyeing Hermione’s enthusiasm with
amusement and obviously not wanting to stick around. “This is one of my last few nights as a
free man and spending it with Scrimgeour is not my idea of a good time.”
“Sorry,” Harry said.
Bill waved his hand dismissively. “Not your fault, Harry. And I could have left, but it was
actually fairly entertaining,” he said with a grin. “It’s time to go out now, though.”
“Harry can’t go, as he has Victoria,” Hermione said.
Harry rolled his eyes. “I’ll be there in a while,” he said, sighing heavily.
“I’m going with them,” Ron said mutinously.
“Fine,” Hermione snapped.
Harry watched wistfully as all of the Weasley brothers left. Ginny had taken over with
watching Victoria and was sitting on the floor quietly playing with her, but she was now
eyeing Harry questioningly.
Harry shrugged. “Remus offered to take Victoria back for me,” he said simply.
Hermione frowned. “Won’t the Dursleys be upset about that?” she asked.
Harry shrugged again. “Aunt Petunia seems to get on well enough with him,” he said. “She
hasn’t been so bad lately.”
Hermione’s expression indicated that she definitely didn’t agree. “I want the charm set on my
watch so I can actually get a hold of you quickly,” she said firmly.
Harry took the bracelet off again as Remus connected it to Hermione, Molly, Arthur, and
Ginny.
“It’ll be like having text messaging through a piece of jewellery,” Harry muttered as he
watched the process, causing Hermione to burst out laughing.
“It’s a lot more limited, but it is rather similar,” she admitted.
He wished he’d never said anything as Hermione launched into an explanation for Arthur.
Harry gathered Victoria up from Ginny and snuggled with the little girl as he continued to
wait. Someone, probably Molly, had already gathered up Harry’s gifts and they were in a neat
pile next to Victoria’s bag. Remus would be ready to go back to Grimmauld Place as soon as
the charms were done. Harry wasn’t so sure he’d be getting away from Hermione, though.
“Have fun tonight, but do be careful,” Remus said quietly as Harry put the bracelet back on
again.
“I will,” Harry said. He stuffed his gifts into Victoria’s bag, passing it to Remus.
Remus tapped Harry’s wrist. “You can reach me immediately now if you need me for any
reason,” he said.
“Thanks, Remus,” Harry said softly. He kissed Victoria on her forehead and sent them off.
He turned back to Hermione.
“Are you going to take the time to talk to me or are you going to rush off now, too?” she
asked.
“Hermione, lay off him a bit,” Ginny said. “It is his birthday still.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Hermione said, sounding honestly contrite. “It’s just . . .”
“Ron,” Harry and Ginny chorused, finishing the sentence for her.
“Yes,” Hermione said miserably. “And I reckon I’m just tired. I haven’t felt quite like this
since third year.”
Harry had already been feeling bad for his friend, now he felt guilty all over again.
“What happened in third year?” Ginny asked in confusion.
Harry shook his head at Ginny and, grabbing Hermione’s hand, he practically pulled her up
the stairs this time. He warded the room before sitting down with her on Ron’s bed.
“I’m sorry, Hermione,” Harry said.

“It’s not your fault,” she said, tears already falling.
“It’s not?” he said bitterly. “I think it is, at least partly. I’m adding more stress because you’re
worried about me. And then I asked you to do that research. I’d bet anything now that you’ve
been trying to help the Weasleys during the day and reading any spare moment and half the
night.”
“Well, yes, but that’s my choice,” she said. “It’s not at all your fault that Voldemort’s put us in
these positions. I understand your need to hurry. It’s pounding at me as well. The faster we
can sort out the Horcruxes, the better off we will all be.”
Harry bit at his lip as he debated whether to tell Hermione or not. He would have to sooner or
later and she could certainly use some good news. “I’ve got the locket already,” he admitted.
Red-rimmed eyes shot up to stare at him. “You have the locket?” she asked, disbelieving
what she’d heard.
He nodded. “All I need to do now is figure out how to destroy it safely, but I don’t think that
part is really going to be too much trouble,” he said.
Hermione wiped at her eyes as if brushing the tears away would help her make sense of
things. “How? Why didn’t you come get us to help you?”
Harry was shaking his head. “It’s not really safe for me to tell you, Hermione,” he said. “Like
I told you earlier, I had Remus’ help with this one. And no, he has no idea what the locket
actually is – only that I absolutely had to get it.”
She tilted her head curiously. “Your visit to the Ministry had something to do with getting the
locket?” she asked, but it was barely a question.
“Yes,” he admitted.
“Scrimgeour didn’t actually help you get into Malfoy Manor, did he?” Hermione asked. It
had been her idea, but from the tone of her voice, she hadn’t expected the plan to work.
“Um, no, not exactly,” Harry said. He’d simply helped Harry get to Lucius so Lucius could
get him into the Malfoy Manor vault, but he wasn’t admitting that.
“What does ‘not exactly’ mean?” she asked sharply. “Harry, tell me you haven’t been inside
Malfoy Manor,” she demanded.
Harry’s shrug admitted that he’d been there.
“Oh, Harry,” Hermione exclaimed. “Tell me you at least had more back up other than just
Remus. We tried warning you not to go there. It’s too dangerous.”
Harry looked at her steadily. “And that’s why I’m not telling you everything,” he said evenly,
causing her to jerk back. “You and Ron want to play this by a certain set of rules – relatively
safe rules.”
He shook his head. “Voldemort doesn’t play that way and I can’t either. Both you and Ron
immediately dismissed the idea of searching Malfoy Manor. Then, it sounds like you were
just humouring me by telling me to go to Scrimgeour. You wanted me to play it safe. You
both tried to forbid me from talking to Ginny about the Chamber. Yet I needed to do those
things and they led me to Horcruxes.”
“We would’ve helped if you’d talked to us more about it,” Hermione said, but she sounded
doubtful of her own words.
“Maybe,” Harry said. “But how much longer would it have taken for you to be convinced the
risks were minimized as much as possible before going to Malfoy Manor? Without proof that
there was anything in the Chamber, how long would it have taken to convince you that I
needed to talk to Ginny about going back there?”
“I don’t feel like I have that kind of time, Hermione,” he said sadly. “It’s not that I don’t want
your help – I just don’t think you’re really prepared to help in certain ways that I need.”
He took a deep breath, knowing Hermione really wouldn’t like his next words, but he felt he
needed to say them anyway. “You don’t trust my judgment,” he said. Hermione looked
stricken, but he forged ahead anyway. “After what happened at the Ministry, you’ve got cause
to not trust me,” he admitted.
“But Hermione, you and Ron have always struggled with trusting my judgment and my
ability to make decisions for myself,” he said. “When you think I’m wrong you tend to go
over my head and go to McGonagall. With the things I’m doing, I just can’t afford to have
you running to someone because you don’t think I’m playing by the right rules.”
“We don’t trust you, do we?” Hermione said, her voice small. “Your Firebolt, your name in
the Goblet, Snape’s book, Malfoy this last year. And you’re right, we immediately dismissed
you talking to Ginny and searching Malfoy Manor. I tried to hold you back from searching
the well, too.”
“Your intentions are good,” Harry said quietly. “I know you’re just trying to keep me and
everyone else safe, but I’m playing a dangerous game, Hermione. There are risks I just have
to take.”
Hermione began to cry in earnest. Harry simply pulled her close, feeling miserable himself
for being the one to make her cry. He shifted to dig in his pocket for the handkerchief,
inwardly rolling his eyes at the fact that he had one on him at all. Draco had stuffed it in his
pocket before he left, insisting that Harry never knew when he might need it.
Hermione accepted it gratefully, despite giving him a strange look. She didn’t question him,
though, immediately turning her eyes away again as she wiped her face and blew her nose.
“All right?” Harry asked quietly.
“No,” Hermione said, sniffing. “I knew you were angry with us a little, but I didn’t
understand before that we were actually hurting you. I didn’t see it as us not trusting you.”
“Do you see it now?” Harry asked.
“Yes,” she admitted softly. “And I’m sorry for not having more faith in you. I’m supposed to
be one of your best friends, but I haven’t exactly been acting like it.”
Harry shrugged uncomfortably. “You’re still one of my best friends, Hermione. I don’t know
what I’d do without you. I don’t expect blind faith and for you to just follow whatever I say. I
just . . . I just wish you trusted me a little more instead of acting like you’re the only one who
knows what’s best for me.”
“I’ve been unfair to you, haven’t I?” Hermione said quietly.
“I haven’t been the easiest person to deal with lately,” Harry said, shrugging again. “I’m not
being fair to you, either. I feel guilty about it, but I just don’t feel like I can tell you
everything right now.”
Hermione tilted her head. “So you’ve been going to Remus instead of us,” she said.
“Yeah,” Harry said, feeling guilty yet again because he wasn’t mentioning all the other
people he was going to as well. She was going to be hurt when she found out the twins and
Ginny knew about the Slytherins and she didn’t.
He didn’t know how to tell her that most of the secrets he was keeping from her . . . they
weren’t exactly his secrets to tell. It was the lives of Severus and the Malfoys at stake and
Harry wasn’t going to risk them just to satisfy his friends. Remus had guessed about Severus
and Draco. Draco had made the decision to tell the twins, Ginny and Remus. Narcissa had
made the decision to let the twins know of her presence at the Dursleys. The only person
Harry had really informed was Severus, and that was only after severe torture. Severus’
torture, not his own, but it was still torture.
“Well, I’m glad you’re getting on with him so well,” she admitted. “It’s been a rather difficult
year for both of you.”
Considering his thoughts had drifted to Severus, Harry blinked at her in confusion for a
moment until he remembered they’d been talking about Remus. It was time to change the
subject. “I gather you haven’t slept much because you’ve been researching,” he said.
Hermione looked at him sadly. “It’s been busy here during the day, what with preparing for
the wedding. Mrs. Weasley is probably back in the kitchen again as we speak, preparing for
the reception. I’ve been doing some of the research, but I don’t feel like I’ve spent the time I
really need,” she said. “I’m sorry, Harry.”
“It’s all right,” Harry said. “I’ve been pushing too hard and forgetting that people have other
things going on,” he admitted sheepishly.
“You really are focused on getting rid of Voldemort as soon as possible, aren’t you?”
Hermione said. “I think we can all take that as a good thing, overall, but I’m still worried
about you.”
“You’re not the only one,” Harry said dryly. “I wouldn’t be one bit surprised if Remus
showed up at the Three Broomsticks later to check up on me.”
“Oh,” Hermione breathed, her eyes widening. “I’d almost forgotten about it. You should be
going, Harry,” she urged.
“Are we all right now?” Harry asked, looking at her closely.
“Of course we are,” she said, smiling at him. “I’m not nearly as confident that Ron and I are
all right, though,” she said.
“Ron likes you,” Harry said. “He’s simply a little, uh, insensitive sometimes.”
“Oh, I know,” Hermione said dismissively. “Things have just been a little strained lately with
everything going on. If I didn’t like him so much, though, I’d likely strangle him. I still
might,” she added thoughtfully.
Harry sniggered. “I reckon he just wanted to get away for a bit,” he said. “He’ll be back and
begging for your forgiveness in the morning.”
“Probably,” Hermione agreed, grinning. Her grin faltered. “You’ll go and keep an eye on
him?” she asked hopefully. “Try to keep him from making too big of a fool out of himself?”
“I’ll do what I can,” Harry said, inwardly wondering if he’d be able to do much if Ron really
decided to cause trouble. “His brothers are there and likely things will be fine.”
“I hope so,” Hermione muttered. She gave Harry another tight hug before urging him to get
going. “I’ve kept you too long as it is.”
“It was worth it,” Harry said sincerely.
*****
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Notes
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and company are property of J.K. Rowling. Songs used are
property of Bon Jovi.
Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to Bookgirl. The story would not be the same without
her unwavering support and assistance. So, some Bon Jovi for her and her concert partners.
I've been staring at the page

For what seems like days
I guess I put this one off for a while
Did I see a tear fall from your eyes
Or did you laugh so hard that you cried
When I served my secrets on a silver tray to you
~~ Bon Jovi
“Every Word Was a Piece of my Heart”
Warning: This chapter does include cross dressing. It’s the longest chapter of the story
precisely so that it is contained to one chapter. (Plus, it’s longer because I had a lot of fun
with this one!)
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Harry walked into the Three Broomsticks and was immediately herded to a back room by
Madam Rosmerta. She winked and informed him that she’d been told to keep a watch out for
him.
He stood just inside the doorway, brow raised in curious disbelief. There was a large group of
supposedly adult men playing some type of indoor Quidditch without brooms in the
relatively small room. Without thinking, he reached up and caught the Snitch when it came
flying in his direction – even while he watched the men scrambling for the Quaffle and
mostly just landing in a pile of tangled limbs, the Quaffle somewhere on the bottom.
“Harry’s caught the Snitch!” Ron crowed in triumph, standing atop one of the tables at the far
end of the room.
Everyone turned to look at Harry in silence for a moment, their positions otherwise frozen.
“Harry wasn’t even on a team and he still caught the Snitch and won the game,” Charlie said,
beginning to laugh.
Harry smirked at him. “Someone has to get the job done,” he said.
The entire group started laughing and the pile on the floor began untangling themselves.
Several people came up to greet Harry, despite the fact that he didn’t know most of them. He
knew Oliver, though, who was grinning proudly as he patted Harry on the back for the win.
“Taught him everything I know,” Oliver proclaimed loudly.
“Couldn’t have – or he’d be a lousy player,” Charlie said, throwing the Quaffle he’d
recovered at Oliver’s head.
Laughing, Harry moved out of the line of fire and over to where Ron was, flopping down in
the chair next to him.
“What took you so long, mate?” Ron asked, practically vibrating with excitement.
“I was busy consoling your girlfriend,” Harry retorted.
Ron’s face fell for a moment, but then he pushed it aside. “I’m sure she’s fine,” he said
petulantly. “She’s just mad because I got to go out tonight and she didn’t.”
Harry thought it was more because Ron didn’t make any attempt to reassure her at all, but he
didn’t mention that. “Mostly I just had to work things out with her,” he said instead.
“Did you?” Ron asked, casting him a sidelong glance. “Work things out with her, I mean.
She’s been right upset about you.”
“We’re good again,” Harry said. “Not that she’ll stop her worrying, though,” he added wryly.
“You make it difficult not to worry about you with the way you’ve been acting lately,” Ron
said. “But you’re going to have fun tonight,” he declared. “No worries!”
He cheerfully offered Harry a glass of Firewhiskey he had sitting on the table, picking up his
own. Harry watched Ron take a large swallow then promptly start coughing and sputtering,
his eyes blinking rapidly as they started watering.
“Good?” Harry asked in amusement.
“Brilliant!” Ron exclaimed. “Try it,” he encouraged.
Taking a much more tentative sip after Ron’s reaction, Harry grimaced as he swallowed the
burn. “Wow,” he breathed, feeling the heat travelling his body.
“Great, eh?” Ron said brightly.
“Hey, Ron, how much have you had of this already?” Harry asked, eyeing his friend.
“Just one earlier and now this one,” Ron said.
Harry eyed his glass warily, thinking he might just avoid drinking even the one. Ron was
already looking extra cheerful and Harry wasn’t exactly sure where that would lead.
They lapsed into talk about Quidditch and Ron described the impromptu game that had been
in progress when Harry arrived. Everyone had calmed down again for the moment, relatively
so. There was lots of loud talk and laughter and everyone seemed to be having a great time.
Another loud burst of laughter erupted and Harry and Ron looked over curiously. They
sniggered as they witnessed a couple of large canaries. The twins had obviously tricked
someone.
“I think they’re starting out slow,” Ron said conspiratorially. “Did you catch them whispering
all through dinner? They were planning something for tonight, I’m sure of it.”
Harry nodded in agreement, and only hoped that he wasn’t one of their intended targets. He
didn’t think he would be, as they generally preferred Ron, but then there was also the fact that
Draco was his boyfriend now and they knew it. He hoped that was enough to keep them from
playing their tricks on him.
“I thought I drank more of this,” Ron said, frowning into his glass.
Harry looked at him innocently. “You have drunk half of it,” he pointed out.
“Er, yeah,” Ron said, taking another large swallow and promptly forgetting about it as he
launched into more Quidditch talk.
Harry was having a good time. It had been a while since he’d had a chance to simply talk to
Ron – no assignments, no war talk – just friends relaxing.
Bill came up and slung an arm around Harry’s shoulders, practically knocking Harry out of
his chair as he’d been unprepared for Bill falling on him.
“Hey, Bill,” Harry said, smirking at him. “I’d say you’re having a good time.”
“I am,” Bill said, nodding his head for emphasis. “But you’re s’posed to be having a good
time as well, not hiding in a corner with Ron.”
“We’re not hiding,” Harry protested. “And I’m having fun.”
Bill blinked his eyes several times, giving Harry the distinct impression that he was having
trouble focusing. “I don’t think you’re having nearly as much fun as the rest of us, and this is
s’posed to be your party, too. C’mon,” he ordered, grabbing Harry’s arm and attempting to
pull him to his feet.
Harry looked to Ron, searching for help, but Ron was simply grinning widely and already
standing up. Considering that Harry was the one pretty much keeping Bill on his feet, he
figured he could’ve gotten out of it, but he went along anyway.
Charlie pressed a drink into his hands. “You’re a man now, Harry. And you’re looking far too
sober. Drink up,” he ordered.
Considering he’d only had one swallow earlier, Harry drank another swallow now under
Charlie and Bill’s watchful eyes. “Good man,” Bill said happily.
“Okay, everyone,” Charlie shouted, getting their attention. “We’ve got Harry here who’s
officially a man now,” he said, landing one hand firmly on Harry’s shoulder. His other hand
landed on Bill’s shoulder. “And we’ve got Bill here who will officially lose his manly status
in a few days.”
Laughter erupted at that pronouncement, and it took a minute to get everyone quieted down
again. “The question,” Charlie said dramatically, “is what do we do with our men tonight?”
Harry’s eyes darted about in a panic, absolutely positive that he wanted no part in whatever
they came up with. He was especially worried when Charlie’s pronouncement didn’t bring
out any suggestions – only maniacal grins. He tried edging away from Charlie but didn’t get
far as the group had closed in on them.
“We shall mark them as men tonight, so they shall always remember,” Charlie proclaimed
loudly.
“What?!” Harry exclaimed.
“You’re going to get a tattoo tonight, Harry,” Charlie said, grinning widely. “Strip your shirt.”
“I’m not stripping my shirt,” Harry protested, seriously panicking now.
“Excuse us for a moment, dear brother,” Fred said to Charlie as he and George sidled up on
either side of Harry and grabbed his arms. “We’ll sort him out.”
Charlie raised his eyebrows but didn’t protest as the twins pulled Harry away.
“I can’t take my shirt off,” Harry hissed as soon as they were away from the others.
“Why not?” George asked. “We’ve got a wicked design for you that we’re sure you’ll like.”
Harry paused, looking at him curiously. “You seriously plan on giving me a tattoo?” he
asked.
“Charlie told us the plan earlier tonight,” George said. “We worked out the design over
dinner and finished designing it once we were here.”
“What is it?” Harry asked.
“Now that would be telling,” Fred said, shaking his finger at Harry. “But it’s supposed to go
across your upper back. Now, why can’t you take your shirt off?”
“What if I don’t want a tattoo?” Harry asked, frowning at them.
They rolled their eyes, but Fred answered. “Harry, it’s not like You Know Who’s design. This
is a magical tattoo, but it’s not like it’ll have any magic woven into it other than it will move
like a Wizarding photo. With the right charm, you can actually remove it any time you want.”
“Oh,” Harry said, processing that information. “Well, I still can’t take my shirt off at the
moment.” Grabbing their sleeves suddenly, he pulled them to the loo, garnering curious looks
from the others. He closed the door and cast wards before stripping off his shirt.
Fred and George’s eyes widened as they saw the rings Harry was wearing. “Yes, that would
be a good reason not to strip your shirt,” George said matter-of-factly. “Malfoy’s promise ring
and your godfather ring for Victoria?”
Harry nodded, beaming happily that he could show them off.
“Well, the popcorn potential is getting better and better,” Fred said cheerfully.
Harry shook his head in amusement. “Maybe, but tell me what I’m supposed to do right
now.”
They had an easy solution and cast a charm that made the chain and rings temporarily
invisible, explaining that it was a modification they’d discovered when designing their
Headless Hats. For a time they’d only been able to make the hats invisible when placed on
someone’s head – which was the charm they now placed on Harry’s chain and rings.
Eventually they’d learned to make someone’s head invisible along with the hat, but with
cheeky grins they informed Harry that he probably didn’t need his neck invisible.
Eyebrows rose when Harry walked back into the main room with a grin, sans shirt, and
flanked by Fred and George.
“Just how exactly did you sort Harry out?” Charlie questioned his brothers, his gaze flicking
over the three of them.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Fred taunted, his grin threatening to split his face.
“So, where do you want me, Charlie?” Harry asked, smirking at him.
Bill cheered enthusiastically. “I think there’s more to our man than he’s let on.”
“Harry?” Ron questioned weakly. “What exactly is going on?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Just some harmless teasing, Ron,” he reassured.
“I don’t know how harmless it is,” Oliver spoke up, his eyes roaming over Harry’s body.
“You’ve grown up, Harry.”
Harry looked at him warily, realizing that Oliver actually seemed interested. Luckily, he
didn’t have to come up with a response as Charlie took charge again and directed him to
straddle a chair in the middle of the room. Bill was facing him, also straddling a chair.
“Have they warned you this is going to hurt?” Bill asked.
“No,” Harry said dryly.
Bill grinned. “The pain won’t last long,” he said. “It’s not what everyone is willing to subject
themselves to, but Charlie is under the impression that getting a tattoo is a sufficiently
masculine thing to do.”
“Great,” Harry muttered. He watched as some friend of Bill’s set to work on his arm, as he
felt hands at his back. “I thought you were getting a tattoo on your back as well,” he said
curiously.
“Nah, Charlie’s not impressed with my masculinity, but I’m getting Fleur’s name in fancy
lettering on my upper arm,” Bill explained.
“I don’t even know what I’m getting,” Harry said. “Fred and George have come up with
something.”
Bill’s eyebrows rose. “And you’re trusting them?” he asked disbelievingly.
Harry quirked a half-smile. “Surprisingly, yes,” he said. “They know they’re dead if they try
to do something too outrageous.”
Bill chuckled. “Yeah, I reckon they’ll restrain themselves a little when it comes to you,” he
said. “Harry,” he hesitated, glancing over Harry’s shoulder, “is there something going on
between you and my brothers?”
“No, there’s not,” Harry retorted.
“But you’re interested in blokes?” Bill persisted.
Harry flushed, providing Bill with his answer. He desperately hoped that no one was paying
attention to their quiet conversation. “Maybe,” he muttered.
Bill grinned widely. “It’s not a problem, Harry,” he said. “I was just curious.”
“Here,” Charlie said, suddenly appearing beside them and handing them drinks. “They have
your pain reliever mixed in them, so you have to drink,” he said, glancing knowingly at
Harry.
Harry scowled at him.

“Everyone here is trustworthy and we have the room charmed so no one can reveal anything
about what happens or what’s said here,” Charlie said, his voice hushed. “Now, you just need
to relax for once, get drunk and have a good time.”
“I can’t afford to get drunk,” Harry hissed.
Charlie looked at him sternly. “Getting drunk is a rite of passage. It’s something every
teenage boy is supposed to do at least once, and this is a special occasion. Now, you’re going
to drink and have a good time,” he ordered.
“And what if something happens?” Harry snapped.
“Then, we’ve got potions that will sober you up almost instantly,” Charlie shot back.
Harry resisted for awhile, but as the pain flared across his upper back he finally decided that
one drink wouldn’t be such a bad idea. He drained his glass rapidly after he’d made that
decision, feeling the relief soon after. He continued to talk with Bill, ignoring the twins
hovering at his shoulders as they watched over whoever was actually working on his back.
Bill’s tattoo was done before his, and he looked it over with interest. He had to admit that it
looked fantastic with deep red lettering and silvery highlights. Eventually, his was done and
mirrors were conjured so that he could see it.
“Oh, wow,” Harry breathed. In the centre of his back was a phoenix with its wings expanding
across his shoulder blades and its tail feathers extending down his spine. It was done
beautifully in shades of red, green and gold. Loosely entwined around the phoenix’s body
was a silver snake, its head resting on the phoenix’s right wing. The significance was not lost
on Harry.
“It’s brilliant,” he said, staring in awe as the phoenix’s wings flapped gently and the snake’s
coils tightened and loosened rhythmically.
Fred and George were beaming brightly, clearly proud of their design.
“I want to know what’s with you two and giving Harry snakes,” Ron said, even as he stared
at Harry’s back in fascination.
“The design is perfect for Harry,” Charlie spoke up, answering for the twins. “He’s basically
the leader of the Order now and the snake symbolizes the danger that he carries with him
wherever he goes.”
Harry exchanged glances with Fred and George. The surprise in their eyes indicated they
hadn’t seen it that way, either, but none of them were going to argue with Charlie’s
interpretation.
“Well, I reckon it’s better than a dragon on your chest,” Ron said with a wide grin.
Harry choked and Ron gleefully explained to the others about Ginny telling the other girls in
Gryffindor that Harry had a Hungarian Horntail tattooed across his chest.
Fred pounded Harry on the back, a knowing grin plastered on his features. “Ah, maybe Harry
can have the dragon later,” he suggested innocently, laughing when Harry shoved him.
Harry was denied his shirt as everyone wanted to get a good look at his new tattoo.
Otherwise, the group fell back into light-hearted banter. Harry refused another drink, but he
was relaxed and enjoying himself, getting more involved with the others’ conversations.
He was highly amused as Bill’s friends started mourning his bachelor days, discussing past
relationships. Bill shot a grin in Harry’s direction when a few male relationships were
mentioned.
Ron caught the look and Harry’s resulting blush. “You really are interested in blokes, aren’t
you?” he said.
“What if I answered yes?” Harry asked, watching for Ron’s reaction.
Ron’s brow furrowed as he thought hard about it, but he finally shrugged. “I reckon it means
you really aren’t getting back together with Ginny, then,” he said.
“It doesn’t matter if I like girls or boys,” Harry retorted. “I’m still not getting back together
with Ginny. She’s like my sister.”
Ron sighed heavily. “It made it easier to watch over her when you were with her,” he said
mournfully.
Harry burst out laughing. “That’s why you’ve been trying to get us back together?” he asked.
Ron nodded, but his expression turned wary. “You’re, uh, interested in one of my brothers,
then?”
Harry smirked at him. “No, I’m not interested in seeing any more redheads,” he said.
Relief washed over Ron’s face. “That’s good,” he declared. “If you want to see a bloke, fine,
but I don’t think I’m ready to see you with Fred or George.”
“How about an old Quidditch captain?” Oliver asked, wrapping an arm around Harry’s
shoulders.
“I don’t think so,” Harry said, ducking out of Oliver’s grasp.
“Aww, c’mon, Harry,” Oliver said cajolingly. “I bet you’d be great in bed.”
“Of course I’m great in bed,” Harry said, brow raised mockingly as he took on Draco’s
attitude. “It doesn’t mean I want to go to bed with you.”
Oliver and Ron stared at Harry incredulously, but before either could say anything, Fred and
George materialized beside Harry, staring challengingly at Oliver. Oliver’s eyes flicked
between them and Harry before deciding it was wise to retreat.
George produced Harry’s shirt. “It would appear that you are too tempting,” he said, scowling
at Oliver’s back.
Harry quickly pulled his shirt back on, not wanting to think about what Draco would have to
say about Oliver hitting on him.
“Why is Oliver here, anyway?” Harry asked darkly.
“He’s friends with Charlie,” Fred said, his scowl matching his brother’s. “And we thought he
was our friend.”
“But not if he’s going to try to take advantage of you,” George added.
Ron’s eyes were big and round as he followed their comments. “You’re sure there’s nothing
going on between you?” he questioned, his voice barely more than a whisper.
“We’re just watching out for Harry,” George said, rolling his eyes.
“And Oliver’s rather known as a slag,” Fred added. “Harry doesn’t need someone like that.”
“Oh,” Ron said, blinking rapidly. “I think I need another drink.”
“Sure thing, little brother,” Fred said, grinning again.
“I think I need to leave,” Harry muttered.
“Not yet,” George said quickly. “Just stay here. We’ll be right back and we’ll bring you both
drinks.”
Harry and Ron were left staring after them. “What do you think they’re up to now?” Ron
asked nervously.
“I don’t have any idea,” Harry answered, watching the twins as they had a whispered
conversation with Charlie. “But I have the feeling that, whatever it is, it’s going to be
embarrassing for me.”
Ron nodded his agreement. They continued to watch as Charlie set up two chairs prominently
at the front of the room, having whispered conversations with a couple more people. Fred and
George reappeared, slamming drinks on the table.
“Drink up, Harry,” Fred said, grinning maniacally. “I think you’ll appreciate it.”
“Okay, I like the tattoo,” Harry said. “I think that’s enough for surprises tonight, though.”
“Oh, no,” George said. “We’ve got one more surprise lined up for you tonight before you’ll
be allowed to leave.”
Harry tried several more protests, but was struck silent mid-sentence as Fred stunned him
with a Stupefy.
Blinking slowly into awareness, Harry registered the watchful crowd. It took him several
seconds longer to figure out why they were watching so expectantly. His eyes were narrowed,
taking in his surroundings. He was still at the party, at least. His gaze fell on Bill next to him
and his eyes widened in shock. He looked down at himself and started cursing.
“Bloody fucking hell!” he shouted. “Fred! George! What did you do to me?!”
The room was suddenly echoing with loud laughter as Harry jumped up, looking over his
change of attire. He was dressed as a girl and not at all happy about it. He was dressed all in
black. See-through long sleeved silk shirt, with a black bra clearly visible underneath. The
tails of the shirt rode over a shockingly short leather skirt. He was wearing silk stockings and
knee-high boots.
“I tried to stop them, Harry,” Ron shouted over to him, but he was grinning. “I was
outnumbered, though.”
“You look sexy, Harry,” Fred teased.
“You’re dead,” Harry ground out. “Where are my clothes?”
“You might as well give up now,” Bill said dryly from behind him. “They aren’t going to let
us go until they’ve had their fun.”
Harry whirled to stare at Bill. Whereas Harry felt like he was dressed as bad girl personified,
Bill was dressed as the good girl with plain white blouse, dark blue pleated skirt, knee-high
socks and black patent shoes.
“Why have they dressed us like this?” he pleaded with Bill for the answer, ignoring the
laughter and catcalls from the others.
“I’m afraid it’s indirectly my fault,” Bill admitted ruefully. “Stag nights often involve
strippers or other girls. Some form of humiliation is often traditional as well.”
He paused, clearing his throat before continuing. “I didn’t want to do anything to upset Fleur
– as there’s enough to worry about with the war – so I vetoed any girls being at the party
tonight. This would be my friends and my brothers’ way of retaliating,” he admitted. “Since
it’s your birthday, and partly your celebration tonight, I’m afraid you’ve gotten caught up in
it.”
“And the reason I look like this?” Harry asked, gesturing to himself. “And the reason you
look like that?”
“They’re making a statement,” Bill said wryly. “Since I’m getting married, I’m dressed prim
and proper with no sense of adventure.”
His eyes swept over Harry’s attire in amusement. “Apparently they believe you’ve got a
rather wild sense of adventure.”
Harry was still too angry to blush at the comment and he whirled back around, searching out
the twins. “Who dressed me like this?” he demanded, eyes narrowed dangerously as he
stalked towards them.
Fred and George looked suddenly wary and began backing away. “Harry, just give us one
minute to explain,” George said quickly.
Harry stilled as he felt a hand brush against the back of his neck, sending chills down his
spine. He knew there’d been no one behind him, especially as everyone had been backing
away along with the twins.
Fred and George stopped and grinned brightly as Harry’s eyes widened in recognition. “We’d
never do anything to you that was too hazardous to our health,” Fred said.
Draco was at the party and helped dress him like this? Bewildered by it all, Harry slowly
went back to sit by Bill again at the twins’ urging. If Draco was there, he reckoned he didn’t
have much to worry about and decided just to go along with it all.
Chin held high, he gave them all a haughty look. “I think I’d like my drink now,” he declared.
Fred stepped forward, bowing dramatically and presenting him with a glass of Firewhiskey.
“Thank you,” Harry said, waving him away again dismissively.
“And where did you learn to be the snooty little princess?” Bill asked, sniggering at Harry’s
sudden attitude.
“One must behave appropriately for any occasion,” Harry declared, his lips twitching as he
attempted to suppress his grin.
“Thanks for going along with this,” Bill said sincerely, but he was shaking his head in
amusement.
“So, what now?” Harry asked curiously.
“Presents!” Charlie said cheerfully, unveiling a table off to the side that Harry hadn’t paid any
attention to before. “I believe most of us felt that what was appropriate for Bill was also
appropriate for the youngest man in our group tonight, so we just doubled up what we bought
for the occasion.”
“Charlie, you didn’t,” Bill said, obviously having some idea of what was in the packages.
“You’re going to completely humiliate him.”
“Oh, Harry can handle it,” Charlie said dismissively. “We’ll just give him a nice head start.”
Picking up two packages, he tossed one to each of them.
Positive he didn’t really want to open it in front of all these people, Harry took a large gulp of
his drink before tearing away the paper. He flushed hotly when he saw the book about sex
inside. Glancing over at Bill, he realized he was holding the same book.
“It’ll get far more embarrassing,” Bill said dryly.

Harry was completely and utterly mortified as he continued opening packages. All of them
contained sex items of one sort or another – massage oils, vibrators, silken ropes, Muggle
handcuffs – supposedly everything Bill would need for the marital bedroom. Out of self-
defence, Harry finally started teasing back.
When he opened up a package that contained a silk and lace teddy and matching knickers, he
stood and held the top up in front of himself. “What do you think?” he asked coyly, fluttering
his lashes. “Do you think this will look good on me?”
“Scarily enough, I think it would look good on you,” Charlie said bemusedly. “You look a
damned sight better dressed as a girl than Bill does.”
Harry sniggered, glancing at Bill. “That’s because Bill looks absolutely hideous as a girl,” he
said. “It doesn’t take much to look better than that.”
“I want to know why Harry manages to look good no matter what he’s wearing,” Ron said
petulantly. “It’s really not fair.”
Harry tossed the teddy onto the pile of gifts and walked over to sit down next to his friend.
“Ron,” he said slowly. “Take a good look at me and what I’m wearing at the moment. Do you
really want to look good wearing an outfit like this?”
“Er, no, not really,” Ron admitted, sniggering at him.
Harry rolled his eyes. “I don’t think I will ever live this night down,” he said ruefully.
“Probably not,” Ron agreed. “Harry? Are you actually comfortable wearing that?” he asked
curiously.
Harry shifted, stretching his legs out in front of him and crossing them at the ankle, leaning
back in the chair.
“I’ve had enough to drink that I really don’t care,” he said, looking down at himself. “The bra
is killing me, but I actually like the shirt and the boots,” he admitted. “The rest of it . . . it’s
just clothes.”
He wasn’t about to admit that the silk knickers encasing his cock and balls were driving him
mental. Ron was looking at him oddly enough as it was.
Ron glanced at the pile of gifts. “You’re never going to find someone that’s going to be
comfortable with all that,” he said, sniggering.
Harry had the feeling that Draco would be quite comfortable with the majority of it, and his
cock twitched in anticipation of experimenting with everything. Not that they’d likely have
time for much experimenting until after the war.
“You planning on opening the rest of them?” Ron asked.

“Nah, I think they’re done humiliating me for now,” Harry said. “I have no idea how I’m
going to face everyone at the wedding as it is.”
Ron shrugged. “You’re Harry Potter,” he said simply. “They’d respect you even if you
showed up wearing that.”
Harry frowned. Ron didn’t sound angry, but Harry knew his fame had been a definite sore
point in the past. Ron seemed to realize what he was thinking.
“I used to want to be you,” Ron admitted. “You had everything. It’s taken me a few years, but
I’ve finally figured out that you didn’t have everything I thought you did – and what you did
have, you didn’t even want.”
“I’m doing all right now,” Harry said.
Ron snorted in disbelief. “I don’t even know half the shite you’re doing these days. And what
I do know about . . . Merlin, Harry, I don’t know how you handle it!” he exclaimed.
Harry simply shrugged and Ron sighed. They went back to watching the others tease Bill.
Harry wondered where Draco had gone. He wouldn’t be surprised if Draco was monitoring
the present opening, seeing what other oddities Harry would likely be taking home.
A pair of hands landed heavily on Harry’s shoulders. “Harry, how about giving me another
chance,” Oliver said, leaning over him.
“Back off, Oliver,” Harry said, grimacing.
“C’mon, Harry, we work well together,” Oliver said coaxingly, brushing a kiss across Harry’s
cheek.
Harry didn’t need to react. Ron turned in his chair, arm swinging. He landed a punch on
Oliver’s jaw and sent him stumbling backwards until he fell on his arse.
Harry glanced over his shoulder. “Nice one, Ron,” he said appreciatively, turning back to his
friend and dismissing Oliver.
“Thanks,” Ron said smugly.
Oliver spat on the floor. “What – are all the Weasleys your fucking bodyguards?” he asked in
disgust, getting to his feet.
“Yes,” came the answer from five angry Weasley men.
Harry glanced over his shoulder again, smirking at Oliver. “I have more protection than
you’ll ever know, Oliver,” he said.
Oliver puffed up angrily. “Harry Potter can’t take me on himself?” he taunted.
Harry slowly stood and stepped around the chair to face him. “Do you know what delegating
means?” he asked evenly.
Oliver blinked at the non-sequitur. “What are you bloody talking about?” he asked.
“Delegating means I don’t have to deal with people like you,” Harry sneered. “I have far
bigger threats to deal with.”
“You’re not even dealing with You Know Who,” Oliver spat. “He’s still attacking families
and you’re just letting him get away with it.”
Harry’s eyes narrowed.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about!” Ron shouted.
Harry glanced at him warningly, and Ron snapped his mouth shut but continued to glare
angrily at Oliver.
Oliver snorted in disgust. “I know what I’m talking about,” he said. “Friends of mine were
killed last night, and yet here’s Harry Potter, practically begging to be buggered. Where were
you, Harry?”
Harry’s nostrils flared. “Oliver, you don’t have the first fucking clue about what I was doing
last night,” he said coldly. “Since you’d obviously like to know, I was busy retching my guts
up after doing something quite horrifying – all so that I could be one step closer to
eliminating Voldemort off the face of this planet.”
There had been shuffling and angry muttering, but at Harry’s pronouncement, absolute
silence fell over the room. Oliver stared at Harry in shock.
Harry’s voice was low and dangerous when he spoke again. “Would you like to hear about
the dangerous shite I’ve been doing?” he asked. “I’ve been in two major battles with the
Death Eaters recently, and I had a run-in with Voldemort himself the other day.”
He knew they were all gaping at him and he was saying more than he probably should, but he
wasn’t about to let Oliver leave without having at least some understanding of the reality.
“You want to know something?” Harry asked, sneering mockingly. “None of it compares to
what I was doing last night. You can’t imagine the hells I’m putting myself through so that I
can rid us of the evil bastard that’s trying to destroy us all. I’m sorry that your friends lost
their lives last night, but I’m doing the best I fucking can.”
His eyes never left Oliver’s. “The only reason I’m letting you go without serious injury is
because you’re drunk and you’re grieving. I like you, Oliver, but I don’t want you fucking
touching me and I don’t want you anywhere near me. And as for me ‘begging to be
buggered’, I was rewarded with being buggered senseless when I woke up today, thank you
very much.”
More than one person flinched when Harry pulled his wand from the small of his back, but he
simply cast a spell at the doorway.
“Everyone here made a vow to keep their silence about everything surrounding this party
tonight. When you step through that doorway, you will be further committed. If you leak any
information about me from this party tonight, you don’t want to know what your body will
look like,” he said with a vicious sneer. “Understood?”
Oliver nodded slowly.
“Fred? George? You want to escort him out of here?” Harry asked.
“Sure thing, Harry,” Fred said cheerfully.
“Don’t go anywhere until we’re back,” George warned.
Harry rolled his eyes. “Understood,” he said.
Oliver went, unresisting, and a flash of red flared around the doorway as he passed through.
Harry nodded in satisfaction before turning back to the others. It was handy knowing
Hermione.
“Bloody hell, Harry!” Ron exclaimed. “How can you appear so dangerous wearing a bloody
skirt?”
Harry glanced down at his clothing, then back up at Ron, unsure of how to respond to that
question. It wasn’t at all what he’d been expecting Ron to ask about.
Bill coughed, clearing his throat. “I reckon Harry’s just proven that clothes don’t make the
man,” he said.
Charlie began sniggering and soon almost everyone was laughing, releasing some of the
tension that had built up in the room.
“Well, we’re not going to let the party end this way,” Charlie said. “I think we need another
round of drinks.”
Despite Charlie’s pronouncement, Charlie and Bill each grabbed one of Harry’s arms and
steered him to the table in the corner where Harry and Ron had started the evening. Charlie,
Bill and Ron stared at Harry expectantly after they’d all sat down.
Harry leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. Then promptly scowled and began
undoing the buttons on the shirt. They waited in silence, and some amusement, as Harry
worked to take the bra off and put the shirt back on. Sighing in relief, once again he crossed
his arms over his chest and stared back at them.
“Was all that true?” Ron asked hesitantly.
“Yes,” Harry answered shortly.
“What the fuck were you doing last night?” Charlie asked.
“Nothing that I’m telling anyone about,” Harry said, scowling darkly. “I shouldn’t have said
anything at all.”
“Remus knows?” Bill asked.
“What about Scrimgeour?” Bill asked.
Harry looked at him in surprise until he remembered the visit from earlier in the evening. He
looked at Bill curiously. He seemed terribly clear-headed for someone who’d been falling
down drunk earlier in the evening.
“Why would Harry tell Scrimgeour anything?” Ron asked.
“I don’t know,” Bill said, “but Harry said last night was terrible for him and Scrimgeour
shows up tonight acting concerned about him.”
Harry shrugged. “Scrimgeour knows only as much as I had to tell him,” he admitted. “But he
knew enough that I should’ve contacted him today and let him know that I was fine.”
“What the fuck were you doing last night?” Charlie repeated, staring at Harry in disbelief.
“Fighting the war against Voldemort . . . and winning,” Harry said with grim satisfaction.
“Do you . . . did you get one?” Ron asked, his eyes wide and hopeful.
Harry smirked and nodded, expecting the loud whoop of triumph that came from his friend.
Bill and Charlie looked at Ron in astonishment.
“I think we’re missing something here, Charlie,” Bill said.
“I think you’re right, Bill,” Charlie said.
“I don’t think they’re going to tell us, either,” Bill said.
“Nope,” Charlie agreed.
Harry grinned, their commentary reminding him of Fred and George.
Bill studied Harry speculatively. “Maybe Harry will at least tell us who was buggering him
senseless earlier today,” he said.
Harry winced, his grin falling immediately. He was cursing himself for ever having said
anything about that.
“That’s true?!” Ron exclaimed.
“Um, yeah, it’s true,” Harry admitted.
“Who?” Ron asked.
“I can’t tell you,” Harry said quietly. “I shouldn’t have said anything about that, either.”
“It’s not Remus, is it?” Bill asked.
Harry grimaced. “No, it’s definitely not Remus,” he said, shuddering at the thought.
“Well, who is it?” Ron demanded.
Harry shifted uncomfortably, really wishing he had never said anything. “Someone special,”
he said softly. “Someone I’m keeping secret right now because it’s not safe for anyone to be
with me.”
“Well, you can tell us,” Ron said. “We’re not going to tell anyone.”
Harry shook his head. “I won’t tell even you without their permission,” he said. “And
considering how dangerous everything is right now, I can’t see that happening. Risking their
life just so I can tell my friends about us . . . it’s not something they want to do.”
Ron was frowning, his brow furrowed deeply in thought. “Do I know who this person is?” he
asked.
Harry hesitated, but nodded. “I don’t think I know anyone that you don’t know,” he said
dryly.
“And it’s a bloke?” Ron asked.
Harry raised a brow as Bill and Charlie sniggered. “Um, considering I said I was the one
being buggered senseless, yes, he’s a bloke,” he said.
Ron blushed. “I was just making sure,” he said defensively. “You only told me you even liked
blokes earlier tonight.”
Harry shrugged. “I reckon I’m technically bi, but there’s really only one bloke that I actually
like,” he said.
“Harry,” Ron whinged. “Tell me who it is.”
“Sorry, Ron,” Harry said.
“Leave him be, Ron,” Bill said. “Whoever it is, they’re obviously important to Harry. And
you know Harry. He’ll be doing every little thing possible to keep him safe.”
“He’s not going to be in any danger just because I know,” Ron protested.
Fred and George arrived back from dealing with Oliver and cheerfully dropped down into
chairs at the table. “So,” Fred said. “Have we gotten to the Harry being buggered senseless
part yet?”
“Or are we still on the Harry in danger part?” George asked.
“We’re up to the convincing Ron that he doesn’t have to know who it is part,” Bill answered
dryly.
“Ah, so you haven’t learned who it is,” Fred said, sounding disappointed. Harry wondered if
they’d stopped for popcorn on their way back.
“No,” Ron said petulantly. “Harry says he won’t tell us who it is without the bloke’s
permission.”
“Ron, I haven’t even asked for his permission to tell you,” Harry said, refusing to place all
the blame on Draco. “Just like you, he’d do anything he could for his family and his family is
especially at risk right now. I’m not going to add to that risk for the simple pleasure of being
able to tell my best mate who it is I’m seeing.”
“You want to tell me?” Ron asked.
“Of course I want to,” Harry said. “It’s just not safe right now.”
Ron sighed. “All right,” he said reluctantly. “I reckon you don’t want me to tell Hermione
that you’re even seeing anyone because she’d just nag you,” he added.
Harry grimaced. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t,” he admitted. “Hermione’s worried about me
enough as it is.” Plus, she’d be more likely to start piecing clues together, he added in his
head.
“Well, I say another round of drinks to celebrate love,” Charlie said brightly. “C’mon, boys.”
He sniggered, looking at Bill and Harry. “And girls,” he added.
Bill linked arms with Harry and, with heads held high, they headed back to the main action in
the room.
An hour or so later and Harry was completely pissed, feeling no pain. So was Ron.
“I like this song,” Harry declared.
“Song?” Ron questioned, blinking at him owlishly.
“Yeah, music,” Harry said, nodding for emphasis. “Someone’s been playing it all night.
Weird Sisters. Muggle music, too.”
“Oh,” Ron said. “So, what song?”
“Just listen,” Harry said earnestly.
They paused and focused on the music that was playing in the background.
We've got to hold on to what we've got

'Cause it doesn't make a difference
If we make it or not
We've got each other and that's a lot
For love - we'll give it a shot
“We're half way there,” Harry sang off-key, loudly and with a great deal of drunken
enthusiasm. “Take my hand and we'll make it, I swear. Ohhh, livin' on a prayer.”
“It’s . . . I reckon the song’s all right,” Ron said, looking at Harry strangely.
“That’s me,” Harry announced. “And –”
He pouted when Fred slammed a hand across his mouth, cutting him off. “You’re a lousy
singer, Harry. You’d do better to keep your mouth shut,” he said pointedly.
Harry’s pout shifted into a frown and then his eyes widened in realization. Fred took his hand
away, shaking his head in exasperation.
“I still like the song,” Harry said, his pout returning. “I mean, we don’t know if we’re going
to make it or not. Livin’ on a prayer, that’s us,” he declared.
“That’s who?” Ron asked, clearly confused with Harry’s drunken ramblings.
“That’s me and –”
Fred cut him off again with a hand across his mouth. “I think you’re done,” he said dryly.
“I’ll take Ron,” George said with a grimace.
“And I’ll take Harry,” Fred said, sighing.
“Take us where?” Ron asked petulantly. “We’re having fun.”
“Just for a little walk,” George soothed.
“I don’t really want to go for a walk,” Harry said, looking down at his feet. “I don’t think I’ll
walk so good at the moment.”
“Probably not,” Fred said, grinning and hauling Harry to his feet anyway. “You’ve had quite
a bit to drink.”
Harry frowned as he allowed Fred to lead him through the Three Broomsticks. “I wasn’t
s’posed to drink tonight,” he mumbled.
“And you did good until the last couple hours,” Fred said reassuringly.
The blast of cool air when they were outside felt wonderful against Harry’s flushed skin.
“Mmmmmm, it was hot in there. This feels good,” he said.
George disappeared with Ron, then Fred practically dragged Harry around the corner of the
building.
“I’ll take him from here,” Draco drawled, lifting the hood of the cloak enough that they could
see his face in the shadows of the alley.
Harry lit up excitedly, but his shout of Draco’s name was muffled by the hand suddenly over
his mouth. Undaunted, Harry wriggled under the cloak and snuggled up close to Draco.
“Mmmmmm, missed you,” he purred in Draco’s ear.
He missed the whispered exchange between Fred and Draco before Draco enfolded the cloak
over them, but didn’t miss Draco’s arms tightening around him.
“Fuck, Harry,” Draco moaned. “Do you know what you’ve been doing to me all night?”
“I haven’t been doing anything to you,” Harry pouted, rubbing himself against Draco’s body.
“But, oh gods, I’ve wanted to.”
With a muffled groan, Draco captured Harry’s mouth under his own. Draco plundered his
mouth thoroughly and Harry could only lock his arms around Draco’s neck to stay on his
feet, feeling amazingly light-headed. He wasn’t even aware of Draco moving them, but was
grateful when he felt a wall supporting his back.
Draco’s hands were holding Harry’s hips tightly, but now they slid down, grasping the hem of
the skirt Harry was still wearing and tugging it upwards.
“Oh, yes,” Harry moaned, tearing his lips from Draco’s. “Please,” he begged. “Please touch
me.”
Draco gave him another quick, hard kiss. “Just stand there,” he ordered.
Harry nodded fervently, moaning softly as Draco knelt before him, hands trailing down his
body.
“I never imagined you’d look so hot like this,” Draco breathed, palming Harry’s cock through
the silk knickers.
“Take them off,” Harry groaned. “They’ve been driving me mental for hours.”
“Do they feel good, Harry?” Draco asked huskily.
“No, yes, oh, I just want to feel you,” Harry said.
“You better shut up, Harry, or I’m going to take you right here,” Draco said, quickly divesting
Harry of the silk knickers.
Harry whimpered, all for that idea, no matter how impractical it might be. Draco stilled. “You
want me to take you right here?” he asked.
“Please, anything,” Harry said. “Just do it now.”
With a loud groan, Draco urged him to spread his legs wider apart. Harry’s senses reeled and
he threw his head back against the wall as he felt Draco stroke his cock with one hand and
breach his hole with the other. When he felt the heat of Draco’s tongue licking at the head of
his cock, he was sure he was going to lose it. When Draco wrapped his lips around it and
sucked, he couldn’t take the assault on his senses. Without thought or care, he came in
Draco’s mouth.
He probably would’ve slumped to the ground, but Draco quickly stood, holding him up and
kissing him hard. Harry realized he was tasting himself in Draco’s mouth and plunged his
tongue deeper inside, tasting the thrill of the experience. He had to wonder why he hadn’t
thought to use his cloak like this before.
Draco grasped his arse and Harry was suddenly hoisted higher up on the wall, and he let out a
yelp of surprise.
“Wrap your legs around my waist, Harry,” Draco ordered.
Harry eagerly complied, willing to do whatever Draco wanted, locking his legs behind
Draco’s back. He threw his head back against the wall again as Draco pressed inside, filling
him.
Draco paused once he was fully inside, kissing Harry deeply. Harry held on tightly as Draco
began fucking him into the wall, simply drowning in the sensations. As hypersensitive as
he’d been for hours and with the complete thrill of what they were doing, and where they
were doing it at, the pressure built quickly and Harry came for the second time that night. He
felt Draco still as his own orgasm overtook him.
He didn’t know who was holding up who as Draco pressed him tightly to the wall, their
breathing laboured. Draco slipped out of him and Harry slid his legs to the ground, not
having much hope that they’d support him if Draco let go. Draco didn’t seem to have much
faith in his ability to hold himself upright, either.
“All right, Harry?” he asked. “Can you just stand there for a minute?”
Harry blinked at him dazedly before nodding. The wall would hold him up, even if his legs
wouldn’t. Draco smiled, kissing him gently before moving back far enough to cast a couple
of cleaning charms and right their clothing. Draco pulled a potion vial from his pocket and
ordered Harry to drink it.
“What’s it for?” Harry asked.
“It’ll calm your stomach so you’re not getting sick when I Apparate us,” Draco said dryly.
“Oh, good idea,” Harry said.
Draco chuckled, wrapping his arms around Harry again. “I’ll let you keep your drunken high,
but let’s get you home,” he said.
They made it back to Grimmauld Place, but walking was still a chore. Draco was trying to
coax Harry up the stairs, quietly, but Harry wasn’t exactly cooperating. Harry found himself
blinking dazedly at four adults in the sudden light.
“Oh my,” Narcissa said, hand over her mouth.

“Indeed,” Severus said, eyebrow raised. “Would either of you care to explain?”
“He didn’t give anything away that he shouldn’t have,” Draco said quickly.
Harry flushed. “Um, I had a bit much to drink, though,” he said apologetically.
Lucius snorted in amusement. “And your clothing?” he asked.
Harry looked down at himself, realizing Lucius was enjoying his humiliation. “It’s Bill’s
fault,” he answered.
“I think we should get Harry to bed and he can explain in the morning,” Remus said, his lips
twitching. He moved to the other side of Harry and helped a grateful Draco lead him the rest
of the way up the stairs. Remus shut the door quietly behind him as Harry collapsed on the
bed.
Draco shook his head in resignation and began unlacing Harry’s boots.
“Have you ever fucked anyone against a wall before?” Harry asked lazily, propping himself
up on his elbows so he could see Draco.
Draco hesitated, glancing at Harry before he answered. “Yes,” he said evenly.
“Thought so,” Harry said. “You’re quite good at it.”
Draco sniggered, pulling the first boot off and moving to the next. “Well, you’re no help at
the moment, so I must be good,” he drawled.
“Do you realize that I was just fucked like some whore in an alley?” Harry asked, his tone
still casually lazy.
“Do you regret it?” Draco asked.
“Oh, no,” Harry said quickly. “I think I’m going to be rather sore, but I’m quite satisfied. I’d
been wanting you for hours.”
Draco snorted. “I was forced to watch you walking around like this for hours,” he said dryly,
pulling the second boot off. “And be thankful I’d thought to pocket some of that massage oil
or you’d be even more sore.”
“What’s so good about this?” Harry asked curiously. “I’m dressed like a bloody girl.”
Draco ran his hands up Harry’s thighs. “Your legs have been on display for me all night,” he
drawled. “The skirt is moulded to your arse. The shirt simply teases about all the skin barely
hidden underneath. Your new tattoo,” he said, raising a brow, “is mesmerizing with the black
fabric casting shadows over it.”
“Oh,” Harry said, trying to process that information.

“The shirt was mine,” Draco continued. “The boots are yours. Replace the leather skirt with
leather trousers and the results would be perfect.” He unhooked the stockings and began
sliding them off Harry’s legs.
Harry watched him, too lazy, and probably too uncoordinated at the moment, to undress
himself. He was incredibly tired, but it was a good tired for a change. He couldn’t have
explained it if anyone had asked, but he felt like he was simply floating in his own little
world with Draco.
“Draco, where did the stockings and the other clothes come from?” he asked curiously.
Draco paused, looking up at Harry warily. “I don’t think you want to know the answer to
that,” he said.
Harry blinked. “I definitely want to know now that you’ve said that,” he said. “I reckon I’ve
probably been wearing Pansy’s clothes all night or something, then.”
Draco winced, giving Harry his answer. Harry found it hilariously funny and started
laughing, startling Draco.
“You’re not angry?” Draco asked, clearly bemused. Harry simply shook his head, laughing
too hard to answer. “The matching pair sent me a message about what was going on and I
didn’t exactly have a whole lot of time. I still had some of Pansy’s stuff buried in one of my
trunks and dug it out.”
“If it’s any consolation, you look far better in that skirt than Pansy ever did,” he added, still
eyeing Harry warily.
“I’m all right,” Harry said, attempting to calm down. “I reckon if you can deal with me
showering with Ginny, I can deal with wearing Pansy’s clothing.”
Draco grimaced and resumed removing the stockings without comment.
“Why did you let them dress me like this?” Harry asked after a few moments. “Or, I gather,
why did you dress me like this?”
Draco smirked up at him. “It was the older Weasley’s idea, but the matching pair didn’t dare
strip you themselves without telling me what was going on first. I couldn’t let them humiliate
you without making you look as good as possible,” he explained.
“So, it was all right for me to be humiliated as long as I was dressed appropriately,” Harry
said dryly.
“Yes,” Draco said, still smirking. “Stand up,” he ordered, holding a hand out to pull Harry up.
He swiftly removed the rest of Harry’s clothing, and pulled the duvet back before gently
shoving Harry back onto the bed.
Harry curled up on his side, watching Draco strip out of his own clothing.
“Draco, how come I didn’t feel you much tonight? I only felt your touch that one time when I
wanted to go after Fred and George,” he said.
Draco glanced down at him. “I didn’t really belong there tonight, and you haven’t spent much
time with your friends,” he said quietly.
Harry frowned. “But you’re my friend as well,” he said.
Draco smiled. “I know, Harry,” he said, crawling into the bed behind Harry and pulling him
close. “I’m the one you came home with after the night was done,” he whispered.
Harry sighed contently, happy in the knowledge that Draco was right about that.
*****
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Notes

Chapter Thirty-Nine
Harry woke abruptly to chaos with a hangover. Hooting owls, Draco shouting, raging
headache and a heaving stomach. He was positive this was how he was going to die.
“Potter! Wake the fuck up and help me!”
Harry took one look at Draco trying to deal with a couple dozen owls and pulled the duvet
over his head. He knew what they meant. Luna had told him his article was supposed to be
distributed to the public in the latest issue of The Quibbler that day.
“Winky!” Draco shouted.
Harry groaned, clutching his head. Draco ranted.
“Bloody owls . . . you’re never drinking again . . . need twenty house-elves to keep up with
your shite . . . if you weren’t already dying, I’d kill you . . . better yet, kill Wood . . . it’s only .
. . Tempus . . . half six in the fucking morning . . . three and a half hours of sleep . . . bloody
hero, my arse . . .”
In the middle of the running dialogue of complaints, Draco managed to order Winky to
redirect the owls to the kitchen where the others could help relieve the owls of their burdens.
He also ordered her to retrieve a hangover potion.
He dragged Harry into an upright position. Harry grimaced at the idea of putting anything in
his stomach, even a potion that was supposed to help him.
“Drink it,” Draco snarled.
Harry drank.
“I fucking hate you, you miserable bloody prat,” Draco muttered.
Harry whimpered in agreement.
Draco exhaled heavily. “It’ll take a few minutes to work, but it will calm your stomach and
ease your headache,” he said.
They sat there for long minutes in silence until Harry decided the pounding in his head had
diminished enough for him to contemplate moving. They showered and dressed and Harry sat
down on the end of the bed to wait for Draco to finish, without complaint.
When Draco came and stood before him, Harry looked up warily. “Still angry with me?” he
asked.
Draco gave him a half-smile and shook his head. “I was just pissed off at being woke up by a
bloody flood of owls,” he said. “You all right?”
Harry grimaced. “Yeah, I reckon I’m well enough,” he said. “I’m right sorry for all this,
though – last night and this morning.”
Draco shrugged. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he said. His mouth formed into a
sneer. “The only one who should be sorry this morning is Wood.”
“So, you were around for that,” Harry said, wincing.
“The bloody bastard was hitting on my boyfriend,” Draco snarled. “Yes, I saw that. Took care
of him, though,” he said with malicious satisfaction.
“What? What the fuck did you do?” Harry asked in alarm.
“Obliviated the fucking bastard,” Draco said without a shred of remorse.
“Draco!” Harry exclaimed.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Draco snapped. “I didn’t perform any Unforgivables, even
though he fucking deserved it for touching you, let alone talking to you that way. He might
have a couple of bruises he can’t explain this morning, but the bastard wasn’t going to walk
away with any of those memories of you.”
He paused, his gaze distant as he reflected on the memories of the night before. “I believe I
have new respect for the matching pair,” he added.
Harry gaped at him. “Fred and George helped you beat up and Obliviate Oliver?”
Draco nodded, arrogant smirk in place.
“Draco, you can’t be going about doing things like that,” Harry said.
“We didn’t hurt him too badly,” Draco snapped in annoyance. “I didn’t want to deal with
your wrath if we did.”
“Oh,” Harry said, trying to decide if he should be pissed off or happy with his boyfriend. He
had to admit, he really wasn’t feeling all that sorry for Oliver. He was more worried about
Draco getting into trouble.
“Er, thank you,” Harry said bemusedly, tilting his head back to look at him. For defending me
and for managing to restrain yourself, he added silently, fairly certain Draco understood even
without him saying the extra words.
Draco’s smug smirk was back. “You’re welcome,” he drawled. He planted a kiss on Harry’s
upturned face. “Now, let’s go see what all your bloody owls are about.”
“It’s just the release of the article,” Harry grumbled. On the way downstairs, he told Draco
about the impromptu post-opening party at the Gryffindor table when the article had come
out in fifth year.
Walking into the kitchen, they found Remus, Lucius and Winky relieving yet more owls of
their burdens and checking them for curses.
“Bloody hell,” Harry muttered in disgust, eying the already large pile of post in the middle of
the table.
He gave the table a wide berth and went to pour him and Draco some tea.
“Feeling all right?” Remus asked.
“Yeah, thanks,” Harry said.
“You deserved to suffer longer,” Lucius drawled. “I believe you were warned not to drink last
night.”
Harry glanced over his shoulder curiously. Lucius sounded far more amused than angry.
Harry glared when he realized the man was smirking at him.
“Bastard,” Harry muttered.
Lucius chuckled outright, clearly enjoying Harry’s discomfort. “I am not the one who drank
too much and ended up dressed as a female,” he said.
Harry flushed hotly, darting a glare at Draco. “I wasn’t drunk at the time, I was unconscious,”
he ground out. “Your son did that to me.”
A sly smile was playing on Draco’s lips, but he didn’t say anything. It may have started as a
joke, but it had turned out more pleasurable than they’d anticipated. Harry was thankful
Draco wasn’t about to admit that to his father.
Remus’ brows had shot up in surprise. “I was certain Fred and George were behind it,
playing one of their pranks,’ he said.
“Yeah, well, I’ve known for awhile now that if Draco started getting along with them, I was
in trouble,” Harry muttered.
“Ah,” Remus said in understanding, his eyes crinkling in amusement.
“Weasleys, Draco?” Lucius questioned.
Harry had started to turn back to fixing his tea, but stiffened at Lucius’ words. His voice had
been deliberately even, but Harry knew the censure was there, even if he couldn’t hear it.
Lucius was not pleased his son was going so far as to become friends with any of the
Weasleys. Harry bit down on his tongue as he waited for Draco to answer.
Draco’s eyes darted between Harry and Lucius, before his chin raised and he met his father’s
gaze directly.
“I have made the mistake of judging people by their name, Father,” he said. He pushed up the
sleeve of his robe, revealing the Dark Mark. “It led to this and the devastation of my own
name. I’ve been given a second chance and I do not intend to make the same mistakes. The
Malfoy name will be something to be proud of again.”
Harry’s eyes widened. He couldn’t have felt more proud of Draco, but he was also
sympathetic to the anxiety Draco must be feeling in spades as he confronted his father.
Lucius’ steely gaze landed on him. Harry carefully relaxed against the counter. He could see
the accusation in Lucius’ eyes, but he also saw the awareness. Lucius was not remotely
happy with the situation and his instinct was to lash out at Harry for corrupting his son. Harry
knew this. Expected this.
It was the awareness he saw that kept him from starting a fight. Whether Lucius would ever
admit it or not, he was ultimately the one responsible for tarnishing the Malfoy name in the
eyes of the majority of the Wizarding world. Harry was unconvinced that Lucius wanted to
redeem himself for past actions, but he knew Lucius wanted to redeem the Malfoy name.
Harry had never felt the political power he had so much as he did at that moment. Standing
barefoot in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, his hair a mess, he had the power over the
immaculately dressed aristocrat sitting at the table. He knew Lucius would concede to Draco.
Because Harry’s name meant something in the Wizarding world and the Weasleys meant
something to Harry.
“You do have a choice, Lucius,” Harry said quietly. There was simply only one decision he
could make if he wanted any chance of his own name meaning something again – and if he
wanted to keep the respect of his son. Draco had just drawn a very clear line and put himself
firmly on Harry’s side.
Lucius’ jaw tightened almost imperceptibly before he nodded once in acknowledgement.
He turned his gaze back to his son. “You are correct that the judgment towards certain
families has changed,” he said. “I will accept your choice of . . . associates.”
Harry spun to face the counter, attempting to hide his sudden grin. Associates, indeed. He
wasn’t sure that Draco even considered himself friends with Fred and George. If Lucius only
knew, he’d likely be proud. Draco and the twins were more like partners in mischief and
deviousness.
He fixed his and Draco’s tea, finally, and brought the cups to the table. He was glad to see
that Draco’s shoulders had visibly relaxed. Shifting his attention, he stared at the growing pile
of mail. He spotted the end of a cylindrical package. Retrieving it, he opened it to find a copy
of the magazine, as he’d expected.
“Here,” he said, tossing it at Draco.
“Does this have the article in it, then?” Draco asked, already flipping through the pages.
“I’m on the bloody front cover,” Harry grumbled. “I assume it means the article’s in there.”
“You’re always on the front cover of Wizarding publications,” Draco said dismissively. “That
doesn’t mean anything.”
“I am?” Harry asked in surprise. He shook his head. “Nevermind. I don’t want to know. With
all this post, I’m sure the article is in there.”
Draco darted a quick frown at him, but didn’t comment as he went back to perusing the
article he’d found.
“Are you not going to start opening your post?” Lucius asked, brow quirked questioningly.
“Do I have to?” Harry asked, grimacing.
Lucius frowned at him. “You truly do not care about your fame, do you?”
“It’s about time somebody figured that out,” Harry muttered. Sighing heavily, he pushed his
teacup to the side and grabbed an envelope. “Well, dig in. We need to discover what the
masses have to say, after all,” he said sarcastically.
“Harry,” Remus said reproachfully.
Harry rolled his eyes. “Yeah, all right,” he said in surrender. “I reckon I should figure out if
there’s more positive or negative responses in this bloody pile.”
Draco lifted the magazine. “Judging by this, I’d think they’d mostly be positive,” he said.
“Yay,” Harry said flatly. “I wonder how many marriage proposals I’ll have this time.”
“What?!” Draco exclaimed.

“There’s probably marriage proposals in here,” Harry said. “Some of them even send
pictures.”
Draco glared at the pile of envelopes, tossing the magazine aside. “You don’t answer this
tripe, do you?”
Harry suddenly found the situation far more amusing than he had been. “Planning on
becoming my secretary?” he taunted.
Draco’s glare transferred to him and he relented, laughing. “No, I don’t answer my bloody
fan mail. Merlin, Draco, you know I’m not interested in any of this stuff.”
“But you do need to determine if your article was a success or not,” Lucius interjected.
Harry shrugged. “Yeah, but that’s about all I need to do,” he said. He grinned at Draco. “I
certainly don’t need to consider the different marriage proposals. Draco’s enough for me to
handle.”
He laughed as Draco whacked him on the back of the head, then moaned as Draco kissed him
possessively.
“Enough of that at the table,” Remus said in exasperation.
Harry gave him an unapologetic grin, not regretting the kiss in the slightest. Draco didn’t
appear the least bit embarrassed and calmly started going through the post. Still not wanting
to read any of it, Harry spotted the Daily Prophet in the pile and grabbed it to read instead.
His eyes widened as he saw the headline.
“What’s wrong?” Remus asked, catching sight of his expression.
Harry looked up, focusing on Lucius. “You’re dead,” he announced, passing the paper over to
him.
“Already?” Draco asked in surprise.
Harry shrugged, pulling his teacup back and wrapping his hands around the warmth. He
couldn’t decide what he was feeling. The sinking dread that he’d killed a man. Satisfied that
it was Pettigrew. Relieved that Lucius wasn’t the one who’d died, as he meant so much to
Draco and Narcissa. Resentment because Draco had his father, but he didn’t. Avenged
because the betrayer of his parents and Sirius had finally been punished.
“Harry? What’s wrong now?” Draco asked, his brow furrowed. “It was a success, right?”
Harry stared at him blankly for a moment. “Yeah, success,” he said flatly.
He glanced over at Remus. Remus looked horribly sad. Whether his sadness was for what
Harry had done or for past losses, Harry couldn’t be sure, but he suspected that it was both.
He met Lucius’ gaze. Lucius’ eyes, surprisingly, held understanding.

“You have paid a high price for this success,” Lucius said evenly.
“I’m sorry, Harry,” Draco murmured.
Harry shook his head. “It’s done,” he said, more harshly than he’d intended. He swallowed
heavily. “You’re right, it was a success, and we’re that much closer to winning.”
He desperately wanted the subject changed. “Where’s Severus? And Narcissa and Victoria?”
“Due to the chaos with the post this morning, Narcissa took Victoria up to the nursery,”
Remus said.
“And Severus?”
Remus exchanged glances with Lucius.
“What’s going on?” Harry demanded.
“Severus returned to the Manor,” Lucius informed him.
“Oh,” Harry said. He stared into his cup of tea. “Do you know when he’s supposed to meet
with Voldemort?” he asked.
“Not until later this afternoon,” Lucius answered. “He is brewing potions this morning.”
“Severus said you should be prepared, just in case,” Remus said.
Harry met Remus’ gaze, brow raised questioningly. Remus was aware of the punishment
Severus had endured when the Malfoys disappeared. He nodded once, a slight movement of
his head.
“Severus expects it to be the same,” he said quietly.
“Why him?” Harry asked bitterly.
“Because he is the Dark Lord’s favourite,” Lucius stated evenly. “And, as such, he receives
both the good and the bad. You are aware that he accepts this.”
“What are we talking about?” Draco demanded. “I thought Harry was supposed to be
preparing for a possible battle.”
Harry gulped down the rest of his tea. Fuck Severus’ privacy. Draco deserved to know what
the hell was going on. Everyone else in the house appeared to know.
“Harry,” Lucius said warningly.
“Draco’s not an idiot,” Harry snapped. “He’s going to be able to put two and two together
when Severus shows back up dripping blood everywhere.”
“What?!” Draco exclaimed.

“Harry, we don’t know that for sure,” Remus said.
“No, we don’t,” Harry said coldly. “Last time he decided to attack Hogsmeade first. When
that failed, he had even more reason to torture Severus into a bloody pulp.”
Recognition washed over Draco’s features and he suddenly looked as ill as Harry felt.
“Severus did take the punishment for us disappearing,” he said, his voice almost inaudible.
“And wished to keep you from torturing yourself with that fact,” Lucius said to Draco, but
his icy tone and glare were being directed at Harry.
“I know Severus didn’t want Draco to know,” Harry said. “But, bloody hell, he took that
punishment for Draco and Narcissa. Don’t they deserve to know?”
“I’d already guessed, but nobody had said anything, so I’d hoped . . .,” Draco trailed off,
misery in every word. Sad, grey eyes pleaded with Harry to tell him the truth. “You saw him?
Was it very bad?”
“Yeah, but he was all right,” Harry tried to reassure him. “I helped heal him and by the next
day he was as snarky as ever.”
Silence fell over the room as Harry and Draco attempted to process everything. Winky
poured them more tea and Remus requested breakfast, insisting that they needed to eat. The
post was shoved to one side while they pushed food around their plates.
“Eat,” Lucius ordered. “You do not know what the day will bring.”
“You need to keep up your strength,” Remus agreed.
Harry looked at them strangely, but started eating. There was something very odd about
Lucius and Remus being in agreement about anything. He realized, though, that it really
wasn’t any different than everyone else in the house getting along. Lucius had as much at
stake as the rest of them and he was proving that he was just as capable of putting past
transgressions aside for the sake of survival. Albeit, with ulterior motives.
Harry wondered if everyone was just keeping up appearances when he was around. He’d
witnessed a few minor disagreements, but nothing major. It wasn’t something he wanted to
question aloud. Ultimately, he was grateful everyone was suppressing their animosity, even if
it was only in his presence. He had far too much to deal with as it was.
As he continued to eat, he pondered what it might be like if – when – he won the war. Would
all of these truces prove to be only temporary once the common goal had been met? He
rubbed his chest, feeling the rings hidden beneath his shirt. Some of them may be temporary,
but not all of them.
Draco put a hand on his thigh, capturing his attention. Harry glanced at him and smiled,
warmed when Draco gave him a small smile in return.
After breakfast, they returned to the post, which was mostly positive. It gave them something
to focus on as they waited for word from Severus.
They discovered a letter in the pile from Blaise, addressed to Harry for protection, but clearly
meant for Draco. A vague letter that still expressed his concern. Draco wasn’t allowed to tell
Blaise the truth about his father, but he wrote a vague letter in return, telling him he was fine
and he’d meet with him as soon as he could.
“Oh, make sure you ask him how he feels about Ginny,” Harry said.
“I’ve already worked to pique his interest in her,” Draco admitted absently, dipping his quill
in the ink.
Harry grinned, his suspicions on that topic confirmed. “You’ve been listing Ginny’s positive
traits, have you?” he teased.
Draco sneered at him. “I better not hear you listing her positive traits,” he warned.
Harry told him about his conversation with Ginny the day before.
“Well, now we just have to figure out how to get them together in the same place,” Draco
said.
“I have no idea how we’re going to do that,” Harry said.
They discussed various ideas as they continued to go through the post. Draco came across a
letter from Hermione that was more worrisome than the one from Blaise. Rather than being
happy about Lucius’ death, as Harry would’ve expected, she reminded Harry of Crouch.
“My father is declared dead,” Draco said. “Why is she trying to give you more worries than
you’ve already got?”
“Draco, Hermione’s right to be worried,” Harry said dryly. “Lucius did get out the same way
Crouch did.”
Draco’s face twisted. “Granger’s too smart for her own good,” he grumbled.
Harry rolled his eyes. “At least your father is on my side,” he said.
“I am,” Lucius agreed, coming back into the room carrying a dagger.
Harry’s eyes widened. “And it’s a good thing you’re on my side,” he said.
Lucius smirked at him, holding the sheathed blade and presenting the hilt of the dagger.
Harry accepted it warily.
“What’s this for?” Harry asked.
“Additional protection,” Lucius said.
“I’ve got my wand,” Harry protested.
“And if you lose your wand?” Lucius asked, brow raised.

“I’ll request a bloody sword,” Harry muttered.
“What?” Draco asked, looking at him oddly.
“Nothing,” Harry said. He was going to have to tell Draco about Gryffindor’s sword at some
point, but he didn’t feel like getting into all that at the moment.
Draco looked like he was going to press the issue, but instead asked to see the dagger. Harry
watched as Draco examined it. He shook his head, wondering at the fact that he was
becoming more and more associated with snakes. The hilt had an ornate snake design,
cobras, if he wasn’t mistaken. Draco pulled it from the sheath. The blade was wickedly sharp,
glinting in the light. That was the part that disturbed him.
“You have to be close to use a dagger,” he said, unconsciously rubbing his arm where the
basilisk’s fang had pierced him.
“It’s personal,” Lucius agreed. “But you can use all the protection you can get.” He paused.
“Which is why I will be coming with you.”
“Coming with me where?” Harry asked, confused.
“If Severus does call you to a battle this afternoon, I will be coming with you,” Lucius said.
“You will be taking me instead of Draco.”
“No,” Draco protested. “I’m going with Harry.”
“Lucius, you can’t come with me,” Harry added his own protest.
“I will be able to accompany you in my Animagus form, which Draco can not,” Lucius said,
ignoring their protests.
Harry glanced at Draco warily. The ferret issue hadn’t come up since Lucius’ arrival two
nights before. Draco was scowling, but whether it was due to the mention of the ferret or
being told he couldn’t go, Harry wasn’t sure.
“You will be safest with your new Invisibility Cloak,” Lucius stated calmly. “Draco will be
safest here.”
Harry couldn’t really argue with that. He knew that he’d been lucky not to be discovered the
last time. The older cloak required a lot more care when attempting to remain hidden and
Harry had learned that, while he’d been busy translating Voldemort’s diary, Draco had been
working with the twins on improvements. Draco had also asked Severus to test it and the
cloak did, indeed, shield the Unforgivables. Putting it on was akin to wearing his own set of
personal wards. As much as he loved his old cloak, it just wasn’t as safe when walking into a
battle.
He selfishly wanted Draco with him, but he would rather Draco be safe. And it would be easy
to hide Lucius in his pocket in his ferret form.
He looked at Draco. The expressions crossing Draco’s face indicated that he was coming to
the same conclusions, even though he wasn’t happy about it.
“You would be safer with Father,” he admitted grudgingly.
“Great, so I get a bloody ferret as a bodyguard,” Harry muttered.
“Piss off, Harry,” Draco snapped.
“Draco, I didn’t insult him,” Harry retorted. “Your father is a bloody ferret.”
“And I have far more experience with the Death Eaters than either of you,” Lucius said,
cutting off their growing argument.
Remus had been silent, but now Harry looked to him for his opinion. Remus didn’t look like
he wanted to get involved in the discussion, even now.
“Severus believes this to be a good idea,” he said evenly.
“But you don’t?” Harry asked.
Remus hesitated before answering, glancing at Lucius. “I have my concerns,” he admitted,

“but I agree that if you are going to insist on going into battle, then I wish for you to have the
best protection possible.”
“And is Lucius the best protection?” Harry pressed.
Remus sighed. “Better than you going in alone,” he said.
*****
Harry stood by the cot, watching Victoria sleep. Watching the even rise and fall of her chest,
her arms and legs splayed wildly. She slept like there wasn’t a worry in the world. And there
wasn’t . . . not for her. Not that she was aware of, anyway.
He wondered if his father had ever stood watching over him like this. He felt certain that he
must have. James Potter had surely worried about what his son’s future would be like.
Harry smiled grimly. However, his father surely hadn’t envisioned his son watching over a
Malfoy child and worrying about Severus Snape. He wasn’t convinced that his father would
approve, but he was reasonably confident that his mother would. Remus certainly
understood.
Remus was currently pacing the front hallway. At least, he had been the last time Harry saw
him. Lucius and Narcissa were remaining calm and collected in their worry, sitting in the
drawing room. Draco had tried talking his father into letting him fight – and had now given
up. He was off sulking in his and Harry’s room, as far as Harry knew.
Victoria was the most calming presence by far in the household as they waited for word from
Severus. Harry looked at his bracelet again. It still showed only Victoria’s name, no matter
how many times he’d looked at it. He knew it would heat up in warning, but that didn’t keep
him from checking.
Harry decided anew that he hated waiting. He did much better when he only had five minutes
warning. He wanted to move. Take action. Do something.
He whirled, wand in hand, when the nursery door opened.
Narcissa arched a perfectly sculpted brow.
“Sorry,” Harry muttered. He used his wand to cast a Silencing Charm around Victoria’s cot so
she wouldn’t be disturbed, before stuffing it in his back pocket.
“I thought I might find you in here,” Narcissa said, coming to stand beside him.
Harry shrugged.
“I have yet to thank you for bringing Lucius back to me,” she said softly.
“I had to get the locket,” Harry muttered.
Narcissa smiled knowingly. “I do believe that if Severus had gone alone, he would’ve come
back with the locket, but not Lucius.”
Harry smiled reluctantly. “Maybe,” he admitted.
He was startled as Narcissa suddenly enfolded him in a hug. He hugged her back, inhaling
her flowery perfume. There were so many things that were hard to deal with surrounding
Lucius’ breakout from Azkaban but, ultimately, he decided that he was satisfied with the end
results.
When she released him, her eyes were bright with tears, but she didn’t let them fall. “I know
this has all been extremely difficult for you, but I am incredibly grateful for all that you have
done,” she said. “I’m also very pleased that you are now a member of my family.”
“Thank you,” Harry said quietly.
He frowned thoughtfully for a moment before giving her a lopsided smile. “It’s always been
my greatest wish to belong to a family of criminals,” he said cheekily. “Now that I’ve freed
Lucius from Azkaban, I should fit right in.”
Narcissa laughed lightly. “I am expecting you to keep Draco in line, Harry,” she chided.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, grinning. “But aren’t mothers supposed to be on their son’s side?”
“I am,” she said softly.
Harry blinked at her.
She kissed him on the forehead. “I could not be prouder of the both of you,” she said.
Swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, he was grateful for the interruption as Draco
stormed into the room.
“There you are!” Draco exclaimed. “Tell me what the fuck this is?”
He held up the jumper Mrs. Weasley had knitted for Victoria.
Harry winced. “You’ve been going through my birthday presents, haven’t you?”
A very brief flash of chagrin crossed Draco’s features before he obviously dismissed it. “Yes,
and I found this. Along with one that matched,” he said, making it sound like a horrible
offence and ignoring the fact that he’d matched Harry and Victoria in Slytherin green the day
before.
“I think it’s adorable,” Narcissa said, her lips twitching at the sight of her son’s vexation.
“Adorable? It’s Gryffindor!” Draco exclaimed.
“Just don’t destroy it,” Harry said, sighing.
That made Draco pause. “I wasn’t going to destroy it,” he said. “I was just going to hide it
with your other Weasley jumpers.”
Harry’s eyes widened. “You didn’t throw out my jumpers, did you?”
“No,” Draco said irritably. “I just told you. I hid them. I did throw out all that other horrid
material you called clothing, though.”
“I figured you did,” Harry admitted. “I just hadn’t thought about my Weasley jumpers.”
“Victoria can not wear a Gryffindor jumper,” Draco stated firmly, back to his original
purpose.
Harry looked back at Victoria, still sleeping peacefully in her cot. “Narcissa?”
“Yes, Harry?”
“Do you think Victoria will survive her childhood with me and Draco as her parents?” he
asked.
“I do,” Narcissa said, her amusement coming through loud and clear in her voice. “However,
I’m already looking forward to the times when she runs to her grandparents, needing a break
from her parents.”
“Harry and I are excellent parents,” Draco said haughtily. “Excellent Slytherin parents.”
“Draco, dear,” Narcissa said. “Harry is a Gryffindor.”
“But he’s half Slytherin,” Draco said.
“Is telling yourself that what allows you to sleep with me at night?” Harry asked sarcastically.
Draco leered at him suggestively.
“Do not answer that,” Narcissa said quickly. “You two can go to your room to finish that
discussion.”
Harry impulsively kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you,” he said.
“For what?” she asked in surprise.
He shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed. “I’m not sure all mothers would be so
understanding, even if we are both of age. Especially with . . . everything.”
“Us criminals have to stick together,” she said sagely, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
Harry laughed, pulling a bemused Draco from the room.
*****
Harry and Draco were going through and discussing Harry’s gifts from the stag night as a
distraction when Winky popped into their bedroom.
“Master Snape is requesting Master Harry downstairs,” she said anxiously.
They practically flew down the stairs. Without a word, Lucius directed them into Snape’s
bedroom. Draco halted immediately inside the doorway, staring in horror.
“Fucking hell,” Harry cursed, striding forward, his wand already in hand. “Doesn’t the
bastard know that you’re his favourite?”
Remus looked at him in surprise, his eyes darting between Harry and Severus even as he
helped Severus remove the shredded remains of his robes. “Maybe Harry can handle seeing
you like this,” he acknowledged.
Severus was a mess, possibly even worse than Harry had seen him the last time. But then,
after the Hogsmeade battle Severus had already taken several potions and had been working
to heal himself before Harry had arrived. He was shaking horribly, surely the effects of too
many Cruciatus curses. Blood was pouring from his many wounds.
“Is whipping a regular thing, or does he reserve it for special occasions?” Harry asked
irreverently, looking Severus over from a careful distance.
Severus was scowling furiously, not pleased with the fussing he was receiving from Remus
and Narcissa. Narcissa was retrieving potions and helping Severus drink them as Remus
continued to strip him down to his trousers.
“Special occasions,” Lucius answered from near the doorway. He was standing with his hand
on Draco’s shoulder. Glancing at them, Harry wondered if Draco was going to be all right.
Draco looked decidedly green around the edges, his expression pained.
Peeking into the pouch of potions while Narcissa was busy with Severus, Harry plucked a
Calming Draught out and tossed it to Draco. Draco caught it automatically.
“Drink it,” Harry ordered. Hopefully it would help calm Draco’s nerves and, consequently,
his stomach.
Draco drank it without argument.
“I asked for Potter, not a blasted audience,” Severus suddenly snarled.
Harry had to wonder if Severus had waited to speak up until he could control his voice. He
wasn’t shaking any longer, so some of the potions must’ve been working.
“Severus, you need assistance,” Narcissa said calmly.
“And Potter will assist,” Severus snapped. “Now back away.”
“Um, actually, why did you ask for me?” Harry asked curiously. Remus and Narcissa were
helping him and it was odd that Severus had called for him.
“Narcissa, heal this,” Severus commanded, holding his arm up, which had been slashed fairly
deeply.
She frowned irritably at Severus’ attitude, but proceeded to heal his arm as requested. Her
wand trailed the wound as her voice lilted with the incantation. She wiped away some of the
blood as the flow eased, then repeated the spell.
Harry blinked, suddenly understanding that she’d had to do it twice before the gash started
knitting together. Frowning, he thought back to that day in the bathroom and realized that
Severus had had to do it twice on Draco’s wounds as well. Harry only had to incant the spell
once.
“Is it because of Voldemort’s magic?” Harry asked.
“Most likely,” Severus said curtly. “Lesson over. Start healing.”
Narcissa backed away as Harry knelt before Severus, beginning to heal the many wounds
slashed across Severus’ torso. Winky kept a bowl of fresh water and towels beside him and
he would pause only to wipe away the blood.
“What happened?” Harry asked as he climbed onto the bed to start on Severus’ back. “I was
expecting a battle. And then this,” he admitted.
“He has plans for Saturday,” Severus said, his voice weary. “I know little more than that, but
we will discuss it later.”
“All right,” Harry said softly. He concentrated on healing the lash marks. Severus didn’t
argue when Remus steadied him as he began to sway from exhaustion and blood loss. When
Harry was done, he left Severus in Remus’ care, realizing that the Malfoys had already left at
some point.
He found them down in the kitchen.
“How is Severus?” Narcissa asked, setting a cup of tea in front of him as he sat down at the
table.
Harry shrugged. “He’ll be all right,” he said. “Remus is cleaning him up now and, if he does
what he did last time, he’ll actually knock himself out with some Dreamless Sleep.”
“You are quite powerful,” Lucius said. “It would’ve taken at least twice as long for any of us
to heal him as you did.”
“I didn’t know I was doing it different,” Harry admitted. “Well, not different, just . . .”
“Faster and better,” Lucius said dryly.
Harry frowned at him. “I’m not better,” he protested. “It’s just because I’ve got a bit of extra
magic.”
“From an extremely powerful wizard,” Lucius drawled. Someone had obviously filled him in
about Harry’s connection with Voldemort.
“Well, yeah. I reckon this is one of those silver linings,” Harry muttered.
“Be thankful for the silver linings in life,” Narcissa said. “And, keep in mind that it wasn’t
the Dark Lord who was so amazing up there. It was you who held yourself together
admirably and used that magic so effectively. No matter where the magic came from
originally, you are the one who controls it now.”
“That’s true, isn’t it?” Harry said. He breathed deep, feeling a little better.
Discussion turned to what Severus had said about Saturday, but no one knew any more than
Harry did. Remus arrived in the kitchen, informing them that Severus was sleeping
peacefully. Harry and Draco were given a quick meal then ordered to clean up – in Harry’s
case, who was still covered in Severus’ blood – then to go to bed. They’d had little sleep the
night before and a long, tension-filled day, even though it was only six o’clock in the
evening.
Draco had been exceptionally quiet since Severus had returned, and Harry watched him
worriedly as they cleaned up then climbed into bed. His worry spiked as Draco curled up to
him for a change, burying his face in Harry’s neck.
“Draco?”
Draco didn’t answer and Harry simply held him, not pushing the matter. He felt the tears fall
against his skin and knew it was Draco’s turn to fall apart. Merlin knew Harry did it often
enough lately. He ran his fingers through Draco’s hair rhythmically, mentally cursing the
unfairness of it all.
*****
Chapter Forty
Chapter Notes

Chapter Forty
Harry was relieved as he and Remus Apparated to the Weasleys for the wedding. The tension
at Grimmauld Place was driving him mad. He knew that the day wasn’t likely to end well,
but he’d just as soon get it over with than sit around waiting any longer.
Severus still didn’t know any more than he had when he’d first returned – only that
Voldemort was aware many of the key players of the Light side would be attending the
wedding and he planned to take advantage of that. There wasn’t anything that Harry could do
to prepare.
He and Draco had spent the entire day before in training with Lucius and Remus, though.
Training with Lucius had been . . . disturbing. He’d actually wished more than once that
Severus had been feeling well enough to train him. When he trained with Severus, the focus
was still concentrated on defence. Lucius seemed to go by the theory of defending by
attacking first. Harry had quickly learned to question whether a spell was legal or not, even
though he’d learned them all.
He’d been surprised that Remus hadn’t interfered. Remus had only said that whatever kept
Harry safe, he wasn’t going to question. Draco hadn’t been nearly as easy to deal with, but it
didn’t pertain to training. He did not worry peacefully – any more than Harry waited patiently
– and he was pissed off that he wasn’t being allowed to fight in the upcoming battle. His
anger wasn’t really directed at anyone in particular, except perhaps Voldemort, but Harry
took the brunt of his irritation. Their sniping was driving everyone mental, and when Severus
had joined them later in the evening, he had quickly resorted to ordering them to their room
to work off their frustration.
The morning had gone no better than the day before. After a lot of warnings, Harry was
finally sent off to the Weasleys to attend the wedding – with a ferret in his pocket. Narcissa
had even sent him with a wrapped gift, considering that Harry had never bought one.
Supposedly it was some ornate clock meant for Bill and Fleur’s first home. Harry didn’t even
know if they had their own home or if they were still going to be living at the Burrow, but
was thankful he wasn’t arriving empty handed.
He left Remus to the other wedding guests and walked confidently into the house, dropping
the package off along the way. Mrs. Weasley greeted him warmly, exclaimed how handsome
he looked, then sent him to Ron’s room.
He knocked on the door and a harried looking Ron let him in. Ron blinked slowly, taking in
Harry’s appearance. “You sure look a hell of a lot different than the last time I saw you,” he
said.
Harry smirked. “Sorry, but I wasn’t going to wear a skirt to the wedding,” he said.
Ron rolled his eyes. “I didn’t expect that,” he said. “I’ve just never seen you look so much
like a wizard before. You really did go shopping, didn’t you?”
Harry shrugged. Remus had said that was the best impression to leave everyone with and was
willing to be Harry’s cover. It didn’t mean Harry liked lying to his friends.
“I like the phoenixes,” Ron said admiringly.
“Look at the back,” Harry said, turning so Ron could see the phoenix embroidered into the
back of the robe.
“Wow,” Ron said. “Did Fred and George know about this?” he asked.
Harry shook his head, turning back around. “Believe it or not, no, they didn’t,” he said. “I just
seem to be associated with a phoenix now.” And snakes, he added mentally.
“Makes sense, mate,” Ron said. “What with your role in the war and all. Now help me find
my tie.”
Laughing, Harry helped Ron search for his tie and waited while he finished getting ready.
They went downstairs and outside together, searching for Hermione and Ginny amongst the
guests. They were greeted by a few of Bill’s friends that they’d met at the party, Harry
enduring several teasing comments about how well he cleaned up. Eventually they found the
girls and their seats.
The closer it came time for the wedding to start, though, the edgier Harry was becoming.
“Harry, what’s wrong?” Hermione whispered, picking up on his agitation.

“Nothing, yet,” Harry whispered back. “I’m just worried something’s going to happen.”
“Why?” she asked, alarmed.
Harry gestured around them at all the people. “Because everyone’s here and this wedding is
certainly not a secret,” he said.
“Most of the Order members are here,” Hermione said in realization. “Which means it’s a
good time for him to attack elsewhere.”
“Exactly,” Harry said.
“What can we do?” Hermione asked anxiously.
Harry shrugged. “There’s nothing we can do,” he said.
Hermione didn’t look pleased with that assessment, but nodded anyway.
Harry watched the ceremony, but found his thoughts drifting. He knew Voldemort could
strike at any minute. Severus had no idea if it would be during the ceremony or the reception.
After the defeat in Hogsmeade, Voldemort was not giving out any information.
He tried focusing on the ceremony again. Fleur was absolutely radiant and Bill was
incredibly handsome. Harry thought about that. Would Bill have healed in time for the
wedding if Harry hadn’t helped? And without scarring? He felt incredibly proud of being
able to help in such a way, even though it hadn’t been all that difficult. He wondered if he’d
ever be able to tell them that it was really Severus that had made it possible.
He watched the long white cords being wrapped around their joined hands, and wondered
absently about the different bindings. He didn’t know a lot about it, but hoped that maybe
someday he’d be bound to Draco like that.
After the ceremony, Harry got up and wandered the backyard rather aimlessly, talking with
other guests but not particularly focused on any of the conversations. He spotted Ron and
Hermione again and was walking towards them when he suddenly felt the bracelet on his
wrist turning exceptionally warm.
He pulled his sleeve back quickly, glancing at the flat part of the bracelet. Instead of
Victoria’s name, it now read Dark Mark.
“Fuck,” he cursed quietly, glancing quickly around at all the wedding guests and hoping like
hell he really wouldn’t have to interrupt the party. He switched directions, heading for the
house where his rucksack was. He’d very likely need it shortly and he’d stashed it in Ron’s
room when he arrived. He wasn’t overly surprised when Fred and George materialized on
either side of him.
“My pocket’s warm,” Fred said cheekily.
Harry sniggered. “I find that quite disturbing, as my wrist is warm,” he said.

Fred and George started sniggering along with him. “Where are we going?” George asked.
Harry shrugged. “My rucksack is in Ron’s room,” he said. “From there, I don’t know yet. If
we’re lucky, then we won’t be going anywhere.”
“You don’t think we’ll be that lucky, though, do you?” Fred asked.
Harry simply shook his head, taking the stairs two at a time. He knew Draco had been the one
to warn him and the twins the Dark Mark had started burning. He hadn’t seen Remus, but he
was sure Severus had warned him and Remus would’ve Apparated back to Grimmauld Place,
just in case any information was there to be had.
Harry was getting his things and was remaining at the Burrow in case he needed to gather the
Order. Then, all he could do was wait, and hope that Severus could give him a location and
any other information through the bracelet.
He snatched up his rucksack off Ron’s floor. He stuffed his hand in, hissing as he did so. He
pulled his hand back out with all four snakes coiling and slithering up his arm. He eyed them
contemplatively for a moment.
“You two mind wearing a snake to wherever we might be going?” he asked.
“I reckon we could,” Fred said easily.
George had snatched up Harry’s rucksack and now held up Harry’s old Invisibility Cloak.
“May we?” he asked.
“You should take the new one,” Harry protested.
“Nope, this’ll do,” George said. “Now, give me a bloody snake,” he added, shaking his head
bemusedly.
Harry looked back to the snakes speculatively. He handed Rave to George, then handed Gryff
to Fred. Harry kept Salz and Lissa and the snakes coiled around the three boys’ left biceps,
under their robes, at Harry’s hissed instructions.
“Gryff, Rave, they won’t be able to speak to you, but you remember what I told you, right?”
Harry asked.
“Black robes, white masks,” Rave answered. “Freeze them.”
“Bite them,” Gryff responded.
“Right,” Harry hissed. “You can move to their necks so you can see once we’ve Apparated.”
“Yes, master,” Gryff hissed in return.
“They know what to do,” Harry told Fred and George. “Once you’ve Apparated, they’ll move
to coil around your necks. Just leave them be and they’ll do their job.”
Harry took up the other Invisibility Cloak and tossed his rucksack aside on Ron’s bed. “I
think that’s everything we can do at the moment. Hopefully we won’t even be going
anywhere,” he said.
He felt a nip on his thigh. “Ouch! Damn it, I know we’re probably going to be leaving and
I’m ready,” he snapped irritably. He simply received another nip for his words.
“Fuck!” Harry exclaimed. “Quit doing that! All right, what am I forgetting then?” he asked,
his eyes scanning the room. Picking up his rucksack to check it, he ended up finding the
sheathed dagger at the bottom of the bag.
“Bloody hell,” Harry grumbled. “I still don’t want this fucking thing.” Even as he spoke, he
was strapping it to his belt anyway.
“I didn’t think your boy was here,” Fred said.
“He’s not,” Harry said shortly as he began pacing the floor. He registered Fred and George’s
raised eyebrows, but shook his head to indicate he wasn’t going to explain.
“Um, what are you doing now, Harry?” Fred asked curiously.
“Shouldn’t we be going back downstairs?” George added.
“Not yet,” Harry said, shaking his head. “I’m possibly having a vision right now.” He paused
and blinked at the oddity of his own statement.
“And to think that made sense,” George said, grinning.
Harry smirked wryly, resuming his pacing. He stopped and jerked up his sleeve as he felt the
bracelet heat up again.
Ministry. Atrium. Now!
Harry whirled and went flying down the stairs, Fred and George hot on his heels. “Gather
everyone!” he shouted to them.
He scrambled for the Floo powder, throwing it down and slamming his knees onto the stone
hearth as he shouted out his destination – Scrimgeour’s office. He shouted in frustration when
the office was empty and jerked his head back out of the fire.
He wasn’t registering any of the stunned people in the room, striding to the back door as he
urgently sent a message to Scrimgeour through the bracelet. Ministry Atrium under attack
now! The message sent, he looked up at the anxious, well-dressed crowd in front of him. He
was impressed the twins had gathered everyone so quickly.
Remus suddenly Apparated into the backyard, startling a lot of people. Harry looked at him
sharply, but Remus shook his head. He didn’t know any more than Harry did.
Harry scowled. It meant Severus had likely sent the message as they were already on their
way to the Ministry. “The Ministry is under attack, or will be at any minute,” he said bluntly.
“I’ve just contacted Scrimgeour, but I don’t know where he’s at. Despite it being Saturday,
hopefully there are a lot of Aurors already in the building or we’ll likely be stepping into an
ambush.”
Moody and Shacklebolt quickly started shouting out instructions. Harry was listening intently
along with everyone else when his bracelet warmed again. He jerked up his sleeve. Seeing
the message, he turned sharply on his heel, robes flaring, and ran back into the house. Once
again, he threw down the Floo powder and shouted out his destination.
“We’ve managed to block the lifts and the stairs in time,” Scrimgeour said without preamble
as soon as he saw Harry. “But we’re outnumbered. Anyone trying to Apparate or Floo into
the Atrium will likely be taken down immediately. Shacklebolt there with you?”
Harry felt a hand land heavily on his shoulder. “Yeah, seems he’s listening in,” he said
quickly.
“Send anyone you can through the Auror Floo, as it’s closer, and head for the stairs,”
Scrimgeour ordered.
Harry started to pull his head back but Scrimgeour stopped him. “Potter,” he said sharply.
“They’re killing, not taking prisoners,” he said grimly.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut for a second before nodding tightly and breaking the
connection. Jerking his head out of the fireplace, he locked eyes with Shacklebolt. Kingsley
gave him the same tight nod he’d just given Scrimgeour before they ran outside again.
Shacklebolt started barking orders immediately and, within seconds, Tonks was leading
people back through the house and through the Floo.
Harry’s eyes darted around the yard until they landed on the sight of Mrs. Weasley holding on
tightly to the back of Ron and Ginny’s robes, with Ron holding on tightly to Hermione. Mrs.
Weasley didn’t have enough hands to hold on to the twins as well.
“We’re going with you, mate,” Fred stated firmly, following Harry’s line of sight.
Harry paused, wanting to tell them no. “The Death Eaters are aiming to kill,” he said harshly.
“We heard,” George said. “We’re armed with snakes, cloak and our products.”
“Not to mention our wands,” Fred added, grinning slightly.
“We’re going,” they said in unison.
Harry smirked maliciously, finding the twins’ banter helping to keep him calm, considering
he was rushing into a battle where he didn’t belong. “I’ve got two snakes, a better cloak, your
products, a dagger, my wand, plus a secret weapon,” he said. “Let’s go kick some Death
Eater arse.”
It didn’t make sense to stay and listen to any more of the instructions Shacklebolt was
barking out. Harry would be following his own agenda anyway. He simply nodded to Fleur as
she tossed down the Floo powder for him as he passed from one location to the next while
barely pausing. Only fleetingly did he allow himself to think about how miserably sad it was
to see Fleur in her white wedding dress, now covered in soot.
He ran down the corridors of the Ministry and didn’t stop to cover himself with the cloak
until he reached the stairwell.
“Do you want out now or wait?” he asked quickly. His answer came as the ferret simply
scampered out of his inner pocket to his shoulder. Salz and Lissa were already coiled around
his neck as he ran down the stairs to face whatever was happening.
He faltered at the bottom of the stairs, faced with three dead bodies.
“No!” His mind screamed in protest.
The hard bite to his ear snapped him back into focus. “Fuck, Lucius,” he muttered, even as
his eyes darted wildly about the area. “I wish you’d quit biting me.”
He was moving again before he’d finished speaking, striding directly into the thick of things
under the protection of the cloak.
“Salz, we’re going for the kill,” he hissed grimly. He directed the small Slytherin snake to
transfer to the nearest bulky Death Eater, bite them, then return to Harry. The deadly venom
would take several minutes to actually kill, but without an antidote, the victim would weaken
and die. And only Severus carried the antidote on him on the off-chance that he was bitten by
one of Harry’s snakes.
Where was Severus? Where was Remus? Harry couldn’t find anyone in the mass of bodies,
both duelling and littering the floor. Death Eaters were everywhere, and more seemed to be
spilling into the room steadily. Harry’s mind narrowed in on one fact – eliminate as many of
the Death Eaters as possible – in whatever way possible. They couldn’t let Voldemort’s
followers take over the Ministry.
He continued to hiss orders to Salz. Upon deciding that no one would notice in all the chaos,
he began casting Stupefy from between the folds of his cloak at any unsuspecting Death Eater
within range. And there were a lot of them. The Light side was severely outnumbered as yet
more Death Eaters flooded the area.
Harry’s stunning spells were going unnoticed. Spells were being cast from so many different
directions. Flashes of red and purple and green brightened the area. Spells of all colours
crackled and fizzled as they struck the magic of the cloak.
Protected by the cloak and anonymity, Harry moved freely, his movements fuelled by
adrenaline and cold, determined fury.
When he was bitten on the ear, he simply flicked his eyes to the ferret then followed the
direction that the nose was pointing in. His heart stopped for half a beat, and then he ran. He
ignored the bodies he was jumping over and ignored the spells that crackled against the
cloak.
He barely paused as he registered Scrimgeour’s prone body, hoping fervently that the man
was only stunned. He didn’t recognize the other bodies surrounding the door that he flung
open.
He ducked automatically as a flash of red flew directly at his face. It struck the door as it
slammed closed behind him. Blinded by the flare of light in the dim corridor, he moved
quickly to his left, simply to stay moving instead of leaving himself a still target.
“Who’s there?” a voice grated out harshly.
“It has to be Potter.”
Harry recognized Severus’ voice and his heart beat even faster. He was blinking rapidly,
attempting to focus so he could take in the situation.
“We don’t have time to deal with Potter,” someone shouted impatiently. “We must hurry and
secure the way for our master.”
Harry’s eyes were finally taking in the sight of several dark-robed figures as they turned to
run again. There was no time to think. No time to plan. There was only time to react.
He jerked his hood back. “Stop!” he commanded, halting them.
“Potter,” Bellatrix hissed angrily as the Death Eaters all whirled to face him.
Harry sneered at her but, as he felt the ferret scampering down his back to the floor, his
hissing was literal, ordering Lissa to turn Lucius from white to black so he would be able to
blend into the shadows better.
“You can not stop us now, Potter,” Severus snarled dangerously, jerking the mask off of his
face. That certainly made things easier, Harry thought. Although, staring at Severus now, he
was uncomfortably aware that Severus was again the embodiment of cruel, sadistic bastard
filled with rage.
Harry stood his ground, despite the desperate urge to take a step back. “Watch me,” he said
angrily. Seeing Severus like that brought his own simmering rage boiling to the surface.
“Crucio!”
Without conscious thought, Harry leapt to the side and shouted, “Sectumsempra!” as he
slashed his wand viciously.
The Cruciatus crackled off the edge of the cloak, but Harry’s spell had hit its mark. He didn’t
know who it was, other than it wasn’t Severus. He didn’t feel a bit of remorse as they went
down screaming and clutching desperately at their chest as blood spurted everywhere.
Unfortunately, a second curse landed between the parted folds of the cloak and Harry also
went down screaming as pain flooded his body. The curse was broken, even as he fell,
because of the cloak disrupting the magic. He rolled, rising swiftly to his feet again.
He realized why he’d had time to get to his feet without further attack as he registered
Lucius’ voice. The ferret had slunk through the shadows and positioned himself behind the
Death Eaters before transforming.
“Well, well, well,” Lucius drawled, his voice dripping with disdain. “How fitting that we
should meet again in the Ministry.”
“Lucius!” Bellatrix spat, her voice angry but ringing with disbelief.
“How observant of you,” he drawled.
Still slightly dazed from the curse he’d been hit with, Harry thought it was a rather interesting
observation. Irrelevant to anything about the current situation, he thought Draco had been
right that he would look terrible with black hair.
Shaking his head to clear it of the lingering effects of the curse, he realized that Lucius had
effectively gained all of their attention. Recovered enough to fight, Harry took advantage of
the Death Eaters’ distraction and took another one down.
“Sectumsempra!” he shouted, slashing his wand viciously. Only this time, he was smarter and
he jerked his cloak closely around him again swiftly. He ducked the beam of purple light that
was aimed at his head, a couple other curses fizzling harmlessly over the folds of the cloak.
“Avada Kedavra!”
Even as Harry attempted to leap away from it, he watched in shock as the green flash speared
towards him – and flared into a crackling burst of magic as it struck the cloak.
He registered dimly that Severus, as well as a couple of the other Death Eaters, had shouted
for Bellatrix to stop. Their master had given them orders not to kill Harry Potter.
Harry felt like he was in a tunnel. Everyone had frozen as they watched the Killing Curse
disperse into nothingness. His wide eyes narrowed as they lifted to focus solely on Bellatrix.
It couldn’t have been more than a couple seconds since the curse had been fired at him before
he was raising his wand and firing it at her.
“Avada Kedavra!” he shouted.
His shout was echoed by Lucius and Severus and both Bellatrix and two other Death Eaters
went down. Everything was happening so quickly and Harry didn’t have time to think about
what he’d just done as his wand was suddenly jerked out of his hand by an Expelliarmus.
Reacting solely on instinct, he scrambled to pull the hood up on the cloak so he could
disappear again. He got himself covered, but it was too late as two burly Death Eaters
suddenly slammed into him and he went crashing to the floor, his head banging off the stone.
As they pulled back to jerk roughly at the cloak, Harry fumbled frantically for the dagger. He
pulled it free from his belt and swiped blindly, catching the throat of one of his attackers. The
other released a howl of rage as a meaty fist was driven through Harry’s ribs and another
connected with his face. A spray of blood and then the body landed heavily on him,
unmoving.
Panicked, Harry shoved, only to have the body shoved away for him.
“Are you all right?” Lucius asked hurriedly.
Harry’s eyes darted about wildly, only to see Severus crouched down on the other side of
him.
“It’s over,” Severus said, his voice harsh, yet conveying worry. “At least in this corridor, it’s
over. Are you all right?” he repeated Lucius’ question.
“Yeah,” Harry answered dazedly. He was alive, at least, and that seemed to be a good enough
answer at the moment.
“Go!” Lucius ordered Severus. “You can’t be caught here.”
Severus’ gaze flicked between Harry and Lucius before he nodded curtly. Rising swiftly, he
whirled with a flurry of robes and ran back to the Atrium.
Lucius hauled Harry to his feet. “You have to get up, Harry,” he commanded.
Harry’s vision swam dizzily for a few seconds before he could get his bearings and stand on
his own halfway steadily. “Fucking hell,” he murmured, his eyes taking in the sight of the
dead bodies littering the floor around them. He stared at the two bodies closest to him.
They’d both had their throats slit.
He swallowed heavily. “Did I –”
“Yes, one of them,” Lucius said grimly. “I did the other, as I didn’t dare use a Killing Curse.”
He gripped Harry’s shoulders tightly. “Keep it together, Potter,” he ordered. “We don’t know
if it’s over out there or not.”
Harry nodded before taking a deep breath, instantly regretting it. It wasn’t until he went to
press a hand against his bruised ribs that he realized he was still tightly clutching the now
bloody dagger. He stuffed it back into the sheath on his belt.
“You never know when carrying an extra weapon may prove useful,” Lucius said grimly. He
let go of Harry’s shoulders and stalked over to retrieve Harry’s wand. Returning, he thrust it
into Harry’s hand.
With his wand in his hand again, Harry snapped out of his daze. “We’ve got to go,” he said
hoarsely.
Lucius looked at him searchingly, gave him a swift nod of approval, then transformed back to
his Animagus form. Harry pulled the numbness around him tightly, just as he pulled the cloak
around his body again. He had no time to react to the horror now. He couldn’t resist,
however, one last look at the destruction. In addition to the man he’d killed by slitting his
throat, he’d killed Bellatrix with the Killing Curse and, apparently, he’d killed two with
Sectumsempra. Severus and Lucius had killed several others. Sickening as it was, they’d won
that round.
With the ferret again riding on his shoulder, Harry strode determinedly back to the Atrium.
Slipping back through the door, he was witness to a different chaos from when he’d left. It
took him a few seconds to register that the Death Eaters had technically gone. Severus must
have ordered them to leave when he came back through, taking with him all those who had
still been duelling.
Harry’s eyes raked over the scene before him. Aurors and Order members were binding any
stunned Death Eaters left behind. Ministry workers and others were tending to the wounded.
Harry couldn’t prevent the thought that he was standing in a graveyard and tasted the bile
rising in his throat.
Swallowing hard and ruthlessly ignoring his increasingly nauseated state, he shoved back the
hood of his cloak and began checking the bodies around him for any signs of life. No one
else seemed to have even realized that the Minister had fallen is this far corner. They’d not
had an extra pair of eyes like Harry and they’d all been involved in their own battles.
Harry was only dimly aware that Lucius settled into the inner pocket of his robes again as he
knelt beside Scrimgeour and checked hopefully for a pulse. And didn’t find one. Squeezing
his eyes shut, he turned blindly to the body he knew was lying on his other side. He opened
his eyes, searching for a pulse on the nameless body. And didn’t find one.
Feeling frantic, he crawled to the body slumped beside the door, and gave a shout when he
felt a pulse. “Ennervate!”
As the man’s eyes slowly opened, Harry heard his name shouted. He looked up to see Remus
racing toward him. He didn’t move as Remus dropped down beside him.
“Harry, thank Merlin,” Remus said, pulling Harry tightly to him and ignoring all of the blood
on his face and the fact that Harry’s body wasn’t even visible.
“Remus, that hurts,” Harry whimpered, causing Remus to let go of him abruptly.
“What happened to you?” Remus demanded, looking at Harry searchingly as he pulled the
Invisibility Cloak off of Harry’s body.
“I’ll be all right,” Harry said. He glanced at Scrimgeour’s body. “He’s dead, though,” he
added tonelessly. “He tried to stop them, but they just killed him. She tried killing me, but I
killed her instead.” He knew he wasn’t making things clear and stopped as Remus’ face
turned horror-struck.
Harry glanced at the door. “In there,” he said. “They’re all dead.”
“Are the others all right, Harry?” Remus asked anxiously.
“Yes,” Harry answered quietly, brushing a hand over his pocket and thinking about Severus.
Remus glanced at the door. “We need to find Kingsley,” he said.
Harry stumbled to his feet, some of his spirit flowing back into his body. “You find
Kingsley,” he said. “I’ll be over there.” He nodded with his head to the area in front of the
lifts that was rapidly turning into a temporary medical ward.
Remus started to protest, but he looked at Harry searchingly. Harry wondered fleetingly if he
saw the same thing that Lucius had seen, because whatever it was, Remus finally nodded his
acquiescence.
Harry left Remus to deal with the aftermath of that corridor, needing to get away from the
area. His intention had been to help with the healing but Ron and Hermione found him first.
“Harry!”
He turned in time to hold out a hand to stop Hermione from slamming into him.
“Oh, Harry! What happened?” Hermione exclaimed. “Are you all right?”
Harry hesitated before nodding his head slowly.
“Sit,” Hermione ordered. “I’ll go get Madam Pomfrey.”
He frowned at her, wondering just how horrible he looked. He blinked to see Ron, who
pushed a chair under him, forcing him down as Hermione rushed off again. “Where’d you
two come from?” he asked.
“Mum wouldn’t let us fight,” Ron said. He glanced around the Ministry, his expression
vaguely horrified. He didn’t look like he actually believed what he was seeing. “We’re here
to help with healing. If we can.”
Harry followed his gaze. So many people had been hurt. So many dead. “Where’s Fred and
George?” he asked suddenly, panicked. “Where is everyone?”
“Everyone’s accounted for in the family,” Ron quickly reassured. “You were the last one to
be found. Hermione finally thought to use that bracelet thing you have, but then we saw
you.”
Harry blinked at him, before shaking his head to clear it. He winced as the action caused pain
to lance through his skull. “Is everyone all right?”
Ron shrugged. “Depends on your definition of all right,” he said grimly, eying Harry
critically. “You sure look a right mess. Worse than any of the rest of the family,” he admitted.
“I’ll be fine,” Harry muttered.
Ron didn’t look like he agreed, but he didn’t say anything. Madam Pomfrey came bustling up
with Hermione. She shooed his friends away, ordering them to help with those patients that
they could. They left reluctantly, casting worried gazes at Harry over their shoulders.
Pomfrey proceeded to heal his injuries, quickly and efficiently.
He slipped his robe and shirt off his shoulders so she could heal his ribs, but kept a tight hold
on his robes, not wanting to lose the ferret.
“Wow, I can breathe again,” he said. He hadn’t realized just how badly his ribs had been
injured until she’d cast the spell that eased the pressure. The fact that his chest ached had
seemed fitting under the circumstances and he hadn’t attributed it to his physical injuries.
“I’m sure it helps,” she said dryly. “But your ribs will have a lingering soreness for a day or
so. Not particularly painful, but you’ll know they’re there. More importantly, you have a
concussion.” She looked at him sternly. “I don’t suppose there’s any point in attempting to
order you to rest for a couple of days.”
Harry shrugged, glancing around them. “I doubt I’ll have time to rest,” he said sourly.
She sighed heavily, and he could read the understanding on her face that warred with her
medical instincts.
“Mr. Potter, there is a reason that I often put you to sleep after you’ve suffered a serious
injury – particularly after a serious injury to the brain,” she said. “Potions and spells will only
go so far and your body needs rest for them to work properly.”
“What happens if I don’t rest?” Harry asked nervously.
“You will still heal, but you’ll suffer the lingering symptoms longer,” she explained. “With a
concussion, that means headaches, trouble concentrating, being extra tired, easily irritated.”
Harry stared at her incredulously for a moment before he let out a bark of laughter, startling
the poor woman.
“With all due respect, Madam Pomfrey, I don’t see how that’s different from normal for me,”
he said. He gave her a rueful half-smile. “I appear to be suffering from a permanent brain
injury.”
She gave him a stern glare, not amused.
“All right,” he said quickly, before she could lecture him. “As soon as things are under
control, I’ll go home and rest.”
“See that you do,” she said. Her expression softened. “I know that you are needed, but you
need to take care of yourself first if you wish to continue helping everyone else.”
Her brisk demeanour was back almost instantly. “I must help the other Healers,” she said.
Harry nodded and she was gone. He watched her progress through the crowd for a moment,
until Shacklebolt stepped into his line of sight, heading directly for him now that Madam
Pomfrey was done with him.
He quickly shrugged back into his shirt and robes, fastening them as Shacklebolt directed
him to an upstairs office.
“Why’d you bring me here, Shacklebolt?” Harry asked warily. He had no idea what Remus
had told him.
“I didn’t bring you here to question you, Harry. Not directly, anyway,” Shacklebolt said
wearily. “And for Merlin’s sake, call me Kingsley. I certainly don’t need to hear you standing
on ceremony and addressing me as Minister.”
“You’re the Minister now?” Harry asked, startled by that information.
“Yes,” Kingsley said, grimacing. “As the Head Auror, the position falls to me in a situation
such as this. An official election will be held at a later date, but for now . . . I’m in charge of
this bloody place.”
“I’m sorry,” Harry murmured. He was sorry Scrimgeour was dead. He was sorry Kingsley
had to take up a position he clearly didn’t want. He was sorry for everything that had
happened.
Kingsley exhaled heavily. “There are thirty people dead on our side,” he said abruptly.
“Who?” Harry asked, his voice barely audible, but Kingsley heard him.
Kingsley pressed his hands against his eyes as if to block out the sight of the dead. “I don’t
believe there was anyone that you were close to personally,” he said. “Perhaps Scrimgeour
was actually the one you knew best.”
His hands fell away and his piercing gaze landed on Harry. “I will mourn the loss of every
one of them, but at the same time, I am eternally thankful that we didn’t lose many more.
We’ve managed to save the Ministry itself from being taken over by You Know Who’s
forces.”
Harry didn’t know how to feel about that, but wasn’t allowed time to dwell on it as Kingsley
continued.
“Harry, in an official capacity, I brought you up here because I want to offer you whatever
Ministry cooperation I can give you,” he said.
“And in an unofficial capacity?” Harry asked suspiciously.
Kingsley actually smiled a little. “Unofficially, I’m offering you the same cooperation,
whether it follows usual Ministry procedure or not,” he said.
Harry’s eyes widened, but then he nodded gratefully.
“This is surely not the best time to ask you,” Kingsley said, “but I wish to know if you have
any ideas about what will happen now.”
Harry dropped his head, jamming the heels of his hands into his temples. It was all too much
to handle, but he needed to pull his scrambled thoughts into some kind of order.
“I don’t know what Voldemort has planned next,” he admitted. “I’m surprised he even went
for the Ministry. If I had expected anything, I had expected him to go for Hogsmeade again,
as he desperately wants to take over Hogwarts.”
He glanced up at Kingsley, but the man simply gazed back at him expectantly.
“I’m close,” Harry said quietly. “Very soon I’ll be able to confront him. I’m going to kill the
bastard,” he said with cold confidence.
Kingsley’s eyes narrowed speculatively. “You killed today,” he stated evenly. “In a corridor
in which you were alone with them,” he pointed out.
Harry cursed inwardly. “Yes,” he said, his tone carefully neutral. “Half of Voldemort’s inner
circle of followers was killed today.”
“Remus informed me that there were dead Death Eaters in that corridor and suggested –
ordered – that I speak with you before discussing it with anyone else,” Kingsley said. “To be
honest, considering that he is not even a Ministry employee, he is currently handling that
situation in my stead.”
He shook his head. “I’m honestly not trying to question you. Or rather, I’m not trying to
question your actions.” He paused. “Harry, is Severus helping you?” he asked.
Harry looked at him sharply. “What kind of question is that?” he asked.
“I find it to be a very valid question,” Kingsley said. “Knowing what little I do about what
happened in that corridor – and I know more than most – I find it suspicious that Severus
wasn’t with them and that he left shortly after those events, ordering the rest to leave with
him.”
“While I don’t wish to question your actions, I need to know if I should be officially placing
myself in that corridor with you,” he said.
Harry ground the heels of his hands harder into his temples, not wanting to deal with this. “I
reckon you need to place two people with me in the official reports,” he muttered, answering
the question indirectly.
“Two?” Kingsley asked in surprise.
“Yeah. Remus’ll volunteer,” Harry said. “I can’t afford for people to know much about what
happened there today. Not yet, anyway.”
“Was Severus helping you today?” Kingsley asked. “I’d really like to think he was. I’d also
prefer to think that there were extenuating circumstances to the events at Hogwarts.”
Harry stared at him for long seconds, wondering how closely Kingsley had worked with
Severus over the years. Severus really did seem to have more support than he realized. Not
everyone was so quick to judge him, despite the damning evidence. Kingsley had been the
one covering the “search” for Sirius. Maybe he’d spent so much time dealing with Sirius’
case that he was more willing to recognize that appearances could sometimes be deceiving.
Kingsley appeared to only need word from Harry that Severus was still fighting for the right
side.
Harry dropped his gaze to the floor, knowing that by remaining silent he was practically
admitting the truth, but his brain seemed to have reached its limit for coherent, rational
thinking – let alone thinking up more lies and half-truths. He couldn’t think clearly enough to
decide whether or not he should be telling Kingsley the truth.
“Harry? Are you all right?” Kingsley asked in concern.
Harry shook his head, but answered “yes” anyway. “I’ll be all right,” he said. “I just don’t
think I’m feeling up to this conversation at the moment. I know it’s important and I really do
appreciate the support. I just –” He cut himself off, shaking his head again.
Kingsley gazed at him sadly. “Perhaps I’m making the opposite mistake of those who treat
you as a child,” he said. “I have forgotten that you are not a trained Auror, hardened to these
types of situations. Not that any of us are truly prepared for a day like today.”
“I’m fine,” Harry said shortly. Although, for once, he knew perfectly well that he wasn’t fine.
He wasn’t fine at all. He stood up abruptly. He needed to get out of there. He very nearly
screamed in frustration when the bloody ferret scampered from his pocket and blocked his
path. The only thing that stopped him was the fact that he had to save the bloody ferret from
imminent hexing.
Kingsley was Head Auror for a reason and his wand was levelled almost instantly.
“No!” Harry shouted, stepping in front of the ferret.
“Harry, I don’t think that’s a normal ferret,” Kingsley said sharply.
“I know it’s not normal,” Harry ground out, scowling. He whirled to glare down at the ferret.
“It’s a ferret that’s going to get his bloody arse bounced back to a fucking Azkaban cell
because he couldn’t stay in my fucking pocket where he belonged.”
“Harry, get out of the way,” Kingsley ordered coldly.
“No!” Harry shouted. “He’s mine!” He shook his head in confusion. “Well, he’s not mine, as
he’s not a pet, but he’s with me.”
He was cursing profusely as the bloody ferret transformed back into Lucius. “Damn it,
Lucius! How am I supposed to explain this? You all bitch at me for the stunts I pull and then
you do shite like this. I can’t take any more today!”
Lucius ignored him for a moment, gazing over his head at Kingsley. “Allow me to calm
Harry down first, and then I will explain,” he said evenly.
“I don’t need calmed down!” Harry shouted. “I needed to fucking get out of here. If you’d
stayed in my bloody pocket, we probably could’ve been home by now.”
“You would not have made it through the throng downstairs, particularly as Lupin is
currently in possession of your cloak,” Lucius said. “The others are unavailable at the
moment and I’m afraid you are stuck with only myself for the time being.”
“But I need --!” He cut himself off. Lucius was already one explanation to deal with. There
was no point in adding the others. His unwillingness to talk about Severus was what had sent
him fleeing in the first place. He squeezed his eyes shut, knowing he was on the verge of
falling apart.
Lucius gripped his shoulders and Harry lashed out, railing his fists against Lucius’ chest. “I
don’t want you!” he screamed, uncaring anymore. “I want to go home! I want Draco!”
“I promise you, Draco will be there for you later,” Lucius said in a low, soothing tone. He
ignored Harry’s fists and simply gripped his shoulders tighter. “But until Lupin is done, and
we can get you out of here safely, you’re going to stay here with me.”
Lucius continued to speak softly. “Harry, I understand what you’re feeling,” he said.
“You don’t!” Harry screamed.
“You’re feeling that gut wrenching realization that you’ve taken another’s life,” Lucius said.
“Oh gods,” Harry choked out. His hands fisted in Lucius’ robes instead of pounding against
his chest. “I’m a murderer.”
He dropped his forehead against Lucius’ chest, attempting to hold himself together by sheer
force of will.
“I have been with you the entire time and I do not remember you killing innocents for the fun
of it,” Lucius said calmly.
“I wouldn’t,” Harry mumbled, unable to force any more words past the lump lodged in his
throat.
“Ah, so perhaps you were the young man who was defending his life as well as defending the
Ministry,” Lucius suggested. “Not to mention serving justice on those that have wronged so
many, including yourself.”
Harry swallowed heavily, having no answer to that, even if he felt like he could speak.
“Minister,” Lucius addressed Kingsley formally. “May I have your permission to transfigure
these chairs?”
“Harry?” Kingsley questioned. That one word, Harry’s name, was loaded with many
questions and Harry answered them all with a simple nod, his face still buried in Lucius’
robes.
Lucius proceeded to calmly transfigure the chairs into a couch before seating himself and
pulling Harry down with him. Harry had no defences left and curled into his side, craving the
warmth. Lucius was the closest he could get to Draco at the moment and he would take it.
Silence fell over the room until Harry finally found his voice. He was extremely aware of the
two men sizing each other up and the tension in the air. “Lucius, why are we here?” he asked
quietly. “Because it’s not for my sake. You had to have had a better reason for revealing
yourself – particularly to the new Minister.”
Lucius unceremoniously pulled Harry onto his lap. Harry felt all of five years old, and part of
him wanted to protest the indignity of sitting on the man’s lap. But the larger part of him
desperately craved the reassurance, and the warm body, so he curled up and rested his head
on Lucius’ shoulder anyway.
He felt more than heard Lucius’ sigh. “Harry, I am aware that I am not the one you wish to
receive comfort from right now. But I am not foolish enough to bring about the wrath of the
others by not offering it when I know that you sorely need it,” he said.
“Why couldn’t we have just gone home?” Harry asked again, aware that he was also
sounding like a bloody five-year-old.
“Because as much as you need to go home, I am aware enough of your habits to know that
you will not rest long and your upcoming confrontation with the Dark Lord will be in the
very near future. It is necessary to lay down some groundwork,” Lucius answered quietly.
“These are not ideal circumstances, but this opportunity has presented itself so that I can
discuss possible options with Mr. Shacklebolt. We also need to give him an accurate picture
of exactly what happened in that corridor,” he said. “Unfortunately, your presence is
required.”
“So Kingsley doesn’t send you back to Azkaban,” Harry said wearily in understanding.
“Harry,” Kingsley said his name, drawing his attention. “It would appear that Mr. Malfoy is
an ally, but I will need to subject him to Veritaserum to verify that before I can discuss
anything.”
“It’s not necessary,” Harry said dismissively, although still weary. “Severus already dosed
him and asked him every bloody question possible.”
Harry caught Kingsley’s growing smile from the corner of his eye and turned his head so he
could look at him fully. “Did he now?” Kingsley asked.
Harry found it within to smile a little. “Yeah, he did,” he answered. “Severus isn’t overly
fond of my habit of trusting on gut instinct.”
Kingsley chuckled. “I’m sure he isn’t,” he said.
Harry’s smile slipped away again. “Kingsley, I know all of this is really strange but, yes, I
have all of the Malfoys helping me, along with Severus,” he said. “Without Severus, we
would have lost the Ministry and many more lives today. And without both him and Lucius
helping me in that corridor earlier, we would’ve likely still been in serious danger of losing.”
He paused for a moment, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. “At that first Order meeting,
none of my suggested battle plans were actually mine. They all came from Severus. I simply
presented them because he couldn’t do it personally.”
He sighed heavily. “Lucius is right. I have him and Severus on one side working on battle
plans and you and Moody on the other. If the two of you can work together, it would be far
more efficient for the final confrontation. You both know far more than me about how to plan
these types of things.”
He waited until he finally received a slow nod from Kingsley before closing his eyes and
resting his head against Lucius’ shoulder again. He listened quietly as Lucius first began to
give Kingsley a detailed report of what exactly had happened in the corridor. The tears finally
came and he wept silently into Lucius’ robes. The man gave no indication of noticing other
than to tighten his arms around Harry, providing him with both comfort and a sense of
privacy simply by his lack of acknowledgment.
Harry fell asleep, emotionally exhausted and the concussion contributing to his weariness. He
remained unaware of Lucius sending a message to those back at the house and a message to
Remus. He was unaware of Lucius quietly refusing to hand him over to Remus when he
arrived, insisting that he would only hand him over to Draco. He was unaware of the
continued discussion of battle strategies between the three men. He remained blessedly
unaware of anything until he was shifted so that Lucius could stand before picking him up
again after a lightening spell had been cast on him.
“What’s going on?” Harry mumbled sleepily.
“Shhh,” Lucius murmured soothingly. “We’re just taking you home.”
Harry blearily focused and realized Remus was there, too. “Remus?”
“Yes, Harry,” Remus said, brushing Harry’s hair away from his face. “We’re taking you home
to Draco now.”
“Good,” Harry mumbled, resting against Lucius again, not realizing he’d been calling for
Draco in his sleep.
Remus produced Harry’s cloak and wrapped it securely around Lucius and Harry before
leading the way out of the Ministry. Even the jolt of Apparition wasn’t enough to revive
Harry to any sense of coherency. He was dozing again as they entered Grimmauld Place.
“Harry!” Draco exclaimed. On the heels of that, “Father?” he questioned in astonishment.
Harry lifted his head at the sound of Draco’s voice. “’Lo, love,” he said without thought. He
smiled faintly when Draco managed to look a combination of relieved, happy, concerned and
horribly confused. It had to appear incredibly odd for Harry to be arriving in Lucius’ arms,
but Harry couldn’t bring himself to feel anything other than relieved at being home again.
“Lucius?” Narcissa questioned, her voice filled with concern.

“Later,” Lucius ordered firmly, striding towards the stairs.
“We will explain once Harry is resting,” Remus said quietly.
With a sense of déjà vu, Harry blindly followed along as Draco was ordered to help him clean
up in the shower. He was thankful when Draco also followed his father’s orders and didn’t
question him. He felt numb and wanted to stay that way. He crawled into bed, drank the
proffered vial of Dreamless Sleep without argument, and gratefully slipped into the darkness
of slumber.
*****
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Notes

Chapter Forty-One
Harry slammed into consciousness with a scream in his throat. He thrashed wildly, attempting
to free himself from whoever had captured him.
“Harry! Please stop!” Draco pleaded in his ear.
Harry stopped, but his chest was heaving and his eyes were darting about wildly, unfocused.
“Draco?”
“Yes, it’s me,” Draco said in relief, his grip tightening around Harry rather than releasing
him.
“Where’s Victoria?” Harry asked anxiously.
“Victoria’s fine,” Draco reassured him, but he sounded confused with the fact that Harry was
asking about her. “She’s asleep in the nursery.”
“Severus!” Harry shouted when his eyes finally focused on the man sitting on the edge of the
bed.
“Do not shout,” Severus said, wincing in pain.

“Oh gods, you’ve got to go to Madam Pomfrey,” Harry said. He realized that Remus was
supporting Severus’ back, essentially keeping him upright. “Remus, he needs help,” he said,
his voice rising again.
“Potter!” Severus said commandingly. “Calm yourself. Now!”
“But I saw . . . I saw . . . oh gods,” Harry moaned miserably. He clapped a hand over his
mouth, knowing he was going to be sick. Draco released him and followed as Harry
scrambled to the loo.
He couldn’t decide if he was mortified or grateful that Draco was there, but his thoughts were
so twisted that he didn’t dwell on it. He had much bigger things to worry about, if he could
only get his stomach to stay in place.
“Shhh, Harry,” Draco said soothingly, rubbing his back.
Harry changed his mind and decided he was extremely grateful that Draco was there. He fell
back against him, shaking uncontrollably. Draco’s arms were holding him tightly and
Narcissa was there to help. She washed his face with a wet flannel, murmuring soothingly.
Harry wondered if it was simply a Malfoy trait, being able to talk in that tone that helped
calm him.
“You need to help Severus,” Harry protested, beginning to panic again and trying to get to his
feet. Draco pulled him back, not allowing him to go anywhere.
“Lucius and Remus are seeing to his injuries now that you are awake,” Narcissa said calmly.
“I couldn’t wake you up, Harry,” Draco explained, lingering worry evident in his voice. “No
one could. Not until Severus got here.”
That explained the terrible taste of potion in his mouth when he’d first woke up. “I was
trapped,” Harry moaned pitifully.
“Yes, Severus was rather forceful when he informed us of that fact,” Narcissa said, wincing a
little. “I’m very sorry, Harry. We should never have subjected you to Dreamless Sleep.”
Lucius stepped into the bathroom, drawing all of their attention. “I’ve been summarily
ordered to bring you these potions, Harry,” he said drolly. “Severus is under the impression
that he is in charge, despite his current condition.”
Harry struggled to get up again, not seeing the humour in the situation. “Is he all right? If he’s
giving orders, then it means he’ll be okay, right?” he asked anxiously.
“He will be perfectly fine, Harry,” Lucius assured him. “He is a little worse for wear at the
moment, but his snarkiness has not been damaged in the slightest.”
“Voldemort almost killed him,” Harry muttered, bowing his head. “I’m surprised he didn’t
curse Severus insane.”
“You watched him being tortured, didn’t you?” Narcissa asked, her tone indicating that she
was already fairly certain of the answer.
“Voldemort’s furious,” Harry said, not answering the question directly. “He’s angry about a
lot of things.” His eyes widened and he was once again trying to scramble away from Draco.
“Harry,” Draco said sharply. “I’m not letting you go anywhere.”
Harry whipped his head up to stare at Lucius pleadingly. “Do they know what I did?” he
asked.
Lucius frowned for a moment before he seemed to realize what Harry was referring to. “Yes,
they know you killed Bellatrix,” he said evenly.
Harry darted his eyes about wildly, searching for a means of escape. “Harry, calm down,”
Draco ordered. “It’s all right. It wasn’t your fault.”
Harry barely heard him. It was hard to catch his breath and his eyes were turning everything
into a wash of blurred colours that was rapidly fading into darkness. He was falling . . .
The next thing Harry was aware of, he was flat on his back in bed, blinking up at the blue
canopy. He remembered everything, though.
“Harry, are you all right?” Draco asked worriedly, stroking his hair away from his face.
“I’m spectacular,” Harry said sarcastically.
“You’ve given us all quite a scare tonight,” Narcissa said worriedly, placing a cool flannel
across his forehead.
“Yeah, well, I’m not exactly having a good day,” Harry muttered angrily. He shoved the cloth
away and sat up. “I’ve killed your sister today. I killed a few other people as well, but I don’t
even know who they were. I’ve been chatting it up with Voldemort,” he spat in disgust.
“Then, to top everything off, I’ve fucking fallen apart like a bloody five-year-old – several
times over the last few hours.”
He glared at Narcissa, who’d unfortunately been the last to speak to him. “Yeah, I’ve bloody
scared myself as well,” he retorted.
Inconceivably to Harry, she smiled at him. “I believe you are feeling better,” she said in
relief.
“It’s good to have you back, Harry,” Draco drawled, smirking at him.
“Merlin,” Harry muttered, wondering at their attitudes. “And I thought I was the one going
mad.”
“Maybe your madness is rubbing off on us,” Draco suggested, smirk still firmly in place.
“Piss off,” Harry retorted.

Draco ignored him and leaned in for a kiss. Harry kissed him back, feeling some of the
tension melt away. Breaking the kiss, he leaned his forehead against Draco’s. “Can anyone
tell me what the bloody hell is going on?” he asked quietly.
“That would depend on whether you can stop pawing my son long enough to hear the
explanations,” Lucius drawled sardonically.
Harry’s eyes crinkled as he stared into Draco’s amused grey eyes at close range. “Yeah,
Potter,” Draco said. “Quit pawing me.”
“Ha, your loss,” Harry declared, pulling away and turning around. He laughed as Draco
jerked him back against his chest and wrapped his arms around him. Harry threaded his
fingers with Draco’s as he turned his gaze expectantly on Lucius and Narcissa.
They were sitting in chairs beside the bed and Narcissa’s hand was resting on Lucius’ arm.
“They are good for each other, Lucius,” she said, smiling softly.
“I am aware of that,” Lucius said, staring at Harry contemplatively. “I am more impressed

with Harry’s resiliency at the moment.”
“I’m not resilient,” Harry muttered. “I’m just good at denial. If I don’t think about everything
that happened, maybe it’ll all just go away or turn out to be a bad dream or something.”
He shuddered as his words reminded him of the “bad dream” he’d been stuck in. “I need to
talk to Severus if he’s feeling better,” he added.
“Remus is still tending to him, but I do believe Severus wishes to speak with you as well
before he rests,” Lucius acknowledged. He paused. “Harry, do you understand why your
reactions are so different now from what they were earlier?”
Harry shrugged uncomfortably. “I fell apart earlier. I panicked. I don’t like feeling that way,”
he said, his irritation with himself coming through in his voice.
Lucius shook his head in exasperation. “You had a concussion and you were dealing with a
severe shock,” he said. “Your confusion, your extreme drowsiness at the Ministry, your
irrational behaviour – these are all symptoms of the punishment you have endured. With a
little bit of time, rest and the help of a few potions, your body has now mostly recovered.
Although, you could certainly do with some more rest,” he added pointedly. “It’s only ten
o’clock and you could use a full night’s sleep without interruption.”
“I’d be sleeping if Voldemort wasn’t such a sadistic bastard,” Harry retorted irritably.
“Indeed,” Lucius drawled.
Harry frowned in confusion, not understanding why Lucius seemed pleased with his attitude.
“Why does everyone seem happy that I’m in a bad mood?” he asked plaintively. “I especially
don’t understand why Narcissa and Draco aren’t angry with me.”
Draco leaned his head against Harry’s. “I’m not angry with you,” he said softly. “It was a bit
of a shock when Father first told me what happened, but I’m mainly just worried about how
you’re going to deal with this.”
“Harry, my sister was insane,” Narcissa said sadly. “I mourned the loss of the sister I loved
long ago. I can not say that I am happy to learn of her death, but I am . . . relieved it is over.
She can not hurt herself or others any longer. The loss would have been felt far deeper if she
had succeeded in killing you.”
Harry bowed his head as Draco squeezed him tightly until it hurt. “Draco, my ribs are sore,”
he murmured in protest.
“The bitch deserved to die,” Draco muttered angrily, but he relaxed his hold.
“Harry, do you regret killing her?” Lucius asked abruptly.
“No,” Harry admitted reluctantly. “I’m shocked that I actually did it and I was worried that
Draco and Narcissa would hate me for killing someone who was family . . . but I don’t regret
it.”
“Are you also worried about becoming a Dark wizard?” Lucius asked.
Harry looked up at him, wondering if Lucius thought that was an actual possibility, but he
was faced with an expressionless mask.
“No, not really,” he answered quietly. “I reckon I have the potential in me, literally, because
of Voldemort’s magic, but I’ll never be a Dark wizard. I killed to save lives, not end them.”
He shook his head in confusion. “That didn’t come out right.”
Lucius smirked. “No, it didn’t, but I am aware of what you were attempting to say. And yes, I
believe you are correct,” he said.
His gaze grew solemn again. “Harry, this day will likely haunt you in some fashion or
another for the rest of your life. If and when it threatens to overwhelm you, I want you to
remember what you just said. You killed to save lives. Trust in the fact that you did what was
best for everyone, regardless of how difficult a task it was for you personally.”
They all looked up as the door opened and Severus and Remus returned. Harry looked
Severus over closely as he sat down gingerly at the end of the bed. Aside from the fact that he
looked horribly exhausted, he seemed to be doing all right.
“Can I presume from your quiet staring that you are feeling calmer now?” Severus asked,
sounding far more weary than snide.
“Um, yeah,” Harry said. “Lucius says that physically I’m mostly recovered from the shock
and everything. I reckon whatever potions you ordered him to dump down my throat worked,
and I’m attempting to ignore everything mentally so I don’t go insane.”
Severus’ lips quirked into a tired smirk. “You are no more ignoring everything than I am,” he
said. “I would say the cheeky little brat has returned.”
“Ah,” Harry said in sudden understanding. “That’s why everyone’s so happy with my bad
mood – because it’s normal,” he said. “It’s fantastic that everyone thinks so highly of me,” he
added sarcastically.
He crossed his arms and pouted when all he received were smirks and smiles instead of
anyone denying it.
“This would be your resiliency that I was referring to,” Lucius said dryly. “Better to have you
in a bad mood and pouting rather than buckling under the extreme pressure that is becoming
even greater as time passes.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t have the luxury of buckling under the pressure now,” Harry said grimly,
focusing his attention on Severus again.
Severus tilted his head in acknowledgement. “You were witness to all of it,” he stated more
than asked.
Harry’s hands moved of their own accord to his temples, but Draco caught them with his
own, lacing their fingers together again. Harry stared at their hands for a few seconds as he
tried to figure out where to begin.
“I reckon the combination of the concussion, the Dreamless Sleep, and my state of mind
wasn’t a good one,” he said flatly. “Add Voldemort’s extreme fury and I was sucked down the
link almost immediately. He was so furious that he didn’t even notice that I was there for a
long time. He hasn’t been able to reach me for so long that he wasn’t expecting it and he was
rather blind to everything. It’s certainly not the first time I had access to his mind without him
knowing it.”
He shook his head. “No, I didn’t witness all of it. We were at the Ministry for . . . well, I don’t
know how long we were there, but it was long enough for Voldemort to inflict most of his
punishments on his followers. Rather stupid on his part because they’re all going to need a
couple of days to recover before they can start following his orders.”
“Indeed,” Severus said dryly. “He is aware of that but does not care.”
Harry nodded absently. “The punishments were deserving, in his opinion. I was there to see,”
he swallowed heavily, “to see him torture you. I thought I was going to kill you, and there
was nothing I could do about it.”
“You thought you were going to kill me?” Severus asked, catching the use of the pronoun.
“When I have visions, I see everything from his perspective,” Harry explained. “Or
Nagini’s,” he added.
“Arthur,” Severus murmured, indicating his understanding.
“Yeah, that’s how I knew,” Harry answered flatly. “I felt like I was the one who attacked Mr.
Weasley. And tonight . . .” He didn’t finish, but everyone understood Harry felt like he’d
been the one to punish Severus.
The silence was heavy in the air, but no one interrupted as Harry’s voice dropped to a
whisper. “Somehow – and I don’t really understand how, considering I was already in his
mind – I was able to still put up most of my Occlumency shields. You were already enduring
so much. I knew you’d be absolutely furious if I allowed Voldemort to access my mind. And
I knew if he did –”
“I’d be dead,” Severus finished flatly.
Harry was shaking and gave him a jerky nod. “Yeah,” he said miserably. “He finally left you
alone for a little while to recover enough that he could give you your orders. While he waited,
he dismissed all of the others finally, after ordering them to be back in a week’s time. That’s
when he’d decided you’d recovered enough; he gave you your orders.”
He lifted his eyes to meet Severus’ steady gaze.
“We will discuss my orders and the plans we need to make later,” Severus said calmly. “I
need to know when exactly he discovered your presence.”
“He sent you to retrieve some potions before he would dismiss you,” Harry said. “He was
starting to finally calm down, and I knew he’d likely discover me. I couldn’t let him learn
that I’d heard his orders to you, and I couldn’t seem to leave on my own, so I, uh, kind of
provoked him,” he said, wincing.
“You deliberately let him know you were in his mind?” Severus questioned.
“I didn’t know what else to do,” Harry said defensively. “I was stuck and he was going to
know I was there. I couldn’t let him know I’d heard his plans.”
“What did you do?” Severus ground out.
“I don’t know!” Harry exclaimed. “I just kind of poked him or something. Something that
said ‘Hey, I’m suddenly here in your fucking mind’. Whatever I did, it worked and he didn’t
realize I’d already been there for a long time.”
Harry was on the receiving end of one of Severus’ death glares and didn’t appreciate it.
“Potter, you are a foolish child,” Severus said angrily. “Explain to me exactly what
happened.”
“What happened is that I had Voldemort prodding at my bloody mind and I gave him the
fucking prophecy,” Harry said coldly. “He was ecstatic at that discovery and didn’t probe any
deeper. He proceeded to replay every fucking one of my worst nightmares that he knows
about until you came back and pulled me out of it.”
“You gave him the prophecy?” Severus said dangerously.
“Yes,” Harry said, glaring at him. “He’s quite happy knowing that he can actually kill me and
he has no reason to hold back. He finds Dumbledore’s interpretation of the prophecy to be
extremely humorous. He cackled with glee as he replayed Dumbledore’s death for me. He
gloried in showing me how he plans to torture me before he kills me.”
“And you felt it wise to give him this information,” Severus spat.
“Fuck you,” Harry shouted furiously. “I know my life is on the line by giving him that
information. Hell, I know everyone’s lives are on the line by giving him that information. The
important thing is that I didn’t let him know that his life is fucking on the line. He has no
bloody clue how close he is to being vanquished forever.”
He heaved in an angry breath. “I didn’t really give that much away because everyone in the
bloody Wizarding world already knows that he’s after me. I kept Victoria safe. I didn’t give
away Draco or you or anyone else. I didn’t give away what I’ve been doing. The only thing
that’s happened is that my bluff has been called and I’m back where I was a week ago. I’m
back to him believing that I have no power over him.”
His eyes narrowed dangerously. “And that’s his fucking mistake,” he said. “Call me a foolish,
arrogant child all you wish, but I’m going to kill that fucking bastard in a week.”
Severus’ face slowly morphed from one of extreme fury to one of intense satisfaction. He
rose to his feet and stood staring down at Harry for a minute. “Sleep,” he finally ordered.
“You will need a clear head for all the planning we will be doing tomorrow.”
With that, he swept from the room, taking Remus, Narcissa and Lucius with him. Harry was
left staring blankly at the closed door. They hadn’t discussed Voldemort’s plans or anything
else he’d learned while in Voldemort’s mind. It wasn’t like Severus to wait for the next day,
but then he remembered what he’d witnessed. Severus needed sleep even more than he did.
“Fucking hell, Harry,” Draco breathed. “And people think I’m the one who’s dangerous.”
Harry slowly turned around until he was kneeling on the bed in front of Draco, completely
unaware of the image he presented. His expression was hard and his eyes were glittering with
determination. His bare chest was still heaving from his angry rant. All he saw was Draco’s
eyes widening and his tongue flicking out to lick his lips.
Harry’s eyes narrowed. “You think I’m dangerous?” he asked in a low voice.
“I know you’re dangerous,” Draco retorted. He sent Harry a sly smirk. “And I think you need
to divert some of that energy you’ve got built up inside you right now.”
Harry groaned, his anger transforming swiftly into arousal. “Draco, I don’t know that this is
really a good time,” he said. His protest sounded weak to his own ears, and Draco clearly
didn’t buy it.
Draco’s eyelids drifted down and his gaze turned sultry. “I think it’s the perfect time for you
to fuck me hard,” he said seductively.
There was no way in hell Harry could resist the blatant invitation. He shoved Draco onto his
back, landing on top of him. His lingering anger was evident in the bruising kiss as he
ravished Draco’s mouth hungrily, but Draco didn’t seem to mind. Draco simply opened his
mouth wider, his tongue meeting Harry’s halfway.
Harry couldn’t get enough of him and latched onto the pale expanse of Draco’s neck, sucking
greedily. Draco’s moans were sending him spiralling in a swirl of pleasure. He was hard and
aching and desperately needy, so he took what Draco was freely offering. He stripped off
their pyjama bottoms without fanfare before settling himself firmly against Draco again.
There was no tenderness, no finesse, as his hands glided over every inch of Draco’s skin that
he could reach. He squeezed Draco’s biceps, feeling the strength of the hard muscles as his
teeth nipped at the juncture between Draco’s neck and shoulder.
“Harry,” Draco pleaded encouragingly as he sought more friction with his hips.
“Stop moving,” Harry hissed, his hands gliding down to land on Draco’s hips and pinning
them firmly to the bed. He licked a wet path up Draco’s hard length.
“Fuck,” Draco swore reverently.
“That’s exactly what I’m going to do to you,” Harry informed him. He lapped up the leaking
pre-come, dipping his tongue into the slit, before pulling back to Accio the lube.
Draco groaned in frustration, but his eyes were focused on Harry savouring Draco’s taste as
he fumbled to open the small jar.
“Lift your legs,” Harry ordered, his fingers dipping into the jar. He was the one groaning as
Draco complied, spreading his legs and pulling them back towards his chest. He was spread
open for Harry and Harry was momentarily transfixed by the sight. Draco’s hard cock flushed
an angry red jutting almost parallel to his stomach, his balls drawn up tightly into the golden
curls, his hole glimpsed between his spread arse cheeks.
“Oh gods, Draco,” Harry moaned. “You’re so unbelievably hot.”
“Just fucking touch me already,” Draco said impatiently, his voice breathy and needy.
Harry snapped back into action, his slicked fingers quickly probing at Draco’s hole. His other
hand smoothed up Draco’s pale thigh reverently, as he attempted to rein in some sense of
control. He was damned if he was going to hurt Draco, but as he pushed his fingers past that
tight ring of muscle to feel the tight heat, he had to fight against the urge to shove his needy
cock in instead.
Draco’s back arched and he cried out in shocked bliss as Harry found his sweet spot. Harry
watched Draco’s face as he quickly added a third finger. His face was contorted into a mask
of extreme pleasure and Harry couldn’t hold back any longer. He didn’t think Draco was
going to last much longer and he was determined to be buried inside him before either of
them came. He removed his fingers and tried to ignore Draco’s mewling cry of
disappointment as he hurriedly slathered his cock with the lube.
He positioned himself and with the head of his cock resting against Draco’s hole, he took a
deep breath before pushing forward. Instant heat and his cock was being squeezed. He was
breathing through his nose in short, sharp bursts of air.
“Draco, I can’t –”
Draco responded by pushing back hard against him, effectively driving Harry into him and
causing both of them to cry out. Harry had no idea how he managed not to come at the instant
Draco’s arse clamped down on his cock. With his arms hooked under Draco’s knees, his
hands found purchase in Draco’s inner thighs and he held on tightly.
Breathe, breathe, breathe. Over and over again he reminded himself to breathe as Draco
slowly relaxed. He gradually realized his eyes were squeezed tightly shut and he slowly
opened them. Draco’s half-lidded eyes were gazing back at Harry, watchful and expectant.
“I’m going to fuck you now,” Harry said, surprising himself that his voice was amazingly
steady.
Draco simply nodded.
Harry pulled out a short ways before jabbing forward again, sending a wave of heat coursing
through his groin. The shocks of pleasure didn’t have a chance to disperse into something
milder as Harry began thrusting hard.
“Touch yourself,” Harry gasped.
Draco groaned, his hand grasping his cock firmly and beginning to stroke with the same fast
pace that Harry had set. Harry wasn’t even trying to count, but he knew it couldn’t have been
many strokes before Draco’s cock was spurting long lengths of come and his arse was
pulsing around Harry’s own cock. Harry thrust deeply one last time as his orgasm overcame
him. His hips spasmed at Draco’s arse until he was finally spent.
Breathing heavily, he dropped Draco’s legs to his sides. His head bowed, he watched as his
cock slipped from Draco’s arse as he shifted his hips.
“Harry?”
Harry slowly lifted his head to meet Draco’s gaze. “You’re going to be sore tomorrow,” he
said.
“Mmmmhmmm,” Draco murmured in appreciation. “Now clean us up and come here. I’m
starting to get cold.”
Harry relaxed and smiled a little before doing as Draco ordered. He snuggled up with his
back to Draco’s chest and Draco’s arms holding him close.
“Feel better?” Draco asked softly.
“Yeah, I do,” he answered. Harry found Draco’s hand on his stomach and pulled it up to his
chest, threading his fingers with Draco’s. “Love you, Draco,” he whispered.
“Love you, Harry,” Draco breathed across his neck, holding him a little tighter.
*****
Draco fell asleep quickly, sexually sated, but Harry found himself unable to drift back into
slumber. He was certainly tired enough, but he had the feeling that whatever potion he’d been
given to bring him out of the Dreamless Sleep was still in effect. And he wasn’t about to ask
for another one.
He eased his way out of bed, pulled on his pyjama bottoms and padded downstairs to the
nursery. He wanted to see Victoria. Victoria Potter. Just to see for himself that she was all
right.
Standing beside her cot, he gently brushed strands of hair away from her face. She looked so
much like Draco overall, but her hair, her black hair looked far more like Harry’s than
Draco’s. In sleep it was tousled all over her head, sticking up every which way. He knew that
come morning Narcissa or Winky would probably add little pretties to her hair and it would
be nice and neat. At least for a while.
Looking at her as she was, though, he could see her as a Potter child. He sighed heavily. It
wasn’t a good thing.
He turned to her wardrobe and searched until he found the little blue pyjamas. Snagging the
red and gold Quidditch blanket off the shelf, Harry carried them over to the rocking chair. He
sat, rubbing the soft materials between his fingers.
Lost in his thoughts in the quiet room, he was startled when Lucius walked in. Lucius didn’t
seem surprised to see him, though. He simply conjured another chair and sat down without
saying a word.
It wasn’t a comfortable silence. Harry felt rather foolish sitting there holding a baby blanket.
Without a baby. Not to mention the pyjamas.
He didn’t want to talk to Lucius. He didn’t want to leave, either. The longer they sat there,
however, the more agitated Harry felt.
“You probably have another hour before the potion’s effects will wear off enough to allow
you to sleep,” Lucius said.
Harry jumped at the sound of his voice and shot Lucius a dirty look. The man positively
delighted in keeping him off balance. Except . . . he didn’t look amused. Lucius’ features
remained rather neutral.
“Do you have a concern that can not wait until morning?” Lucius asked.
Harry averted his gaze, only to realize he’d been unconsciously stroking the soft blanket.
“Why am I stuck with only you to talk to?” he asked petulantly.
“Because everyone else is asleep,” Lucius answered calmly. “If you desire, I’m sure you
could wake whoever it is you wish to speak to.”
Harry huffed in annoyance. He didn’t want to wake anyone and Lucius was perfectly aware
of that fact.
“Why are you being nice to me today?” he blurted out.
The question brought the smirk back to Lucius’ expression. “I do not do nice,” he drawled.
Harry rolled his eyes. “Then, why have you been less of a bastard?” he asked, rephrasing his
question.
Lucius sobered as he shifted his gaze to Victoria, sleeping peacefully. “I have my

motivations,” he said.
“Yeah, I know,” Harry said, a ring of impatience in his voice.
He knew Lucius was behaving civilly because of Victoria and Draco, but he seemed to have
gone beyond that. He felt the heat flood his cheeks, remembering that he had actually sat in
Lucius’ lap, bawling his eyes out. He had trouble believing that had been him in that
situation, let alone Lucius. At least he had the excuse of a medical condition. What was
Lucius’ excuse?
“I owe you a great debt, Harry Potter,” Lucius said. “A few days ago I was sitting in a prison
cell with absolutely no hope of release. Now, I am here with my family. That is not
something I take lightly.”
He paused thoughtfully. “You treated me with decorum, if not exactly respect, at one of the
most difficult junctions of my life. I am capable of treating you in the same manner.”
Harry pushed off the floor with his toes, setting the rocking chair in motion as he pondered
that. Maybe it wasn’t niceness after all. If he was understanding correctly, it was one of those
manners things – a code of honour that held Lucius’ tongue in check. He couldn’t help but
wonder if that code of honour would hold up if Lucius didn’t have so much to lose. He
needed Harry right now if he was to ever have a chance of being allowed back into society.
Difficult junctions.
Harry had to admit that it was a fitting phrase. The day had been one hell of a crossroads for
him. It wasn’t everyday that he murdered people or picked a date to kill a Dark Lord. August
third would go down in history as the day of the battle at the Ministry. August tenth would
hopefully go down in history as the day Voldemort was defeated.
He shivered as he stared at the tiny pyjamas.
And he would be vanquished permanently. Harry wasn’t an innocent baby this time.
“You asked about Victoria when you first woke,” Lucius commented.
“I wasn’t thinking rationally and I was worried about her,” Harry admitted quietly.
“And now that you are thinking rationally?” Lucius asked perceptively.
Harry met his gaze bleakly, but didn’t answer the question.
“I know why Voldemort attacked the Ministry,” he stated instead.
“For power and control,” Lucius said. “Knowledge is power and there is a great deal of
information to be found in the Ministry.”
Harry’s hands fisted in the soft material. “Yeah,” he agreed.
“What does this have to do with Victoria?” Lucius asked, his tone a little sharper than it had
been.
“There’s nothing like a Potter child to goad Voldemort into killing people,” Harry said, deep
bitterness lacing his voice.
Lucius’ arched brow was his only response.
“Much as I’m sure this pains you, Lucius, Victoria is a Potter child as far as the Ministry is
concerned,” Harry said.
“Are you suggesting the attack had something to do with Victoria?” Lucius questioned.
“It had everything to do with her,” Harry answered flatly. “Voldemort’s afraid of her.”
Both Lucius’ eyebrows shot up. Harry was distantly satisfied he could keep Lucius off
balance as well.
“Potter, you make no sense,” Lucius said.
“This isn’t about me making sense,” Harry said irritably. “This is Voldemort’s fucked up way
of looking at things.”
Jaw tight, Lucius closed his eyes briefly. “Perhaps you would care to explain it then,” he said.
Harry flashed a quick smile. There was something reassuring about Lucius losing patience
with him – when he had the upper hand.
They looked up as the door opened. Draco stood in the doorway, lingering worry on his face,
but it was overshadowed by wariness as he took in the sight of his father.
Harry let out an undignified yelp as the rocking chair was transfigured while he was still in it.
Smirking in amusement, Lucius gestured for Draco to join them. Draco crossed the room and
sat down beside Harry in the chair that was now large enough for both of them. He did not
look comfortable sitting in his pyjamas for an impromptu meeting with his father, though,
even if it was close to midnight.
“Looking for me?” Harry asked softly.
Draco nodded, but he was eyeing the Quidditch blanket and pyjamas still in Harry’s lap.
Harry flushed with embarrassment. If he’d known anyone else was going to show up in the
nursery, he wouldn’t have got them out.
“I, uh, couldn’t sleep because of the potions,” Harry muttered.
“Why your things, Harry?” Draco asked quietly, running his hand over the blanket.
Harry glanced up at Lucius, who was waiting for him to continue with his explanation.
Lucius could wait until he’d answered Draco’s question first.
“Because I was thinking about how much Victoria’s life is like mine,” Harry admitted. “I
mean, it’s not really, because luckily she’s a Malfoy.”
He paused, wrinkling his nose. “I’ve never thought of it as a lucky thing to be considered a
Malfoy before,” he murmured absently.
He traced one of the snitches on the blanket with his finger. “I thought she was an orphan
when you first showed up with her,” he said. “She was just a little thing, being dumped off at
the Dursleys like me.”
He hesitated. “I’ve thought that’s where the similarity ended. Well, except for her poor hair.”
Draco snorted a soft laugh, glancing at Victoria. “Her mother had long, sleek hair. How she
could end up with your hair, I don’t know.”
Harry smiled faintly. “Your mum will make it pretty for her in the morning, and luckily for
her it just hasn’t grown out yet,” he said. His smile fell. “She does look kind of like me at the
moment, though.”
“Why is that suddenly a bad thing?” Draco asked, frowning.
Harry glanced at Lucius, who nodded once in encouragement. Merlin, Harry didn’t want to
tell Draco. He didn’t particularly care what Lucius thought, but he was worried about Draco’s
reaction.
“Voldemort wants her dead because she’s a Potter child,” Harry said wearily.
“He’s found out about her?” Draco asked in alarm.
Harry swallowed heavily and nodded. “Yes,” he admitted. “I knew it was a possibility when
Scrimgeour filed that paperwork that everyone would find out and it could get back to
Voldemort.”
“But everyone hasn’t found out,” Draco protested.
“No, but we haven’t got rid of all the spies in the Ministry yet,” Harry explained. “Someone
came across my paperwork for Victoria and took the information to Voldemort earlier this
week. They’d likely been holding on to the information for awhile, but panicked as
Scrimgeour started cleaning out employees. They’re dead now,” he added irreverently.
He paused, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. “Voldemort didn’t take the news well,
particularly as I’d just been taunting him about the prophecy a couple days before. I got a
first hand view of his mind earlier,” he said. “He . . . power is his priority. As far as he’s
concerned, I’m the only thing that stands in his way. He added Victoria to his list of
opposition this week.”
“The Dark Lord considered a child of yours to be a threat,” Lucius clarified.
“Yes,” Harry said. “I knew if he found out about her, he’d want to kill her. Being close to me
and all,” he added bitterly.
He shook his head. “I didn’t think he’d consider her a real threat, but he did. Gaining control
of the Ministry was just a side benefit of his attack today. His real purpose was his hope that
he would glean more information about Victoria. He didn’t want anyone knowing about it,
though. Not even Severus.”
“Because of what happened to him when you were a baby,” Lucius said.
Harry nodded, clutching the blanket to him a little tighter. “He wanted information. To gather
it himself, he needed free access to the Ministry. That’s why he chose to attack there instead
of Hogsmeade as I would’ve expected.”
Draco inhaled deeply through his nose. “So, at this point, Victoria is considered as big of a
threat as you.”
Harry nodded.
“She’s just a baby!” Draco exclaimed.
Harry smoothed the baby pyjamas over his lap. “It’s not the first time he’s targeted a baby,”
he said softly.
Draco’s eyes darted to Harry’s scar. “Well, it’s not right,” he snapped.
Harry laughed harshly. “Nothing’s right about this, Draco,” he said. “Voldemort will be dead
in a week because I’m not going to let him get to Victoria.”
“Victoria is safe here,” Lucius pointed out calmly.
“Yes,” Harry agreed. “And, actually, she’s not really considered a huge threat now.”
“What’d you do, Harry?” Draco asked suspiciously.
“Risked everyone to keep Victoria safe,” Harry said tonelessly.
“Explain,” Lucius said, eyes narrowed.
“I had to give Voldemort something,” Harry said. “One of the reasons I gave him the
prophecy was so that I could prove it had nothing to do with Victoria. He’s always known
that I’ve been some kind of threat to him. He’d come to the conclusion that my secret child
had something to do with the prophecy.”
He glanced at Draco. “Like I told your father, there’s nothing like a Potter child to goad
Voldemort into killing people,” he said.
“Are you blaming yourself for him attacking the Ministry?” Draco asked sharply.
Harry hesitated before shaking his head wearily. “I’ve done the best I could,” he said.
“Voldemort’s insane and there’s nothing I can do about that. I’ve understood that his attacks
would become bigger and more severe as time wears on. If it wasn’t Victoria, it would’ve
been some other excuse.”
“Is he now aware that Victoria is a Malfoy?” Lucius asked.
Harry shook his head. “No, he still thinks she’s a Potter,” he said. “If he’d learned she was a
Malfoy, he would’ve known I likely had Draco and Narcissa as well.” He shrugged. “At this
point, his main focus is back on me, not that it really ever left.”
“Severus isn’t going to be happy you lied to him earlier,” Draco said.
“I didn’t lie to him,” Harry snapped. “Severus already knows.”
“He does?” Draco asked, blinking in surprise.
“He was with Voldemort, remember?” Harry said. “Voldemort just found out Victoria wasn’t
as big of a threat as he feared, so he had no qualms about sharing the information and
laughing about it with Severus.”
“The Dark Lord just handed you more motivation to kill him, didn’t he?” Lucius said.
“Like I needed more motivation,” Harry muttered, but he nodded.
Lucius stood abruptly. “Now is not the time to go into the plans for this week. You two need
to go get some sleep,” he commanded. “That potion should be wearing off shortly.”
“Yes, Father,” Draco murmured.
Lucius left the room and Draco pulled Harry close. They rocked quietly, simply watching
Victoria sleep, until Harry started to drift off.
“Are you angry with me?” Harry asked as they made their way back to their room.
“Harry, I’ve never once regretted taking Victoria to you at the beginning of the summer and
I’m not going to start now,” Draco said.
*****
“Good morning, Victoria,” Harry said brightly, picking the little girl up and holding her close.
“Dada,” she gurgled cheerfully in return, causing Harry to beam happily.
“You’ve been flying under the radar, haven’t you?” he said, rubbing noses with her.
Draco kissed her on the cheek, then Harry, before taking his spot at the table. “What’s a
radar?” he asked curiously.
Remus chuckled at Harry’s blank expression. “Yes, Harry, what’s a radar?” he said in
amusement.
Harry stuck his tongue out at Remus petulantly as he settled Victoria into her chair. “I don’t
know what a radar is exactly. I just know what the phrase means,” he admitted to Draco.
“Well, what’s it mean?” Draco asked impatiently.
“I just meant that Victoria gets kind of ignored. There’s all this chaos going on, and she’s
even unknowingly a part of it now, yet she’s still quietly going on with her normal routines
underneath it all,” Harry explained.
Draco lifted a brow, indicating his doubt of Harry’s intelligence, and Harry stuck his tongue
out at him, too.
“And this is who is supposed to save the Wizarding world,” Severus said sarcastically.
“I am grateful that raising Draco has actually prepared me for this,” Narcissa said in
amusement.
“What do I have to do with anything?” Draco asked indignantly.
“I do think that the both of them are more difficult than most teenagers, though,” Lucius
drawled, ignoring Draco.
“I would never have survived all these years at Hogwarts if they were all as obnoxious as
these two,” Severus sneered.
“Hey!” Harry and Draco protested in unison.
“I only taught the one year, but they did rather stand out from the rest,” Remus agreed, his
eyes crinkling.
“You started this,” Draco accused, glaring at Harry.
“Me?” Harry exclaimed. “But I didn’t do anything!”
“You must have done something for them to declare us the worst teenagers in existence,”
Draco retorted.
“Not the worst,” Narcissa interjected, smiling warmly. “As Severus recently pointed out, the
two of you are simply more high strung than most. Your moods shift faster than sand at high
tide.”
Draco huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.
Harry sniggered. “Great of you to prove her point,” he said.

Draco opened his mouth to retort then shut it again, glaring at Harry sullenly.
Harry blew him a kiss, laughing as Draco pretended to catch it and throw it back at him.
“Keep your bloody kisses, prat,” he grumbled, but his lips were curling up at the edges.
Severus snorted in disgust. “Eat,” he ordered. “I fully expect you to turn back into adults after
breakfast.”
Harry winced at the reminder and sobered quickly. Severus was right. They had far too much
to do to waste time joking around. He let Draco tend to Victoria, quickly losing himself in his
thoughts as he ate automatically.
“I find myself preferring the light-heartedness from earlier,” Remus commented, breaking the
silence that had fallen over the table.
Harry looked up at him, then glanced around to the others. Only Victoria looked like she was
enjoying breakfast at all. He shrugged at Remus before turning his eyes back to his plate. But
he was done. He couldn’t eat anymore. He shoved away from the table and left without a
word.
Draco caught up to him as he slipped into the drawing room. Draco’s arms snaked around his
waist as he stood in front of the window looking down on the street.
“It’s raining,” Harry said flatly.
Draco rested his chin on Harry’s shoulder. “It is,” he murmured. He paused. “Do you really
plan to kill Voldemort in a week?”
“Yes,” Harry answered.
They stood there in silence, even after Severus, Remus, Lucius, and Narcissa entered the
room and sat down in preparation for their planning session. After several minutes had
passed, Severus finally spoke up.
“No matter how much you may wish to avoid this, we urgently need to make plans,” he said.
“I’m not avoiding anything,” Harry said quietly. He stepped out of Draco’s arms and turned
to face the adults, his expression hard and determined. “I know what’s at stake, I know what
needs to be done and I even know pretty much how to go about it,” he said. “I’m just going to
need everyone’s cooperation and there’s a lot of fine details to sort out.”
Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine details, indeed,” he muttered. “Gryffindors
have no sense of fine details or subtlety.”
Spirits somehow lightened by Severus’ comment, Harry smirked as he moved to sit down,
dragging Draco with him. “That’s why I have all of you,” he pointed out.
“The moods shift too fast to keep up,” Lucius muttered.
Harry and Draco exchanged glances and grinned at each other.

“Do not encourage them, Lucius,” Severus said dryly. “They have been difficult enough to
keep up with recently. I do not doubt that they will be a force to be reckoned with this week.”
*****
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Notes

Chapter Forty-Two
“So, where do we begin?” Remus asked quietly.
“Severus’ task,” Harry said promptly.
Severus nodded curtly in agreement. “The Dark Lord’s forces were severely depleted
yesterday,” he began. “He didn’t mind the recuperation period necessary after punishing his
remaining followers, because he is using this time to enlarge his forces. My task this week is
to recruit, or force, the Slytherins to join his ranks.”
“Blaise,” Draco breathed in realization.
Harry nodded and took Draco’s hand in his, squeezing reassuringly.
Lucius was frowning. “It was my understanding that the Dark Lord only assigned the task to
you,” he said.
“He did,” Severus agreed.
“If you do not bring the followers, he will know that you are not loyal to him,” Lucius said.
His gaze was shifting back and forth between Harry and Severus as he processed the
information. “He will be preparing for an initiation, while Harry is planning to ambush him.”
“Exactly,” Harry said. “I want to kill the bastard soon anyway and this gives me the perfect
opportunity. He doesn’t have as many followers right now. I don’t want to lose the people
he’s trying to gain. We can’t afford to lose Severus’ position. The easiest way to solve all of it
is just to kill him and be done with it.”
“Why are the other followers not helping you, Severus?” Narcissa asked.
Severus exchanged a glance with Harry before answering. “Because the others, after they
heal, will be sent on a mission to search for any information regarding Harry’s child,” he
admitted.
“You didn’t tell me that,” Draco accused, glaring at Harry.
“Because it doesn’t matter,” Harry said defensively. “Victoria’s safe here.”
“I’ve already spoken with Kingsley this morning and he has secured the paperwork regarding
Victoria,” Severus said. “Not that it matters much now, but it will continue to be kept from
the public. The goal was to keep the Dark Lord from finding out about her for as long as
possible. At this point, he has learned all that there is to know from the Ministry.”
“Is there any way he could trace Victoria back to the Malfoys?” Remus asked.
“I made sure that he still thinks she’s mine,” Harry answered.
“And I retrieved all documents that pertained to her while she was in her mother’s care,”
Narcissa said.
Harry looked at her in surprise.
“I did tell you my wife was resourceful,” Lucius drawled in amusement.
Harry darted a quick glare in his direction before focusing on Narcissa again, who was
smiling at him.
“While you and Draco were busy shopping in Diagon Alley, I was able to contact a couple of
people at the Ministry and obtain Victoria’s birth records,” she explained. “There is currently
no record of her existence there, except in regards to you as her godfather.”
“Did you know this?” Harry asked Draco.
“No,” Draco admitted, rather reluctantly as he eyed his father. “I should’ve thought of it,
though.”
“You should have,” Lucius agreed. “But your mother took care of it, and their memories were
Obliviated.” He shot Harry a wry glance. “Of course, my contacts are no longer working at
the Ministry.”
Harry opened his mouth. Closed it. Sighed in resignation. He couldn’t complain about them
breaking the laws when he was doing it regularly. He’d had two Ministers involved, and
certainly couldn’t fault Narcissa for covering their tracks.
“Criminals,” he said to Narcissa, smiling ruefully.
She smiled in return, nodding. “Must stick together,” she finished.
Draco was eying them oddly, knowing there was something behind their statements but not
understanding what it was. Harry still didn’t want to explain it. It was just his and Narcissa’s
way of stating they were family, odd as it was.
“So, the other Death Eaters will be out of the way on a fruitless chase,” Remus clarified in an
attempt to move on.
“Yes,” Severus said. “The real concern is what to do with the Slytherins.”
“I thought Draco and Blaise made plans for something like this,” Harry said.
“We did,” Draco said. “But we didn’t plan for you to be ambushing the Dark Lord at the
same time.”
“I don’t understand why it makes a difference,” Harry admitted.
“The original plans were to sequester the entire families,” Severus explained. “I do not
believe that will be necessary now. It would be extremely suspicious for entire families to
suddenly disappear and there is no need to take that kind of risk. The Dark Lord’s only
concern, at the moment, is my sixth and seventh year students from this past year.”
“Why is he going for them, anyway?” Harry asked. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to go for
people who are older and more . . . experienced?”
“They are impressionable,” Severus said curtly. “He can take in the young ones and mould
them as he desires.”
“And once he has them, he can bring in the neutral families,” Lucius pointed out. “It is a
quick way for him to replenish his numbers.”
Harry glanced at Draco, who was currently staring at the floor. Voldemort’s plan was,
unfortunately, beginning to make more sense.
“One of the biggest concerns lies with the fact that I am the only one who knows of this
task,” Severus said, eyeing Harry speculatively.
“All of this relies on me being able to kill him on Saturday,” Harry said.
Severus nodded.
“Will you be ready in time?” Remus asked in concern.
Harry exhaled heavily. “Honestly? I don’t know that I’d ever technically be ready for
something like this. But I have to be, so I will be. I’ve got some things that need to be taken
care of, but I don’t think it’ll be that difficult to finish. When it actually comes time, I just
have to make sure I kill Nagini before I kill him.”
“And you think he’s just going to stand there while you do that?” Severus asked sarcastically.
Harry closed his eyes, picturing the duel between Voldemort and Dumbledore in fifth year
and shuddered. “No,” he said. “I’ve seen Voldemort duel.” He frowned. “Actually, come to
think of it, I’ve technically duelled with him before.”
“Harry, I was witness to that, and you surely can not count on it happening again,” Lucius
warned.
Harry opened his eyes and shook his head. “I’m not,” he admitted. His frown deepened. “But
I reckon I should think about another wand. Can I use another wand?”
The adults exchanged glances before staring at Harry and Draco speculatively.
“Draco, let Harry try your wand,” Narcissa said.
“Surely my wand isn’t going to be suited to him,” Draco protested, but he pulled his wand
from his pocket anyway and handed it to Harry.
Harry hesitantly accepted it, feeling the warm wood beneath his fingertips. It felt all right, not
all that different from holding his own wand. With a nervous glance at Draco, he pointed the
wand at a book on a side table.
“Accio book.”
The book sailed easily and Draco caught it out of the air, frowning at Harry. “Do something
harder,” he commanded.
“Like what?” Harry asked, his face twisting. This was a serious matter and it really wasn’t
the time for thinking about what he wanted to do harder with Draco’s wand.
Draco gave him a strange look and then smirked as he caught on to Harry’s train of thought.
“Wanker,” he said. “Just try to transfigure the chair or something.”
“I can’t even do that with my own wand,” Harry protested.
“What do you mean you can’t do it?” Draco exclaimed.
“We haven’t learned how to do something like that in class,” Harry pointed out. “And I’m
afraid in all my extracurricular learning, I’ve never had to transfigure a bloody chair to save
my life,” he retorted.
“Oh, give me your wand,” Draco ordered. “Let me see if I can do it with yours. Father taught
me how to do the spell ages ago.”
Rolling his eyes, Harry handed his wand over. He was aware that the adults were quietly
watching the experiments with interest. He was sure Severus, in particular, could have lived
without their extra arguing, but he didn’t say anything.
If he wasn’t so amazed himself, Harry would’ve laughed at Draco’s look of shock when he
performed the spell with ease and he turned the chair into a table and back again. Harry was
swiftly instructed on the mechanics of the spell, and he did the same.
They sat staring at each other. “Harry, the wand chooses the wizard,” Draco said slowly. “It
shouldn’t feel so natural for me to use your wand.”
Harry shrugged. That’s what he’d thought, but what did he know. They both turned to stare
questioningly at the adults.
“You are correct, Draco,” Remus said, slipping into professorial mode. “The wand does
choose the wizard. Anyone can use someone else’s wand, but it’s often not overly compatible
and so spell casting is not nearly as effective.”
“Neville,” Harry said.
Remus nodded. “Yes, Neville was using his father’s wand until it was broken at the Ministry.
I presume his spell casting improved greatly this past year with a new wand?” he questioned.
Harry thought about it for a moment and then nodded.
“I reckon he wasn’t as clumsy in Charms last year,” Draco admitted grudgingly.
Harry looked at him curiously. “How would you know?” he asked.
“I was in Charms with you,” Draco retorted.
“Yeah, but why would you have noticed Neville’s charms?” Harry asked bemusedly.
Draco’s cheeks pinked, but he smirked at Harry. “I didn’t notice Longbottom’s charms, you
prat, I noticed yours.”
“Oh,” Harry said, blinking.
“You were paired up with him a lot. Whenever Granger and Weasley were actually getting
along, anyway,” Draco said. “You were on my back every time I turned around last year and I
made it a point to keep a watch on you.” He shrugged. “So, I noticed Longbottom wasn’t
harming you as much as I was hoping he would.”
“Fucking prat,” Harry said, whacking Draco on the back of the head.
Draco sniggered, capturing Harry’s hand so he couldn’t hit him again.
“Could we possibly move on?” Severus sneered.
Harry and Draco dutifully turned their attention back to Remus, who was shaking his head in
exasperation.
“Yes, you clearly understand that using someone else’s wand is not always effective,” Remus
said. “I can only hazard a guess, but your wands indicate that you two are quite compatible.
Particularly, your magic.”
He hesitated for a moment, staring at the boys. “I would go so far as to say that you each
have a balance for light and dark magic and your wands, your magic, recognize that in each
of you.”
Harry looked at Draco’s wand sceptically. “So, what, the wands see us as having similar
magic?” he asked.
“That doesn’t make sense, though,” Draco protested. “Harry and I obviously have different
strengths when it comes to magic.”
“Do you?” Remus asked. He shook his head. “I’m not convinced you are as different as your
past experiences would indicate. I think it is precisely those experiences that have separated
you. Harry has been required to focus on Defence, so its one of his strengths. But as you’ve
had cause to learn more of it recently, have you been able to pick it up quickly?” he asked
Draco.
Draco nodded slowly. “And Harry’s been able to pick up the offensive spells when he’s
actually been taught them,” he said.
“Precisely,” Remus said. “You are both very strong, powerful wizards. It is simply that, so far
in your young lives, you’ve each favoured different aspects of magic. It does not mean that
you do not have the potential to excel in other forms. Judging by the ease with which you can
apparently use each other’s wands, your strengths in magic are, overall, very similar.”
“Does this mean I actually could have been smarter in potions like Draco?” Harry asked
bemusedly.
Remus coughed. “Well, certain environmental conditions come into play with your learning,”
he said, attempting to be diplomatic.
Lucius chuckled, finding it humorous as Severus scowled deeply. “Yes, Harry,” he drawled.
“Perhaps you would have shown more potential in potions if you had received the same type
of instruction as Draco.”
“Just as Draco would have shown more potential in defence if he had had the same type of
experiences as you,” Remus added quickly.
“Another factor that has not been mentioned, is whether the subjects actually interest you or
not,” Severus said snidely. “The potential may be there, but it does nothing if there is no
interest or effort shown.”
Harry sighed, sorry he’d ever asked. Draco obviously saw the danger, too, and asked a
different question. “So, could Harry and I actually switch wands when he has to face the
Dark Lord, then?”
Severus’ eyes narrowed. “There is one spell that he must ultimately be able to perform,” he
said, answering Draco but piercing Harry with his glare.
“What? You want me to test Draco’s wand with the Killing Curse?” Harry asked in disbelief.
Severus’ eyes flicked pointedly to the tapestry that still hung on the wall. Harry followed his
gaze and swallowed heavily. He didn’t really want to do it, but he did need to know if he
could cast it successfully with Draco’s wand. He glanced at Draco. Draco gave him a half
shrug and a jerky nod. Not particularly encouraging.
Harry slowly stood, gripping Draco’s wand tightly as he moved to face the tapestry.
“Severus, is this really necessary?” Narcissa asked sharply.
“Yes,” Severus answered coldly.
Harry shot a glare at Severus over his shoulder, the words fucking prick on the tip of his
tongue. He managed to hold them back, as there was already enough tension in the air, but he
was still tempted. Severus was not remotely in a good mood and it was beginning to feel like
he was taking it out on him.
He didn’t really think Narcissa or Draco needed to see him cast the Killing Curse. Not after
he’d just killed Bellatrix the day before. He knew it was pointless to suggest that either of
them leave, though. Remus looked rather horrified by the proceedings, and was no help.
Harry’s gaze fell on Lucius. Lucius was composed and in control. Not angry, not horrified,
not disturbed.
“Deep breath and focus the power,” he said coolly.
Harry nodded once, mentally soaking up some of Lucius’ calm, and trying not to be disturbed
by the fact that he was taking lessons on performing the Killing Curse from Lucius Malfoy.
It was a lot different trying to perform the curse without the element of danger involved.
There’d been no danger involved when he took down the portrait, either, but he’d been
terribly worked up at the time. This was calculated and Harry wasn’t happy with it.
Reminding himself that he had to kill Voldemort in just a few days, Harry firmed his resolve
and focused his magic.
He levelled the wand at the tapestry.
He watched as it tumbled to the floor.
“I can use Draco’s wand,” he said flatly, turning around to face the others.
Draco, Narcissa, and Remus were staring at him in wide-eyed shock, but Lucius and Severus
looked coldly satisfied.
A violent shudder suddenly wracked Draco’s frame and Harry hurried over to him in concern.
But he hesitated before actually touching him, not sure if Draco would be particularly
reassured by him at the moment. Draco took the matter out of his hands.
“Don’t be a prat,” he muttered, leaning against Harry and resting his head on his shoulder.
Harry rubbed Draco’s back in what he hoped were soothing circles.
Remus cleared his throat. “I am surprised, and yet, I should have expected that,” he said
quietly.
“I am pleased that I am not the only one he tends to surprise on a regular basis,” Severus said
snidely.
“For fuck’s sake!” Harry shouted, tense and frustrated. “What the bloody hell did I do to piss
you off today? Is it just because I’m not taking all this seriously enough to suit you? If that’s
the case, then I’m sorry. I know it’s serious. I killed yesterday! I’m sitting here planning on
how exactly to kill again! The fate of all those Slytherins rests in my hands as much as they
do yours! But fuck it all, I’m handling it the best I can. If it’s not good enough, just tell me
what the fuck you want me to do!”
The room was silent after his outburst and he glared at the floor sullenly for a few moments.
“Fine,” he said coldly. “You want proof that I’m not really in denial or avoiding everything?”
He abruptly stood and began pacing in front of the cold fireplace, ignoring Draco’s protests
and Remus’ gentle admonishment to calm down.
“Today’s Sunday and I’ve got until next Saturday before Voldemort’s planning to summon all
his followers again. He’s expecting you to be recruiting all your Slytherins and initiating
them into his ranks on Saturday – the neutral ones, as well as those who believe they actually
want to be Death Eaters. But you won’t be, which is probably one of the biggest factors that
has you on edge because there won’t be any turning back. You’ve got to trust that I can
actually do this or you’re fucked. We’re all fucked.”
He paused and glanced at Severus. The man’s expression revealed nothing, but his eyes were
glittering dangerously. Harry sniffed and resumed his pacing.
“So, the question is, what has to happen this week to make it all work? As you’ve said, today
we plan. We put together the pieces of what needs to be done and you decide if it can actually
work or not. Because we all know that while everything may technically rest on my
shoulders, I’m looking to you to make sure I’m on the right fucking track. How I ended up
with Severus Snape as my bloody mentor-father figure, I have no idea,” he added bemusedly.
“I am not your father,” Severus snapped angrily.
Harry sneered at him. “Fuck you. You’re the bloody git who keeps calling me a child and
keeps tabs on me like a bloody parent would. And I listen. I may rebel, but I fucking listen.
Don’t ask me how it’s all happened. I’ve thought about it and I still can’t come up with a
good answer.”
His gaze flicked around to the others. “Somehow, I’ve got Narcissa as a mother figure who
fusses over me and takes care of me and I’ve got three father figures! Most of my life I’ve
never had one! Yet now, now I’ve got all three of you that I’m somehow trying to answer to
and make proud of me. Because of Draco, I’ve even got Lucius, and isn’t that just the
stupidest thing you’ve ever heard, considering we can’t stand each other,” he spat.
He could feel the angry tears forming and swiped at his eyes as he glared at the group of
people now staring at him in various degrees of shock. This was not what he’d meant to say.
“Harry,” Remus said soothingly.
“No!” Harry shouted. “Damn it! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say anything like that. No wonder
Severus is pissed off at me, since I can’t stay on track like I’m supposed to. People’s lives are
at stake and I’m rambling about pointless shite.”
“It’s not pointless, Harry,” Narcissa said softly.
Harry fisted his hands in his hair and began pacing again. He hadn’t even realized that he’d
stopped. He began talking again rapidly, trying to move on and forget his lapse into stupidity.
“Plans. The very first thing that needs to be done is that I need to take Ron and Hermione
with me to finish the task Dumbledore assigned. If I can’t complete that, then it changes
everything. I’ve done the hard part already and what I have left should actually be rather anti-
climatic. And before anyone gripes,” he said, pointedly glaring at Draco, “what I have left to
do is at Hogwarts and it should be relatively safe.”
He frowned. “I’ll pick up the sword while I’m there as well,” he said. “I think it’s probably
the best way for me to kill Nagini.” He nodded absently to himself. “Yeah, I think I can use
the sword and my own snakes to make quick work out of her.”
“It’ll also be quite fitting to kill her with the bloody Sword of Gryffindor,” he said, sneering
maliciously. “Voldemort’s going to be quite pissed off about that fact. Of course, he should
know at that point. He’ll know he’s royally fucked.”
He nodded again to himself, missing the exchanged, wary glances of the others. “We’re going
to need the Vanishing Cabinets and I’m going to have to do a lot of fast talking with the
Order. Because we’re going to need everyone. It’ll be crowded with the neutral Slytherins
here for the week, but it’s not like we’ll be here much anyway. Or, I won’t be here much, at
any rate.”
“We should contact Kingsley and bring him here today to be involved in this planning,” he
continued. He winced. “Actually, I suppose that’s why you discussed things with him
yesterday, isn’t it? He’s going to be too busy attempting to sort out the Ministry. I bet
everything is chaos. But maybe he can still come for awhile later.”
He realized that he hadn’t seen the Daily Prophet and decided maybe that was a good thing.
He didn’t really need to hear what state of panic everyone was in after what had happened.
Just one more week. With the help of his Slytherin family, Harry was going to confront
Voldemort and hopefully end things once and for all.
The others were startled when he whirled to face them. “Scoff all you want at the idea of
being part of my family,” he smirked. “Dumbledore was right and Voldemort’s going to pay.”
“Harry, have you gone mad?” Draco asked incredulously, brow raised.
Harry laughed mirthlessly. “Nope,” he said. “Believe it or not, I know perfectly well what
I’m talking about. It’s going to be a busy week.”
*****
“Well, this has been a fun day,” Draco drawled sarcastically.
Harry glanced towards the open door of the bathroom where Draco was currently staring into
the mirror over the sink. He thought Draco was rather sexy wearing only a silvery pair of
pyjama bottoms. He wasn’t so sure, though, that Draco wanted to hear that at the moment.
Draco was actually sounding rather pissed off, but Harry wasn’t sure why.
It could be anything after the day they’d had. Harry had gone rounds with everyone at various
points throughout the day, even Kingsley for the short time he'd been there before going back
to the Ministry clean up. He’d completely lost track of how many arguments he’d got into
with Severus. It hadn’t been much better with Draco. He figured the only reason it had been a
little better with Draco was because Draco had let Severus fight some of the arguments for
him.
Four Slytherins against two Gryffindors discussing plans for such an important battle, and the
necessary events leading up to it, had not been pleasant. The touches of levity they’d had in
the morning had come less frequently as the day wore on.
Harry was grateful that no one had brought up his outburst about parents. He was mortified
even now just remembering what he’d said and wished that he could take it back. There had
been so many other outbursts, though, that had overshadowed that first one. He’d not been
the only one to have a turn at ranting and expressing his frustration.
No one was impressed with Harry’s ideas, as there were some huge risks that they would be
taking. Harry had been accused more than once of having enough Gryffindor in him for ten
people – which Draco had been irritated with because he couldn’t figure out how Harry could
possibly have room for any Slytherin in him.
Harry had surprisingly had more support from Lucius than anyone else. Draco was scared
about what was going to happen which made him angry. Remus and Narcissa were worried
and far more timid. Severus was downright furious with him for any number of reasons.
Lucius, though, had somehow managed to remain calm most of the day.
Lucius was the one who would step in between Harry and Severus when they came close to
hexing each other. Lucius was the one who quietly backed up Harry’s bold ideas. Lucius was
the consummate politician, whereas Severus was the consummate spy with the need to keep
things as undercover as possible.
Eventually, though, they had come to agreement. Harry and Severus had been able to balance
out their ideas so that the risks would be minimized as much as possible. It was still going to
be a wildly complicated week. There were so many factors that would have to come together
for them to successfully fight the final battle.
“Harry, did you even hear me?” Draco asked irritably.
“Yeah, I heard you,” Harry said wearily.
He was sitting on the end of the bed, elbows on his knees and head resting in his hands. He
was ready for bed if he could just gather up the energy to pull the duvet back and climb in.
There was simply the problem of Draco’s to deal with – and he didn’t know what that
problem was.
Eyes still cast downward, Harry watched Draco’s bare feet pad into the room and halt directly
in front of him. The silence stretched until Harry couldn’t stand it anymore.
“What exactly have I done to piss you off?” he asked tiredly. “Whatever I’ve done, I’m
sorry.”
Draco snorted in annoyance. “You’re not sorry,” he retorted.
“Fine, then I’m not sorry,” Harry said flatly. “Whatever you want, Draco. I’m going to bed.”
“Don’t be like this,” Draco snapped.
“I’m tired of fighting today,” Harry said. “I want to make right whatever has you so upset
with me, but I don’t even know what I’ve done. Hell, that isn’t true. I’ve said so many things
to piss you off today, that I don’t see much hope of me being able to do anything to make you
any happier with me.” He shrugged dejectedly.
“Self-pity doesn’t suit you, Potter,” Draco said snidely.
“Piss off, Malfoy,” Harry retorted, stung by Draco’s words and the use of his last name in that
tone. Each day things were more and more difficult to cope with, and he was miserable with
everyone in the house upset with him for one reason or another.
He stood up abruptly, shoving roughly past Draco.
“Harry, wait!” Draco commanded, grabbing hold of his arm.
“Wait for what?” Harry asked, jerking his arm back. “Wait for you to mock me some more?
Wait for you to throw some more insults at me? I’m fucking tired, Draco. It’s been the
longest bloody day and I haven’t even done any of the actual work yet.” He stalked to the
door.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Draco demanded.
“To find somewhere to sleep without anyone glaring at me anymore today,” Harry shouted,
slamming the door.
He fully intended to go down to the kitchen, but the lure of the front door drew him.
Snagging Draco’s cloak off the rack, he called for Winky to retrieve his wand for him,
slipped outside and Apparated.
The bracelet warmed as he walked barefoot across the cold grass in the cemetery in Godric’s
Hollow.
Where are you?
Safe.
Harry, come home.
In a while.
Harry.
I just need some time alone.
It took several seconds but eventually the bracelet warmed again.
I’ll be waiting for you.
He was already feeling foolish for storming out, but he wasn’t ready to go back yet. He’d
been accused of being a high-strung idiot enough for one day.
He was angry with himself for crying again, but couldn’t seem to stop himself as he sat down
between his parents and Sirius’ graves. He’d never cried as often as he had in the last month.
But then, he’d never had as many reasons to cry before.
He’d not even mourned for the people who’d lost their lives the day before. Everything was
in an uproar at the Ministry. Scrimgeour’s funeral was scheduled for later in the week, but
Harry wasn’t sure that he’d be going, although it felt disrespectful.
He’d received a letter from Hermione, worried about how he was doing. He’d sent off a
return letter with Hedwig to reassure her that he was fine and to make plans to meet with her
and Ron the next day, but he could only seem to picture Fleur in her soot-covered wedding
gown when he thought of the Burrow. They had reason to be thankful, as they’d survived, but
there was still so much that was horribly wrong.
Everything surrounding him was beginning to spiral. He was caught in a storm of activity and
he wasn’t sure any longer if it was Voldemort’s or his own creation. It was act and react – on
both sides.
It simply all had to end, and soon, or Harry was going to snap. He was trying so bloody hard,
but even the people he’d come to care about so much were angry with him. It was just too
much to handle when he felt so alone.
“I’m scared,” he said abruptly. “I’m bloody terrified out of my mind.”
Telling his parents and Sirius wasn’t going to hurt anyone. The graveyard was still and silent
and the sound of his voice didn’t travel far. Draco’s cloak helped him to blend into the
shadows and, sitting on the ground, he was hidden from view even if anyone was out and
about at eleven o’clock at night.
“I haven’t let myself be scared,” he said. “Hell, I’m not sure I’ve even had time to be scared.
But today –”
He stopped, interrupting himself. “I reckon I should back up and mention I’ve got, um,
unexpected people helping me,” he said. Even in the solitude of the graveyard he didn’t dare
mention any names. He cast the Silencing Charm Severus had taught him, the strongest one
he knew, so that he could talk freely.
“Remus says you’d approve, or that you would eventually,” he said, sighing. “I don’t know if
you would, but I’d like to think so. They’ve seen a lot in their lives. They’re not the type to
get scared over just anything.”
He fell silent for long minutes.
“But today . . . today I saw their fear,” he whispered. “And that absolutely terrified me. I
mean, I know they’ve been worried about me. And Draco, I know he’s been scared. He’s had
bloody good reason to be. They’re all angry with me because they’re terrified I’m not going
to be able to do what I need to. They all think I’m foolish to even think about what I’m
planning. This is a rather one shot kind of deal. I don’t think I’ll be escaping this time if I
fuck up.”
Harry sniffled, sounding rather pathetic in his own ears. He was pathetic, he realized. He was
sitting in the middle of a graveyard wearing only his pyjama bottoms and his boyfriend’s
cloak, talking to his dead parents and godfather.
He tucked his feet close to his body and wrapped his arms around his knees, huddling within
the folds of the cloak. It smelled like Draco and he wished he was home in bed.
“Remus and Severus, they dared to bring up the sacrifices you’ve made for me,” he said. “I
didn’t react well.”
He chuckled mirthlessly, staring at Sirius’ name marking his grave. “I pitched quite a fit
actually. Scarily enough, I think you would’ve been proud of it. But I’m not proud. I’m just . .
. empty.”
And alone in self-appointed exile in a graveyard.
“Gods, maybe I am just the high-strung idiot child I’ve been accused of so many times
today,” he said mournfully.
He lapsed into silence again, lost in his thoughts.
“Do you know how hard it was to fight against them all day?” he asked suddenly. “I’m sure
you wouldn’t doubt that it’s been a battle in itself. That’s why I feel so drained and empty. It
took a lot out of me to stand up to them. I can’t say I was always rational, but I was
determined.”
He paused thoughtfully. “I have to be determined. I have to go into this with confidence,” he

said. “To do otherwise would mean my death. They want me to realize and understand that I
could be killed, as if I don’t already know that. What good am I to anyone, though, if I’m
focused on dying?”
He sighed. “Draco, he’s focused on the possibility of dying. It’s something he’s been
struggling with for a long time now. The others, too, they’ve . . . well, they’ve got a rather
strong sense of self-preservation. The problem is that they don’t think I do.”
He shrugged in the darkness. “Maybe I don’t,” he admitted. “Or maybe it’s just not the same.
I’m not really feeling it right now, but I think I can confidently say that my sense of optimism
is much higher than theirs.”
He laughed humourlessly. “Hell, even right this minute I probably have more optimism than
all of them combined. Well, except maybe for Remus,” he qualified.
“It’s just rather difficult to provide enough optimism for so many people besides myself,” he
said softly. “And I reckon I’m going to have to provide more hope to a terrible lot of other
people as well over the next few days.”
Resting his head on his knees, he sat there for a long time, letting the stillness and a sense of
calm wash over him.
*****
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Notes

Chapter Forty-Three
Harry was unsurprised when he was ambushed upon arriving back at Grimmauld Place.
“Where have you been?”
“What have you been doing?”
“Apparently I’ve been giving all of you another reason to be pissed off at me,” Harry
answered dryly. He shrugged out of Draco’s cloak and calmly hung it back on the rack.
Winky would get it later and clean it.
“You went out dressed like that?”
“Yes, thanks for your concern. Sorry for worrying everyone, but I was rather busy indulging
in an amazing bout of self-pity. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going upstairs to bed.” He
frowned down at his dirty feet. “After I wash up a bit. Then, in the morning, I’ll pull some
determination from somewhere and start another bloody day. Good night.”
He nodded to them all before starting up the stairs. He was halfway up the second flight
before anyone reacted.
“Well, that was rather unexpected,” Narcissa said.

“That child will be the death of me yet,” Severus retorted.
As he moved onto the third flight of stairs, he couldn’t hear any further comments. He didn’t
change his pace as he heard someone pounding up the stairs behind him, fairly certain Draco
had decided to follow him.
“Harry?” Draco said his name hesitantly.
“Yes, Draco?” Harry responded, stepping into their bathroom and stripping out of the
pyjamas that were wet and dirty, and not in a good way. He turned the water on in the shower,
but paused and looked over his shoulder as he realized Draco hadn’t answered.
Draco was frowning deeply. “Are you all right?” he asked.
Harry smiled softly. “I’m perfectly fine,” he said. “I just need to wash up.”
Draco nodded in bemusement and leaned against the counter to wait.
Harry cleaned up quickly. Draco simply watched with narrowed eyes as Harry dried off then
found a pair of Draco’s pyjamas to slip into.
“Are you still angry with me?” Harry asked.
“Yes,” Draco answered, but he sounded more confused and hurt than angry.
Harry sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling Draco, unresisting, down with him.
“I learned something tonight,” he said.
“What’s that?” Draco asked warily.
“That you’re a Slytherin,” Harry said with a small smile.
Draco raised a brow disdainfully. “Great,” he said sarcastically. “You’ve discovered

something the rest of us have known for six years. Hell, I’ve known since I could talk that I
was a Slytherin. The Sorting Hat was merely a formality.”
Harry’s smile widened. “Ah, yes, the Sorting Hat,” he said. “Do you remember our ‘talk’?
The one where you compared all my Slytherin and Gryffindor tendencies?”
Draco nodded, his expression extremely suspicious.
Harry turned to sit comfortably on the bed, folding his legs underneath him and Draco
followed suit until they were facing each other.
“I neglected to mention something to you that day,” Harry admitted. “The Sorting Hat wanted
to sort me into Slytherin, but I was rather vehemently opposed to that idea, so it put me in
Gryffindor.”
Draco closed his eyes, shaking his head. “This explains so much,” he muttered.
“It does,” Harry agreed. “And that’s what I finally figured out tonight.”
Draco opened his eyes again, frowning at Harry. “What are you talking about?” he asked.
“You were raised as a Slytherin. Same with Severus and your parents. I was raised . . . well, I
was raised as nothing until I started at Hogwarts,” Harry said bitterly. He shook his head to
clear it of thoughts of the Dursleys. “But then I was raised as a Gryffindor, even though I’ve
got some Slytherin in me.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “You’re exalted as the model Gryffindor,” he said dryly.
“Hmmm, yeah,” Harry murmured in agreement. “I can’t say that I particularly like it, but
that’s true. And I think that’s what our problem is now.”
“Harry, you’re making no sense,” Draco said sullenly.
“Yeah, well, nothing’s been making sense to me for the last two days,” Harry retorted. “I’ve
gone from one extreme to the other and round in circles trying to pull myself together and
keep myself together. And we won’t even get into what this entire summer has done to me.”
“You’re not regretting anything are you?” Draco asked.
Harry placed one hand on Draco’s knee in reassurance as the other reached up to finger the
rings on the chain around his neck. He smiled. “No, I’m not regretting us at all.” His smile
faltered. “Although, I am a little worried that you’re going to regret getting involved with
me.”
Draco started to speak, but Harry shushed him, putting a finger to Draco’s lips. “No, wait,”
he said. “Please just listen,” he added, when Draco batted his hand away irritably.
Draco nodded, but he didn’t look happy.
Harry sighed. “I don’t really want to go into all of it right now. I just know that I’ve been so
up and down with my emotions lately with everything that’s been going on. I don’t even
particularly like being around me all the time, especially when I turn into a crying idiot, yet
again,” he said self-deprecatingly.
“You’ve had reason,” Draco snapped.
Harry shook his head. “Yeah, I know, but I don’t feel like it’s any excuse,” he said.
“Of course, war and death is no excuse for crying,” Draco said flatly.
“Gods, just shut up, Draco,” Harry muttered irritably. “This isn’t what I wanted to talk
about.”
Draco rolled his eyes but pointedly pressed his lips together.
“Thank you,” Harry said sullenly, not feeling particularly satisfied.

Draco sneered at him, but remained silent.
“Anyway,” Harry huffed. “What I’ve been trying to say is that Slytherins value self-
preservation more than most people. You’re a Slytherin and so are Severus and your parents.
I kind of forgot that, or didn’t pay it any notice until tonight. I was . . . well, nevermind what I
was doing, but I reminded myself of that fact tonight.”
Draco was back to frowning suspiciously, but Harry ignored his expression.
“I truly recognized tonight that everyone is scared to death about what’s going to happen this
week,” he went on hurriedly. “And I haven’t really given that any respect.” He peered up at
Draco through his lashes. “Is that why you’ve been angry with me?”
Draco stared at him for long seconds, but then slowly nodded. “You don’t seem to care that
you could die in a few days,” he whispered, as if speaking any louder might make it actually
happen.
Considering the morbid topic, Harry smiled triumphantly. “See, you’re a Slytherin,” he
declared. “That’s what I learned tonight.”
Draco scrubbed at his face, rubbing his eyes. “You’re mad as a loon,” he said, his voice
muffled by his hands.
“But I’m not,” Harry said earnestly. “I’ve just got a different way of dealing with things than
you do. What was your focus when your task was to kill Dumbledore?” he asked abruptly.
Draco dropped his hands and stared at Harry blankly. “What the bloody fuck does that have
to do with anything?”
“Oh, nevermind, I’ll just tell you,” Harry said impatiently, ignoring Draco’s sudden glare.
“Your focus was on not dying. Self-preservation. That’s how you looked at it.”
“And that’s how you should be looking at things,” Draco snapped angrily.
Harry shook his head. “But it’s not how I’m looking at it,” he said. “I’m not looking at this
situation as a matter of not dying. I’m looking at things in terms of staying alive.”
“They’re the same thing,” Draco retorted.
“They’re not,” Harry said insistently. “One’s negative and one’s positive.”
Draco was frowning again, but now it was thoughtful.
“Your whole focus last year was on not dying, and it was actually slowly killing you,” Harry
said earnestly, desperately trying to make Draco understand what he was seeing.
“I may have a lot of Slytherin traits, but self-preservation obviously isn’t one of them,
because I just don’t do things that way,” he went on. “Maybe it’s all the Gryffindor in me that
says to hell with lying low and passively not dying, because I’m going to go out and fucking
make sure that I stay alive.”
His face twisted. “It’s probably the Gryffindor in me as well that says I should be brave and
never admit to being scared if I can help it. I realize now that you’ve probably needed to hear
that I’m actually terrified out of my mind that something’s going to go wrong and we’re all
going to die. That way you actually know that I don’t want to die.”
“Because I don’t want to die,” Harry continued quickly. “I really don’t, but I just don’t have
the time or patience to deal with self-preservation like you do.”
“You’re definitely not patient,” Draco said wryly.
“I’m not,” Harry agreed, grinning.
“Still, how can you be so bloody confident that you’ll live through all this?” Draco asked.
“Shouldn’t you be at least a little more concerned that you’re going to be facing off the most
powerful wizard alive?”
Harry sobered, trying to gather his thoughts and figure out how to answer that.
“Draco, I am concerned,” he said slowly. “I’m bloody terrified if I allow myself to think
about it. And, gods, I’ve had it rammed down my throat often enough lately by all the
Slytherins around me that I think I’m going to choke on that knowledge.”
Realization was dawning in Draco’s eyes. “And you have been choking on it, haven’t you?”
he said. It wasn’t much of a question.
“Yes,” Harry said quietly. “Draco, I just can’t go into this the same way that you do. I think,
subconsciously, I’ve been trying to because it’s what you and Severus want from me – to go
into all this with an entirely Slytherin attitude. It’s just not working for me. Gods, it’s slowly
driving me insane and I’ve been falling apart.”
“And today, we were all cramming it down your throat that you weren’t going to be able to
do this,” Draco said, sighing.
Harry shrugged. “Yeah, but I got myself sorted out tonight. I figured out that I’m a rather odd
mixture of both House’s qualities, but I need to go with what works best for me.”
Draco eyed him speculatively. “So, what works best for you?”
“I go into this with confidence,” Harry said promptly. “If I dwell on the possibility of dying, I
think we’ll all be dead, and to fuck with that. The last couple of days, I’ve been dwelling on
death a lot. And with good reason,” he admitted. “All those people who died at the Ministry
yesterday and several dead because of me.”
He paused, half expecting Draco to say something. When he didn’t, Harry continued.
“It’s horrible and tragic and maybe I should be mourning and considering my own mortality,
and I reckon I have been,” he admitted. He shook his head. “It makes me sound like a
horrible person, but I just don’t have the time for all of that. We’re all seriously fucked if I let
what’s happened suck away all of my confidence.”
“You’re not a horrible person, Harry,” Draco said softly. “Exactly the opposite.”
Harry gave him a small smile. “Whatever else I am, I’m going to take some Gryffindor
bravery and some Slytherin cunning and I’m going to pull this all together and make it
happen,” he said. “No more doubting myself.”
“I’m still not happy about all this, mind you,” Draco said. His smirk returned. “But I’m with
you.”
“That’s what I need,” Harry said gratefully. “I may be going into this with confidence, but
that’s partly because I know I’m not going into this all alone.”
Draco pushed him backwards, landing on top of him. “You’re not alone, Harry,” he
whispered against Harry’s lips before claiming them.
*****
“You realize that we can go no further with our plans until you are back,” Severus said
coldly, stalking into the kitchen.
“Yes, Severus,” Harry said calmly before stuffing more toast in his mouth.
Severus dropped the Hufflepuff cup and the Slytherin locket on the table beside Harry.
“Ewww! I’m trying to eat here!” Harry said, quickly swallowing his toast and thinking they
should be thankful he’d managed to not spit it out all over the table. He scrunched his nose
up in disgust. “Winky, could you go get my rucksack, please.”
He ignored the raised eyebrows around the table and quickly stuffed the Horcruxes into his
bag the second Winky returned with it. He was not going to eat with pieces of Voldemort
sitting at the table.
“That was just disgusting and uncalled for,” he muttered, tossing his bag across the room
before turning back to his breakfast.
Snape gazed down at him impassively. “Just when I think your behaviour can’t possibly get
any more bizarre,” he said.
Harry grinned up at him cheekily. “Ah, but your life would be boring without me in it,” he
said.
Draco and Lucius snorted in amusement, while Remus and Narcissa were attempting to cover
their sudden smiles with their teacups.
“Indeed,” Severus said, moving around to his own seat. “I wouldn’t know what to do with
myself if I ever had a moment’s peace and was allowed to relax.”
“If I don’t get any peace yet, then you don’t. You can just consider this my revenge for the
way you’ve treated me all these years,” Harry said brightly, spearing a sausage and ripping
off a bite with his teeth.
Severus stared at him. “Harry, why are you so disgustingly cheerful this morning?” he asked.
“You would think your midnight escapades would be slowing you down. And where exactly
were you last night?”
“Uh, I was out?” Harry suggested.
“Everyone was worried sick about you, Harry,” Remus chided gently.
“Yeah, I know, and I’m sorry,” Harry said quietly. “I just needed to do a little thinking. I’m
fine now, though,” he added happily.
“For how long,” Severus muttered darkly.
“Severus, the boy’s been through a lot recently,” Narcissa admonished. “His behaviour is to
be expected, and it could actually be far worse.”
“Merlin forbid it gets any worse than this,” Severus said snidely.
“Come now, Severus,” Lucius drawled in amusement. “He is holding up rather well. Perhaps
you would have found it more to your liking to be dealing with . . . say, one of Harry’s
friends,” he suggested.
Severus shuddered and Harry smirked at him. “You do know that Voldemort could’ve
actually chosen Neville to mark with the terms of the prophecy,” he pointed out gleefully.
Severus choked on his tea, causing Harry to laugh.
“Longbottom would’ve been cowering in a corner this whole time,” Draco said, sniggering.
“He never would’ve been able to work with Severus.”
Remus was smiling. “Neville is brave, but he’s not so foolish as to attempt to take on
Severus,” he agreed.
“Hey!” Harry protested, although he was still laughing.
“You have to admit, Harry,” Remus said. “It is not just anyone who would align themselves
with Severus and three Malfoys.”
“Ha! See, that just shows how smart I am, not foolish,” Harry declared haughtily.
“Perhaps it is not so horrible working with Harry after all,” Severus said smoothly, amidst the
laughter. “Indeed, it could be worse.”
Harry beamed at him brightly before digging into his breakfast again.
“Wherever you were last night, it seems to have done you a world of good,” Remus
observed.
Harry took a drink of his pumpkin juice, glancing at each person sitting at the table, stalling
for time. “I, uh, went to see my parents and Sirius at the cemetery in Godric’s Hollow,” he
finally said quietly, receiving several sharp looks for his admission.
“But you came back happy,” Draco blurted out, looking like he instantly regretted it.
Harry smirked wryly. “Yeah, so I find comfort in bizarre places. What’s your point?”
The expression on Draco’s face said he wanted to answer, but wasn’t sure how.
“Harry, are you all right?” Remus asked in concern. “I’m not sure what I expected, but I
certainly didn’t expect that.”
“I’m perfectly fine, actually,” Harry said easily. “I guess I just needed a little reminder of
where I come from.”
“Your Gryffindor side,” Draco murmured in sudden understanding.
Harry smiled at him. “Yeah. It helped me put it all into perspective so that it made sense,” he
said.
“So that what made sense?” Remus asked in confusion.
Harry exchanged a glance with Draco.
“Harry and I had a little talk last night after he got back,” Draco said. He lifted a brow
questioningly and Harry nodded.
Harry munched on some more sausage and generously gave Victoria some more banana as he
listened to Draco explain. He was rather amused by the fact that Draco managed to explain it
much more eloquently and succinctly than he had the night before. Remus was gazing at
Harry proudly as the Slytherins’ eyebrows slowly rose during the explanation.
Lucius snorted when Draco finished. “Now, doesn’t that explain a lot about Gryffindors,” he
drawled.
“At least, this particular Gryffindor,” Severus qualified. He was gazing contemplatively at
Harry.
“It is not arrogance,” he said, stating it as a matter of fact.
Harry shook his head, taking another bite of toast.
“A Gryffindor approach to self-preservation,” Severus said.
Harry simply nodded. Every once in a while he was smart enough to know when to keep his
mouth shut, and he knew this was a particularly rough revelation for Severus. He was happy
that he’d finally been able to sort it out in his own head, and well enough to be able to
explain it in terms that Slytherins could understand and maybe even respect.
Everyone else was also wisely silent as Severus came to terms with what Draco had revealed
about Harry’s reasoning for his behaviour and his attitude towards the upcoming battle.
“You are still an obnoxious brat,” Severus said finally, calmly taking a sip of his tea.
Grinning, Harry nodded.
*****
“Perhaps some day you will be able to explain the significance of those items,” Severus said,
nodding at Harry’s rucksack that he’d picked up from the corner.
Harry glanced at him in surprise, wondering why he’d say something like that, when he had
warned Harry to keep it secret.
“When you’re not consorting with a Dark Lord any longer, I’ll be sure to tell you,” Harry
said sarcastically.
“I’m not consorting with a Dark Lord,” Draco said mock-innocently. “You can tell me.”
Harry walked over and pointedly pulled back Draco’s sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark on his
forearm.
Draco sneered at him. “Picky little twit, aren’t you?”
Harry shook his head in fond exasperation.
Remus pulled up his own sleeve, smiling. “I don’t have any mark,” he said.
Harry bit his lip thoughtfully. “Ha! But you’re consorting with him,” he said, jerking his
thumb in Severus’ direction.
He danced away from the kitchen table, laughing, before anyone could whack him over the
head. He felt good. He felt better than he had for awhile. Which was a little odd, considering
the circumstances, but he decided that it was all right. Everyone needed a bit of optimism and
hope, so he’d give it to them – until the snarky Slytherins choked on it. He grinned at his
thoughts. They could keep their pessimism; he was rather tired of it.
“Do I dare ask what’s going through your head now?” Draco asked wryly, wrapping his arms
around Harry’s waist.
Harry grinned wider. “Um, no. I could tell you, but I don’t think you really want to know,” he
said.
Draco narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but he changed the subject. “I still want to go with you
today,” he said.
Harry rolled his eyes. “Draco, you can’t,” he said.
Draco nipped at Harry’s bottom lip. “You’re being a real pain in the arse with this secret,” he
said in annoyance.
Harry frowned thoughtfully. He pulled Draco closer, but glanced back at the table. “To be
honest, I’m a little surprised that none of you have been able to figure out what I’m doing,”
he admitted. “I would’ve been seriously worried if Draco had figured it out, but Severus or
Remus or Lucius . . .”
He shook his head in confusion. “I’m glad no one’s figured it out, but it makes me wonder if
I should just keep this secret forever,” he said.
Wasn’t that what Severus had wanted him to do? Had he changed his mind?
“I have something of Voldemort’s – something besides these things – and I’m wondering if it
should be destroyed as well,” he said.
“May I ask what it is?” Remus asked, his forehead creased in concern.
“Knowledge,” Harry said simply.
“What kind of knowledge?” Lucius asked sharply.
Unconsciously, Harry pulled Draco even closer, hugging him tightly. “The worst sort of evil
knowledge,” he admitted. “The kind of knowledge that makes Voldemort practically
immortal.”
“But he’s not immortal, right?” Draco asked, wide-eyed.
Harry realized how tightly he was holding Draco and pulled back a little. “Once I’m ready to
kill him, he won’t be,” he answered with grim satisfaction.
“Aside from the philosopher’s stone, which Dumbledore destroyed after you retrieved it, I
know of nothing,” Remus said slowly, his brow now furrowed deeply.
“I don’t know where Voldemort learned about this. Well, I know where he learned one part,
but I’m not sure he’s even alive now,” Harry said. He cocked his head to the side as he
mentally debated the likelihood of Slughorn still being alive, not noticing the raised eyebrows
and exchanged glances. “He’s probably dead now, and I know he would’ve taken the
information to his grave. The only reason I knew to trick him out of it was because of
Dumbledore.”
He shrugged one shoulder dismissively. “Anyway, wherever Voldemort learned it all, I don’t
think it was from any book. He basically wrote his own book on the subject.”
“And you are in possession of that book,” Severus stated.
Harry gave him a lopsided grin. “Yeah. Rather decent of Voldemort to write me a bloody
manual, don’t you think?” he asked cheekily.
“That’s how you knew what spell to use in the well,” Remus said in realization.
Harry nodded. “Well, I didn’t know, but Hermione did. I translated a bunch of spells for her
to research and she picked out the right one that I needed,” he admitted.
“Translated?” Severus questioned, brow raised.
“Um, yeah,” Harry admitted nervously. “Why am I telling everyone all this?” he asked
abruptly.
“Because we’ve worn down your resistance,” Draco answered smugly.
“Translated, Harry?” Severus interjected, keeping Harry on topic.
Harry exhaled heavily. “Voldemort’s personal notes are all in Parseltongue,” he admitted.
“The day you gave me that energy potion to stay awake, I spent the morning working out
exactly what happened when Voldemort tried to kill me.”
“Which time?” Draco muttered.
“When I was a baby,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, once we sorted all that out, I
translated the Parseltongue to English while Hermione wrote it all down.”
“So, that’s why you were so desperate to see Granger,” Draco said.
Harry grimaced.
“It’s not why you were so desperate to see her?” Draco asked in surprise.
“Um, no,” Harry admitted sheepishly. “I got a rather stupid idea in my head and thought
Hermione might be able to help me sort out if it was true or not.” He paused. “Actually, it
really wasn’t so far-fetched an idea, scarily enough, but I was able to answer my own
question when I read Voldemort’s diary.”
“You know, Harry,” Draco said conversationally. “I really hate when you make no bloody
sense.”
Harry dropped his head onto Draco’s shoulder and tilted his head so he could see Severus.
Severus gave a minute shake of his head, warning Harry not to reveal everything. He was
relieved that apparently Severus hadn’t changed his mind, but where was Severus going with
this discussion? Why was he allowing it?
They were touching all around the subject, but as long as Harry didn’t state that they were
discussing Horcruxes, he was probably fairly safe with what he was revealing. They didn’t
know what they were, let alone how to go about creating them – and that was a good thing.
Of every secret he kept, of all the knowledge he guarded, the Horcruxes were the most
important. All of their lives depended on that secret.
“Harry, just how important is it to keep this knowledge out of the hands of Dark wizards?”
Lucius asked.
Harry flinched. Good fucking question.
Draco jerked away from him, staring at him in shock. “Is that why you won’t tell us?” he
asked.
“Draco, I’m disappointed it has taken you this long to figure it out,” Lucius drawled.
Draco was furious. “You don’t fucking trust us!” he shouted.
Harry had the feeling he’d just figured out what Severus was thinking. Severus was
concerned about the fact that Draco was still pushing to know about the Horcruxes and he
was bringing the issue out into the open. It would’ve been nice if Severus had warned him
and given him a plan to work with, but Harry suddenly knew how to get the message across
to Draco. Although, if it didn’t work, he’d be in serious trouble.
“Would you like to yell at me some more about how I don’t trust you, or would you rather
hear the truth that I’ve simply been following Dumbledore’s orders on this the best that I
can?” Harry asked mockingly.
“Fuck you, Potter!” Draco shouted. “You’ve been feeding me that line all summer. I thought
you’d actually come to trust me.”
Harry raised a brow, which simply infuriated Draco further and he narrowed his eyes as he
glared at Harry.
“Don’t you pull that innocent act on me,” Draco sneered.
Harry chuckled darkly. “Innocent? I’m far from innocent, Draco, and you know it.” He took a
step forward menacingly and jerked his rucksack off his shoulder. Shoving his hand inside,
he came back out with the Slytherin locket and tossed the bag aside, keeping his eyes locked
on Draco’s stormy eyes.
“You want to know what I’ve been keeping secret from you?” he asked dangerously, taking
another step forward. He swung the locket in front of Draco’s face. “You want to know what
this is?”
Draco didn’t say anything, beginning to look a little apprehensive.
“This? This is pure evil,” Harry said. “And I have the knowledge behind this creation. I could
get rid Voldemort and become the next Dark Lord.”
Draco’s eyes widened and he took a step back.
Harry took a step forward.
“Would you like to rule the world with me, Draco?” he asked. “Because we could, you know.
I’ve killed now.”
“Harry!” Remus said, sounding horrified.
“Leave them,” Severus said sharply in warning.
Harry didn’t turn, but he watched Draco’s eyes dart towards the table and then quickly back
to Harry, backing up another step.
“I’ve got power, Draco,” Harry said, dropping his voice into a seductive purr. “You like
power, don’t you? What Dark wizard doesn’t like the lure of more power? Isn’t that one of
the reasons why you actually wanted to become a Death Eater for so long? Because you
thought it meant power? You wanted it so bad you could taste it.”
“Harry, stop,” Draco said weakly.
“Why, Draco?” Harry asked. “Why should I stop? I’ve got the knowledge to bring us
greatness. We’re young. Just imagine what we could do.”
He swung the locket lazily. “I’ve learned a lot from Voldemort, and you’re quite intelligent.
I’m sure we could learn from his mistakes. Perhaps you’re right that I’ve been too secretive
with this knowledge. I should share it with you, at least.”
He abruptly stepped closer to Draco and dropped the locket around his neck. Horror twisted
Draco’s features as he scrambled to get the thing off, but Harry grabbed his wrists and pinned
him against the wall that he’d backed up against. He’d never have been able to do it if Draco
had been thinking clearly, but Harry’s unexpected attitude had thrown him off balance and
Harry was taking advantage of it.
“Harry, stop!” Draco pleaded. “Get this off of me!”
He obviously didn’t realize the locket was essentially harmless as it was, but Harry wasn’t
going to disabuse him of the notion. He’d let Draco’s imagination run wild with it.
“But I thought you wanted me to share my evil secret with you,” Harry sneered. “You
accused me of not trusting you. You were angry because I wasn’t sharing the secret of this
locket you’re now wearing.”
He leaned in close. “Tell me, Draco. How much do you really want to know about this?” he
asked dangerously.
“I don’t want it! Please, just get it off me, Harry,” Draco begged.
Harry let go of him as abruptly as he’d pinned him and jerked the locket off of Draco’s neck.
Draco leaned limply against the wall, looking like he was going to slide down it at any
second.
“I’m extremely aware of the temptation that a Dark wizard would see in the knowledge I
have,” Harry said, back to lazily swinging the Slytherin locket off his fingertips.
Draco straightened, coming back to life and snarling in Harry’s face. “Fuck you, Potter!
You’re not a bloody Dark wizard. You’d never do anything like that!”
Harry thrust the locket in Draco’s face. “Do you see this, Draco? For some stupid fucking
reason, I don’t really want to expose you to it. Because you do have a dark side that was
tempted by the lure of power. I trust you, but that doesn’t mean I want to shove temptation
down your throat and see how long it takes before you choke on it.”
He shoved his other hand into his shirt and pulled out his chain with Draco’s and Victoria’s
rings. “Do you see this? This is what I choose to wear. This is what’s important to me. This is
where my power lies.”
They stood glaring at each other for long seconds. Draco finally sniffed haughtily. “What do I
need the Dark Lord’s secrets for when I’ve got you? You’re dangerous with a side of
darkness that will never turn evil and you’ve got far more power over the Wizarding world at
the age of seventeen than the Dark Lord’s ever had.” He paused. “And you’ve got a nice
arse,” he added.
Harry choked on his startled laughter.
Draco was suddenly glaring at him again. “But don’t you ever talk about becoming a Dark
Lord again,” he warned.
Harry shrugged. “I just needed to prove my point,” he said.
“Fuck, Harry!” Draco exclaimed. “You scared the fuck out of me!”
“Good,” Harry said simply.
Draco huffed at him, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Your interactions with my son are rather unique, Harry,” Lucius said, drawing their
attention.
“But effective,” Severus said in satisfaction.
Remus’ head was resting in his hands and Narcissa was extremely pale.
“Remus?” Narcissa said.
Remus lifted his head to look at her questioningly.
“Your son is rather dangerous,” she said calmly.
Remus’ lips turned up at the edges. “It’s Severus’ influence on him,” he said.
“Ah, good, I’m pleased you two are claiming him, as Narcissa and I already have Draco to
contend with,” Lucius drawled.
Harry and Draco exchanged glances and grinned.
“I don’t think they realize that all four of them are stuck with the both of us,” Draco said.
Severus was pinching the bridge of his nose. “Harry, my insolent brat child, do you not have
things you need to be doing?” he asked pointedly.
Harry’s grin widened. “Yes, sir,” he said. He leaned close to Draco to stage whisper, “How’s
that for the bizarre scale?”
Draco nodded, impressed. “I reckon it ranks quite a ways up there,” he said.
“Go!” Severus ordered. “And please do remember that you’re involved in a war and people’s
lives are at stake while they wait for you.”
“I’m aware of what’s at stake,” Harry retorted. “I’m also aware that it’s barely eight o’clock
in the morning, since you ordered Narcissa to drag us out of bed so early.”
Harry found himself on the receiving end of a death glare and decided it might be wise to
finally get going after all. “All right, I’m leaving,” he grumbled.
*****
A/N: I’ve been avoiding author’s notes, but . . . in hopes of clearing up at least one issue, my
use of the word reckon is intentional. "The British have retained an old use of reckon in the
sense ‘think’ or ‘suppose’ in serious discourse, whereas that use in America is old-fashioned
or rural, a comic marker of ‘hick’ talk." (Quoted from the article at this link.
http://www.pbs.org/speak/ahead/change/ruining/) With as much dialogue as I write, yes, I
have made frequent use of the word. *smile* Fan fiction for me is a learn-as-I-go process and
it’s been rather a learning experience in itself to note the different things that people pick up
on, seemingly dependent mainly on where they live. I’ve begun to truly understand why
JKR’s books are edited differently for different countries – and I’ve learned that I have
readers from so many places around the world!
I’m lucky to have such fabulous readers. This was, and still is, just my way of entertaining
myself and making things “right” (highly subject to interpretation!) after HBP while I wait
for the reality of book seven. Judging by your response, I’ve exceeded far beyond my own
expectations for this story. Thank you for reading. The story would not be such a success
without all of you.
Oh, and for those who are interested, popcorn moments will be coming up in the next update!
Until then!
~~Biza
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Notes

Beta: Many thanks to Bookgirl, Lucie and Gestaltrose!
Chapter Forty-Four
Harry paused before opening up the main doors into the Chamber of Secrets. He glanced at
Ron and Hermione. Neither of them had ever been there before, and he wasn’t sure they were
prepared to see the remains of the basilisk. Knowing about it and seeing it were two different
things.
“Just get on with it, Harry,” Ron said.
Harry’s brow furrowed, but he nodded. Opening up the Chamber doors, he led them inside.
He was assailed by the memories once again, but kept a handle on his surroundings this time.
“Bloody hell,” Ron breathed.
“You killed that?” Hermione said, her eyes wide. Her gaze shot to Harry. “Harry, you were
twelve,” she squeaked.
Harry shrugged, watching as Hermione’s eyes darted back to stare at the basilisk. He
understood the need to take a few minutes to assimilate what they were seeing.
He didn’t think they’d appreciate him pointing out his bloodstains on the stone floor where
he’d fallen beside Ginny, both of them almost dead. That would probably be too much
information, and it wasn’t like they didn’t already know what had happened.
“You brought Ginny back here,” Ron said.
“I had to,” Harry said quietly.
Ron simply nodded, eyes still trained on the giant snake.
“If it’s a shock for us to see this, I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for you and Ginny
to see it again after so long,” Hermione said, turning to look at him.
“We did all right,” Harry said, knowing he was stretching the truth, but they’d succeeded
with their task and come through it well enough.
Hermione gazed at him knowingly, but she didn’t call him on it. “Ron and I simply heard
about what happened here. You and Ginny . . . you survived this Chamber of Secrets.”
“More like Chamber of Horrors,” Ron muttered.
Harry grinned. “It’s not the most pleasant place,” he agreed.
Ron sighed heavily, but he was sporting a rueful smile when he faced Harry. “You and Ginny,
though, you’re tough, brave Gryffindors, yeah?”
“Yeah, we are,” Harry said, knowing he was forgiven for bringing Ginny back to this horrible
place.
Hermione’s eyes were filled with understanding. “I forget sometimes just how much you’ve
done,” she said. “It’s no wonder you get tired of being questioned, when you can obviously
take care of yourself.”
She gestured to the basilisk, her face twisting into a grimace. “If you could deal with that
when you were only twelve . . .,” she said, her voice trailing off into a shudder.
“We’ve no right to question you,” Ron finished.
“Or Ginny,” Hermione added softly.
Ron grimaced. “Or Ginny,” he reluctantly agreed.
“I don’t know why we were complaining,” Hermione said. “You’ll clearly do anything to
protect her. You’re her knight in shining armour,” she teased.
Harry stared at her, feeling alarmed. “Uh, Hermione, you do know Ginny and I aren’t getting
back together, right?”
“Oh, I know,” she said. “Ginny and I had a long talk recently and I understand that you see
each other more as brother and sister. Ron’s the one still insisting you should be together.”
“No, I’m not,” Ron said.
Hermione blinked. “You’re not?”

“No,” Ron said, throwing an arm over Harry’s shoulders in a gesture of solidarity. “I think
Harry should be able to see whoever he wants.”
Harry’s guts twisted warmly, a distinctly odd sensation. While he felt warmed by the fact that
Ron was supporting him in seeing a bloke, Ron had no idea said bloke was Draco. Judging
by the surprise on Hermione’s face, though, Ron had managed to keep the secret that he was
even seeing anyone.
Hermione stared at the two of them suspiciously. “Is there something you two want to tell
me?”
“Um, the day’s not getting any shorter?” Harry suggested, forcing an innocent smile.
His smile turned more genuine, seeing the look on Hermione’s face. He could tell that she
desperately wanted to question him, but she’d only got through saying that she understood
his irritation with being questioned.
“Hermione, right now we’ve got things to do,” he said. “We can talk about other stuff later.”
Later was going to come far too soon as far as he was concerned. He was not looking forward
to telling them who he was seeing.
Hermione stared at him searchingly before nodding in acceptance.
“Well, let’s get this potion brewing, then,” she said briskly. She eyed the basilisk warily. “Do
you two think you can handle getting the venom?”
Ron and Harry grimaced, but nodded their agreement. Hermione moved as far away from the
thing as she could and began unloading cauldron and supplies, laying everything out neatly.
“How are we supposed to do this again?” Harry whispered, hoping Hermione didn’t hear
him. Ron was looking a little green, and Harry had the feeling he looked no better himself.
Ron swallowed heavily. “Well, Hermione reckons there might be enough venom in the other
fang,” he said. “We just have to break it off, and be careful not to lose any of the venom.”
“Right, because the fangs are hollow,” Harry said, staring at the basilisk’s huge mouth and
the extremely sharp teeth.
He exchanged a glance with Ron as his words registered and they both glanced back to see if
Hermione had heard him. She’d given a ten minute lecture about how the snake’s fangs
weren’t really hollow, but there was a cavity inside that connected the venom gland to the tip
of the fang where the snake released its venom. They knew far more about it than they really
cared to know.
Ron looked back to Harry. “Yeah, hollow,” he whispered.
Both of them were hoping fervently that there was enough venom in the fang, as they did not
want to have to do any dissection to get to the venom gland. Harry’s stomach roiled
unpleasantly just thinking about that possibility.
“I’ll cut,” Ron said grimly, marching forward with determination. Not knowing Harry had his
own dagger now, Ron had borrowed one from Charlie just for this purpose.
Harry stared at the fang as he approached, trying not to focus on the broken fang on the other
side. He grabbed hold of the smooth bone, gripping it tightly as Ron worked to cut it free.
Eventually, they worked it loose with a final wrench, and they stood staring down into it.
They exchanged a glance and shrugged. Looked like venom to them. Carrying it carefully
back to Hermione, she examined it before giving them a look of approval.
“Perfect,” she declared.
Harry and Ron stood back as Hermione carefully measured, poured and stirred. Fifteen
minutes later, she sat back and nodded in satisfaction. The cauldron was hissing and bubbling
with a foul green concoction and was emitting waves of a noxious stench.
“You’re positive the smell of that isn’t going to kill us?” Ron asked, echoing Harry’s
thoughts.
“It won’t kill us if we don’t touch it,” Hermione answered.
Ron and Harry each took a step back.
“Well, it is for destroying the Horcruxes,” Hermione said, also stepping away from the
cauldron carefully.
Harry transferred his attention to the stone statue of Salazar Slytherin. He still needed to
retrieve the last one. With Hermione and Ron right behind him, he instructed the mouth to
open and began the climb. He slid down the tunnel without a second thought and began
lighting the torches.
“Why don’t these ones light themselves?” Ron asked. “The other ones do.”
Harry shrugged. “I think it’s to put focus on the one that doesn’t light,” he said.
Looking forward to the next part even less than he’d looked forward to retrieving the basilisk
venom, he opened the small chamber.
The three of them stood staring at the mirror resting on the table.
“It looks rather harmless, doesn’t it?” Ron said.
Harry grimaced. He was still afraid of picking the damned thing up. He watched as Hermione
edged her way around the small room, stopping to inspect the stone on the far shelf. She cast
several spells over it before finally scooping it up into a jar.
“Now we’ll be able to destroy this the same way as the Horcruxes,” she pronounced.
Harry took her word for it. She’d been the one doing all of the research regarding the matter.
He was glad there wouldn’t be a curse on the Defence Against the Dark Arts position any
longer, but it wasn’t amongst his priorities.
His gaze shifted back to the mirror.
“I think you can pick it up safely,” Hermione said.
“You think?” Ron exclaimed. “You don’t know for sure, but you want Harry to pick it up
anyway?”
“There’s no magic surrounding it,” Hermione said defensively. “Not like there was around
the cup. Or the locket. We can pick it up just as we can hold the others without harm. We just
have to check them all for other protections before we destroy them.”
Harry noticed that she wasn’t willing to pick it up. But she was right. This was his
responsibility and, if he was honest, he didn’t even want her to attempt it. He just didn’t want
to do it himself, either. Taking a deep breath, he finally stepped fully into the room and
picked up the mirror.
And almost dropped it again when it came to life in his hand.
Like most magical mirrors, this one could talk. Harry stared at the reflection of Tom Riddle.
Older than his diary image, but still obviously human.
“Who are you?” Tom demanded.
“Hello, Tom,” Harry sneered.
The image blinked once in shock. “You know who I am?”
Old memories assaulted him, and Harry felt a great deal of satisfaction as he threw Riddle’s
words back at him. “Yes, I know who you are, Tom Riddle,” he said coldly. “And I am your
past, present, and future.”
Tom gazed back at him with a new air of speculation. “You are aware I am Lord Voldemort,”
he murmured.
Harry snorted derisively. “Not for much longer,” he spat.
He was startled when Ron slipped a black bag over the end of the mirror, covering the glass
portion.
“Let it go, Harry,” Ron said, his voice not overly steady.
Harry tipped the mirror down and let it slide fully into the bag. Ron pulled the drawstring
with a sigh of relief.
“How many different forms of him have you met?” Ron asked.
“A few,” Harry admitted, glaring at the bag.

Hermione drew in an audible breath. “Let’s go get this over with,” she said.
Harry had to call for Fawkes, as they hadn’t bothered to bring brooms with them. The
phoenix deposited them back onto the main chamber floor and, to Harry’s surprise, didn’t
leave again. Instead, Fawkes flew up to rest on the statue.
“He looks like he’s watching over us,” Ron whispered. “Do you think that’s a good or bad
sign?”
“I don’t know,” Hermione answered nervously, casting a glance at the simmering cauldron.
Harry exhaled heavily. Merlin, he was going to be glad when this was over with.
He retrieved the other Horcruxes from his rucksack and laid the cup and locket out on the
stone floor. Taking the drawstring bag from Ron, he dumped the mirror out next to them,
thankful it only seemed to be alive when he touched it.
Hermione had taken out a parchment from her own bag and they began going through the
entire list of detection spells they’d translated from the diary. Hermione gave them to him in
English, he shifted his attention back and forth between basilisk and Horcruxes and cast the
spells in Parseltongue.
It was a tedious process, but their efforts paid off as they determined what spells Voldemort
had used as final protection to his Horcruxes. Attempting to destroy them without removing
those protections would result in some nasty repercussions. Harry did not want his arm to end
up like Dumbledore’s.
He refused to dwell on the thought that if Dumbledore had only known Parseltongue, he
likely wouldn’t have been injured. He wouldn’t have ended up dead, either. Harry squeezed
his eyes shut against the flare of pain and regret. Opening them, he glared with bitter hatred at
the mirror.
“Harry, are you ready for the counter-spells?” Hermione asked softly, seeming to understand
his thoughts.
Swallowing hard, he nodded. He was more prepared for casting the Dark spells, and the
reactions weren’t nearly as severe as when he’d broken the dome of magic on the cup.
Casting the counter-spells still took a fair amount of energy, though.
When he was done, Ron passed him a vial of Pepper-Up without comment.
“So, can we destroy the fucking things now?” Harry asked Hermione.
She nodded, gazing at Harry worriedly. “Yes, there’s nothing left about the Horcruxes to
counteract with the potion. It’ll be able to do its job without interference.” She continued to
babble on about the potion, and Harry didn’t interrupt. He’d already heard it all before, but he
could use the rest she was allowing him.
“The potion is an acidic poison which will essentially melt down the Horcruxes. With the
known effect of basilisk venom, we can be certain that its addition to the brew will, in fact,
destroy them,” she explained. “I’ve ladled out a vial that we’ll save for Nagini, but otherwise,
we just need to drop the Horcruxes into the cauldron.”
“So, do we each take one and drop them in at the same time?” Ron asked, staring with
revulsion at the gurgling cauldron.
“I think that’ll be best,” Hermione said.
Harry started to argue, but then decided against it. They were in this together, and there was
no reason he had to do this part alone, much as he wanted to insist on it.
“Wait, I need to destroy the stone first,” Hermione said when he made to pick up the mirror.
“It shouldn’t cause a major reaction.”
Harry lifted an eyebrow dubiously, but stood back and watched as she carefully tipped the jar,
dumping the stone into the noxious brew. The potion belched loudly, but Hermione had been
right and there didn’t seem to be any other reaction, even though they waited for several
minutes.
“Well, let’s do these Horcruxes then,” Ron said on an exhale.
Hermione picked up the locket and Ron grabbed the cup. Neither of them wanted to deal with
the mirror.
Harry grasped the handle of the mirror firmly, watching it come to life, such as it was. He
was aware of Ron and Hermione gazing at him with horror, but there was a sick sense of
satisfaction of sending Tom Riddle, aware, to his death.
“What are you doing?” Tom demanded. Harry made sure the mirror’s reflection could see the
vile brew bubbling in the cauldron.
“Time for you to die, Tom,” Harry sneered. “On three,” he said to Ron and Hermione, who
were already positioned around the cauldron.
Ignoring Tom’s shrieks for him to stop, Harry counted down and they slipped the three relics
into the caustic potion. It gurgled alarmingly and they took several steps back, staring in
horrified fascination.
“Run!” Harry shouted as the level began to rise. They turned tail and ran, but didn’t get far.
All three were thrown to the stone floor as the chamber was flooded with an explosion of
white light and power.
Five seconds. Ten. Twenty. The light faded, leaving them stunned and blinking furiously as
the room returned to normal.
Wincing at the flare of pain in his shoulder as he sat up, Harry glanced at his friends to be
sure they were all right. They were wincing a bit as they sat up as well. They turned to look
back at the cauldron. He was surprised to see it bubbling as it had before they’d placed the
Horcruxes into it. He was even more surprised when Fawkes flew down to land beside it.
“What’s he doing?” Ron whispered.
“He’s crying in it. I think,” Harry said bemusedly.
“He’s neutralizing the poison,” Hermione answered them. “So it won’t be harmful any
longer.”
Hermione cautiously approached the cauldron when Fawkes trilled. The potion had already
calmed and, as she stirred, it changed from the foul green to a pale yellow. She still took the
precaution of donning a thick, protective glove before sticking her hand into the cauldron.
She pulled out three recognizable lumps and tossed them onto the stone floor before
vanishing the contents of the cauldron. Harry stared at them. He could tell what they’d once
been, but only because he’d seen them before they’d been ruined.
“Mission accomplished, mate,” Ron said, a great deal of relief in his voice.
“Yeah,” Harry agreed, feeling a fair amount of relief himself. They’d be able to move on with
their plans and hopefully Voldemort would be dead in just five more days.
“Are you both all right?” Hermione asked in concern, now that the danger was past.
“I banged up my knee a bit, but I’m fine,” Ron said.
“I just got my shoulder,” Harry answered.
“And your head,” said Ron, pointing to Harry’s forehead. Surprised, Harry reached up, and
winced at the huge knot he found. His fingers came away sticky with blood.
“You didn’t know you’d hit your head?” Hermione asked incredulously.
“I’m used to my head hurting,” Harry answered defensively. “I’m not used to my shoulder
aching.” His head did hurt, but his shoulder was hurting far more.
Ron and Hermione shook their heads at him sadly. Hermione had a few bruises on one side as
well, and they slugged down a round of Pain-Relieving Potions before packing up.
They were all relieved once they were back outside in the sunshine in Hogsmeade. They
pointedly ignored the strange looks they were receiving from the few people out and about.
“Are we going to Fred and George’s flat or straight to the Burrow?” Ron asked.
Harry shook his head. “You should go clean up at the twins’ first before your mum sees you,
but I’m going to go see Remus,” he said.
“But Harry, we need to talk about what we’re doing now,” Hermione protested.
He’d managed to put off most of their questions about what had happened at the Ministry,
telling them he’d talk about it later. Hermione was under the impression that “later” meant
now – the task was complete – but Harry was not remotely in the mood to deal with it.
“I already know what I’m doing,” he said. “I’ll be in touch with you soon.”
Not giving them a chance to respond, he Apparated to Grimmauld Place. He knew Ron and
Hermione weren’t happy with him for disappearing, but he couldn’t bring himself to care
much. He surely had an inquisition waiting for him at home that he was less likely to avoid,
and all he really wanted to do was go to bed.
He trudged inside and, against his better judgment, made his way down the stairs to the
kitchen. He wasn’t overly surprised to find everyone there, involved in more strategizing.
“Harry! What happened?”
Ignoring Draco, Harry pulled out the vial of poison and handed it to Severus. “I need you to
hold on to that for me,” he said.
“Harry, what is this?” Severus asked sharply.
“Acidic poison augmented by basilisk venom,” Harry answered wearily. “Deadly.”
“I thought you said what you were doing today wouldn’t be dangerous,” said Draco, his voice
rising. “Anti-climatic, you said.”
“Obviously, I lied,” Harry said, falling into a chair.
Narcissa was there almost instantly with a cool rag, wiping down his forehead.
“What happened to your head?” she asked, examining it closely.
Harry made to shrug, but winced at the pain in his shoulder and changed his mind. “I fell,” he
said. “Banged my head and bruised my shoulder.”
Lucius disappeared to the potions lab, presumably to gather potions. Remus fixed a cup of tea
and handed it to Harry. “Drink,” he said. “You look like you could use it.”
He sipped at the tea while Narcissa cast healing spells on his forehead and cleaned up his
face. His shirt was cut away without warning.
“Hey!” he protested.
“I need to examine your shoulder, and the shirt was ruined anyway,” Narcissa said calmly.
“Merlin, Harry!” Draco exclaimed, staring at Harry’s shoulder. “What the fuck did you do?”
Harry glanced down and grimaced at the state of his shoulder. It was severely swollen,
scraped and the bruising covered a large area.
“I got slammed pretty hard,” he admitted.
Narcissa took the bruise salve from her husband and began applying it. Lucius gave him the
other potions to drink, smirking as Harry downed the Pain-Relieving Potion first.
Severus sat down across from him and set the vial of poison in the middle of the table.
“Explain,” he commanded.
“I need that for Nagini,” Harry answered. “I plan to kill her with the sword, and dump that
poison over the wound for good measure. Make sure she’s destroyed properly,” he said. “I
just need to kill her and then I can kill Voldemort. The rest of my task is done.” Despite his
exhaustion, there was a great deal of satisfaction in his voice.
“Who brewed this?” Severus asked.
Harry glanced at him askance. “Hermione did, of course,” he answered. “Ron and I just got
the basilisk venom for it.”
Severus’ eyes closed, giving off the impression that he was searching for patience.
“You had to fight a fucking basilisk?” Draco asked loudly.
“No, we just got the venom from the one I killed before,” Harry said.
Draco stared at him in stunned disbelief.
“So, the rumour of the monster in the Chamber was true,” Lucius stated.
Harry sneered at him. “Yeah, it was true,” he said. “It’s no thanks to you that I survived
second year.”
“I believe you are aware that I was only attempting to discredit the Weasleys,” Lucius said
evenly.
Harry really didn’t want to get into a fight. He sighed heavily. “Yeah, I know,” he said. “I also
know that you were punished severely for what you did and you still don’t even know exactly
what the diary meant to Voldemort.”
Draco was glancing warily back and forth between his father and Harry. “Why do I always
feel like I’m missing something?” he asked.
“Because you are,” Harry answered simply.
“Draco,” Narcissa said. “We didn’t feel it was appropriate to fill you in on certain events. We
felt you were too young, and we felt that the less you knew, the less you would be in danger.”
“And I haven’t told you about what happened in the Chamber because it’s not one of my
favourite subjects,” Harry said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “And you don’t
take it well when I call your father out for being a bastard.”
Draco’s jaw tightened automatically.
“Harry is correct in this instance,” Lucius said calmly to his son.
Harry and Draco both looked at him in surprise.

Harry shook his head. “Look, I don’t want to talk about it,” he said. “It’s done. It’s over with.
I never have to go back to the fucking Chamber again.”
“If we could possibly get back to the current situation,” Severus sneered.
Harry sucked in a deep breath. “Hermione brewed the potion. Ron and I got the basilisk
venom. I retrieved Voldemort’s last relic. We determined the remaining protections on them. I
cast the counter-spells in Parseltongue. We destroyed them in that poison. The backlash of
power knocked us all to the ground. Fawkes neutralized the potion. We went home. Done.”
“Oh, and Hermione dealt with the curse on the Defence Against the Dark Arts position,” he
added. “Professors will be able to teach for more than a year at a time now.”
“There was an actual curse on the position?” Severus asked sharply.
“Yeah, Voldemort was pissed off when Dumbledore wouldn’t give him the job years ago,”
Harry said. He explained about the curse stone he’d found and how Hermione had dealt with
it before they’d destroyed it along with Voldemort’s other relics.
“Can I go to bed now?” he asked petulantly, interrupting the silence that had fallen over the
room. It was only five o’clock, but he didn’t really give a damn.
“How much Dark magic did you cast today?” Severus asked, eyes narrowed.
“Enough to get the job done,” Harry answered.
Severus stared at him speculatively for long seconds. “Draco, take him to bed,” he ordered.
Harry wanted to argue that he was capable of putting himself to bed, but decided against it.
He could probably use some help in the shower to clean up as his shoulder was still throbbing
despite the potions and the salve.
“I’m pissed off at you,” Draco said casually, as they made their way upstairs to their room.
He had an arm around Harry’s waist, holding him tightly despite the slime.
“Yeah, that’s all right,” Harry said tiredly. “I knew you would be.”
“You’re not going to be pulling any more stunts like this are you?” Draco asked.
“Not unless you count Saturday,” Harry agreed.
Draco snorted softly. “Yeah, Saturday you’re going to have us all involved in your foolish
stunts,” he said.
*****
Harry woke up alone, grimacing in pain. His shoulder should’ve been feeling better, but it
was still hot and swollen. The scrapes and bruises were gone, though. A glance in the mirror
in the bathroom showed him that his head looked normal again. As normal as it ever did with
a lightening bolt slashed across it.
He sighed, feeling rested at least, as he’d slept through the evening and all night. And part of
the morning. He didn’t bother with attempting to get dressed until he found someone to look
at his shoulder. Wondering why everyone had let him sleep late, he made his way downstairs.
He stood stock still in the doorway of the kitchen, staring in shocked disbelief. It looked like
the bloody Slytherin house table from Hogwarts had moved into Grimmauld Place. And
Draco was sitting in the middle of the large group of students, looking as snooty and arrogant
as ever.
Harry could admit that he was exaggerating a bit, as there were only about fifteen students
crowded around the table, but that was plenty enough Slytherins for his tastes. The biggest
shock was the sight of Crabbe and Goyle sitting at the far end. He was positive they’d not
been on the list of neutral Slytherins.
He stood frozen in place, waiting for Draco, anyone, to explain what the hell was going on.
This would teach him not to sleep.
“Ooooh, Potter does actually live here.”
Harry stared at the girl who’d spoken, finally recognizing her as Daphne Greengrass. She was
eyeing him up and down and he was finding it a little disturbing. Searching the table, he
spotted Blaise, who rolled his eyes at Daphne’s behaviour.
“Malfoy, would you care to explain what the fuck is going on?” Harry asked, his voice rising
with each word spoken.
Draco was busy glaring at Daphne, while everyone else was staring at Harry.
Technically, Harry had known they were going to bring the neutral Slytherins to Grimmauld
Place. Winky had prepared two large rooms that would serve as dorm rooms for them.
Severus and Lucius had essentially kidnapped all of them. The families would unfortunately
be worried, but Voldemort would believe Severus was doing his job.
When Harry had asked about it being suspicious that only the neutral Slytherins were
disappearing, Severus had informed him that Voldemort would think he’d stolen them away
for extra training before receiving their Dark Mark, precisely because they were neutral.
The whole process sickened Harry, and he’d argued the plan fiercely on Sunday. But this was
the way Severus had insisted on doing things, so as not to arouse suspicion while still being
able to protect the most vulnerable. This group of Slytherins would be bound to the house by
wards until after the confrontation with Voldemort.
Harry knew all this, but . . . it was supposed to have been a few students at a time over the
course of the week. Not a sudden influx. And Crabbe and Goyle weren’t supposed to be
there.
Harry just wanted someone to look at his shoulder, and he wanted to eat. It was too early in
the morning to process that there was an entire group of bloody Slytherins in his house.
“Draco!”
“What?” Draco snapped, annoyance lacing his voice.
Harry glared at him. “What the fuck is going on around here?”
“Oh, well, I’m busy hating you,” Draco said pointedly, rolling his eyes.
Harry stared in disbelief, and it took several seconds before he caught on to Draco’s meaning.
“Severus’ idea?” he asked to be sure.
Draco nodded. Severus wanted them to pretend like they still hated each other? Why? That
made no sense, as they were obviously allies in the same house. Which meant Severus didn’t
want them letting on that they were seeing each other.
“No,” Harry said flatly.
Draco smirked widely. “I tried telling him that you wouldn’t go for it,” he said.
“Were you planning on listening to him?” Harry asked.
“Hell no,” Draco said.
“Where is Severus?” Harry asked, eyes scanning the room again. Still just Slytherin students.
“Or any of the others, for that matter.”
“They’re all locked in the potions room. Since you finished your task yesterday, Severus and
Father didn’t waste any time going around to everyone’s houses. I think they’re discussing
how things went last night and what to do about the other Slytherins during the battle, if
anything,” Draco said.
He swept his arm expansively. “We’ve already had a big meeting early this morning
explaining everything to this lot,” he said.
“Glad I missed it,” Harry said.
He frowned at the group listening avidly to his and Draco’s conversation. They’d just been
kidnapped from their families – dumped into a house with four Death Eaters, a werewolf, a
baby and Harry Potter – but they seemed fairly accepting and relaxed from what he could tell.
Was it just a Slytherin thing he didn’t understand? He wondered if a new batch of Calming
Draught needed to be brewed.
“Oh, and be warned. Severus has been up all night,” Draco added.
“Isn’t it, though?” Draco smirked, sauntering towards Harry. “There should be a wonderful
explosion when he finds out you chose to ignore his orders.”
Harry arched a brow. “I’m not the only one,” he pointed out.
“Ah, but you’re the only one willing to face his wrath,” Draco said, arms circling Harry’s
waist.
“Hey, careful of my shoulder,” Harry warned.
Draco’s smirk instantly slipped into an expression of concern, looking over Harry’s shoulder.
“I thought it’d be healed by now,” he said.
Harry snorted. “Yeah, I thought so, too,” he said. “I’ll still take the kiss you were going to
give me, though.”
Ignoring the Slytherins’ shocked gasps, Draco complied. Harry’s free hand clutched Draco’s
shoulder as he was kissed thoroughly. There wasn’t going to be a doubt in anyone’s mind that
they were together.
“Well,” Harry said breathlessly, “that’s one way to announce things.”
Draco nuzzled his ear as he whispered, “Most of them would figure it out soon enough
anyway, when they recognize the rings you’re wearing around your neck.”
“Oh,” Harry said, as his eyes widened. Considering he was still wearing just a pair of pyjama
bottoms – Draco’s pyjamas, for that matter – the rings were obvious on his bare chest.
Draco chuckled softly, the sound tickling his ear and sending a shiver down his spine.
“Clothes too much of a bother today?” he asked.
“I just didn’t feel like trying to get dressed until I got someone to check my shoulder first,”
Harry answered. Draco immediately backed off again, taking another look. “It looks better,
but just as swollen as it was yesterday.”
“It hurts twice as bad, though,” Harry said dryly.
“Of course it does,” Draco drawled. “You were doped up on potions yesterday.”
Draco grabbed his free hand. “C’mon, we’ll go get Mum to look at it,” he said.
Harry stood his ground. “Uh, don’t you think we should deal with them first?” he asked.
“Although, I do think it’s rather funny to see the Slytherins with their mouths hanging open
in shock.”
Draco sniggered as they gazed back at all those still seated around the table. Only Blaise was
smirking wryly in return. Everyone else was wide-eyed and slack-jawed.
Crabbe broke the silence first. “So, we don’t have to put up with Pansy anymore?” he asked
Draco.
Draco just shook his head. Harry could feel the sudden tension radiating off of him, but he
didn’t understand it.
Crabbe and Goyle nodded in acceptance.
“Well, if he could save us from her, I reckon everyone was right when they said Potter was
the Saviour,” Goyle said.
The tension was broken for everyone as the room exploded in laughter. Pansy was obviously
not well-liked by this group. Harry’s laugh quickly turned into a groan, his shoulder aching
fiercely.
“What is the meaning of this?” Severus demanded as he swept into the room, eyes flicking
over the occupants swiftly and coming to rest on Harry.
“Harry?” he questioned sharply.
“My shoulder,” Harry said, grimacing. “Something’s still wrong with it, and I’ve just jarred it
again because I was laughing too hard.”
“Laughing?” Severus questioned. “All of you?”
“Um, yeah,” Harry said. “Crabbe and Goyle said a couple things that were really funny.”
Severus arched a brow but swiftly dismissed the issue of the laughter. He glanced pointedly
at Harry and Draco’s joined hands, obviously not hiding the fact that they were together.
“You two realize that the suggestion was for your own safety,” he said.
“I’m not hiding my relationship any longer than I have to,” Harry snapped.
“I honestly expected no less of you,” Severus admitted calmly, much to Draco’s shock. “You
always have worn your heart on your sleeve.”
“Now, sit so I can examine your shoulder,” he commanded. The occupants in the nearest
chairs moved swiftly, allowing Harry to sit down as ordered.
Severus ran a couple of scans with his wand, poked and prodded and attempted to rotate his
arm.
“Fuck, Severus,” Harry hissed. “That hurts.”
Severus simply frowned at him. “I am unable to determine what is wrong,” he admitted.

“With the potions you took yesterday, it should not be bothering you still today.”
Harry wanted to roll his eyes, but managed to refrain. “I reckon I need to go see Madam
Pomfrey, then,” he said in resignation.
Severus smirked at him. It was a rather evil looking smirk, in Harry’s opinion. “Indeed, I am
certain she will be able to determine what is wrong,” he said.
“I needed to go back to Hogwarts anyway,” Harry admitted. “I forgot the sword yesterday.
Well, I didn’t forget, but I didn’t want to face McGonagall looking the way I did.”
Severus was frowning thoughtfully. “Perhaps I should go with you,” he said.
“Are you going to tell her?” Harry asked curiously. “It would make things easier later this
week.”
Severus gave him a curt nod. “Eat your breakfast while I discuss the matter with the others,”
he ordered before sweeping out of the room again.
“Sure, I can’t even move my bloody arm and he wants me to eat breakfast,” Harry muttered.
Draco pulled out a Pain-Relieving Potion from his trouser pocket, and handed it to Harry
after he’d pulled the stopper, seemingly without even thinking about it.
“Do I need to feed you like we feed Victoria?” he asked with a disturbingly cheeky grin.
Harry scowled at him. “I’m not a bloody baby,” he retorted.
The girl sitting across from him suddenly squealed, startling Harry and everyone else in the
room. Daphne, Harry reminded himself.
“What?” Draco asked sharply.
Daphne was staring at Harry’s chest. “That’s the baby’s ring, isn’t it?” Her eyes widened,
before rising to meet Draco’s. “And your ring,” she breathed in astonishment.
“Yes, so stay away from him,” Draco warned, glaring at her.
She nodded fervently. “I didn’t know,” she said.
Draco continued to glare at her.
“All right, Draco. I think she’s got the message,” Harry said dryly. “And you were right about
the rings,” he added.
That diverted Draco’s attention and he sent Harry a wry smirk. “I told you it wouldn’t take
them long to figure it out,” he said.
Blaise sniggered. “If Potter wasn’t going around half naked, it would’ve taken longer,” he
said.
“Yeah, yeah,” Harry said, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks.
Draco bent over and kissed him softly. “Are you ashamed of me, Harry?” he whispered
against Harry’s lips.
“No, of course not,” Harry said. He was simply feeling extremely flustered sitting with a
group of Slytherins and admitting just how attached he really was to the blond, while wearing
his pyjamas.
Draco was smirking widely in amusement when he pulled away. “Budge over, Harry, so I can
sit down.”
“Piss off, Draco,” Harry said. “I’m not stupid enough to let you sit on my bad side.”
Draco sniggered and sat down on Harry’s other side. “It was worth a try,” he said.
Winky popped up with a plate of food for Harry and he smiled as he stared down at it.
Everything she’d given him could be eaten with his fingers. “Thank you, Winky,” he said.
“You’re welcome, Master Harry,” she said, beaming a smile at him before disappearing
again.
“You’re no fun, Harry,” Draco drawled.
Harry grinned before popping a sausage into his mouth.
Daphne spoke up again, staring at them in fascination. “Is it always like this around here?”
she asked bemusedly.
“Oh no,” Draco said innocently. “This is a good day.”
Harry choked on his sausage and Draco smoothly handed him a goblet of water. “Here you
go, love,” he drawled.
Harry’s eyebrows rose as he swallowed hard. He gulped down the entire goblet of water in an
attempt to wash the food down without choking further.
“Even Potter’s wondering who the hell you are, Draco,” Blaise said wryly.
Draco rolled his eyes, and stood up. “I am Draco Malfoy,” he announced haughtily. He rested
a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “And this is my boyfriend, Harry Potter.”
“And this is my boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, when he’s on a power trip,” Harry muttered.
“Shut up, Harry,” Draco said calmly, dropping back down into the chair as the others
sniggered. “You’re ruining my reputation.”
Harry arched a brow. “Draco, you ruined your own bloody reputation,” he said.
“Yes, well, I reckon it was time for a new one anyway,” Draco admitted. “The other one was
developing a certain nastiness about it.”
“You think?” Harry asked sarcastically. “Your thugs couldn’t even stand being around you,
but that might be because you decided to dress them up as girls.” He paused, remembering
the stag night from the week before. “Oh, eww! I did not need those images blending
together.” He’d obviously been drinking too much at the time to have remembered that
connection.
Draco smirked evilly. “Ah, I believe I’ll retain certain portions of my old reputation,” he
drawled.
“Draco, you’re disgusting,” Harry said, wrinkling his nose.
“No, they were disgusting,” Draco corrected.
“But you’re sexy in a skirt,” he whispered in Harry’s ear, causing a shudder to ripple down
Harry’s spine.
Harry shoved him back. “Go play with your friends so I can eat.”
Draco simply laughed.
“You know, Draco,” Blaise said thoughtfully. “I haven’t seen you act like this for a long
time.”
The other Slytherins nodded in agreement. Most of them still seemed to be rather stunned. As
Harry went back to his breakfast, though, conversations slowly broke out over the room. It
occurred to him that many of the students, even though they were Slytherins, were probably
afraid of Draco.
He frowned thoughtfully at his boyfriend. He was being more light-hearted today, and Harry
finally realized that he was trying to help the others relax a little. He was also attempting to
give them an entirely different impression of him than the one they’d last seen. Draco was
still a leader, but he was leading a little bit differently now.
“What?” Draco asked warily, catching Harry’s eye.
Harry leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Love you,” he said simply.
Draco pulled back, startled. It wasn’t something they said to each other all that often, and he
certainly hadn’t been expecting to hear it at the moment. Draco gave him a slow grin, a quick
kiss, and then went back to his debate over reputations with Blaise and some of the others.
Harry shook his head in fond amusement and went back to his breakfast.
*****
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Notes

Chapter Forty-Five
“Hold still,” Draco ordered.
“You’ve got your hand down my trousers and you want me to hold still,” Harry muttered.
Draco paused for a moment. “Touché,” he drawled.
“Fuck, Draco,” Harry exclaimed in exasperation. “I’m just going to have to un-tuck the
bloody shirt again when I get to Hogwarts anyway.”
“You can’t wear a button-down and not tuck it in,” Draco said in a far too reasonable tone for
Harry’s tastes. “And you have to wear a button-down because of your shoulder.”
Heaving an impatient sigh, Harry gave up and stood still. “Are you going to dress me in the
hospital wing as well?” he asked sarcastically.
“If I need to,” Draco said. He glanced up at Harry through his lashes. “You should know by
now that you’re not going to win when it comes to clothing.”
Harry stuck his tongue out at him petulantly. Smiling, Draco shook his head and went back to
tucking Harry’s shirt in and refastening his trousers.
“There,” Draco said in satisfaction.
Harry rolled his eyes. Draco’s fascination with clothes irritated him at times, but he had to
admit that it felt damned good when Draco’s eyes were roaming over him the way that they
were at the moment.
“Why did I work so hard to get you into those clothes?” Draco asked.
Harry grinned, suddenly deciding it had been worth it. “Because you love me,” he said
smugly, sauntering to the door and knowing Draco’s eyes were following him.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Draco drawled. “It has nothing to do with those trousers hugging your arse.”
Harry laughed, his suspicions confirmed. He felt nervousness creep in, though, as they
approached the entry way where Remus and Severus were waiting, with Invisibility Cloaks in
hand. Why couldn’t anything ever be simple?
With Draco and Severus hidden under the cloaks, the group of four made their way to
Hogwarts.
*****
“Mr. Potter, what are you doing here?” Pomfrey exclaimed when he entered the hospital
wing. Remus had gone ahead to talk with McGonagall, with Severus. Draco was with him,
although still hidden by the cloak.
“I hurt my shoulder,” he admitted. He informed her what had been done for it the day before,
and how it hadn’t seemed to do a bit of good. She ran her scans and finally tsked at him
reprovingly.
“You should’ve come to me first thing, Harry,” she said. “This is going to be quite painful to
repair.”
Harry grimaced. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“You’ve dislocated your shoulder, but not in the manner usually thought of for that
condition,” she said. “Generally when a person dislocates their shoulder, they pull the arm
free of the socket. You, on the other hand, have jammed the bone into the socket. It will be
quite painful to pull it back into alignment. Then, the potions and salve will work for
healing.”
“Lovely,” Harry muttered sarcastically.
“I am going to have to place you in a body bind,” Pomfrey warned.
“What?!”
“I can not risk you moving while I bring the bones back into alignment,” she said briskly. She
bustled over to a supply cupboard and gathered up several items.
“Here, drink this,” she ordered when she returned to his bedside.
“What is it?” Harry asked warily.
“A strong pain reliever,” she said. She held a vial aloft for a moment. “This is a topical
anaesthetic. I’m going to rub it into your shoulder and it will also help ease the pain,” she
explained. “You’ll still feel it, but it will not be nearly as extreme.”
Harry wasn’t particularly reassured as she had him lie flat on the bed before binding him. He
had the feeling that he would be feeling more comfortable if she simply stunned him. Two
minutes later, when she jerked the bones back into alignment, he screamed.
“That’s the worst of it,” she reassured as she released him from the bindings and began
fastening a sling to support his arm.
Harry glared at her, panting heavily. He hated to think what that would’ve felt like without
the damned pain relievers. Even with them, he could feel the dull throbbing.
“You should be fine by tomorrow,” she said. “I’ll not attempt to keep you here, against my
better judgment. But you will take these potions this evening to help the healing process. No
strenuous activity, and keep movement of the shoulder to a bare minimum for the rest of the
day.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Harry sighed, accepting the potions from her and awkwardly stuffing them
into his pocket. “Thank you.”
She finally offered him a smile. “You’re welcome, Mr. Potter,” she said. “But do attempt to
stay out of trouble.”
*****
“Draco?” Harry whispered. Even his quiet voice seemed overly loud in the empty corridors.
“Where are you?”
The air shimmered beside him as Draco pulled back the hood of the cloak. Harry took in the
greenish cast to Draco’s pale face. “Are you all right?” he asked worriedly.
“I should’ve gone with Lupin, and Severus should’ve gone with you,” Draco said,
swallowing thickly.
Harry stared at him incredulously. “You’re feeling ill because of what I went through in
there?”
Draco gazed at him sheepishly. “Yeah,” he admitted.
Harry began laughing. He could afford to with the pain relievers Madam Pomfrey had given
him.
“Don’t laugh,” Draco said sullenly. “It was horrible seeing you in so much pain.”
Harry stopped himself. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’d feel horrible, too, if I had to watch you go
through something like that.”
Draco shuddered. “I’d probably die from the pain,” he said.
Harry turned his head so Draco wouldn’t see the huge grin on his face. Draco was such a
wimp when it came to pain.
“I thought I told you to quit laughing at me,” Draco said petulantly.
“Well, think of it this way,” Harry said. “You’ve done a brilliant job of cheering me up after I
had to go through that.”
“I hate you, Potter,” Draco grumbled.
“Hate you, too, Malfoy,” Harry said, grinning widely.
Draco glanced at him askance and sent him a half-smile in return.
As they neared the Headmaster’s office – Headmistress’, Harry attempted to force his mind
to accept the change – Draco covered himself fully with the cloak. The stone gargoyle was
already moved aside and they rode the staircase in silence.
“Mr. Potter,” McGonagall welcomed. “We’ve been waiting for you. How is your shoulder?”
“Um, I dislocated it,” he said. “It wasn’t exactly pleasant getting it set proper, but Madam
Pomfrey says it should be fine by tomorrow.”
He sat down in the chair offered.
“Remus informs me you are here to collect the sword,” she said, a look of disapproval on her
features. “You are aware I can not allow you to take it from the castle.”
“You’ll change your mind,” Harry said grimly.
“Mr. Potter, that sword is extremely valuable,” she insisted.
“I’m aware of that,” Harry said. “It’s Gryffindor’s sword and his only relic that is left in the
line. Voldemort’s also wanted it desperately for many, many years now.”
She blinked in astonishment. “Yes, well, it would appear you are even more aware than I am
of its importance,” she said.
Harry sucked in a deep breath. It was time to take the plunge. “I need it because we’ll be
fighting the final battle on Saturday,” he said. “Four days from now, I’m going to use the
sword to kill Nagini so that I can then kill Voldemort.”
McGonagall stared at him in stunned silence, and Harry plunged back in.
“I’ve been working towards this all summer,” he said. “I’ve had a lot more help than most
people have been aware of, though. I’ve been working with Severus. I’m living at
Grimmauld Place with him and the Malfoys. We’ve got the neutral Slytherins also sheltered
at Grimmauld Place now because Voldemort plans to Mark them, and we’re putting
everything in place for me to finally kill Voldemort on Saturday.”
“Harry!” Remus exclaimed. “Is it your intention to give the poor woman a heart attack?”
Harry smiled sheepishly. “Um, no. I just thought it’d be better to get it all out there at once,”
he said.
“Indeed,” Severus said dryly, sweeping the cloak aside.
“I reckon this means I can come out now as well,” Draco drawled, taking the cloak off and
perching on the edge of Harry’s chair.
Remus groaned in despair and poor McGonagall was gaping at them all in utter shock.
“Severus, my boy, it is a pleasure to see you.”
Harry froze, along with Severus and Draco. He slowly turned his head toward the newest
portrait on the wall. He’d avoided looking at it before now, but was drawn to it irresistibly in
his state of shock.
“Ah, and young Mr. Malfoy, I’m pleased to see you here,” Dumbledore said.
“It would appear you are doing well, Harry,” the portrait continued.
“And Remus, what a wonderful surprise to see you,” Dumbledore said jovially.
Harry felt like he was going to be ill. He glanced warily between Severus and Draco. Both of
them had gone pasty white. He reached blindly for Draco’s hand, squeezing it in reassurance
once he found it. He just didn’t know if it was in reassurance for himself or Draco. Draco
squeezed back and he decided that reassurance for both of them worked.
He was feeling dizzy and not remotely prepared for this.
“I would think some tea is in order, Minerva,” Dumbledore said gently.
“But Albus –” She cut herself off, seeming to decide against arguing with a portrait. She
conjured tea, and silence reigned as they obediently sipped, even Severus. Perhaps, especially
Severus, Harry thought. Severus looked far more shaken than any of them. It was disturbing
when the man was usually poised and in control.
Harry finished off his tea and set his cup down. Draco immediately grasped his hand again
and held it tightly. Draco was still perched on the edge of the chair and Harry looked at him
worriedly. He was starting to feel a little better himself, but Draco still looked terrible.
Deciding he didn’t care what McGonagall or Dumbledore thought, he abruptly stood and
pushed Draco into the chair before curling up on his lap. They could both use the comfort.
McGonagall gasped in shock, but Dumbledore’s portrait simply chuckled.
“Everyone. Out,” Severus said harshly.
“Severus, I can’t . . .” McGonagall was staring at Severus with a mixture of sympathy and
disapproval.
“Out,” he repeated.
“Professor McGonagall, leave him be,” Harry said softly. “Please.”
She studied Severus’ bowed head for long seconds, then studied Harry. “Very well,” she said.
“Harry, stay,” Severus said.
“Severus, I should go as well,” Harry said. He didn’t want to be here for this.
“Stay,” Severus commanded.
Harry looked to Draco and Remus helplessly, but they silently encouraged him to remain
with Severus. Draco looked relieved to be able to leave the room, even though he was still
eyeing Harry with concern. Remus said they’d be in the nearest classroom and they’d explain
everything to McGonagall.
Harry was suddenly left alone with Severus . . . and Dumbledore. “Severus, surely you don’t
want me here,” he said, trying one more time. “This should be private.”
Severus ignored him. The man had yet to sit down, but now he transfigured two of the chairs
into a couch and levitated it to face the portrait. He sat down and gestured for Harry to sit
down with him. Reluctantly, Harry obeyed.
“My dear boys, you don’t know how happy it makes me to see you here together,”
Dumbledore said.
Neither Harry nor Severus said anything in reply. Harry couldn’t figure out what he was
supposed to say to a man he’d helped kill, and thought Severus might be having the same
problem.
Dumbledore sighed. “Minerva has been kind enough to fill me in on events,” he said. “I am
aware that you are likely blaming yourselves for my death. I wonder if you have both,
perhaps, forgotten that I was an old man, yet at the same time quite capable of making my
own choices. I knew my death was near and I made the decisions I felt best.”
“You forced me, and a child, to contribute to your murder,” Severus said savagely.
Harry cringed into the cushions, as Severus abruptly stood. Where he had been subdued and
docile, now he was a man of extreme fury. Severus took out his wrath on the portrait,
spewing vile, despicable words full of anger and self-loathing.
For the first time, Harry heard it all from Severus’ point of view. He’d already guessed at
much of it, but hearing it, and hearing it in such a manner, was extremely difficult to endure.
Severus described everything from that fateful night of Dumbledore’s death.
His suspicions that Severus had attempted to save Flitwick, Hermione and Luna were
confirmed. He heard Severus’ utter fear for his godson that he’d felt unable to save. He
listened to the self-loathing at being forced into a position where he had to kill the only man
who’d ever had any faith in him. Severus’ rage came forth again at being called a coward by
Harry. Severus’ certainty that his life was over as he Apparated away from Hogwarts. His
sheer determination to see it through.
Harry curled into the corner of the couch, not sure if Severus even remembered he was there.
He felt like he was intruding, but didn’t dare attempt to leave and make a target out of
himself. Severus in a full rage was not someone to trifle with. Silent tears fell down Harry’s
cheeks as he could do nothing but helplessly watch and listen.
He relived the entire night from Severus’ perspective. Severus clearly had more he wanted to
say to Dumbledore, though, because Harry heard of many past conversations. He was forced
to listen in horror as Severus described his Death Eater duties. The constant fear and self-
loathing.
Severus eventually collapsed back onto the couch, sobs wracking his frame. Uncertainly,
Harry debated what he should do. He already felt lost in some alternate universe at seeing
Severus break down beyond recognition. He shifted closer and simply leaned against
Severus, offering silent comfort.
Harry glanced up at Dumbledore’s portrait. The man gave off the impression of a divine deity
at the moment, projecting a sense of serenity as he gazed down at them with kind concern.
Harry shuddered. It was just a portrait. They were making peace with a blasted portrait. There
was something disturbing about that, but . . . it felt right, nonetheless. Any peace was
welcome, no matter where it was found.
Dumbledore nodded at him approvingly, and Harry felt some of that peace wash over him. It
wasn’t always easy, but he was making the right choices.
Severus’ breathing began to calm. “I am sorry, Albus,” he whispered.
“There is no need to apologize to me, Severus,” Dumbledore said kindly. “I’m very proud of
you. I think you are searching for forgiveness from two others, and I do believe you’ve
already received forgiveness from Harry. You only need to forgive yourself now.”
Severus was silent for long seconds. “I have always considered myself a fast learner,” he
said. “But I believe Harry has learned many of your lessons much sooner than I have.”
“You have each had to learn different lessons for survival,” Dumbledore said. “I believe,
however, things are changing now.”
“Indeed,” Severus said, the dry humour creeping back into his voice. “If you will excuse me
for a few moments, I’m sure Harry has some things he would wish to speak to you about.”
Startled by the abrupt change in the atmosphere, Harry sat up straight only to be bemused by
Severus pausing to kiss his forehead before casting a Silencing Charm for him and
disappearing with a swirl of robes.
Dumbledore chuckled at Harry’s twisted expression. “You and Severus have come a long
way, indeed, over the last couple of months,” he said.
“Um, yeah,” Harry said, still staring at the doorway Severus had gone through. He assumed it
led into the private quarters of the Headmaster – Headmistress.
“Do you have the need to get some things off your chest as well?” Dumbledore asked kindly.
Harry exhaled heavily, looking back up at the portrait. He’d not wanted to face it. It was just
a reminder of Dumbledore’s death. Now, he felt rather stupid at having been scared of a
portrait. It was a reminder of the man’s life and all the good he’d done, particularly as
Headmaster of Hogwarts. All of the important lessons he’d imparted during his lifetime.
“No, I think I’m doing all right,” Harry said, and he meant the words sincerely. “I . . . I miss
you, though.” He glanced back at the doorway. “Severus misses you, too.”
“I believe you have discovered you can go to each other for advice in my absence,”
Dumbledore said, his eyes somehow twinkling even in portrait form. “The casting of the
Silencing Charm, however, leads me to believe that you have not shared everything with
Severus.”
“Um, no, I haven’t,” Harry admitted. Trying to ignore the oddity of discussing things with a
portrait, he explained everything he could in regards to the Horcruxes. Severus returned, his
composure and appearance back to normal, and he sat patiently waiting for Harry to finish.
“Harry, you’ve done very well, indeed,” Dumbledore said, pride lacing every word.
Harry felt his own flush of pride and pleasure at Dumbledore’s words. He dropped the
Silencing Charm and let Severus explain everything else.
Eventually, Harry and Severus went to meet up with the others. Severus paused at the bottom
of the revolving staircase.
“Thank you, Harry,” he said solemnly.
“Um, you’re welcome,” Harry said, not exactly sure what he’d done to deserve thanks.
Severus gave him a wry smile. “You’ve done a great deal to assist my sense of well-being
this summer,” he said.
Harry shrugged his free shoulder uncomfortably. “I haven’t really done anything,” he said.
Severus shook his head. “Come, child,” he said fondly, leading the way to the others.
Harry glanced back up the staircase. Severus had finally gained some true peace up there that
morning. He’d probably never be considered a nice man by most people’s standards, but
perhaps Severus would be able to finally function without that bitter self-loathing driving
him.
“Harry,” Severus called with a touch of impatience, rolling his eyes.
Harry grinned. “Coming, sir,” he said. Severus wouldn’t be Severus if he turned too nice, but
having a humane side was a welcome change.
They found Draco, Remus, and McGonagall, who all turned to stare at them nervously when
they entered the room. All three narrowed their eyes at Harry’s appearance.
“Don’t tell me, I look a nasty mess,” Harry said sarcastically.
Severus smirked in amusement. “Ah, I did forget to suggest that you clean up a bit,” he said
smoothly.
Harry rolled his eyes. “You just thought it’d be amusing to see their reactions,” he accused.
“Possibly,” Severus agreed.
Remus rubbed a hand down the side of his face. “Well, at least you two appear to be all
right,” he said with a mixture of resignation and relief.
As Severus went to talk with Remus and McGonagall, Draco pulled Harry aside to put him
back together.
“Merlin, Harry, you look a fright,” Draco said.
Harry stood still as Draco tucked his shirt back in, smoothed out his clothes, cleaned up his
face and cast glamours to hide his red eyes.
“Are you finished treating me like a five-year-old?” he asked in amusement.
Draco huffed at him. “You can’t do it yourself with your arm like that.”
Harry sniggered. “Draco, you try to dress me even when I’m quite capable of dressing
myself,” he said.
“Well, someone needs to teach you how to do it properly,” Draco said haughtily.
Harry shook his head. “Tell me again why I put up with you,” he said.
Draco gave him the kiss he was angling for, and Harry was reminded physically of why he
put up with Draco’s habits. Neither wanted it to go too far with three adults in the room, and
Harry rested his head comfortably on Draco’s shoulder, wrapped snugly in Draco’s arms.
“Severus looks . . . content,” Draco whispered. “What happened up there?”
Harry shifted to look over at the others. Severus didn’t look happy, considering the
seriousness of their conversation, but he did appear to be more content. There was a new
calmness about him that hadn’t been there before.
“I think, maybe, Severus has finally been able to forgive himself for everything that’s
happened,” Harry said softly. It was rather an ongoing process for Harry and surely would be
for Severus as well, but at least it was a start.
“Forgiveness isn’t an easy thing, is it?” Draco asked.
Harry pulled back enough to look at him. “Do you want to go up to the Astronomy Tower
with me?” he asked.
Draco’s eyes widened and he started to automatically shake his head until his eyes landed on
Severus. He stared at the man for long seconds before looking back at Harry and nodding.
“We’ll be back,” Harry announced, not offering any further explanation. Holding tightly onto
Draco’s hand, he pulled him out of the room. Draco deserved to feel some of the same peace
Harry and Severus were feeling, and Harry was determined to do what he could to give it to
him.
That meant a visit to the Astronomy Tower. Harry sat out on the steps and let Draco go on
alone, because that seemed to be what he wanted. Harry had expected to be more disturbed,
but he suspected nothing was likely to be quite as intense as listening to Severus rage and
break down.
Harry was up in an instant when Draco called his name. He wasn’t surprised to find Draco
crying or to suddenly end up with an armful of Draco. He ignored the discomfort of his
shoulder and held him tightly.
His eyes drifted around the tower and lingered on the spot where Dumbledore had fallen over
the edge. He swallowed heavily, but this time the tears didn’t come.
“I need to talk to Severus,” Draco choked out.
Harry simply nodded. He led Draco back downstairs and left him outside the classroom while
he went in to get Severus.
“Draco needs you,” he said quietly.
Severus looked at him sharply, but left the room immediately and without question. Harry
glanced at the doorway and hoped that Draco got the forgiveness from Severus he was
searching for.
“Harry, is everything all right?” Remus asked in concern, pulling Harry’s attention away from
the doorway.
Harry stared at him, before sitting down and leaning in for a hug. “Yeah, I think so,” he said
softly.
“Today has turned into a much-needed therapy session for the three of you, hasn’t it?” Remus
said.
Harry nodded. “Do wizards even have therapy?” he asked curiously. He didn’t know much,
but he’d read a bit about it when Uncle Vernon had threatened to send him to a shrink in the
hopes that it would help get rid of his “abnormality”. Aunt Petunia had talked him out of it,
saying a mental patient would be a taint on the family.
Remus chuckled. “You mean, in the form of psychiatrists?” he asked.
“Well, yeah,” Harry said.
“There is a branch of medi-wizardry that focuses on the mind,” Remus said. He paused.
“Although, I am not positive Severus is aware of their existence.”
McGonagall snorted softly in agreement.
Harry looked over at her. “Are you, um, all right with everything?” he asked nervously.
“Harry, I am quite dismayed at just how much you have chosen to take on yourself this
summer,” she said. “However, I am extremely proud of how much you have truly
accomplished.”
She glanced at the closed doorway. “And yes, I am grateful that you have managed to bring
Severus, and Mr. Malfoy, back to us,” she said.
“Severus was never gone,” Harry said.
McGonagall gazed at him thoughtfully. “You are quite correct, Harry, and it is best that I
remember that,” she said.
*****
Harry was startled walking back into the kitchen at Grimmauld Place. Although, how he
could’ve forgotten that it had been overrun by Slytherins was beyond his understanding. He
greeted Narcissa and allowed Draco to shove him into a chair when he hesitated.
Severus and Harry’s appearance caused silence to fall over the room. Severus smoothly
dismissed everyone but the usual group gathered around the table. When the Slytherin
students were gone, Harry looked across the table to meet Severus’ gaze.
“So, what now?” he asked. Training was out of the question with the condition his shoulder
was in, and he wasn’t sure what else could be done.
Severus grimaced, causing Harry to eye him warily. “As we now have the Minister’s and the
Headmistress’ support, perhaps it is time to gain the support of the Weasleys,” he said.
Harry’s eyes widened in alarm. They’d planned to do this later in the week. He’d known this
day would come, but he wasn’t prepared for it to happen now. He was not looking forward to
explaining things to Ron and Hermione.
“Would you rather wait to tell them when we tell the rest of the Order?” Severus asked
silkily.
“Um, no,” Harry admitted.
“We don’t have to go there, do we?” Draco asked.
“You will survive,” Severus informed him.
“Harry can’t even defend himself right now,” Draco tried again. “We should wait.”
“Harry will not need to defend himself against his own friends,” Severus pointed out.
“But he won’t be able to protect me from them,” Draco blurted out.
Harry stared at him incredulously for a moment before he began sniggering. He wrapped his
free arm around Draco’s waist. “I’ll find a way to protect you, love,” he said, still sniggering.
Draco glared at him, his cheeks flushed a light pink.
“Surely, Draco, I have taught you to defend yourself,” Lucius drawled.
“Yes, but do you really think Harry and Severus are going to let me attack the Weasleys?”
Draco asked, his voice rising.
Lucius tilted his head in acknowledgement. “That does put you in a slight predicament,” he
admitted.
Draco was beginning to look a little ill, and desperate. Harry wasn’t feeling much better than
Draco looked.
“Harry, send a message to the Weasleys informing them of a meeting this evening at seven
o’clock,” Severus said. “The two of you have a reprieve for the afternoon,” he said in
dismissal.
Draco left to go spend some time with the Slytherins, and Harry decided to go spend some
time with Victoria.
“Hey, pumpkin,” he greeted.
“Dada!” Victoria squealed happily.
Winky smiled and disappeared as Harry settled on the floor. He cuddled Victoria for a few
minutes until she squirmed to get away again. He’d stopped off to get Lissa before coming to
the nursery, and watched over Victoria as she played with the snake. Or, as the snake played
with her. Harry wasn’t quite sure which way it went, as Lissa seemed to take pleasure in
slithering around the little girl, changing colours as she went. He didn’t even have to provide
instruction anymore.
He smiled, watching their strange form of tag as Victoria crawled after the snake. He didn’t
know how long he sat there, but eventually it was obvious that Victoria was getting tired. He
hissed to Lissa, who then led Victoria back to him.
“Tired, Victoria?” he asked.
Her response was a big yawn, and Harry grinned. He got her changed, grateful she was tired
enough to cooperate since it was a lot more difficult with one arm in a sling. Winky seemed
to instinctively realize he needed a bottle, bringing him one even before he’d requested it. He
felt a brief moment of sadness that the house-elf probably knew Victoria’s schedule better
than anyone. He had to admit, though, that Winky did her best to take care of all of them.
He’d become accustomed to having a house-elf around, and it didn’t seem so bad to ask for
help now.
Harry settled into the rocking chair with Victoria, talking softly to her as she drank her bottle.
“I don’t know how I’m going to explain Winky to Hermione,” he said. “It sounds ridiculous,
but that’ll probably be almost as difficult as trying to explain your daddy and Severus and
your grandparents.”
The bottle popped out of her mouth. “Dada!” she said.
Harry smiled ruefully. “Yeah, Daddy,” he said. “Drink your milk, Victoria. I reckon you
won’t be drinking bottles like this much longer. I don’t really know when babies switch to
cups, but you’re already eating regular food. Mostly mushy stuff, but its still food.”
He shifted her, trying to ease the pressure on his shoulder. She was propped on his good arm,
but he’d still attempted to hold her with both and it wasn’t working all that well. It was a
good thing she could hold her bottle herself.
“I reckon I’m going to have to explain more about you, too,” he said in realization. “They
know about you, but they don’t know Draco’s your daddy.” His brow furrowed. “Or that I’m
kind of like your daddy.” He shook his head, still not quite used to that idea.
He realized she hadn’t responded to him saying “daddy” this time, and smiled at the eyes
drifting shut. She’d already sucked down all the milk. He managed to pluck the empty bottle
from her mouth and let it fall to the floor.
He glanced from her to his shoulder to her cot, and continued to rock her. He was still sitting
there thirty minutes later when Narcissa slipped quietly into the room.
“Stuck?” she asked.
Harry smiled ruefully. “I reckon I could’ve done it, or called for Winky, but . . .,” he trailed
off.
“There is an inherent pleasure in rocking a child,” Narcissa said in understanding. “Are you
ready for me to take her?”
Harry nodded. He stretched out his arm, feeling the unpleasant tingling as circulation was
restored, but otherwise didn’t move as he watched Narcissa transfer her granddaughter to the
cot.
“I used to sit and rock Draco for hours,” she said, her eyes lingering on Victoria.
Harry’s eyes widened marginally. He’d actually thought a lot about what he might’ve been
like as a baby, but not about Draco.
“You might be surprised,” Narcissa continued, “but I used to sneak down to the nursery at
night and I’d find Lucius rocking him. He would rarely hold Draco during the day, but under
the cover of night, he would sit and rock just as I would.”
Harry attempted to get a picture of Lucius Malfoy cuddling a baby in his mind, and couldn’t
quite manage it. He wasn’t sure that Lucius had even held Victoria.
Narcissa glanced at him knowingly. “Lucius has been in here to rock Victoria in the middle of
the night more than once,” she said.
Harry tried to wrap his mind around that. He realized that Lucius had probably come to see
Victoria the other night, not knowing that he’d find Harry already in the nursery. He thought
back to how Lucius had held him in the rather extreme circumstances at the Ministry, and
decided it seemed fitting to the man after all. He’d come to realize that he’d been guilty of
judging the Malfoys harshly over the years. With good reason, maybe, but . . . there was a lot
more to them than he’d ever expected.
Narcissa cast a charm so they wouldn’t wake Victoria and conjured another rocking chair to
sit beside Harry.
His thoughts shifted back to Draco. “Draco takes after both of you, doesn’t he?” he said.
“Yes, he does,” she said. “I’ve always been a little amused when I’ve heard Draco being
referred to as a carbon copy of his father.”
Harry winced. How many times had he said something like that over the years?
Narcissa smiled knowingly. “You’re seeing the Draco that I’ve always known,” she said. “I
don’t believe you were allowed to see him before this summer.”
“We weren’t exactly, uh, civil before,” Harry admitted. “All I ever saw was an obnoxious prat
that always made fun of me and my friends, and I never bothered to look past that. I wasn’t
very nice in return.”
“And you are afraid that this evening things will revert back to the childhood rivalries,” she
said.
“If Draco acts like he does around here, I think things’ll be all right. Eventually, anyway,”
Harry said. “But if Draco acts like he did at Hogwarts, well, I’m afraid to think about how
badly it’ll go.”
“Do you think you are perhaps underestimating Draco?” she asked.
Harry stared pensively at the floor. “I feel like I’m bound to lose at least one person tonight,”
he said. “I’ve been lying to my friends. They’ve never liked Draco. He’s never liked them.
Hell, Draco and Ron have hated each other from the time they were Victoria’s age, for all I
know.”
Narcissa grimaced, indicating Harry wasn’t that far off from the truth. “Yes, I do see how you
might have a bit to overcome,” she said.
Harry gaped at her before shaking his head. “That’s encouraging,” he said sarcastically.
She smiled at him. “I have faith in you, Harry,” she said.
Harry opened his mouth to retort, but then smiled ruefully instead. “Thanks,” he said. “It’s
good to know someone has faith that things will turn out all right.”
They continued to talk for awhile longer before she sent him off to find Draco.
Harry warily poked his head into the drawing room. He wasn’t all that surprised to see Draco
holding court. He was just happy that it seemed to be with a decent group of Slytherins. He
frowned when he realized that he still didn’t know why Crabbe and Goyle were there. They
were currently sitting by themselves on the far side of the room while everyone else listened
to some tale Draco was spinning.
Harry didn’t have to debate long. He left Draco to his limelight and went to sit with the two
large Slytherins. Maybe he could finally figure out why they were there. He approached them
warily, suddenly having more respect for Draco’s comments about needing protection. He
glanced back and met Draco’s gaze. Draco’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t stop telling his
story.
“So, can I sit here with you two?” Harry asked.
Crabbe and Goyle exchanged glances before nodding. Harry sat and the three of them
watched Draco and the others. It wasn’t exactly a comfortable silence.
“Does Draco do this often?” Harry asked.
Crabbe ignored him and asked a question of his own. “What do you want, Potter?” he asked
gruffly.
Harry turned slowly to face them fully. “I just want to know why you’re here,” he admitted.
“Because everyone thought we wanted to be Death Eaters?” Goyle said bitterly.
Harry frowned. “Um, didn’t you?” he couldn’t help asking.
Crabbe and Goyle exchanged glances again, leaving Harry with the distinct impression that
they had some silent code of communication.
“Snape said we’d probably have to tell you,” Crabbe admitted.
“He only said Potter would understand if we did tell him,” Goyle corrected.
“Tell me what?” Harry asked in confusion.

“We were Draco’s friends, Potter,” Crabbe said, with the same bitterness as Goyle. “We
would’ve done anything for him.”
“Even Polyjuice yourselves as girls,” Harry murmured.
They grimaced in disgust. “Yeah, and what appreciation did that get us?” Goyle asked
rhetorically. “Draco abandoned us the first chance he got.”
Harry stared at them in confusion, trying to understand. “Draco said you were –” he cut
himself off abruptly. It probably wasn’t wise to outright insult them. They were still twice his
size, he was injured, and there were two of them.
“Minions, lackeys, slaves?” Crabbe spat.
“Thugs?” Goyle suggested.
Harry winced, remembering that’s what he’d called them that morning.
“Look, Potter,” Crabbe said. “We didn’t mind being Draco’s bodyguards. We just didn’t think
he’d abandon us like he did.”
“He was your bodyguard as well,” Harry said in sudden understanding.
“Draco had more influence in Slytherin house than anyone,” Goyle said.
“Did you want to be Death Eaters?” Harry asked.
“No,” Crabbe said, shrugging. “It’s what Draco wanted.”
“So, you went along with him,” Harry muttered.
“Got a problem with going along with your friends?” Goyle asked angrily.
Harry gazed at him calmly and shook his head.
Goyle slumped back into his chair.
“You know, you had everyone convinced that you wanted to be Death Eaters,” Harry said.
“Not Snape,” Crabbe said proudly. “He knew we didn’t.”
Harry smiled faintly. Snape did seem to know his Slytherins. And, he realized, that was good
enough for him.
“Do you want to play a game of Exploding Snap or something?” he asked.
They stared at him blankly for long seconds. Harry summoned Winky and asked her to bring
them a deck. Crabbe and Goyle joined in the game without ever answering verbally. Harry
had the feeling that had just been a pretty long conversation for them.
He heard the whispering from the other side of the room but the three of them ignored it,
concentrating quietly on their game. Not that Exploding Snap was usually a quiet game, but it
was different and rather fun, Harry decided.
Awhile later, Draco came over and whispered in Harry’s ear. “Picking up more strays,
Harry?” he asked. He didn’t sound overly pleased.
Harry turned his head to glare at him. “Unless I’m misunderstanding things, I’ll warn you
now never to treat me the way that you’ve treated your friends,” he hissed.
Draco’s eyes widened in outrage, but then he shot a glance at his friends. “You’ll champion
any underdog, won’t you, Harry?” he said in disgust.
“Piss off, Draco,” Harry said. “You’re the one making an arse out of himself.”
Draco spun on his heel and stomped back to the other side of the room.
“That went well,” Harry muttered sarcastically.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Crabbe said quietly, gazing at Harry with a touch of awe.
Harry was a little alarmed. What the hell had he gotten himself into? He did not need hero
worship from Crabbe and Goyle.
“I didn’t do it for you,” he snapped, frustrated with the whole situation. He hadn’t meant to
get in a fight with Draco. Wasn’t Draco supposed to be the one sticking up for them? Right,
Draco wasn’t, and it seemed that somebody needed to.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “I just happen to agree with you that Draco should treat his own bloody
friends better.”
Bloody hell, he thought miserably, glancing up at them. Now they were blinking at him
stupidly, probably because he’d bothered to apologize to them. Hadn’t anyone ever treated
them nicely? He frowned, feeling sickened when he realized that it was quite possible that no
one ever had.
“Let’s just finish our game,” he said.
He played cards with them for the rest of the afternoon. Dinner wasn’t a pleasant affair with
everyone eyeing Harry and Draco warily. The adults had again taken their meal in the potions
room. When Severus returned to the kitchen, he eyed them all suspiciously.
“This should be a wonderful evening,” he sneered.
Harry and Draco shot glares at him, but neither said a word. Harry’s stomach was in knots.
He’d been worried enough before, but now with him and Draco fighting . . . it didn’t bode
well for the evening.
*****
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Notes

Chapter Forty-Six
“Harry!”
Harry stiffly subjected himself to the obligatory rounds of hugs and greetings when he and
Remus arrived at the Weasleys. Draco and Severus were there as well, hidden under the
Invisibility Cloaks. Harry gave his explanations for his shoulder, and eventually everyone
moved to the garden.
He had to grin when he saw the twins settling onto a blanket with their popcorn. He wasn’t
surprised when Ginny joined them. Everyone else selected comfortable chairs and soon
everyone was staring at Harry expectantly. He stood in front of them, trying to figure out
where to start.
“What’s this all about, Harry?” Ron asked curiously.
Harry glanced nervously at Remus and received an encouraging nod. Harry assumed it was
supposed to be encouraging, at any rate.
“I, um, have a lot to tell you,” he began. “This summer, I, well, I’ve been busy.”
Fred, George, and Ginny sniggered. Harry glared at them, not finding it funny anymore, but
their only response was to flip popcorn into their mouths.
“Oh, hell,” Harry muttered. “I reckon I should start at the beginning.”
“Always a good place to start, mate,” Fred said agreeably.
Harry shot him another glare, but it was as ineffective as the last one had been. Continuing to
glare at the twins and determined to shut them up, he calmly stated, “I’ve been working with
Severus almost all summer.”
He smirked victoriously when the twins and Ginny choked on their bloody popcorn.
Although, he couldn’t help watching to be sure they caught their breath again before looking
away.
“You’ve been working with Severus?” Mr. Weasley asked, blinking furiously. “Severus
Snape?”
“Um, yeah, that’d be the one,” Harry admitted.
“You mean, you’ve been studying his potions book all summer, right?” Hermione said, her
expression pleading with him to answer yes.
Harry shook his head. “No, I’ve been meeting with him at Grimmauld Place since the
beginning of July. Although he’d left a book about Occlumency for me a couple weeks
before that. We’re actually living there now.”
“Harry, he killed Dumbledore!” Ron shouted in outraged disbelief.
Harry sighed, running his free hand through his hair in frustration. “Ron, think,” he said.
“You know where I was with Dumbledore and what I did that night. Tell me, who really
killed him?”
Ron looked stricken and he paled dramatically, leaving his freckles standing out in stark
relief. Hermione looked the same, minus the freckles.
“Oh, Harry, I was afraid you’d think that,” Hermione said, clearly distressed. “It was Snape,
Harry.”
Harry looked at her with sudden insight. “You know it wasn’t Snape’s fault, don’t you?” he
asked.
“Harry, what he did was still wrong,” Hermione insisted.
“You’ve been trying to protect me, haven’t you?” Harry said. “If I’m blaming it all on Snape,
then I’m not blaming it on myself.”
Hermione’s face twisted, but she didn’t deny it. “If Snape was still on the Light side, he
would’ve come back to the Order before now,” she said.
Harry grinned. “He did. Who do you think warned me about the battles?”
“Ron, surely you didn’t think I came up with all those battle strategies myself?”
“Who do you think taught me the spell I used to heal you?” he asked Bill.
He turned to Charlie. “Don’t you think Snape knows enough spells that you could’ve been
hurt a lot worse than you were?” he asked.
Everyone’s eyes were wide as they processed everything Harry was telling them.
“Severus didn’t turn his back on the Order?” Mrs. Weasley asked, her voice strangled. “He’s
still been protecting you and the rest of the family?”
Harry nodded.
“But Harry, he did kill Dumbledore,” Bill said, glancing back and forth between Ron and
Hermione and Harry.
The trio exchanged glances, Harry pleading with Ron to understand.
“It wasn’t your fault!” Ron shouted, angry, and yet also sounding defensive.
“No, it wasn’t my fault,” Harry agreed. “Dumbledore forced me to do something I didn’t

want to do. Snape was put into the same position, but he was trapped even further by
Voldemort and Narcissa.”
“Narcissa?!” came the chorus of confused exclamations.
Harry sighed, knowing they were going to go round in circles to get to everything important.
“Yes, Narcissa,” he said. He quickly explained the Unbreakable Vow Severus had been
forced into to protect his spy status. He made sure to point out that he was also attempting to
protect his godson.
“Godson?!” came the next chorus.
“The greasy git is related to the ferret?” Ron asked, his face twisted into a horrible grimace as
he contemplated that.
Harry managed to both wince and snigger at the same time, and received a small shove from
an invisible Draco for his trouble. “Um, yeah, Severus is Draco’s godfather,” he said,
desperately attempting to school his features and not succeeding very well.
He received several confused glances, but the twins and Ginny were back to merrily tossing
popcorn into their mouths as they watched the proceedings avidly. He couldn’t help but think
they’d got over their surprise regarding Severus quickly, but then, they were rather used to
Harry’s surprises this summer and seemed to take in stride everything he threw at them. If
they trusted him with Draco, there was no reason not to trust him regarding Severus.
Hermione must have caught him looking at them. “You three knew about this, didn’t you?”
she accused.
“Um, no, actually we didn’t,” Ginny said. She glanced at Fred and George. “You two didn’t
know anything about Snape, did you?”
They shook their heads, but they were sporting wide grins.
“Nope, we only knew about Harry’s imaginary friend,” said Fred.
“And his mother,” George added, glancing mock-reprovingly at his forgetful twin.
“Imaginary friend?” Ron said, staring at his brothers in horror. “There really was an
imaginary friend? But there can’t be. Harry’s imaginary friend was a gorgeous blond, risking
his life everyday to save Harry,” he said, his voice rising with every word.
Harry shot an incredulous look at the twins. He hadn’t heard what stories they’d made up that
day in Godric’s Hollow. He listened with interest as Ron continued, wondering only absently
at the fact that Ron seemed to actually remember the stories the twins had made up.
“You told us Harry’s imaginary friend would do anything for him. That he was Harry’s hero,
because Harry needed to have a hero, too,” he said. “Grand tales about saving Harry from
boredom and making sure Harry’s head never got too big. You told us how his imaginary
friend had a tough job as a hero because Harry forgets to take care of himself, so he had to
save Harry from himself while Harry saved everyone else.”
Harry smiled softly. The bloody wankers had told the truth. Except that the gorgeous blond
wasn’t imaginary. He could feel the comfortable and familiar weight of Draco’s hand resting
in the small of his back.
Hermione’s eyes were narrowed. “Harry, what are you still not telling us?”
He looked up at the sky, pretending to think about it. “Oh, I’d say I’ve barely started
explaining everything about this summer,” he admitted.
“Barely started?” Ron choked out.
“Why don’t you start with whatever it is Fred and George and Ginny know?” Hermione
suggested irritably.
Harry exhaled heavily. “They know I’ve been working with Draco most of the summer, too,”
he said. “Longer than I’ve been working with Severus, actually.”
Jaws dropped.
“Malfoy?!” Ron bellowed.
“Um, yeah,” Harry said, tensing in anticipation of more yelling. However, most of the family
was still gaping at him in shock and couldn’t seem to find their voices. Mouths were moving,
but no sound was coming forth.
Ginny and the twins, though, were rolling with laughter at the sight of the rest of their family,
and Harry suddenly understood why they’d opted to sit on the ground. It kept them from
falling out of their chairs.
“Tell them the best part,” Fred gasped.
Harry felt the heat rise in his face, but plunged ahead. “Draco and I are, uh, going together,”
he admitted.
“He’s your boyfriend?!” Hermione shrieked, her eyes open so wide that they looked like they
might literally pop out of her head.
Her head whipped around to stare at Ron accusingly. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she shrieked.
“How would I have known this?!” Ron shouted.
“You two were being so secretive in the Chamber yesterday!” Hermione exclaimed. “You’re
the one who said Harry could see whoever he wanted!”
“Not Malfoy!” Ron roared in disgust. “I only found out Harry was seeing a bloke!”
Harry blinked. The way Ron had said that, it didn’t sound like Ron was recognizing that
Draco was a bloke.
“Harry’s gay?!” Hermione shouted in disbelief. “But he was seeing Ginny!”
“Harry’s bi-sexual,” Fred piped up helpfully.
“It means he likes both sexes,” George added.
“I know what it means!” Hermione snapped. She moaned in distress. “Oh, Harry, what does
this mean?”
“Uh, it means I’m seeing Draco,” Harry said, repeating the obvious. He cringed as he waited
for further explosions. “Victoria is his daughter,” he added.
Hermione looked like she was going to pass out, and Mrs. Weasley looked about the same.
Ron’s face was a brilliant red and Harry was positive that there was an explosion
forthcoming. Charlie looked like Ron, but more dangerous. Harry was abruptly reminded that
Charlie was a dragon handler, and the knowledge didn’t feel comfortable in his gut.
Mr. Weasley was blinking furiously as he attempted to take everything in. Bill didn’t look too
bad, Harry decided, simply frowning thoughtfully. Remus was gazing at him in sympathy.
The twins and Ginny were still having a grand time, tears of laughter rolling down their
cheeks.
Harry groaned. He looked up as Severus appeared beside him. “It was going fairly well until
I mentioned Draco,” he said miserably.
“Indeed,” Severus said, levelling a glare at the twins and Ginny, even though they’d stopped
laughing the instant he had taken off the cloak.
“Draco,” he commanded sharply.
Draco appeared on Harry’s right side, glaring at the twins. Harry had been feeling oddly good
about having his own personal hero, but was abruptly reminded that he and Draco were
fighting.
“Oh, don’t fucking start, Draco,” Harry snapped.
“Harry,” Severus warned. “We’ve got other things to do besides listen to you two argue.”
“Yeah, I’m supposed to convince everyone Draco’s not an evil bastard,” Harry said. “But
how am I supposed to do that when he’s being a fucking prat.”
“Me?!” Draco exclaimed. “You’re the one putting yourself in danger, consorting with the
enemy.”
“By playing a bloody card game?” Harry asked incredulously.
“You don’t know them like I do,” Draco snarled.
“You’re right, because I have the feeling you don’t fucking know them at all!” Harry shouted.
“Is this about Crabbe and Goyle?” Severus interjected.
“Yes!” they shouted, glaring daggers at each other.
They didn’t see Severus rolling his eyes. Or the commiserating glance from Remus. Or the
frozen group of people staring in utter shock at the spectacle before them. Or the gleeful grins
of the twins and Ginny as they quietly ate their popcorn.
“Harry, I presume you took the time to talk with them this afternoon?” Severus questioned.
Harry nodded.
“Draco, I presume that you haven’t taken the time to speak with them?” Severus asked.
“They want to be Death Eaters,” Draco spat.
“Fuck, Draco,” Harry said impatiently. “You are a bloody Death Eater and I still manage to
sleep with you. They don’t even have the Dark Mark. Don’t you think you could at least talk
to them?”
“Why should I?” Draco asked angrily. “They’ve been trained to hurt you, you bloody idiot.”
“You’re the bloody idiot that trained them,” Harry snapped. “But do you really think Severus
would’ve let them in the house in the first place if they intended to hurt me?”
Draco scowled at him, but he was listening.
“Look, from what I gathered, they could care less about being Death Eaters. They just want
to be like their bloody friend. The friend that treated them like shite and then abandoned
them,” Harry said pointedly. “Merlin knows why, but they look up to you.”
“Fucking hell, Harry,” Draco said irritably. “You’re going to make me champion the bloody
underdogs as well, aren’t you?”
“They’re your friends!” Harry protested. “They’re a bit slow, but they seem like nice enough
blokes. I don’t know why you’re such an obnoxious prick towards them. Besides, you’ve got
to take them back because Crabbe scared the fuck out of me when he looked at me as his
bloody saviour for actually sticking up for him.”
Draco sniggered. “They’re used to me protecting them,” he admitted.
“Exactly,” Harry said. “And then you abandoned them this summer. Severus had to save
them, and they’re disappointed because they’d truly thought they meant more to you.”
“Fucking hell,” Draco muttered. “All right, I’ll talk to them.”
“Are you quite finished?” Severus asked sardonically.
“Um, yeah,” Harry answered sheepishly.
“Why don’t you run along with your little friends while I speak with the adults?” Severus
said snidely.
Harry sneered at him. “Play nice, Severus,” he shot back.
“Go,” Severus ordered. “And no hexes, Draco,” he warned.
Draco rolled his eyes.
“I’m not sure whether I want to be considered one of the children or one of the adults,” Bill
said, finding his voice and his sense of humour.
Harry grinned.
The “children” trooped out to the field where they normally played Quidditch. Ron and
Hermione still appeared to be in shock, Ginny was carrying blankets which she spread out on
the ground for them, and the twins came bearing bottles of butterbeer and more popcorn.
They hadn’t sat down before Ron seemed to finally wake up and realize he didn’t want to be
civil to Draco. Before anyone was aware of what was happening, Ron had landed a punch
and the two were in each other’s faces.
“What the hell did you do to Harry?!” Ron bellowed angrily.
“Wouldn’t you like to know, weasel,” Draco said. His sneering words were punctuated by a
punch to Ron’s gut.
“Fucking ferret face!” Ron exploded, repaying the sentiment, along with a reciprocating
punch.
“Harry!” Hermione shrieked. “Aren’t you going to at least try to stop them?”
Harry shrugged his free shoulder. “No,” he said simply. Fred, George and Ginny were
looking to him for direction and stepped back at Harry’s answer.
“And why not?!”
“Because they’re both spoiling for it and I refuse to let either one of them stick me in the
middle,” Harry said. “If they’re lucky, maybe Severus will let me have some potions to heal
their arses with when they’re done.” He paused, frowning thoughtfully. “On second thought, I
probably won’t heal them, either. Then they’ll just fight over who I heal first.”
He nodded decisively. “They’re on their own,” he said firmly.
Ron and Draco had stopped to stare at Harry incredulously. Draco found his tongue first.
“You’re willing to leave me in pain? Give up sex until I heal?” he exclaimed in outrage.
That certainly didn’t help Ron find his voice as he choked.
“I don’t particularly want to give it up,” Harry admitted. “But then, I’m not the one trying to
actively disrupt our sex life.”
“Harry,” Draco whinged. “He’s a weasel.”
“So you keep insisting,” Harry said flatly.
“Harry, you’re not going to let him keep calling me that, are you?” Ron bellowed, just as
outraged as Draco as he finally found his voice.
“I don’t let Draco do anything,” Harry said dryly. “Much as I’d sometimes like to collar and
leash him, he’s not a pet.”
Ron, Draco, Hermione and Ginny all gaped at Harry in disbelief.
“Go, Harry!” Fred and George cheered in unison.
Harry gave them all an evil smirk. “I bet you’re all wondering if I actually meant that or not,”
he said.
They all nodded.
Harry’s smirk widened. “Too bad I’m not telling you then, eh?”
“Harry!” Draco exclaimed. “You need to take that back. Right now,” he insisted.
Harry blew him a kiss. “Sorry, love,” he said sweetly. “Can’t do that because it would ruin all
my fun.”
Draco’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I hate you,” he said.

“Come here and prove it,” Harry said, brow raised challengingly.
Draco stalked over to him and proceeded to devour Harry and attempt to suck his tongue out
of his mouth.
“What the bloody hell is going on?!” Ron shouted.
“Um, I think Harry lied to me,” Hermione admitted.
“About the collar and leash thing?” Ginny asked curiously.
“No, about not doing anything to break up the fight,” Hermione said ruefully.
Draco had obviously been listening to them because he suddenly pulled back and glared at
Harry. “Did you just play me?” he demanded.
Harry smiled innocently. “Would I do that?” he asked.
“Yes,” Draco said irritably.
“Oh, well, then maybe I did,” Harry smirked. He stood on his toes to whisper in Draco’s ear.
“I did tell you I’d do whatever I could to protect you.”
Draco huffed at him, gingerly touching his eye that was already swelling. “Yeah, great job
you did,” he grumbled.
“It could’ve been worse,” Harry said, unapologetic.
“The night’s not over yet,” Draco said sullenly.
A few things seemed to kick in place in Ron’s brain. “Oh, Merlin,” he breathed. “Bloke.
Safety. Couldn’t tell me. Harry, you’re seeing Malfoy!”
Draco sniggered, and Harry poked him. “Um, yeah, Ron, I am,” he said.
Ron suddenly dropped heavily to the ground. “I told you your boyfriend wouldn’t be in
danger just because you told me who it was. But you still wouldn’t tell me,” he said.
Harry sat down on one of the blankets and the others followed suit. Ron grimaced as he
watched Draco sit down warily next to Harry. “Your boyfriend,” he swallowed heavily, “was
in danger, wasn’t he? From me.”
“I didn’t know what you’d do if you found out,” Harry admitted. “I, uh, still don’t know what
you’re going to do. You’ve both always been so quick to turn me in . . . or simply turn on
me,” he added quietly.
Ron sighed in defeat. “I’m listening,” he said.
“Me, too,” Hermione said, determination in her voice and her expression.
“Merlin, Harry,” Draco said in disgust. “You know how to manipulate everyone, don’t you?”
“I’m not manipulating them,” Harry protested.
“Then why am I feeling guilty for wanting to smash Malfoy’s bloody face in?” Ron asked
sullenly.
Hermione smiled faintly, but didn’t say anything.
Harry ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He didn’t want to manipulate his friends. He
just wanted them to hear him out.
Draco rolled his eyes, as if he could hear Harry’s thoughts. “Just hurry up and start filling
them in. I already want to go home, and this is going to take fucking forever as it is. It’s
going to take even longer if you never get started.”
Hermione took a deep breath. “We’re listening, Harry,” she said. “Whatever you can tell us,
well, we’re listening.”
“Yeah, mate,” Ron said weakly, still looking rather disgusted with Draco’s presence.
Sighing, Harry started talking. This time, he did start at the very beginning of the summer,
and he left almost nothing out.
He did skip any references to the term Horcrux, much to Ron and Hermione’s relief. He also
skipped over any personal elements regarding his and Draco’s relationship, much to Ginny
and the twins’ disappointment. He left out any of the times he’d cried, due to his own
embarrassment. He left out a few things about Severus, not wanting Severus to murder him if
he revealed anything too personal.
He did leave in most everything else. He emphasized Draco and Severus’ roles in the battles.
He explained about Victoria fully. He glossed quickly over binding Winky. He showed the
rings he wore around his neck. He explained how Narcissa and Draco had ended up living
with him at the Dursleys. He mentioned the meetings with Snape. He described the situation
with the neutral Slytherins at Grimmauld Place.
He stumbled, however, with a few things that could technically be explained, and needed to
be explained in one way or another. He’d explain the fact that he was planning the final battle
later, with Severus’ help, but he still needed to explain Lucius. And that required admitting to
his best friends that he was a murderer.
He didn’t know how long he’d talked, but everyone had maintained complete silence. Even
Hermione had refrained from asking a single question. Hermione and Ron looked like they
were attempting to process everything. The twins and Ginny, as well, since much of what
he’d been describing, they hadn’t known before, either. Harry cast a sidelong glance at
Draco, who was frowning deeply.
“You left out a few things,” Draco said pointedly.
Harry rubbed at his temples, trying to ignore the stiffness of his shoulder. It was a lot better
than it had been, but wasn’t fully healed yet.
“Pomfrey said not to move your shoulder for the rest of the day,” Draco chided, batting
Harry’s hands down.
Harry glared at him irritably, not surprised when Draco dug out a Pain-Relieving Potion,
pulled the stopper and handed it to him. Harry drank it, not having much faith that it would
help. Sure, it might help his shoulder and his headache, but it wasn’t going to help him figure
out how to tell his friends that he was a killer.
“Lay down for a few minutes,” Draco ordered.
“No, I need to get this over with and I can’t afford to fall asleep now,” Harry said.
“I won’t let you fall asleep, but a break for a few minutes isn’t going to hurt you,” Draco said.
He narrowed his eyes. “Besides, I have the feeling you could use a few minutes to decide
how to explain everything else.”
Harry grimaced. He took the irritating sling off and lay down with his head in Draco’s lap. He
took a risk and glanced at Ron. Ron was grimacing, but there wasn’t much hatred in his gaze
as he stared at Draco. Harry had to admit, after everything he’d just revealed, Ron was surely
too shocked and confused to react properly.
He looked up at Draco, and winced, recognizing that Ron had managed to get out at least a
touch of his built-up anger. Draco’s eye was already bruising quite nicely.
“War wound,” Draco deadpanned, catching him looking.
Harry was startled into light laughter. “You’ve been quite brave,” he said.
Draco’s face twisted at that idea. “I’ll leave the bravery to you, thanks,” he said. “I’m just
here . . . well, I don’t know why I’m here.”
“You’re here because Harry can sucker you into anything,” Ginny said with a cheeky grin.
“I don’t remember asking for your opinion, Weaselette,” Draco said haughtily.
“Don’t call her that!” Ron shouted.
Harry and Ginny both started and exchanged glances. “Uh, Ginny, I forgot –” Harry tried to
figure out how to apologize for forgetting that it was an insulting name. He’d automatically
been translating it in his head or something, because he didn’t even notice it anymore when
Draco called her that. It was just . . . Draco.
“It’s all right,” Ginny said bemusedly, shrugging. “I forgot, too.”
“Forgot what?” Hermione asked sharply, eyeing Draco’s smug grin suspiciously.
“Forgot that Malfoy was insulting me,” Ginny admitted.
“How could you possibly forget?” Hermione shrieked.

Ginny smiled faintly. “Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I deserved it the first
time,” she said.
Harry groaned, sitting up and glancing at Draco warily. “You, uh, have forgiven me for that,
right?” he asked.
Draco rolled his eyes. “You know I have, Harry,” he said. He smirked at Ginny. “Doesn’t
mean I’ve forgiven Weaselette, though.”
Ginny grinned at him. “I don’t see why not, as you got action out of the deal,” she said. “And
obviously you can still play Harry and guilt him out of more action any time you want. I did
you a bloody favour, Malfoy.”
“I don’t let him guilt me!” Harry protested.
“Did you, or did you not, do something that you shouldn’t have with Weaselette?” Draco
asked, leaning in close to Harry.
“Draco,” Harry whinged. “You know it didn’t mean anything.”
Draco arched a brow. Harry kissed him. Draco pulled back with a smug smirk plastered on
his face.
“Wanker,” Harry said sullenly.
“So, see,” Ginny said in a reasonable tone, explaining things to Ron and Hermione, “I’m
doing Harry a favour by allowing Malfoy to call me that. He probably gets a snog out of the
deal almost every time.”
Ron and Hermione were gaping in stunned disbelief.
“You’ve all gone mad,” Ron breathed. He eyed Fred and George casually munching on their
popcorn. They grinned manically, and Ron shuddered.
“Hermione,” he pleaded. “Tell me this is all some nightmare.”
“It’s not,” Hermione said, sounding extremely uncertain. “I think it’s going to take me at least
a week to make sense out of all this.”
They didn’t have a week. Harry was abruptly reminded of the things he still had left to tell
them. “I’ve got some other things to tell you,” he said flatly. “But they’re things that you
can’t tell anyone,” he added, casting a warning glance at Ginny and the twins.
Brows furrowed in confusion, but they nodded. They’d been keeping Harry’s secrets, and
couldn’t understand what could be more important to keep secret than what he’d already told
them.
Harry glanced at Draco. “You don’t have to stay for this,” he said quietly, not sure Draco
would want to listen to him telling them about killing his aunt.
Draco glared at him for even suggesting that he leave. “I don’t care what you did,” he spat.
“You’re still you, Harry. You’re not evil, and you’ll never be like that fucking bastard. If your
friends can’t see that, then they don’t fucking deserve to call themselves your friends.”
“What have you done, Harry?” Hermione whispered fearfully.
Harry exhaled heavily. “I’m a murderer,” he blurted out.
Everyone but Draco jerked back in shock. Draco simply rolled his eyes. “Way to clarify
things, Harry,” he drawled sardonically.
“Well, I am,” Harry said defensively. “I killed Pettigrew and your aunt, and those men I’ve
yet to even figure out who they were.”
“You’ve killed Pettigrew?” Ron asked, his eyes wide.
“And Bellatrix?” Hermione added, blinking furiously.
Harry nodded and, his voice subdued, he began explaining how it had happened. Everything
about his trip to Azkaban and the battle at the Ministry. There was an uncomfortable silence
when he’d finished.
“You’ve brought Severus Snape, Peter Pettigrew and Lucius Malfoy into our flat?” Fred
asked bemusedly.
“Um, yeah,” Harry admitted warily.
“Well, that certainly beats anything we’ve ever done,” George said, sounding awed rather
than angry.
Draco was staring at Harry in bewilderment. “You took Father to the matching pair’s flat?”
he asked, stuck on the same issue as Fred.
“I didn’t have anywhere else to take him,” Harry said defensively. “I didn’t think you and
your mum would appreciate seeing him like he was, and it wasn’t like I could let him clean
up at the Manor.”
“Oh, Harry, you’re going to be in so much trouble,” Hermione said in distress.
“Kingsley already knows,” Harry said.
“You told Shacklebolt?” Hermione shrieked.
Harry stared at her. He didn’t think he’d ever heard her shriek so much in one day before.
“Well, no, Lucius did, actually,” he said. “I mostly just had to stick around to vouch for him.”
Hermione shook her head dazedly. “When was this?” she asked, attempting to make sense of
everything.
“Severus and I got Lucius out of Azkaban a week ago, the day before my birthday,” Harry
explained. “He was kind of my bodyguard for the wedding and he helped me in the battle at
the Ministry. Then, afterwards, he revealed himself to Kingsley. We had to explain how all
those Death Eaters ended up dead and then we needed Kingsley’s support for when it comes
to the final battle.”
He might as well get the rest of it out there. “The final battle will be in four days,” he said.
“That’s why we’re telling everyone now. I’m going to need everyone’s help.”
He was attempting to explain how that decision had come about when Charlie approached.
They looked up at him questioningly.
“Harry, I was sent to bring you back,” Charlie said. “I gather we have more late night guests
arriving,” he added, rolling his eyes.
“That should go over well,” Harry said sarcastically.
Charlie simply shrugged, waiting as they got to their feet. He approached Harry and Draco.
They tensed, not sure what to expect. Charlie had been extremely angry with Draco for what
he’d done to his family. They were surprised when Charlie stuck his hand out to Draco.
“Any friend of Harry’s is a friend of mine,” he said.
Eyes widened marginally, Draco cast a questioning glance at Harry. His expression clearly
said “What the fuck am I supposed to do?”
“Shake his hand, Draco,” Harry suggested quietly.
“He wanted to kill me!” Draco hissed.
“So did I,” Harry said, shrugging his free shoulder. “I got over the urge. Mostly,” he added
with a cheeky grin.
Draco sneered at him before facing Charlie again, who was still patiently holding his hand
out. Draco composed himself and shook Charlie’s hand, going so far as to bow his head once
in acknowledgement.
Harry thought maybe things might be all right after all.
He changed his mind when Remus brought back Lucius and Narcissa, leaving Winky to
“guard” the Slytherins for awhile.
Harry stared at the basket Narcissa was holding. Amongst other things, it contained several
bottles of wine.
“Narcissa,” Harry hissed. “They’re going to think you’re trying to poison them.”
“Harry, it’s only proper to bring your hosts a gift,” Narcissa said calmly.
Harry looked to Lucius pleadingly. “Lucius, couldn’t you stop her?” he asked.
Lucius smirked at him. “I was unable to dissuade her,” he drawled. “She was quite intent on
making a good impression for your sake.”
Harry turned to Draco, who was flushed a bright pink. “Don’t look at me,” Draco denied.
“You know damned well I didn’t have anything to do with this.”
Harry’s last hope, he turned to Severus. Severus simply arched a brow, and refused to say a
word.
All right, so, not his last hope. He turned to Remus. Remus smiled. “Good manners will not
hurt you,” he said in amusement.
Harry scowled at him before facing Narcissa again, very much aware of the Weasleys and
Hermione watching and listening in morbid fascination.
“Narcissa, I appreciate it. I really do,” he said. “I just don’t think that is the most appropriate
gift.”
“Harry, I am aware of the implications, considering Draco’s unfortunate choices in the past,”
Narcissa said calmly.
“Unfortunate choices?” Harry squeaked. “He almost killed Ron with that stunt. If it hadn’t
been for Severus’ bloody book, Ron would probably be dead.”
“Definitely unfortunate I didn’t succeed,” Draco muttered under his breath, gingerly touching
his black eye.
“Draco,” Narcissa admonished.
Harry whacked him on the side of the head, without otherwise turning his attention from
Narcissa.
“Narcissa, I know it was an accident, but the Weasleys don’t,” Harry pleaded.
“Yeah, I wasn’t actually trying to kill Weasley, unlike when you tried killing me,” Draco
sneered, rubbing the side of his head irritably. “Bloody abuser.”
“Bloody fuck, Draco, shut up!” Harry shouted. “You know I wasn’t trying to kill you
anymore than you were trying to kill Ron. And you’re not helping.”
“Oh, like you’re doing so great,” Draco retorted. “You’re not going to win against Mum so I
don’t know why you’re even trying.”
Harry looked back to her, exhaling heavily in exasperation.
“This is a traditional gift,” she said firmly. “I felt it best to continue with tradition and be up
front about what happened. This is an apology from the Malfoys as well as a gift from our
household to theirs.”
She gently urged him to take the basket. “Now, as the obvious link between our two
households, considering you belong to both, I believe it will be best if you present it to
them.”
“Is there some special way I’m supposed to present it?” Harry asked, his face twisting even
as he finally gave in to the inevitable.
Draco leaned over to whisper in his ear. “You just hold it out and bow to them, saying ‘From
our household to yours’,” he said.
Harry stared at him incredulously. “Bizarreness rating?” he asked.
“Oh, I think this definitely tips the scales,” Draco drawled in agreement.
“Narcissa, I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” Harry muttered.
“It will be good for you, Harry,” she said.
Harry glared at her, making it known that he didn’t agree. There was one thing clear to him.
He was not ever going to understand the method to Narcissa’s madness.
He took the basket to Mrs. Weasley. She stared back at him with an odd mixture of shock and
pride and he sighed. He attempted to ignore everyone else, feeling like a bloody idiot.
“Here, Mrs. Weasley, from, um, our household to yours,” he said. She took the basket from
him, shoved it into Arthur’s hands and then proceeded to smother him.
“Oh, Harry, I’m so proud of you,” she exclaimed. “You’ve had us so worried, and with good
cause it seems. I’m so relieved you’ve had others looking out for you this summer. But you
should’ve come to us sooner, Harry. I’m so glad you’re all right.”
“Let the poor boy go, Molly,” Arthur said.
“But he’s put himself in so much danger,” she said, hugging him tighter for a moment before
finally releasing him.
Harry looked skyward, avoiding everyone’s gaze. There’d been many strange events in his
life, but this entire evening had to rank as the strangest, or at least very close to it. Being told
he was a wizard had been strange. His name popping out of the Goblet of Fire and being the
fourth person in a three person tournament had been strange. Having Draco Malfoy, the
Death Eater, showing up at the Dursleys with a baby had been strange. There’d been many
strange events over the summer. But this . . . this ranked very, very high on the bizarre scale.
Bill declared that they needed to open up one of the bottles of wine and drink to new
alliances. Of course, even all the “children” were allowed a glass, except for Harry.
“Alcohol will interfere with the potions you’ve taken, Harry,” Severus said, plucking the
glass from his hands.
Harry glared sullenly. Everyone else seemed to feel they deserved a drink after the taxing
evening, but he was denied.
“That’s all right, Harry,” Ron said. “I’ll drink pumpkin juice with you.” He surprisingly
hadn’t said anything, but he was eyeing the glasses of wine with extreme wariness. Harry
couldn’t blame him.
“Yeah, all right,” he said.
He watched the others, most of whom were watching Narcissa and Lucius. After they’d taken
sips of the wine, and nothing dire occurred, the others drank tentatively.
They still needed to talk about the plans for the final battle, but no one was pushing the issue.
The garden was quiet as everyone appreciated the break to process everything they’d already
learned that evening. Severus looked a little impatient to get things started again, but even he
was waiting quietly.
Lucius sat next to Severus, cool and collected, but a wry smirk gracing his features let Harry
know he’d resigned himself to the situation. He was a political man who adapted as needed
and this meeting was necessary for his survival. Rather than being angry at being forced to
socialize with Weasleys, he’d clearly decided to be amused with the situation instead. Harry
couldn’t help but think that if Lucius had been a man for common forms of entertainment, he
would’ve had his own container of popcorn for this gathering.
Mr. Weasley sat across from him, looking unsure about how to handle the situation. He’d not
expected to be confronted with Lucius Malfoy, his enemy, in his garden. He wasn’t the type
to turn anyone away, though, particularly one who was an ally in such difficult times.
Remus sat with them and he struck up a quiet conversation regarding the war. Harry heard
Kingsley’s name mentioned and wondered if Remus was emphasizing Lucius’ involvement
in the battle at the Ministry. Certainly all four men suddenly glanced in Harry’s direction.
Narcissa appeared calm, unruffled, and as sophisticated as usual – and she was intimidating
most of the Weasleys without trying. In fact, she was attempting to ease the tension but her
gentle smiles seemed to just make everyone even more nervous.
Mrs. Weasley plucked up her courage. “You’ve been taking care of Harry this summer?” she
asked.
Harry’s eyes widened.
“As much as it has been possible,” Narcissa said, casting a warm smile in Harry’s direction.
“He is quite difficult to pin down at times.”
Although it was rather stilted, that launched their conversation.
“Is my mum bonding with Malfoy’s mum – about you?” Ron whispered.
“Um, I think so,” Harry said, sighing.

“We do appreciate you taking the pressure off of us, mate,” George said, grinning widely.
“You are the most difficult child in the family now, after all,” Fred agreed.
Harry scowled at them, simply causing them to laugh.
“You’ve really been living with the Malfoys?” Hermione asked Harry uncertainly, staring at
Draco.
Draco had somehow ended up sitting between the twins and he was currently nicking some
of their popcorn. Good to know common entertainment wasn’t beneath him, Harry thought
dryly.
“Harry’s head of the household,” Draco drawled before casually tossing up a piece of
popcorn and catching it in his mouth.
Hermione looked at a loss. Harry could tell she was overflowing with questions but she
couldn’t seem to figure out how to ask any of them.
“He just means that it’s my house because Sirius willed it to me,” Harry explained.
“No, I mean you’re the one in charge,” Draco said, smirking.
“I’m not the one in charge,” Harry protested. “Severus is.”
Draco arched a brow dubiously. “Well, he is the only one you’ll listen to – when you feel like
it,” he admitted.
“How . . . how is that possible?” Hermione asked, glancing to the other end of the table
where the adults were sitting.
Draco smirk was downright evil. “Severus and Lupin are Harry’s parents,” he drawled.
Harry groaned as his friends’ jaws dropped, yet again. Draco leaned back in his chair and
cheerfully popped a handful of popcorn into his mouth, mission accomplished.
“Snape and Lupin, together, are taking up the role of Harry’s parents?” Bill asked.
Draco nodded.
“Severus is going to kill you for telling them that,” Harry hissed.
“No, he won’t,” Draco said dismissively. “You’ll protect me.”
“Why should I?” Harry demanded.
“Because you’d miss having me in your bed,” Draco answered promptly.
Harry glared at him irritably, unable to come up with an argument against that point.
“So, new alliances,” Bill said with a knowing grin.

Harry flushed, remembering all too clearly that he’d declared in front of everyone at the party
that he’d been happily buggered senseless. He risked a glance at Draco, who was looking
positively smug.
“I gather there’s actually a different meaning for that snake on your back,” Charlie said dryly.
“Malfoy is Harry’s right hand man,” Fred agreed cheerfully.
Harry’s eyes widened, darting a worried glance at Ron. Ron did not look pleased.
“Harry, you want to go for a walk?” he asked abruptly.
Harry sighed. “Sure, mate,” he said.
He looked over at Draco as he got to his feet. Draco looked no happier now than Ron did, but
he didn’t say anything. Harry felt absolutely wretched. He’d known this moment would come
but he still didn’t want to lose his best friend.
“Harry, we will be discussing the plans for the battle shortly,” Severus warned.
“I’ll be back soon,” Harry promised. He didn’t think it would take long for Ron to tell him off
for being a lousy friend.
With wary and anxious eyes following them, he and Ron wandered back out to the field.
“I thought I was your best friend,” Ron blurted out suddenly.
“You are,” Harry said.
“But Malfoy’s suddenly your right hand man?” Ron mimicked angrily.
Harry didn’t know how to explain it. “Fred didn’t really mean anything by it,” he said
helplessly. “Draco’s just . . . he’s with me all the time. He’s my boyfriend, Ron.”
“And I’m just your best friend,” Ron said flatly.
“You’re not just my best friend,” Harry said, starting to get angry himself. “You’re important
to me, but so is Draco.”
“I don’t understand anything,” Ron said, shaking his head. “I don’t understand you. I don’t
understand Malfoy. I don’t understand Snape. I don’t understand any of the things you’ve
been doing.”
“I’m sorry,” Harry said miserably.
“What exactly are you sorry for?” Ron asked.
“I’m sorry I’ve lied to you so much this summer,” Harry said.
“But you’re not sorry you’re fucking the enemy,” Ron said bluntly.
“He’s not the enemy anymore, Ron,” Harry said, hoping like hell Ron would understand. “I
don’t expect you to like him, though. I know I’ve had a lot more time to get to know him.”
Ron snorted in disgust. “Yeah, I’ll bet,” he said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry demanded.
“It means Mr. Buggered You Senseless must be good in bed,” Ron said angrily. “Because
Merlin knows he’s not good for anything else.”
“Haven’t you been listening? He’s been helping me all fucking summer,” Harry snapped.
“How do I know anything you’ve said tonight is true, Harry?” Ron shouted. “You’ve already
admitted you’ve been lying about everything.”
“I’m telling the truth now!” Harry defended.
“I’ve listened,” Ron said. “I’ve sat here and listened all night. It’s so surreal that I don’t see
how any of it could be true. If he’s good in bed, it at least makes some kind of sense as to
why you’re with him.”
“It sounds like you’re trying to call him a fucking whore,” Harry said dangerously.
Ron snorted loudly. “Seems to have worked for him, hasn’t it?” he said in disgust.
Harry swung his fist without thought into Ron’s jaw. Ron stared in shock for only a half-
second before his own anger and frustration took priority. They spent the next five minutes
throwing punches, words unnecessary. They rolled and tumbled and Harry was losing, even
though it took him almost that full five minutes to realize it because he was so angry.
Eventually they were squared off against each other again, both breathing heavily, bruised up,
dirty and noses bleeding. And Harry was unconsciously cradling his right arm again.
“Hate Draco for all the fucking shite he has done, but don’t you fucking dare say anything
like that about him again,” Harry said coldly. He turned on his heel and began to walk away.
“What am I supposed to think, Harry?” Ron exclaimed. “Two months ago you were wanting
to bring him down. Now I’m supposed to believe you’ve fallen in love with him?”
Harry spun around to face him. “I know it’s a fucking lot to take in,” he said. “I know it
doesn’t make any bloody sense. But that’s how it is. I’ve been keeping Draco safe this
summer, but that doesn’t mean he’s providing sexual favours for my help. I can’t believe
you’d think I’d even agree to such an arrangement.”
“I don’t, really. This is just too much,” Ron said, his voice laced with a heavy dose of
confusion and frustration.
Harry bowed his head. “And I’m sorry for that,” he said quietly. He started walking again,
and Ron fell into step beside him. They trudged in silence. Harry couldn’t be positive, but he
had the feeling this was going to be one of those things that would have Hermione muttering
about stupid boys again.
He did feel rather stupid. He and Ron had never fought like that before. His step faltered. As
usual, though, the fists had flown when it came to Malfoy. Who was now Draco. He scuffed
his feet along the grass sullenly. Was it really his fault for getting things confused a little?
He certainly didn’t blame Ron for being even more confused than he was. He knew Ron was
trying, but it was too much to take in all at once. There wasn’t much point in saying anything
more until Ron had some time to at least get past the initial shock of it all.
By unspoken agreement, they circled around so that they were out of sight of the others until
they were only a few meters away, but eventually they had to reveal that they’d been fighting.
Draco and Hermione were the first to move. Even in his depressed mood, Harry found the
situation a little funny. For only a second, neither of them could seem to decide who to go to
first. Draco was surely debating between attacking Ron or seeing to Harry. Hermione
couldn’t seem to decide between her two best friends, but he had the feeling from the look on
her face that her thoughts were running more similar to Draco’s than Ron would be
comfortable knowing. Boyfriends won out after that brief second of indecision.
“What the fuck happened?” Draco demanded, his voice drowning out the surrounding shouts,
at least for Harry. Draco was clearly furious, but his hand was gentle as he tipped Harry’s
chin up so he could inspect his face.
Harry pulled away, angry with Ron for making him feel like his relationship was something
sordid. Draco did not take the action well. He froze for an instant before he turned and
launched himself at Ron, who was only a meter away. They went tumbling to the ground, and
this time Draco wasn’t holding back on his punches in the slightest. Neither was Ron.
The fight didn’t last long, though, as Severus grabbed the back of Draco’s robes and hauled
him to his feet, shoving him at Lucius. Ron’s anger had been instantly re-ignited and when he
tried to throw another punch, Bill and Charlie snagged his robes and jerked him back. Both of
them were struggling to get away so they could attack again.
“What the fuck did you do to him, Weasley?” Draco shouted furiously. “He’s supposed to be
your fucking best friend and you beat him up? Come on, Weasley, I’m right here. I’ll fight
you if it’s a fight you want, but no one fucking lays a hand on Harry and gets away with it,”
he shouted, still trying to get away from his father.
Harry knew other people were shouting, but he was focused solely on Draco. He desperately
wanted to make up for his momentary lapse of faith. Oblivious to everyone else, he put
himself in Draco’s space. He stared up at him and Draco stilled, his brow furrowed in a deep
scowl. Harry stood on tiptoe and placed a chaste kiss on Draco’s lips.
Lucius released him and Draco took hold of Harry, wrapping his arms around him and
holding him close. Draco was shaking, and Harry was positive he was still absolutely livid
with Ron.
“Draco, calm down,” Harry murmured. “It’s all right.”
“It’s not all right,” Draco snarled. “He fucking hurt you.”
“I hit him first, love,” Harry said.
“I’m sure he fucking deserved it,” Draco spat.
Fuck this, Harry thought. Blood and injuries or not, there was one sure-fire way of calming
Draco down. He grasped the back of Draco’s head and pulled him down for a kiss. There was
the coppery taste of his own blood, but there was also the taste of Draco flooding him with
warmth, calm, and reassurance.
There was something savage about the kiss with the blood and the way they ravaged each
other’s mouths, releasing their frustration. Draco broke the kiss and dropped his forehead to
Harry’s, breathing heavily. Harry was heaving great quantities of air into his lungs. It hadn’t
been easy to breathe with the condition his nose was currently in.
“Perhaps we could attend to Harry’s injuries now,” Severus sneered.
Harry reluctantly pulled away from Draco, not wanting to face everyone. Not wanting to deal
with anything more. He was surprised when he saw Madam Pomfrey, wondering how she’d
been fetched from Hogwarts so quickly. Although, she looked far more shocked than him.
The day before, Severus had given McGonagall permission to tell Pomfrey about himself and
the Malfoys, but the reality of seeing them – at the Weasleys, of all places – was obviously
still surprising.
She regained her professional manner quickly, and ordered Harry to sit in a nearby chair.
Harry obeyed numbly, not paying any attention as she looked him over. Instead, he glanced
around the garden, trying to figure out what was happening.
Mrs. Weasley had Ron cornered and he was on the receiving end of a severe tongue-lashing.
He didn’t seem to be paying much attention to her, though, as his eyes kept straying to Draco,
appraising him. Ron met Harry’s gaze briefly before ducking his head.
Draco was involved in an argument with Severus, even as Narcissa worked to clean him up
and heal his injuries. Severus was surely furious with Draco for starting another fight and
Harry would likely be getting his own lecture soon. Lucius was talking with Remus and Mr.
Weasley, all three of them looking disappointed. Lucius hid his disappointment better, but
Harry understood why Lucius was assessing his son in that cool manner. As Harry watched,
Bill and Charlie joined them.
Ginny was arguing with Hermione and Harry was afraid to guess what they might be fighting
about. If Ginny was defending Draco’s actions, then it meant things didn’t bode well for him
with Hermione. He couldn’t blame Hermione for being upset, though. Draco had attacked her
boyfriend and it wasn’t like they had a great history. Fred and George were sitting back in the
shadows, once again munching on their popcorn as they watched all the interaction.
“Mr. Potter, you need rest,” Madam Pomfrey said sternly, pulling his attention back to her.
“As I’m sure you’ve already realized, you’ve re-injured your shoulder. I’ve healed your other
wounds, but you must rest your shoulder and limit motion for it to heal.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, sighing heavily. Severus was not going to be happy. Things had been
going relatively well, all things considered, until he’d fought with Ron. Madam Pomfrey
moved on to heal Ron, and Severus and Draco approached.
“You all right?” Draco asked, eyeing Harry’s arm back in the sling. He bent over and brushed
his lips gently across Harry’s. As he stood back up, he took Harry’s free hand in his,
squeezing it in reassurance.
Harry stared up at Severus, who was glaring furiously.
“Let me guess,” Severus sneered. “You are unable to use your arm tomorrow as well. You
have plans to kill off the most powerful wizard in the world in four days, but can’t do any of
your training because you decided to get into a petty fight with your friends.”
Severus’ voice had gone colder with each word spoken. Harry’s anger grew with each word.
“There are still things you need to learn before Saturday. All of your efforts will not be
enough until the Dark Lord is gone,” Severus added, his voice icy cold.
Harry flinched, painfully stung. “Fuck you, Severus!” he shouted, letting go of Draco’s hand
and jumping to his feet. “I’m doing my fucking best and you know it. I’m sorry it’s still not
good enough and I’m sorry I forgot for a few bloody minutes that my life revolves around
Voldemort.”
Severus’ fury eased into visible weariness. “Harry.”
“No!” Harry shouted. “Just leave me the fuck alone.” He spun on his heel to walk away but
didn’t get two steps before Severus commanded him to stop.
“What?” he ground out, not turning to face Severus again.
“Come here, child,” Severus said quietly.
Harry turned around warily, irritated that Severus had a new way of capturing his attention so
effectively. How was he supposed to argue when Severus sounded nice? Severus stepped up
to him, resting a hand on Harry’s good shoulder. He leaned his head down so that he could
speak softly without the others hearing him.
“You should not have been fighting,” Severus said evenly.
Scowling, and feeling like he’d been lured into a trap, Harry tried to jerk away but Severus
kept a tight grip on his shoulder.
“However,” Severus continued. “I should be aware by now that your defence of others is not
limited to the defeat of Dark Lords.”
“But that’s the point, isn’t it?” Harry said bitterly. “I’m supposed to be just worrying about
Voldemort.”
“That is what I have believed,” Severus agreed, but his tone was thoughtful.
Harry’s brow furrowed in confusion as Severus lifted the rings off his chest, examining them.
“I have come to believe, however, that Dumbledore was correct in his assessment,” Severus
murmured. “You have more power in that heart of yours than I will ever truly understand.”
Harry stared at him blankly. “Severus, are you feeling all right?” he asked, beginning to feel
worried.
Severus’ lips turned up at the edges as he released the rings. “Yes, Harry, I am fine,” he said
dryly. “Tell me, who were you defending when you fought Weasley?”
Harry’s gaze automatically went to Draco, who was standing at a safe distance but observing
with narrowed eyes.
“Ah,” Severus said, sounding vaguely amused but not surprised.
His gaze grew in intensity as he locked eyes with Harry. “You fight with your heart, Harry,”
he said.
“I don’t know how to do anything else,” Harry said defensively.
“And that would be the ‘power the Dark Lord knows not’,” Severus said softly. “I have
criticized and belittled you for wearing your heart on your sleeve, yet it is your compassion
for others that has brought together the allies and resources you need to defeat the Dark Lord.
Certainly there is no one else who would be able to bring the Malfoys and Weasleys
together.”
Harry stared for long seconds before shrugging Severus’ hand off his shoulder and wrapping
his arm around him, hugging tightly.
“Potter, simply because I am beginning to understand the far-reaching effects regarding the
fact that you wear your heart on your sleeve, it does not mean I wish to do so,” Severus said.
Despite his words, he was hugging Harry back, albeit carefully due to Harry’s injuries and
stiffly in consideration of their audience.
Harry smiled into Severus’ robes. “If a show of manners isn’t going to hurt me, then a hug
isn’t going to hurt you,” he said.
Severus pushed him back. “Cheeky little brat,” he muttered.
Harry grinned at him. “Don’t worry,” he whispered conspiratorially. “I won’t tell anyone
you’ve actually got a heart.”
Severus narrowed his eyes.
Laughing, Harry danced out of reach. He stopped as he caught sight of everyone else. The
Malfoys and Remus didn’t look too surprised, but the Weasleys, Hermione and Pomfrey were
staring in astonishment. Ron was the one he was most worried about, but Harry wasn’t sure
how to interpret his expression.
Draco came up behind him, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist. It was a blatant display
on Draco’s part, claiming Harry as his own. Harry wasn’t sure what to make of the fact that
Ron’s expression didn’t change. He was still conveying that same sense of concentration and
deliberation that he normally directed at a chess board.
“Go home and rest,” Severus ordered. “Take Draco with you and I will finish explaining the
plans for Saturday.”
Harry nodded reluctantly. He’d had enough for one day, but he didn’t like leaving things this
way. Draco’s arms tightened around him and they disappeared.
*****
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Notes

Chapter Forty-Seven
When Harry woke up, his shoulder was throbbing but the throbbing in his cock was a far
more pleasant sensation to focus on. He shifted a little to look down and groaned, not entirely
in pleasure.
Draco hummed his amusement around his mouthful of Harry’s cock and Harry inhaled
sharply. “Merlin, Draco,” he breathed. “Are you trying to kill me by pain or pleasure this
morning?”
Without removing his mouth from his chosen task, Draco held up his closed fist to Harry,
indicating he had something to give him. Confused, Harry held his hand underneath and
Draco dropped a Pain-Relieving Potion into his palm. Harry didn’t know why his shoulder
still wasn’t healed properly – he had rested finally – but he wasn’t going to worry about it at
the moment.
He grinned. “Ah, I get double the pleasure today,” he said, quickly downing the potion.
And then Draco’s mouth dropped down all the way on him. “Oh gods,” Harry groaned,
falling back onto his pillow and not giving a damn that his shoulder was still aching. The
ache building in his groin required much more attention. He didn’t want this to end.
When the hell had Draco learned how to do that? Harry was quickly deciding that he needed
to pay more respect to Draco’s tongue. It was doing incredible things to his cock. He
awkwardly pulled another pillow under his head so he could see.
His eyes widened to see Draco’s lips tight around his cock and his cheeks hollowed as he
sucked. “Fuck,” Harry panted.
Draco was straddling Harry’s leg and unashamedly rubbing himself off. His hand glided over
Harry’s balls, squeezed gently, then slid further down. Draco’s fingers feathering across his
entrance, the brilliant sucking, the sight of it all. Harry was coming before he’d given himself
permission. His eyes squeezed shut without conscious thought as he rode out the waves of his
climax.
His eyes were heavy-lidded as he watched Draco finish jerking himself off, his eyes on
Harry. “Gods, you’re gorgeous,” Harry murmured.
Draco whimpered, his hand moving faster before he came, shooting the pearly streams over
Harry’s stomach and chest. Draco sat back on his heels as he attempted to catch his breath.
Harry gave him a lopsided smile, before looking at his stomach. “You do enjoy coming on
me, don’t you?” he said wryly, swirling his fingers through the sticky stuff.
Draco shrugged, but he was smiling as he reached for his wand to clean them up. “You know
you enjoy it, too,” he drawled.
“Yeah, I do,” Harry agreed, not even pretending to deny it. “I love watching you.”
Draco flashed him a brilliant smile, before slapping his thigh. “Come on, we need to shower
and we should probably go see what’s going on,” he said.
Harry groaned. “Draco, I don’t want to leave our room,” he whinged. “Disasters happen
when I do.”
Draco was laughing as he dragged Harry out of bed. Harry followed Draco to the bathroom,
but he continued with his line of thought.
“The house is overrun by Slytherins. That surely can’t be a good thing for me,” he said. “And
Severus will probably be down there. And maybe evil letters from my friends.” He frowned.
“Assuming they’re still my friends.”
Draco slapped him on the arse this time, making Harry yelp. “Get in the bloody shower,” he
drawled, “and quit worrying.”
*****
“Why is my shoulder still hurting?” Harry asked abruptly in the middle of breakfast.
“Because you’re not normal,” Draco answered promptly.

Harry shot a glare in his direction as the Slytherins sniggered. “You’re my boyfriend so
you’re supposed to be sympathetic,” he said.
Draco arched a brow. “Am I?”
“Yes,” Harry said sullenly.
Draco rolled his eyes, giving Harry a kiss on the cheek. “I don’t know why your shoulder
hasn’t healed yet,” he said dutifully.
“Maybe it’s because you’re not supposed to be getting into fights when you’re already
injured,” Blaise said dryly.
“You should’ve let us fight him for you,” Crabbe spoke up.
Harry’s face twisted. Draco choked on his toast.
“We still can,” Goyle offered.
Harry choked on the air he was breathing. “Erm, that’s really not necessary,” he managed to
say.
They looked disappointed but shrugged and went back to their food.
Harry looked at Draco pleadingly.
Draco was attempting to swallow his laughter, his eyes sparkling wildly in amusement.
“After breakfast, Draco,” Harry insisted. Draco simply had to talk to them.
Draco put on a mask of indecision.
“Draco!”
“All right, all right,” Draco said, laughing.
Blaise leaned over to whisper in his ear. “No matter what he says to them, they’re yours
now.”
“No,” Harry protested.
“Yes,” Blaise countered, smirking.
Harry slumped in his chair. They were people. They didn’t belong to anyone, least of all him.
He glanced across the table to the two hulking Slytherins and sighed. Hero worship was
probably better than being beaten to a bloody pulp, but he considered the topic debatable.
He caught Daphne’s eye, who was gazing at him knowingly, understanding the conversation
between him, Draco, and Blaise. “Watch them,” she mouthed.
Harry stared at her curiously, but she nodded her head towards Crabbe and Goyle. He didn’t
get what she was driving at. He looked at them but didn’t see anything unusual.
“Has anyone heard from Pansy lately?” Daphne asked innocently.
Harry saw the shudders that Crabbe and Goyle only managed to partially hide. He frowned at
Daphne. She just gave him a sad smile before turning to the girl on the other side of her who
was actually answering the question.
“Let’s go ask Severus about your shoulder,” Draco said abruptly, pulling Harry up.
They stopped in the short hallway between the kitchen and the potions room.
“What was that all about?” Harry demanded.
“Pansy’s a cruel bitch,” Draco said. “She’d use Crabbe and Goyle to test hexes or just to take
out her frustration.”
“And you let her?” Harry exclaimed.
Draco’s face went suspiciously blank.
“You joined her,” Harry said in sudden understanding.
“I didn’t do it all the time,” Draco snapped defensively. “I protected them when I could, but
we lived in the Slytherin dungeons where half of them wanted to be Death Eaters.”
“Where you were the Death Eater,” Harry said flatly, leaning back against the wall.
“A certain amount of cruelty is expected or you don’t survive,” Draco said stiffly. “I wouldn’t
be standing here if I’d always treated them nicely.”
Harry rubbed his temples, trying to figure out what to say. He hated this side of Draco, but it
wasn’t like it was news to him. Draco’s cruelty had been directed at him for years. But that at
least made sense. They’d been enemies. Being cruel to your friends – he just didn’t
understand it.
He realized he should’ve clued in to the fact that Draco didn’t really consider them friends,
though, since he still called them by their last names. He remembered being Polyjuiced as
Goyle. Even alone with them, Draco had called them Crabbe and Goyle.
It was ironic that they’d been living at the centre of a war and yet Harry suddenly felt like
they’d been living in a bubble. Odd, that. Hogwarts felt like the real world, far distant from
where they were currently, but it was creeping back into their lives as they met up with the
other students.
“You’re going to talk to them, right?” he said quietly.
“I’ve said I would, haven’t I?” Draco snapped.

“All right,” Harry said.
“That’s it?” Draco asked suspiciously.
“I’ve chosen a boyfriend who wanted to be a Death Eater,” Harry said dryly. “It’s not all that
surprising to learn that you’ve been out kicking puppies, or lapdogs, as the case may be. I’d
be more shocked to learn you were out petting kittens.”
Draco gaped at him. “Kittens?”
“Yes, they’re cute, little, cuddly creatures,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. “It’s rather the
puppies I’m worried about at the moment.” He grimaced. “I’d really prefer it if you took back
their care, but held off on the kicking.”
“Harry, you’re odd,” Draco said succinctly.
“Thank you,” Harry said, giving him a flat stare. “Can I go see if Severus can figure out my
shoulder now?”
Draco frowned at his attitude. “What’s wrong?” he asked. He put his hands on the wall on
either side of Harry, trapping him.
Harry went back to rubbing his temples. “Draco, I may very well have lost my best friends.
I’ve gained two of your friends by defending them from you. I’ve been reminded that you
and I have really different value systems. Yet I’ve done far worse things than you, so I have
no room to talk. My shoulder is entirely fucked up and I don’t understand why. I have no idea
what I have to do today because Severus keeps changing the plans on me. I’ve a Dark Lord I
have to kill off in a few days. And I’m surrounded by bloody Slytherins.”
Draco arched a brow. “Is that all?”
“You asked,” Harry muttered.
Draco nudged Harry’s right hand with his nose, placing a soft kiss on his temple when Harry
dropped his hand to his side. He then did the same with Harry’s left hand. Harry closed his
eyes and leaned his head back against the wall as Draco continued to place gentle kisses, his
warm breath ghosting over Harry’s cheeks. Harry blindly reached for Draco’s hips, pulling
him closer, as Draco’s lips brushed over his own in a teasing kiss.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Draco whispered.
One hand moved from the wall, smoothing over Harry’s chest and fingers catching the rings
hidden under the shirt, drawing attention to them even as they kissed. A promise. Draco
would still be there even when everything in Harry’s life turned upside-down, inside-out and
backwards. The reminder warmed him and the kisses simply intensified the feeling of being
loved, despite everything.
They were snogging pleasantly when the door to the potions room opened.
“Why, do I dare ask, are the two of you not in the kitchen eating breakfast?” Severus asked.
“Because I used to kick puppies and because Harry needs you to look at his shoulder,” Draco
answered easily.
Harry laughed lightly as Severus gazed at them impassively.
“Clearly I should not have questioned,” Severus said.
Harry gave Draco a quick, grateful kiss before shoving him away. “I really do need you to
look at my shoulder,” he said. “Madam Pomfrey told me that I have to rest to get things to
heal properly, but I slept last night. Shouldn’t it be healed now? It feels better than it did
yesterday morning, but it’s certainly not completely healed.”
“Harry, what makes you believe that one decent night of rest is enough to make up for the
stress you’ve put your body through over the last month?” Severus asked silkily.
“But everything else has healed,” Harry protested. “Even my head healed with just a few
hours of sleep.”
“Debatable,” Draco muttered, smiling innocently when Harry shot him an irritated glare.
“Even magic is incapable of correcting stupidity,” Severus said smoothly.
Harry sighed. He’d known that he hadn’t wanted to face Severus this morning. “So, what am
I not understanding?” he asked in resignation.
Severus relented. “I believe you have experience with allowing time for bones to re-grow?”
“Yeah,” Harry said, wincing. “But what does that have to do with anything?”
“Madam Pomfrey has informed me that you’ve done a great deal of tendon and muscle
damage when you dislocated your shoulder,” Severus said. “The simple explanation is that
you need to re-grow those connections. It takes time. Time that you have not allowed.”
“But I rested overnight,” Harry protested.
“After undoing all healing progress that had been made and, indeed, making it worse,”
Severus said.
Harry slumped dejectedly, annoyed when the movement aggravated his shoulder.
Severus gazed at him knowingly. “The shoulder is the most mobile joint in the human body,”
he explained. “You continue to work your shoulder when you should be limiting motion.
Even in sleep. The extra stress your body has been under also has an impact on the healing
time. The constant use of the Pain-Relieving Potions, while understandable, gives you the
false sensation of healing and you hinder the progress by moving the joint more than is
healthy.”
“What do I have to do to get it to heal, then?” Harry asked.

“In addition to the healing potions you’ve been taking, the usual remedy would be a bare
minimum of eight hours of Dreamless Sleep and complete immobilization of the joint,”
Severus said.
Harry started shaking his head even before Severus had finished speaking. “I can’t do that,”
he said. “Not again. And I can’t stop doing everything just because my shoulder aches. And
what if something were to happen and my wand arm was immobilized?”
“I’m aware of that,” Severus said dryly. “Hence, you have to face a slower healing time and
you need to keep movement of your shoulder to a minimum. Starting a bout of fisticuffs was
not your best solution to the problem.”
“All right, I got it,” Harry muttered. “So, if I can manage to behave today, then we’ll work on
my training tomorrow?”
“There are certain spells I wish you to master before Saturday,” Severus agreed, a warning in
his voice. Harry heard the message – behave or you risk killing us all.
“So, what do I have to do today?” he asked. The morning had already had its moments, but
he knew from experience that the day had barely begun.
“You will be calling an Order meeting,” Severus said calmly.
Harry groaned, wishing he hadn’t asked, as if that would’ve prevented it. Severus ignored
him.
“We have the support of Kingsley, Minerva, and the Weasleys,” he said. “As you can not do
your training today, we will not wait until Friday to address the rest of the Order as we had
planned.”
He glared at Harry and Draco. “And you two will not get involved in any more fights with
Weasley,” he warned.
“As long as he doesn’t hurt Harry again,” Draco said.
This is a nightmare, Harry thought. Killing Voldemort was going to be the easy part of the
entire week. Two simple words – Avada Kedavra – and that was all he had to say to
Voldemort. No explanations necessary.
When they went back to finish their breakfast, he glanced around the table, grateful that at
least he didn’t have to answer to this group. Frowning, he realized this group of Slytherins
had accepted him. No one had taunted him, questioned him, fought with him. Admittedly,
with the exception of Draco – and by association, Crabbe and Goyle – he’d never had much
trouble with this group in the past, but they were still Slytherins and he was still . . . well, he
was still Harry Potter, the quintessential Gryffindor.
He caught Blaise afterwards while Draco went to finally talk with Crabbe and Goyle.
“Zabini, what were all of you threatened with so you’d leave me alone?” Harry asked
curiously.
Blaise smirked at him. “We haven’t been threatened,” he said.
“You haven’t?” Harry said in surprise.
“Not directly,” Blaise amended.
“I don’t understand,” Harry admitted.
“Potter, somehow you have Draco, Snape, and even Lucius Malfoy standing behind you,”
Blaise said, rolling his eyes. “We don’t need any more direct threat than that, thank you.”
Harry’s face twisted into a grimace of acknowledgement. “Everyone does know that we’re
working to defeat Voldemort, right?” he asked.
Blaise sniggered. “Yes, that was made clear,” he said. “However, we don’t have the remotest
understanding as to how it’s come about. You, we understood. Draco, I somewhat understand.
Snape and Draco’s parents . . . and how you ended up working with them . . . or rather, how
they ended up working with you . . .”
“It’s a long story,” Harry said dryly.
“And probably one we’ll never hear in its entirety,” Blaise said knowingly.
Harry shook his head. “No, you won’t,” he admitted.
Blaise gazed at Harry speculatively. “We may not understand it, but it’s clear that you and
Snape are the ones in charge around here,” he said. “That fact alone brings you the respect of
the Slytherins. At least, of those who are here.”
“Of course,” Harry muttered. “Respect the power, not the fact that I’m trying to save
everyone’s arse.”
“And the clueless Gryffindor begins to understand,” Blaise said, smirking.
“Piss off,” Harry said, but without heat. “This clueless Gryffindor needs to go set things in
motion for a bloody Order meeting.”
*****
A few hours later, Harry truly felt like a clueless Gryffindor. Unsure of how it came about, he
found himself going to the Weasleys for lunch with Draco, Victoria and Blaise in tow. He
knew how it had it come about, as Mrs. Weasley had extended the invitation when Harry
talked to her about the Order meeting. But he was unsure of what had made him accept the
invitation. Actually, he knew the answer to that, too – Severus had insisted on it for some
unfathomable reason. Harry still didn’t understand
He approached the back door warily. They could have used the Floo now, but he was not
about to drop into the middle of the Weasley’s kitchen with Draco. This gave him a few extra
moments to prepare himself. He turned to Draco one more time.
“Draco, please behave,” he pleaded.
“I will if they will,” Draco declared haughtily, giving the same answer as he had the previous
twenty times Harry had tried to talk to him about it over the course of the morning.
Harry sighed in defeat, causing Draco to roll his eyes. “I’ll behave,” he drawled. “And I hope
you’re aware I would only do this for you,” he added.
“Isn’t that the truth,” Blaise muttered, sending Harry a small smirk behind Draco’s back. He
was the picture of innocence when Draco shot a glare over his shoulder at him.
Smiling, Harry kissed Draco on the cheek. “Thank you,” he said.
“I best get a better kiss than that,” Draco said, shifting Victoria to his other hip.
Harry arched a brow and proceeded to give him what he asked for. It wasn’t the easiest task,
considering Draco was holding Victoria and his arm was in a sling, but they were managing
well enough until they were interrupted by the back door swinging open.
“Hello, boys!” Ginny chirped.
Draco glared at her in annoyance. “Weaselette, allow me to officially introduce you to my

friend, Blaise Zabini,” he said. “Blaise, deal with her. She’s all yours.”
“Draco!” Harry exclaimed, not wanting to believe his boyfriend had just said that.
“Hello, Ginny,” Blaise said pointedly, offering her a wry smile.
Ginny beamed back at him, obviously pleased. “I’m glad you came,” she said. “You can sit
back and enjoy the entertainment with me,” she added, casting a cheeky grin at Harry and
Draco.
Harry stuck his tongue out at her as they were called into the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley gave him
a hug in greeting and he introduced her to Blaise. Draco was cordial with Mrs. Weasley, but
he was remaining carefully neutral otherwise. Blaise didn’t seem to be much of a concern to
anyone, but Harry quickly realized that was because everyone’s focus was on him and Draco.
The atmosphere was extremely tense as Mrs. Weasley urged them all to sit down. Harry and
Draco had Victoria between them as usual. Blaise and Ginny sat on the other side of Draco.
Ron, Hermione, the twins and Charlie sat facing them, with Mrs. Weasley in her seat at one
end of the table.
Charlie was talking with his mum as he ate, but they were both clearly watching over
everyone else. Ginny and Blaise struck up a quiet conversation, which Harry was happy to
see.
Draco kept almost his entire focus on Victoria or his own plate. Harry reckoned he was going
with the “if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all” theory, which was
probably for the best. Hermione and Ron seemed to be going with the same theory.
Harry didn’t know what to do. He wanted to steal Victoria and use her as a shield, but Draco
was already using her. He glanced at them, smiling faintly. Draco was trying to get her to eat
some potato salad, disguising it amongst bites of the banana pudding Mrs. Weasley had made
especially because Victoria was coming. They didn’t understand why, but Victoria hated
anything with potatoes. And she wasn’t falling for Draco’s attempts to trick her into eating
them now, either.
Draco’s tactic of using her as a shield backfired as she spit the potato salad back in his face.
“Urgh, Victoria!” he spluttered in disgust, snatching up a napkin to wipe off his face.
“You should’ve known better,” Harry gleefully pointed out.
“But it’s good potato salad!” Draco exclaimed without thinking. “I don’t understand why she
won’t eat the bloody stuff!”
“Nana,” Victoria demanded, reaching for more of the banana pudding.
“Oh, no,” Draco declared, giving her a determined stare. “You don’t get more banana
anything until you eat something else.”
“Nana,” she said insistently, beginning to look pouty.
Harry grinned as Draco’s face took on the same expression.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said sullenly, “or I’ll give you to your daddy and let him deal
with you.”
“Dada,” Victoria said. “Nana.”
“You’re her daddy,” Harry pointed out helpfully, trying to keep his expression innocent.
“So are you,” Draco said petulantly. “You feed her.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Just give up on the bloody potato salad,” he said. “It’s not like I’m
going to be able to get her to eat it, either.”
“Does she like coleslaw?” Hermione spoke up tentatively. “It’s vegetables.”
Harry’s eyes darted back and forth between Hermione and Draco, before settling on Draco.
Draco opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, only a slight grimace marring his features.
Hermione passed him the bowl and he accepted it after only a slight hesitation. “Thank you,”
he said.
Harry slowly released the breath he realized he’d been holding. Civil was good and it was a
start. He gave Hermione a small smile of gratitude, and she smiled back. Ron’s brow was
creased in a thoughtful frown. He caught Harry’s gaze.
“Why doesn’t she like potato salad?” he asked.
Harry blinked. Ron always could throw him off with questions he wasn’t expecting.
“We don’t know,” Draco answered, now successfully feeding Victoria small bites of the
coleslaw. His eyes remained focused on her, but he continued speaking to Ron. “She doesn’t
like anything with potatoes, in any form. We’ve tried mashed, boiled, fried. She doesn’t like
any of them.”
“Oh,” Ron said.
Harry couldn’t resist. “She’s not like you, Ron, eating anything that’s put in front of you,” he
said, grinning.
“I don’t eat just anything!” Ron protested, even as he was stealing the bowl of coleslaw back
from Draco to load more on his plate. “I didn’t eat that French,” he waved his hand
expansively, trying to remember, “soup, or whatever it was.”
“Oh honestly, Ron,” Hermione huffed. “Fleur’s been living here and you still can’t remember
that it’s called Bouillabaisse.”
“And you did to eat it,” Harry said.
“No, he didn’t,” Hermione said irritably. “He offered it over to the little hussy, drooling all
the while.”
Ron blushed a brilliant red. Hermione looked chagrined. Harry sniggered.
“What little hussy?” Draco drawled, eyebrow arched curiously. “Surely Brown doesn’t have a
taste for fine cuisine.”
Harry’s eyes widened as they jerked to Ron to see his reaction, but he registered Hermione
also watching Ron expectantly. Ron was spluttering. He couldn’t defend himself without
inadvertently defending Lavender and Fleur in the process, which would only get him into
hot water with Hermione.
Ron finally ducked his head and retreated back to his food without saying a word. Hermione
grinned smugly at Harry.
“I think I’m beginning to actually like your boyfriend,” she said.
Draco looked a little horrified at that statement before he sighed in resignation. “Harry, I hate
you,” he said forlornly.
“I know,” Harry reassured him, trying to keep a straight face. “You only wanted to know who
the little hussy was.”
“So, who was it?” Draco asked.

Harry, Ron and Hermione’s eyes all drifted to the other end of the table to see if Mrs.
Weasley was listening to them or not. Draco’s eyes followed them curiously. She appeared to
still be engrossed in her conversation with Charlie. Everyone else was waiting expectantly to
hear who the hussy was.
Harry looked back to Hermione. They stared at each other for a moment, and he was sure his
face reflected the mischievous grin on hers. Hermione glanced over to Ginny and she
couldn’t hold in the giggles. Ron’s face turned a deeper shade of red.
“Oh, you’ve got to tell us,” Ginny demanded.
“Harry, no,” Ron pleaded.
“Fleur,” Harry admitted, grinning unrepentantly.
Ginny, Fred and George immediately broke out into loud gales of laughter. Draco and Blaise
were sniggering. Hermione was giggling uncontrollably. Mrs. Weasley and Charlie obviously
hadn’t been listening because they were startled at the suddenly animated group.
“Some kind of friend you are, Harry,” Ron muttered.
Harry stilled. For a few minutes he’d let himself relax, pretending like this was a normal
gathering. With the abrupt reminder that he could lose his best friend, he felt sick. Glancing
around at the others still laughing, he realized he must have been the only one to hear the
words, but from Ron’s stricken expression, he’d recognized the serious implications of what
he’d said.
By unspoken agreement, they stood and made to leave. The room grew quiet almost instantly.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Draco hissed at Harry, his humour gone.
“I just need to talk to Harry for a minute,” Ron said quietly. “I’ll bring him back without
harming him.”
Harry’s eyes jerked to Ron, but Ron was focused on Draco. The real surprise came from the
quiet dignity that had been in Ron’s voice, and Harry wasn’t the only one to register that fact.
Draco’s eyes were narrowed as his gaze locked with Ron’s and Harry stared at the two of
them, wondering what the hell they were thinking. And wondering what bloody alternate
universe he’d just landed in when Draco gave Ron a curt nod.
Draco stood before Harry could leave and brushed his lips across Harry’s before whispering
in his ear, “If he hurts you, I will hunt him down.”
Harry gave him a soft smile, oddly reassured. He kissed Draco back. “My hero,” he
murmured against his lips.
Flushing a light pink, Draco scowled at him. “Go away,” he said haughtily. “You’re
disrupting my meal.”
Smiling, Harry followed Ron out into the garden. His smile fell away as Ron stopped and
faced him. It wasn’t lost on him that Ron hadn’t taken them out of sight of the kitchen
windows.
“I don’t like him,” Ron said abruptly.
“I know,” Harry said. “I don’t expect you to like him. Draco’s been a nasty prick to you and
you have no reason to like him.”
Inexplicably to Harry, Ron gave him a wry smile at those words.
“But I do have a reason, Harry,” he said.
Harry frowned, shaking his head. “No, you don’t,” he said. His frown deepened as he
registered that some type of role reversal seemed to be occurring.
Ron laughed, also recognizing the switch. “Weren’t you the one who gave us any number of
reasons last night as to why we should get along with him?” he asked.
“Well, yeah, but I just need you to accept that he’s helping the Light side,” Harry said. “I
need you to be civil to him so we can win this war, but other than that, I know you’ve got
every reason to hate him personally.”
Ron’s smile turned sad. “You really do care about everyone else first, don’t you?” he said. He
shook his head dismissively.
“Look, I’ve got plenty of reasons why I hate Malfoy, even after everything you said last
night,” he said. “I don’t understand all of it – or most of it – but . . . bloody hell, Harry, if it’s
even obvious to me how much you care about each other, well, it’s a damned big reason to
like Malfoy.”
“You’re in the middle of something far bigger than I can comprehend with all this war and
espionage stuff,” he continued, his expression a reflection of his incomprehension. “But
you’re somehow still happier than I’ve probably ever seen you.”
“I am happy,” Harry said softly.
Ron didn’t say anything, gazing pensively at the house.
“So, are we still friends?” Harry asked hesitantly after more than a minute had passed in
silence.
“I refuse to lose my best friend,” Ron said. He shrugged. “I’m not stupid. I know if I tried to
make you choose between me and Malfoy, I’d lose.”
Harry opened his mouth to deny that, but then closed it again as he realized he couldn’t deny
it truthfully. He dropped his head miserably.
“You want to know why I know how important you are to Malfoy?” Ron asked abruptly.
“Aside from the fact that he threatened me for hurting you,” he added.
Harry looked up at him.
“Because he’s also refusing to make you choose,” Ron said. “Draco Malfoy’s actually come
to my house for lunch and is behaving civilly. For you. We both know damned well that he
still hates me, but he accepts the fact that I’m your best friend.” He shrugged. “I can respect
that.”
Harry’s eyes closed as relief washed over him. “Ron, you have no idea . . .” he trailed off, not
knowing how to express his gratitude.
“Yeah, I do,” Ron said quietly. “While Harry Potter is busy trying to save the world, his
friends and family are doing their bloody best to give the world to him.”
Harry opened his eyes and arched a brow. “That was rather . . . disturbingly profound,” he
said.
Ron grinned. “From Hermione’s lips to your ears,” he said.
Harry laughed and Ron laughed with him. They turned when Hermione poked her head out
the back door. “If you’re laughing, does it mean it’s safe to come out?” she asked.
Harry held his arm out, an unspoken request for a hug. Hermione ran out and gave him one,
mindful of his shoulder still in a sling, but hugging him tightly regardless.
“Are you all right with all this, Hermione?” he asked.
“It’ll take some getting used to,” she admitted.
She pulled back, gazing at him solemnly. “But I’m going to trust that my best friend knows
what he’s doing and knows what’s best for him,” she said, tears welling in her eyes and
spilling over.
“Thank you,” he said, his deep appreciation expressed in the huskiness of his voice.
“You’re welcome,” she said softly.
They turned as the others approached, Hermione attempting to wipe away the tears.
“Potter, you have no manners,” Draco drawled, sticking his hand down Harry’s front pocket
and pulling out the handkerchief he’d put there. He handed it to Hermione, who accepted it
with recognition dawning on her features.
She gave Harry a watery grin. “Well, that solves one mystery at least,” she said.
Harry rolled his eyes. “Draco’s under this misguided impression that he’s going to turn me
into a gentleman,” he said dryly.
“No,” Draco denied. “You’d lose your charm if you turned into a gentleman, but it doesn’t
mean you have to be an uncouth slob, either.”
“Hate to interrupt the tender moments,” George said.
“But who’s up for a game of Quidditch?” Fred asked.
Harry’s face fell. “I’m out,” he sighed.
“Mate, I’m sorry,” Ron said sheepishly.
“As well you should be, Weasley,” Draco said, but his eyes were lingering on the brooms the
twins had brought out with them.
Ron looked ready to lash out, but he snapped his jaw shut.
“Well, with Harry out, we do have even teams at least,” Ginny said, earning frowns from Ron
and Draco.
“Draco and I don’t have brooms here,” Blaise said.
“Draco can just pop home and grab ours,” Harry said easily.
“Harry,” Draco began.
Harry stopped him by kissing him. “We’ve got hours still before the meeting. Just go get our
brooms and you can fly for awhile,” he said.
Draco looked unsure, but he didn’t require much urging from Harry. Thirty minutes later,
Draco, Ron and George were competing against Ginny, Blaise and Fred.
Harry watched, wishing he was up there with them, but at the same time he was enjoying
Ron and Draco’s bemusement at being on the same team. Fred and George had blithely set
the teams and taken off into the air before anyone could protest.
Victoria’s sudden wails abruptly brought his attention back to the ground. He scooped her up,
shushing her.
“What happened?” he asked, feeling guilty for not watching her more closely.
Hermione was smiling. “She was trying to stand, but she was startled by a butterfly and fell,”
she said.
“A butterfly?” Harry asked Victoria in amusement. “You play with a snake on a regular basis,
and you were scared by a butterfly?”
“You let her play with a snake?!” Hermione asked, horrified.
Cuddling Victoria, Harry explained how she and Lissa played together.
“Well, that gives new meaning to animated toys,” Hermione said bemusedly.
Harry grinned, nodding in agreement. Victoria squirmed out of his arms, ready to explore
again.
“It’s funny,” Hermione said abruptly.
“What is?” Harry asked.
“All of last year, you tried to convince Ron and I that Malfoy was an evil little bastard, but
we wouldn’t listen to you,” she said. “We dismissed almost everything you said about him
and thought you were a fool for obsessing over him.”
“Now, you’re trying to convince us that Malfoy isn’t an evil little bastard, and we’re finally
listening to you,” she said. “It’s difficult to sort out everything in our heads, but we’re not
dismissing any of it. And you’re doing far more than obsessing over him.”
Harry smiled, thinking about all the things he’d been doing with Draco. Hermione smiled
ruefully in return.
“The irony is unfathomable,” she said. “But you were right. You’ve been right about
everything regarding him.”
She tilted her head curiously. “Do you really love him, Harry?” she asked.
“Yes,” Harry answered simply.
Hermione nodded in acceptance, watching as Harry plucked the grass from Victoria’s fist
before she could get it into her mouth and moved her back to the centre of the blanket.
“I was upset last night, and argued with Ginny about it, but I do understand why you told her
but not us,” Hermione said. “Ron and I don’t have a very good history of listening to you
where Malfoy is concerned.”
“I didn’t even tell Ginny, you know,” Harry said. “Draco told her. I think he was trying to
stake his claim on me,” he added.
“Yes, Ginny’s finally told me about the shower,” Hermione said. Her expression showed both
disapproval for the state Ginny had been in, and amusement at the predicament in which
Harry had found himself.
Harry’s eyes widened. “Ron doesn’t know, does he?” he asked.
“Harry, I have to admit that some secrets are best kept secret,” she said. “Ginny naked in the
shower with you is one of them.”
Harry sighed with relief, causing Hermione to laugh. “You really have been in some sticky
situations this summer, haven’t you?”
“Too many of them,” Harry muttered.
“Yes, well, at least you’ve had Fred and George to help you,” she said.
“You don’t mind that I told them?” Harry asked in surprise.

“No, they don’t really count,” Hermione said dismissively.
Harry’s eyebrows rose. “They don’t count?”
“Well, they do,” Hermione conceded, “but they’re different. They admire rule breaking and
pranks and well-kept secrets. And they put you into an entirely different category of hero.”
“I’m the master player,” Harry said, remembering the description Draco had used.
“Yes, that fits,” Hermione agreed. “It’s all a game and you’re the best at it, as far as they’re
concerned. We’re at the height of war, and I’d be willing to bet that this is the best summer
they’ve ever had.”
“Um, probably,” Harry said, unable to disagree.
Victoria fell again and started crying. Harry picked her up, rubbing her back and attempting
to soothe her.
“She looks ready for a nap,” Hermione said.
“It’s probably why she’s fussy,” he agreed. He bit his lip. Victoria was used to a bottle right
before she went down for a nap, and he realized he was used to simply asking Winky to
retrieve one for him.
“What?” Hermione asked, frowning at him.
Harry debated if this was a good time to deal with the house-elf issue. He didn’t really want
to get into it with Hermione, but it had to be addressed at some point. Eying Hermione
warily, he called for Winky.
Hermione frowned in disapproval, but didn’t say anything.
“Yes, Master Harry?” Winky said.
“Would you get me a bottle for Victoria, please?” he requested.
Winky bowed and disappeared. Harry focused on settling Victoria comfortably in his lap, and
was ready when Winky returned with the bottle.
“Anything else, Master Harry?” Winky asked.
“Winky?” Hermione said kindly.
Winky shifted away from her, obviously remembering who she was.
“You look well,” Hermione said.
“Master Harry takes good care of me,” Winky said proudly.
Harry snorted softly. He didn’t do a damned thing for Winky.

Hermione frowned at him, and he reluctantly explained. “Winky’s the one always taking care
of me,” he admitted.
“She looks so much better,” Hermione said, her brow furrowed as she processed that fact.
Harry fed Victoria and watched as Hermione took in every detail of Winky’s appearance. She
was standing proudly, dressed neatly in a pink tea towel. There wasn’t a tear in sight and she
looked healthy. She only vaguely resembled the same drunken house-elf they’d witnessed in
the kitchens at Hogwarts.
“Can I ask you a few questions?” Hermione asked.
Winky looked to Harry for permission and he nodded reassuringly. “It’s all right, Winky,” he
said. “She’s just wanting to make sure you’re happy.”
“Winky is very happy taking care of Master Harry and Mistress Victoria,” Winky said,
indignant that anyone could even question such a thing.
Victoria fell asleep and Harry settled her onto the blanket before lying on his back beside her.
He watched the Quidditch game and listened in amusement as Hermione questioned Winky.
Winky would counter Hermione’s concerns far better than he ever could.
The Quidditch game seemed to be going well enough. Draco had loaned Blaise his broom
and taken Harry’s Firebolt for himself. He looked to be having a lot of fun, despite himself.
And with the two major competitors on the same team, the game remained relaxed.
As relaxed as they could be, Harry corrected his thoughts. There was still plenty of tension in
the group, but everyone was making a concerted effort to get along. The threat of death in a
few days was a powerful motivator, influencing all of them. For a few moments, he allowed
himself to question if this would be their last afternoon together like this. It was no wonder
they were all attempting to keep it as peaceful as possible.
He shoved those thoughts aside. The others were taking their cue from him and they couldn’t
afford doubts now.
He closed his eyes, simply listening to the lilting of Hermione’s voice, the excited shouts of
the Quidditch game and the soft, snuffling snores of Victoria. He wasn’t going to ruin this by
thinking about death. Soaking in the reassuring sounds and the warm sunshine, Harry drifted
off to sleep.
He woke as lazily as he’d fallen asleep. “Mmmm,” he murmured appreciatively, enjoying the
soft kisses raining over his face. Draco kissed him languidly, sliding his tongue sensuously
through Harry’s mouth. Harry’s hand glided down Draco’s side and around to the small of his
back. When his hand started to go lower, Draco broke the kiss with a low chuckle.
“Wake up, you lazy sod,” he drawled. “We’ve got an audience.”
Harry’s eyes flew open, and he could feel the flush rising to his cheeks as he caught sight of
his friends staring back at him in varying degrees of amusement. Draco rolled to his side,
propping himself up on his elbow.
Harry scrambled to sit up, but Draco pushed him back down, smirking at him and his eyes
sparkling. Harry stared at him, caught by the sheer joy in Draco’s eyes.
“You had fun flying, didn’t you?” he said softly.
Draco nodded. “It was even more fun than kissing you awake,” he said.
“Hey!” Harry protested.
“Well, flying wasn’t as good as waking you up this morning,” Draco conceded, grinning
when Harry blushed again.
“Oh, do tell,” Fred said eagerly.
“No!” Harry and Ron exclaimed.
“It’s enough being forced to watch you snogging,” Ron added with a grimace.
“Funny, that coming from you,” Harry retorted.
Ron darted a worried glance at Hermione as Ginny giggled.
“Harry’s right,” Hermione sniffed. “You have no room to talk, Ron.”
“So, with all the snogging Harry and Malfoy are always doing, does that mean Harry’s a
hussy?” Ginny asked innocently.
Harry stared at her incredulously for a moment before he burst out laughing, Hermione and
the others joining in.
The laughter woke up Victoria and she crawled onto Harry’s chest, cuddling with him and
blinking sleepily at everyone.
“Have a good nap, pumpkin?” Draco asked, rubbing her back.
Harry grinned smugly for the use of the endearment, and Draco sneered at him before leaning
over to kiss Victoria on the top of her head. Harry pulled Draco down to claim his own kiss.
“Urgh, Harry,” Ron grimaced. “You’d think you were a girl with the way you’re acting.”
“Ron!” Hermione and Ginny exclaimed.
“Am I?” Harry asked, frowning.
He still felt like himself, but he had to admit he had no idea how one was supposed to act
when they were in a relationship with another boy. It wasn’t like he’d seen any other couples
to compare. Severus and Remus certainly didn’t count, as everything about their relationship
was kept as private as possible. Harry felt privileged to even know they were together.
“No, you’re not,” Draco answered Harry, scowling furiously at Ron.

“What’d I say?” Ron asked, alarmed at the reactions he’d received for his comment.
“Teaspoon, Ron, teaspoon,” Hermione said angrily. “Don’t you even make Harry feel bad for
being happy.”
“I wasn’t,” Ron protested.
“You just called him a girl, Ron,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes.
“No, I didn’t,” Ron defended. “I just don’t know how this boy-boy stuff works.”
“You can’t even figure out how the boy-girl stuff works,” Hermione snapped.
Ron looked hurt by that accusation, and Harry took pity on him. “It’s all right,” he said. “I
don’t know how I’m supposed to act, either.”
Draco lifted Victoria and handed her over to Hermione before straddling Harry’s hips.
“You’re supposed to act like you,” he said fiercely, glaring down at him. “You, with all your
moods. Which means sometimes you’re sweet and affectionate and sometimes you’re dark
and dangerous. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Harry stared up at him, feeling as startled and bewildered as Ron. “Uh, all right,” he said.
“And sometimes you’re clueless,” Draco huffed, before cupping Harry’s face and proceeding
to snog him senseless.
Harry groaned at the sudden assault. Where the earlier kisses had been sweet and tender, this
one was claiming. Draco plundered his mouth, possessing him, before inviting Harry’s
tongue back into his own mouth to claim and possess in return.
“Fucking hell, Draco,” Harry breathed when they finally pulled apart. “What was that for?”
“That was an obliviation,” Draco said, his own voice rather breathless.
“Obliviation of what?” Harry asked dazedly.
Draco smirked. “I’m happy to know it worked,” he drawled.
“Gods, you’re such a prat sometimes,” Harry said, but it came out sounding far more fond
than irritated.
Harry started as someone cleared their throat, having forgotten about everyone else. Draco
dropped his head into the crook of Harry’s neck, laughing.
*****
“Here, Ginny,” Draco said, smirking her name. “Watch Victoria for a while. I’ve got to go get
Harry ready.” Ginny took her, shooting a grin in Harry’s direction before focusing on the
baby.
Harry squawked his protest, otherwise speechless.
Hermione darted a curious glance between them. “What do you mean, you have to get Harry
ready?”
“There’s an extremely important Order meeting he has to lead in a short while,” Draco said,
as if the answer was obvious.
They’d stayed at the Weasleys for the entire afternoon and had just finished dinner. Now that
the majority of people would be off work, the Order meeting would be starting soon. Harry
could feel the tension building inside of him again. It was all the more unpleasant after the
relaxing afternoon.
At Hermione’s look of incomprehension, Ginny explained. “Malfoy’s going to go play dress

up with Harry, make him look more presentable.”
“More like a man of power,” Draco drawled.
Hermione frowned thoughtfully. “More like he looked for the wedding?” she asked.
“Exactly like he looked for the wedding,” Draco agreed smugly.
“What do I have to get all dressed up for?” Harry protested.
“Because this isn’t going to be just family and friends,” Hermione took on the task of
explaining it to him, making it all sound perfectly reasonable. “Shacklebolt and McGonagall
still harboured hopes that Snape was on the light side, and they like and trust you personally,
so it was easier for you to convince them. Most of the people that are going to be here this
evening are not going to want to believe you.”
“Which means, you have to present an image that commands respect,” Draco continued when
Hermione paused. “You’re going to have to be careful, but we’re going to take that sling off
as well, so that you’re not exhibiting visible weaknesses.”
“What happened to me just being me?” Harry muttered.
“I don’t doubt that you will be,” Draco said dryly. “I’m certain that before this evening is
over, everyone will be very clear on exactly where Harry Potter stands on everything.”
Harry frowned at him, but Hermione and Ginny were nodding in agreement.
“This should be interesting,” Hermione said.
*****
“Fucking hell,” Draco said in disgust. “Could it be any more orange?”
“I love Ron’s room,” Harry said, bristling defensively. “You can tell he lives here and it’s
comfortable.”
Draco looked at him sharply, before glancing around the room again, seeming to be actually
studying it with interest this time around. “All right, I get it,” he finally said.
“Get what?” Harry asked suspiciously.
“This entire room screams Ron Weasley,” Draco said. “Whether I like what it’s screaming or
not is beside the point,” he added with a grimace.
He gazed back at Harry. “And our room, screams me,” he sighed.
Harry shrugged his free shoulder. “I like our room, too,” he said softly. The corner of his
mouth lifted into a light smirk. “And I happen to love when you scream.”
Draco smirked in return before sobering.
Harry sighed. “Draco, no,” he said. “I just want to get this bloody Order meeting over with. If
you honestly think the right clothes are going to help, then by all means, dress me however
you want.”
He smiled faintly. “Then we can go home and I can surround myself with dragons,” he said.
“I’m rather fond of one in particular.”
Draco wasn’t happy with dropping the issue, but he stepped to Harry and gave him a gentle
kiss. “I’ll surround you anytime,” he promised.
He stepped back. “Now strip,” he ordered.
Harry groaned.
*****
Harry strode into the garden with his confidence firmly in place, Draco beside him.
“Wow,” Blaise breathed, surprising Harry.
“What?” Harry asked, frowning at him.
Blaise shook his head. “Just wondering how many couples could radiate as much power,
beauty and confidence as the two of you,” he said.
Draco nodded coolly at the compliment. Harry gaped at Blaise.
“You’re ruining the image, Potter,” Draco drawled.
Harry scowled at him before shaking off Blaise’s comment, lifting his chin and gazing around
the garden. The twins and Ron were finishing with the table set-up. Hermione and Ginny had
been talking with McGonagall and Kingsley, but Kingsley broke away and approached Harry.
“Good evening, Harry,” Kingsley said pleasantly.

“Hello, Kingsley,” Harry said dryly. “Allow me to introduce you to Draco Malfoy and Blaise
Zabini. Draco, Blaise, I’d like you to meet Kingsley Shacklebolt, our new Minister for
Magic.”
Proving he was a Slytherin and a Malfoy, Draco didn’t bat an eyelash, shaking the hand of
the man who should technically be arresting him. “Good evening, Minister,” he said
smoothly. Blaise followed suit.
“Good evening, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Zabini,” Kingsley said, amusement reflected in his voice, if
not his features.
Harry wondered where this situation fit on the bizarre scale. They’d yet to assign actual
numbers to their rating system, and he was rather regretting in that instant that they hadn’t.
His imaginary, non-rating went up several notches when Severus, Narcissa, and Lucius
Apparated into the garden.
Not bothering with greetings, Severus unceremoniously ordered the Slytherin group inside
before the others started arriving. Harry felt bereft when Draco left his side. He’d received a
cool brush of lips and had the feeling he should probably be thankful he’d even got that
much. He frowned back at the house for a moment, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it as
McGonagall snagged his attention.
It wasn’t much longer before the other Order members started arriving.
*****
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Notes

Chapter Forty-Eight
Harry stood at the head of the table, gazing at all of the people gathered in the Weasley’s
garden for this meeting. He felt the butterflies threatening to take over his stomach and firmly
squashed them. It wasn’t the time for niceties and it wasn’t the time for nervousness.
He was aware of the image he presented, as Draco had carefully cultivated it. He’d felt like
he was being pressed and starched at the time, but now he was the picture of a proper wizard,
dressed similarly as he had been at Bill and Fleur’s wedding a few days before, in his
phoenix robes.
He remained unaware, though, of the air of authority and determination he presented. He was
oblivious to the sense of danger and power radiating from him as he stood there watching
everyone until silence fell over the gathering.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice easily carrying to everyone. “This is an extremely
important meeting and one in which you will all find very difficult. You’re going to find it
hard to trust my judgement, but it’s more important than ever that you do so. Our lives will
depend upon it.”
There was a lot of restless shifting at Harry’s words. Many exchanged wary glances amongst
themselves or sent him sharp looks of concern.
“I’m gathering all those fighting against Voldemort and we will need everyone as we go into
the final battle,” Harry said.
“Final battle?!”
The exclamations came from many people around the table, and Harry simply nodded once in
acknowledgement, waiting silently until the group quieted again. They did quiet as they
realized Harry was not going to be forthcoming with more information until they were all
listening.
Harry was inwardly surprised at how well this was working. Lucius had been an invaluable
help preparing him for this. He’d been instructed on how to take charge and on how to
remain in charge . . . and it was working . . . so far.
“The final battle will be fought on Saturday, three days from now,” Harry said. “Anyone not
wishing to be involved is welcome to leave now.” He waited for several seconds, but no one
moved.
“Be aware that by staying, you will be committing yourself,” he said. He quietly explained
that extra spells would be placed to ensure that the plans would remain secret. He again
waited and, again, no one moved. McGonagall, Kingsley and Remus swiftly cast the spells
that would allow no one to speak about anything that transpired during the rest of the
meeting.
Harry noticed Moody looking at him with a mixture of both approval and suspicion. Severus
had put up a ward to keep Moody from seeing them in the house. Tonks was watching him
with open curiosity. Most were staring at him apprehensively.
“Mr. Potter, do you not think that this is a little extreme?” someone asked, sounding slightly
alarmed.
“No,” Harry said simply
“Those inducted into the Order have already taken vows of commitment and secrecy,” the
woman persisted.
“Those inducted into the Order have never been faced with what I will be presenting them
with today. The extra spells are necessary,” Harry said firmly.
They’d been presented with an Azkaban escapee before. They’d dealt with issues
surrounding Death Eater spies before. However, they’d not been forced to face someone who
had killed their leader. They’d not had to so explicitly place their trust in a seventeen-year-
old.
He breathed deeply, fortifying himself. “I have several important people coming to this
meeting,” he explained. “They’ve been instrumental in helping me this summer and they are
vital links in the plans for Saturday.”
“Who are they?” Moody asked sharply.

“I will introduce you to them shortly,” Harry said, putting him off for the moment. “I may
very well be asking for too much, but I am hoping that you can all behave civilly and trust me
long enough to at least give you the explanations that you will want to hear.”
His eyes narrowed and he glared at them all warningly. “Keep in mind that my guests will be
helping to vanquish Voldemort,” he said. “I suggest that you refrain from cursing them.”
“Who the bloody hell do you have coming here, Harry?” Tonks asked.
Harry glanced at her, but didn’t answer. Instead, he held up five wands. “These are my
guests’ wands. They’re not here to harm you. They are here to help,” he said.
Eyes were wide as a wave of restlessness flowed through the group. Harry felt the
nervousness attempt to bubble up inside him and he ruthlessly tamped it down. He nodded to
the Weasley boys who’d been patiently waiting near the back door of the house.
Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, and Ron were basically acting as a front guard for the Slytherins.
The Slytherins had protested, but Harry was highly amused. They’d agreed, though, because
in the practical sense, the Weasleys were highly respected members of the Order. It made a
major statement without a word spoken – the Weasleys supported this group of Slytherins,
despite their history.
Harry spared a brief glance at the newcomers as they came out of the house, but his attention
swiftly reverted to watching the reactions of those in front of him.
Many drew their wands immediately, shouts and a few screams were heard, but no spells
were fired as everyone watched the newcomers approach in various degrees of shock and
fear.
Draco and Severus moved to stand on either side of Harry. Narcissa stood behind Draco and
Lucius behind Harry. Remus had joined the group and stood on the other side of Severus.
Blaise stood next to Draco. The Weasleys flanked the group, their wands drawn.
The group of twelve, Harry at the centre, stood quietly watching the chaos that was erupting.
Rapid-fire questions were being directed at Harry, but he didn’t attempt to answer any of
them.
Draco leaned close to Harry. “You’re sure this was a good idea?” he asked.
Harry cast him a sidelong glance. “They want Voldemort gone,” he said quietly. “They’ll
come around soon enough.”
“I’m inclined to believe this is one of your impossibles, Harry,” Lucius drawled softly from
behind them.
“Let us hope it is one of his impossibles,” Severus sneered. “Or we do not stand a chance.”
Harry and Draco sniggered.

Several people had witnessed the interaction, even though they hadn’t been able to hear the
words spoken. They had now paused and were gaping in disbelief. A wave of silence radiated
out from those who’d seen the friendly relations until everyone was finally quiet.
Harry took one step forward. “These people are amongst my strongest allies against
Voldemort.”
“They’re Death Eaters,” Moody growled angrily.
Harry nodded. “Four of my guests do have the Dark Mark,” he agreed.
Many blinked furiously as they attempted to process Harry’s calm admission.
“They need to be restrained, Potter,” Moody growled ominously. He was standing with wand
drawn, prepared to immobilize them at the first sign of trouble. Harry was fairly certain that
the only thing stopping him was the fact that Harry had their wands.
“Before someone gets hurt,” Tonks added, also prepared to take action. She was darting
glances, however, between Harry and Kingsley, who both remained calm.
Kingsley spoke up. “If everyone will take their seats, I’m certain Harry will introduce us to
his guests,” he said with firm authority. “Anyone who interferes or attempts to harm them
will be taken into custody.”
That effectively sent another wave of shocked silence throughout the group. Harry realized at
that moment how shrewd it had been for Lucius to reveal himself when he had. With the
Minister himself backing Harry and his group, it was far more difficult for the others to
argue. Not that it would stop them completely, but it certainly helped.
Moody finally spoke. “You are aware of and condone Potter’s actions?” he asked Kingsley.
Kingsley nodded. “Yes, I am aware, and he has my complete support,” he said. “As Minister,
I will enforce any action taken against him or those with him.” His deep voice seemed to
resonate through the garden until those who were still standing slowly took their seats again.
“Please, introduce your guests, Harry. Everyone here is clearly aware of who they are, but I
believe some re-introductions are in order,” he said.
Harry gave Kingsley a grateful nod. He was extremely aware of the suspicion, the fear, the
anger, and the complete bewilderment of those present. Tonks was still wary, but mostly
curious. Moody was livid, but had followed Kingsley’s order.
Harry glanced at Severus over his shoulder, silently asking him to step forward. Harry was
sure the tension in the air raised another notch with Severus’ movement, especially as
Severus rested a hand on Harry’s shoulder, but they certainly had everyone’s rapt attention.
“Members of the Order, meet Severus Snape, my most powerful ally in this war,” Harry said
formally.
“He’s the enemy!”

“He killed Dumbledore!”
“He is not my enemy,” Harry said calmly. “Nor is he the enemy of anyone here. Yes, he did
kill Dumbledore, but it was under circumstances that were dictated by Dumbledore himself.”
He waited for the outbursts to die down before he spoke again. “I am the only person who
knows completely what happened that night. I will remain the only person because there are
too many lives at stake for me to give you the complete details. I’m sure this angers all of
you, and I’m aware that I’ve shaken the trust of many of you.”
Severus squeezed his shoulder in reassurance, and Harry glanced up at him gratefully before
turning his gaze back on the group of suspicious Order members.
“Severus has never wavered in his loyalty to the Light side,” he said. “Even after he followed
through with that horrendous task that was forced on him, he continued to gather information
for us. It was Severus who warned me of each of the battles this summer. He helped me fight
in the battle at the Ministry on Saturday. He has been training me in defence at every spare
opportunity.”
“Are you saying you’ve been meeting with him all summer?!” Tonks asked incredulously.
“A couple months before Dumbledore died, he changed the wards on Grimmauld Place to
allow only Severus and myself access,” Harry said. “Yes, I’ve been meeting with him and, at
this point, we are both living there.”
“You’re living at Headquarters with Severus?!” Tonks shrieked in disbelief.
Harry nodded and his lips curled up in a smile. “The kitchen is one of the best meeting
places, and I reckon you could call it Headquarters still, as much of the strategy for this war
as been conducted there,” he said. “But it is now also my home.”
“You are saying that Severus can be trusted, Potter?” Moody asked sharply.
“I trust him with my life,” Harry said solemnly.
“Explain the Malfoys,” Moody growled.
Severus stepped back after squeezing Harry’s shoulder one more time. Harry was quite
pleased with the perfect opening and called for Winky, who had been instructed to bring
Victoria when Harry summoned her.
Harry perched Victoria on his hip as he faced the Order members. “Everyone, allow me to
introduce the youngest Malfoy first. Meet Victoria Analissa Malfoy,” he said proudly.
“Malfoy?!”
Harry scowled as the outbursts startled Victoria and she clung to him tightly, hiding her face.
He’d expected the reactions, but it still didn’t make him happy. He rubbed Victoria’s back
soothingly and shushed her quietly until both she and the group settled down again.
“Yes, she is a Malfoy. As is her father, Draco Malfoy,” he said.
Draco stepped up beside him and Harry could feel the tension radiating off of him. He
couldn’t solve that the way he wanted, so instead, he passed Victoria over. “Go see Daddy,
Victoria,” he said softly.
She went willingly and Draco hugged her close, even though his expression remained
impassive.
Harry addressed the Order again. “I’ve been working with Draco for most of the summer. For
a time, he was essentially a spy for me, but only until we were able to safely provide security
for him and his family. Since then, he’s been helping me with several of my tasks.”
He glanced over his shoulder at Lucius and Narcissa and they stepped forward, each laying a
hand on Harry’s shoulders in a gesture of support and unity.
“Narcissa renounced Voldemort and has been supportive while providing me with valuable
information that I’ve needed,” Harry said. “Most of the Wizarding world has not known that
the Malfoys have been missing since the end of June. Voldemort, however, has been
searching for them and is completely unaware of their location.”
“Lucius, well, everyone thinks he’s dead,” Harry said with a shrug of his shoulder.
“Obviously, he’s not. He was the only one who could retrieve a valuable artefact I was
searching for. He’s chosen to side with his family and has also been helping me. In particular,
he helped me fight in the battle this past weekend, helping to save the Ministry.”
Most of the Order members were staring, dumbfounded with Harry’s revelations.
“And Mr. Zabini?” Kingsley questioned.
“Blaise, and several other neutral Slytherins, are now under my protection because they do
not wish to join Voldemort’s ranks,” Harry answered. “Voldemort intends to mark them on
Saturday and I refuse to let that happen. They are staying with me at Grimmauld Place until
this is over.”
He spread his arms wide. “This group will be standing with me in the final battle against
Voldemort.”
“You are truly prepared to confront You Know Who?” Moody asked.
“Almost,” Harry answered. “I need all of you as well.”
He gazed around the group, meeting people’s suspicious gazes head on. “I have many allies
in my fight against Voldemort. Today is about uniting my forces so that I am truly prepared to
face him. If my allies are split by mistrust, anger and old prejudices, then we are all at greater
risk.”
He shook his head. “I will not allow that.”
“You expect us just to forgive the evils they’ve done?”

“No, I am asking you to trust me,” Harry said simply.
His statement caused the restless shifting to ease as many stared at him in indecision.
“As I stated earlier, I am fully aware that I have shaken your trust in me,” Harry said. “But if
there has ever been a time that I have actually needed that trust, it is now.”
“Be angry, continue to hate Severus and the Malfoys, believe what you wish to believe,” he
said. “I felt the same way as many of you not that long ago and I understand completely. I
know that I’ve been privy to information that you have not been, and I have had far more
time to get to know them this summer. I care about these people a great deal, and the hatred
directed towards them bothers me, but at the moment, it is far more important for all of us
that you trust me to do what is right.”
“All of our lives depend on it,” he said gravely.
The garden was utterly silent and Harry wondered briefly if there was some kind of Silencing
Charm over the area. Even the normal sounds of the outdoors were suspiciously absent. He
glanced up at Severus with narrowed eyes, suddenly sure that the paranoid man had placed
additional charms on the area somehow. Or had Remus do it, considering that Harry still had
his wand.
Severus arched a brow questioningly, and Harry gave a minute shake of his head. It wasn’t
important. He was simply unnerved by the absolute silence. He glanced at Draco and Victoria
on the other side of him – and smiled. It was no wonder Victoria was actually quiet. Draco
had somehow produced her favourite owl cuddly for her and she was happily gnashing her
teeth on its beak, secure in her daddy’s arms.
She popped the beak out of her mouth and directed a wide, four-tooth grin at Harry when she
saw his attention on her. “Daddy,” she said.
Draco looked down at her sharply, giving her his full attention.
“Daddy,” she repeated happily to Draco.
Draco’s eyes widened. “Did she actually say . . . ?”
Harry’s eyes were wide as well, but he beamed happily as he nodded. “I think she’s actually
got it,” he said. “It sounded close, anyway.”
“Daddy,” Victoria said again, snagging Harry’s robes, as he was standing close enough.
“Yes, she’s got it,” Draco said, smirking at Harry.
“As if she didn’t already have you two wrapped around her little finger,” Lucius drawled
sardonically.
“Shush, Lucius,” Narcissa admonished. “It’s the first time Victoria’s said it this clearly and
it’s a special moment for them.”
“Perhaps they could cut their moment short and remember that we are at an important Order
meeting,” Severus sneered.
“Oh, shut up, Severus,” Harry said irritably, but he did take his eyes off Victoria and Draco to
glance back at the gobsmacked expressions of the people sitting before them. He sheepishly
looked up at Severus. “Sorry,” he murmured.
“Focus, Harry,” Severus said quietly.
Harry rolled his eyes, but gave his attention back to the group. He reckoned this situation did
count as a crisis.
*****
Harry dipped his head forward, rubbing at his temples. He’d essentially handed over the
Order meeting to Severus an hour before, letting him explain everything that they could.
Harry had only listened with half an ear from the beginning, and instead had been watching
the Order members for their reactions.
Some looked like they might be coming around. They were at least listening attentively, with
small frowns and thoughtful expressions. So many, though, still looked extremely angry or
frightened. They were listening to the words Severus was speaking, but they clearly didn’t
believe him.
Harry wasn’t sure what to do. He needed Severus and Draco and the elder Malfoys in the
final battle. Draco would be right there with him as he dealt with Nagini before facing
Voldemort. They would all serve prominent roles in the confrontation. He wasn’t sure he
could risk them, though, if they would simply be taken down by his other allies.
Not that he had much choice. It made him sick to know that Severus would back him anyway
and sacrifice himself even if the Order didn’t come around. He wasn’t positive, but he had the
feeling that even Lucius and Narcissa wouldn’t back down. They would fight, if for no other
reason than to protect their son.
Draco refused point blank to be anywhere other than with Harry. Severus was not impressed,
considering Draco’s history in a crisis. Draco’s direct involvement in the battle had been a
source of contention amongst them as they’d made plans. They’d compromised. Harry would
have his source of strength with him, but Draco would be making use of the cloak.
They were doing what they could to protect them all from Voldemort’s forces. Not that they’d
even been able to address the details of their plans yet. The Order members couldn’t get past
the idea of accepting help from the evil Death Eaters, particularly Severus.
Tonks, in particular, had asked Severus many questions. She seemed fairly certain of his
loyalties now, but she was darting suspicious glances at the Malfoys. Moody was rapid-firing
questions, and his suspicion and anger was palpable.
Harry was ready to scream with frustration. These people had every right to be angry and
suspicious, but he needed them. He didn’t know what he was going to do if he couldn’t get
them to cooperate at least long enough to get through the final battle.
Draco touched his wrist, gently urging Harry to put his hands down. When Harry pulled his
hands away to glance at him, Draco pressed a vial into his palm. Harry gave him a small
smile in appreciation and pulled the stopper, preparing to drink the contents.
“Potter! No!” Moody shouted.
Harry’s head shot up.
“Don’t drink that!” Moody ordered.
With all attention on the two of them now, Harry sighed. “It’s just a Pain-Relieving Potion,”
he said.
“I saw Malfoy give it to you,” Moody growled. “It’s surely poison, or some way to control
you.”
“Or it’ll simply get rid of my headache,” Harry said dryly. Half the Order members looked
horror-stricken as Harry downed the contents of the small vial.
“Harry, how could you risk yourself like that?” Tonks asked.
Several others started in as well, making the protests loudly. In fact, as Harry watched, much
of the table was up in arms again, shouting and yelling.
He sighed, having trouble mustering up the anger he was sure he was supposed to be feeling.
Mainly, he was just disappointed, in the others or himself, he wasn’t quite sure.
“I do believe a change of plans is in order,” Severus sneered.
“Excuse us,” Draco ground out, grabbing Harry’s arm and leading him unceremoniously into
the house.
Draco snatched his wand out of Harry’s pocket and swiftly erected a Silencing Charm, but
neither was aware that once again Severus easily disabled it, borrowing Remus’ wand. Not
only that, but Severus cast a charm to project their voices to the garden.
“Damn it, Harry!” Draco snapped, his Malfoy cool shattered. “You’re not going to fucking
give up!”
“I’m not!” Harry denied. “But what the fuck do you want me to do? I’m beginning to think
Severus was right, and this is impossible.”
Draco snorted. “Since when have you ever believed Severus was right?” he asked.
Harry smiled ruefully. “He’s right far more often than I am,” he said. “And we both know it.”
“He’s not right when it comes to the impossible,” Draco said. “You’re the master when it
comes to that.”
Harry rubbed his sore shoulder absently, until Draco took over, massaging some of the
stiffness out of it.
“Maybe I’ve just tried to achieve one too many impossibles,” Harry said.
“Harry, you started perfecting the art of the impossibles before you were ever born,” Draco
said dryly. “Whether Severus believes it’s possible or not, you’re going to go back out there
and you’re going to get their support to back you in the battle on Saturday.”
Harry exhaled heavily. “Maybe that’s the problem,” he said.
“What is?” Draco asked.
“Think about it,” Harry said. “I don’t even really want to achieve this impossible. I don’t
want everyone going out and risking their lives.”
He pulled away from Draco in frustration to begin pacing, his boot heels clicking a steady
pattern on the floor. Draco leaned against the counter and watched him.
“It’s not fair to you or Severus, or your parents, but there’s a part of me that wants to stay
focused on people’s fear of you, because if we can get past that, we’re going to get to the real
threats,” Harry explained.
“Harry, you need everyone and you can’t protect them all,” Draco said.
“Fuck, Draco, don’t you think I know that?” Harry exclaimed.
“You’re scared,” Draco said quietly.
Harry jerked his head to indicate everyone outside. “There’s enough fear out there already,
don’t you think?” he said bitterly. He shook his head. “We’ve already talked about this. I
don’t have the luxury of being scared, Draco.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “And I’m not scared,” he said. “I’m pissed off at myself
because I foolishly believed that I could get everyone to put enough trust in me to accept the
help of four Death Eaters.”
“You’ve done the impossible before,” Draco said wryly. “Just ask Severus.”
“You’d think if I could convince Severus that the impossible is possible, I could convince
most anyone, wouldn’t you?” Harry said bitterly.
Draco gazed at him speculatively. “Do you think Severus gives a fuck about most of those
people out there?” he asked.
“He cares,” Harry insisted, frowning and wondering at the change of subject.
Draco shook his head in exasperation. “Severus cares about them in the abstract. Yeah, he’s
risking his life for them, but he doesn’t truly care about them personally. Not like you, Harry.
You care personally about every bloody person out there – including the Death Eaters
everyone is so against.”
“Well, everyone deserves a second chance,” Harry said, feeling defensive.
“Merlin, Harry, don’t you understand this yet?” Draco asked. “There’s not one other person
here tonight who could say that and truly believe it.”
“Dumbledore believed it,” Harry said quietly.
“Yes, he did,” Draco agreed. His expression was more serious than Harry had ever seen it.
“I’m not stupid, Harry. I know that one of the main reasons you believe you gave me a
second chance was because you saw Dumbledore offering me one on the top of that tower.
The man was dying and he was giving me a second chance.”
Harry stared at him. They’d never talked about this directly, but it shouldn’t be surprising him
after the visit to the Astronomy Tower the day before.
“Draco, I . . . yeah, you’re right,” he admitted. “When you first showed up with Victoria, I
hated you. I hated what you’d done.” He paused. “Mind you, I’m still not happy with what
you did.”
He exhaled heavily, his boot heels clicking across the floor as he began to pace again in his
agitation. “But I was there. You don’t know how many times I’ve heard you telling
Dumbledore you had no options. How many times I’ve heard Dumbledore offering you a
second chance.”
“Harry, I’m sorry,” Draco said miserably. “It doesn’t excuse what I did, but I was only trying
to protect my family.”
“Gods, Draco, I know that,” Harry said. “I just . . . I offered you a second chance because of
what happened that night. Trying to save you was one of the last things Dumbledore did in
his life and I didn’t want to fail him.”
Draco caught his arm, halting his pacing. “Harry, I didn’t really want to talk about all this –
especially not right now – but you need to understand that it’s not just about Dumbledore
giving me a second chance. You did that, Harry. You were the one who made that decision.
You believe in people. You care about them. Whether they deserve it or not.”
“You deserve it,” Harry said, frowning at him.
“Fucking hell, Harry,” Draco said, shaking his head in exasperation. “I fucked up. Everyone
but you is perfectly aware that I didn’t deserve a second chance. That’s why you’re fighting
them.”
“Well, they’re wrong,” Harry said stubbornly.
Draco snorted. “And everyone must bow down and listen to the wisdom of Harry Potter,” he
drawled sardonically.
“What the fuck’s wrong with you?” Harry snapped. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I am on your side,” Draco said. “And thanking Merlin that I am because the Dark Lord isn’t
nearly as tenacious as you are in his beliefs – and that’s saying something. He doesn’t have a
chance in hell of winning.”
“Of course he’s not going to win, but what the fuck are you talking about?” Harry asked.
Draco laughed before his expression softened. “You don’t understand how special and unique
you truly are, Harry,” he said. “These last two months have been the harshest of your life, but
you’ve just accepted it. I’ve been with you. I’ve watched you. You’ll do anything you fucking
can to help, and most of the time, it’s not even conscious on your part. You just do it.”
“Draco, I’m not special,” Harry said, shaking his head. “I’m just . . . I’m just trying to do
what’s right.”
“Harry, could you possibly be any more noble?” Draco said in fond exasperation. “Or any
less conscious of the fact that you are?”
“Could you possibly be any more full of shite?” Harry asked sweetly.
Draco groaned, throwing his hands up in surrender. “All right, I give up,” he said. He paused.
“But I still say you’re more like Dumbledore than you realize.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m not like Dumbledore,” he said.
“No,” Draco said thoughtfully. “You’re a rather odd mixture of him and Severus.”
Harry choked out an incredulous laugh. “You’ve gone mental,” he said.
Draco gave him a haughty stare. “On the one side, you’ve got this casual, trusting air about
you like Dumbledore. Always out to do good, give people second chances and save the
world,” he said. “Turn around, and you’re just as dangerous and snarly as Severus.”
He paused thoughtfully. “I’m really rather impressed that you can be as snarly as Severus.
That takes a lot of work, but you seem to take to it effortlessly,” he said innocently.
“Piss off, Draco,” Harry said, his tone amused rather than angry.
Draco smirked at him before sobering again. “Harry, you’re a strong leader like Dumbledore
because everyone knows how much you care. You’re a strong leader like Severus because
you’re willing to do whatever it takes to protect everyone.”
“Yeah, well, that’s a problem, isn’t it? I’m willing to do whatever it takes, including align
myself with the evil Death Eaters,” Harry said sarcastically. “I’m sure some of those people
out there have written me off, just as they’ve written off Severus.”
“Probably,” Draco agreed, “but you know the truth, Harry.”

“The truth doesn’t seem to fucking matter,” Harry said. “You’ve been out there. Severus and I
have been telling them the truth all evening, and it doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to you,” Draco said fiercely. “I saw them, and I saw you out there. I saw you
giving up. I don’t really give a fuck if they believe or not. What I care about is whether you
believe.”
“Draco, it doesn’t matter what I believe,” Harry said wearily.
“Fuck you, Potter!” Draco snarled. “If you quit believing in people, we’re all lost. They may
not get that, but I do.”
“Then what the fuck am I supposed to do?” Harry shot back. “My main obstacle at the
moment is that everyone thinks I’m mental or being controlled by four Death Eaters. Because
that’s all you are to them. They don’t see any of the things I see in you.”
“Then tell them,” Draco said. “Make them believe like you do.”
“I can’t tell them those things,” Harry said in exasperation. “Those things are personal and
they’d never believe me even if I did. You’re all out there playing the cool and collected
routine so well that I barely even recognize the people I’ve been living with. Who would
believe you’re sweet and romantic? Who would believe Narcissa mothers me any chance she
gets? Who would believe Lucius held me while I bawled my eyes out after I’d just killed his
sister-in-law? Who would believe Severus let me cry on his shoulder? Who would believe
Severus cried on my shoulder?”
Harry stopped abruptly, sure Draco’s wide-eyed shock matched his own.
“Fuck!” Harry shouted. He turned to punch the nearby wall in frustration, but Draco caught
his arm.
“Let go of me!” Harry shouted.
“No, you’ll just injure your shoulder again,” Draco said.
“Well, it’s not going to fucking matter if Severus finds out I let that slip to you, now is it?”
Harry spat. “Gods, he’s going to kill me.”
“He is not,” Draco retorted. “Quit being so melodramatic.” He paused. “Did Severus really
cry on your shoulder?”
Harry bowed his head, his hands linked at the back of his skull.
“Harry?” Draco said his name in concern.
Harry’s fingers twisted in his hair.
“This is all about Severus for you tonight, isn’t it?” Draco said, questioning, but his tone
indicating he felt he was beginning to understand something. “It’s not about trying to get the
help you need for the battle. Not really. Because you already know everyone will walk into
battle at your word. It’s about Severus.”
Harry exploded.
“Severus doesn’t deserve the way they’re treating him!” he shouted. “He didn’t technically
cry on my shoulder, but I was there. I was the one who witnessed his grieving for
Dumbledore. They don’t get it. They don’t understand. They don’t know.”
“But you know,” Draco said. “You know better than anyone else, don’t you, Harry? That’s
why Severus treats you like a son. That’s why he’s been more open with you than anyone. He
doesn’t treat me nearly as well, and I’m his godson.”
Harry shook his head roughly in denial. “No! I just fucking know what happened,” he said
fiercely. “Everyone’s condemning him because he killed Dumbledore. They can handle
dealing with reformed Death Eaters, but they can’t handle the fact that he killed their leader.
But they don’t understand!”
“You don’t understand, Draco!” he shouted. “If I can’t convince these people of Severus’
integrity, I’ve fucking failed him. I’ll have failed him just like Dumbledore did.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Draco demanded.
“Dumbledore did everything for the fucking greater good,” Harry spat. “You’re right, Draco.
I’m just like him,” he said, self-condemnation lacing his voice.
“Dumbledore sacrificed Severus for the greater good,” he said. “We’ve needed him as a spy,
and Dumbledore knew it was likely to come down to Severus killing him. Dumbledore knew
he was dying anyway and it secured Severus’ position. Dumbledore made that choice, and
Severus complied.”
He shook his head angrily. “I know the truth of what fucking happened that night. If I told
everyone all the details, most of them wouldn’t be condemning Severus any longer. Not for
Dumbledore’s death, at any rate. Merlin knows they’d condemn him for any number of other
reasons,” he said bitterly.
He glared at Draco. “But I can’t tell them what happened . . . for the greater fucking good,”
he said harshly.
“The Dark Lord’s secrets,” Draco murmured.
“Yes, Voldemort’s secrets,” Harry sneered. “Those secrets that are going to allow me to
finally kill him on Saturday. The task Dumbledore assigned me. The one I don’t dare explain
to anyone because I happen to value all our lives.”
“Veritaserum. Pensieve memories. They’re not options,” he spat. “It was Dumbledore himself
who ordered me to keep the secrets I hold. I spoke to his bloody portrait yesterday and he just
told me again to hold them close. He told me he had faith that I would be able to bring
everyone through this.”
“How?!” he exclaimed. “It’s impossible to convince everyone out there that we’re all on the
same side because I can’t tell them everything!”
“All right, I get it,” Draco said. “Just calm down.”
Harry heaved a sigh of frustration, resting against the counter. He rolled his head, attempting
to ease some of the tension. “Draco, I hate to tell you this, but you’re not one of the ones I’ve
needed to convince,” he said dryly.
Draco huffed out a laugh. He placed his hands on the counter on either side of Harry’s hips,
boxing him in. “No, but you needed a break. Out there, you were ready to just quit,” he said.
He paused. “Or explode.”
“I didn’t know what to do,” Harry said. “I still don’t. We haven’t accomplished a bloody
thing hiding out in here.”
“Yes, we have,” Draco said, disagreeing with him.
“And what’s that?” Harry asked.
“You’ve reminded yourself of some of the reasons you’re fighting so hard,” Draco said
matter-of-factly. “You’ve reminded yourself that the greater good includes saving everyone
you possibly can – even stray Death Eaters.”
Harry shook his head, smiling. “Stray Death Eaters are a terrible lot of trouble,” he said.
“But you love us anyway,” Draco said smugly.
“Yeah, I do,” Harry said softly, his hands reaching up to twine in Draco’s hair and pull his
head down for a kiss. Draco kissed him gently for a few moments, before reluctantly pulling
back.
“We should get back out there,” Harry sighed. “I don’t know how long we’ve been in here,
and who knows what’s been happening while we’ve been gone.”
Draco frowned. “I’m surprised nobody’s come to fetch us,” he said.
Harry shrugged, unconcerned. “I’m sure Severus and Remus knew I needed a chance to get
out some of my frustration and calm down again,” he said. “Although, while Severus and
Remus may know why we came in here, most of the others are probably thinking you’re . . .
hell, I don’t know what they’re thinking. Not sure what harm they thought you were doing to
me by giving me a bloody Pain-Relieving Potion.”
“Maybe you should point out that many of them have had doses from that same batch, and it
hasn’t poisoned them,” Draco said dryly.
Harry blinked. “I’d forgotten that most of them don’t know I’ve been the one responsible for
supplying the healing potions this summer,” he said.
“You?” Draco scoffed. “Harry, you volunteered to brew the bloody potions for the Order, but
haven’t helped brew any of them since the first batch.”
“I reckon I haven’t been keeping track of the potions supplies lately,” Harry said, feeling
guilty. “Do you think Pomfrey is needing more? She would’ve told me if she was running
out, wouldn’t she?”
Draco stared at him, disbelief written all over his face. “Harry, when are you going to figure
out that you can’t do everything? Madam Pomfrey hasn’t said anything to you because we’ve
been sending her more supplies regularly. Lupin’s been checking with her and keeping track
of what potions are needed. Severus, Father and I have been brewing them. Mum and I
packed up and sent almost everything we had to the Ministry on Saturday.”
“Oh,” Harry said, taking in that information. “I’ll have to be sure and tell them you’ve been
the ones responsible, not me. You’ve still had Winky delivering them?”
“Where the fuck is your head?” Draco asked. “Of course we sent them with Winky. Had her
deliver them straight to Pomfrey, as usual. Or rather, gave them to Winky and had your
precious Dobby deliver them to Pomfrey as usual.”
Harry rolled his eyes at the mention of Dobby. “Your father been complaining about the lack
of enough house-elves?” he asked.
“Not exactly,” Draco said, smirking. “There might’ve been a mention by Severus that it
would’ve been better for all of us if we’d simply followed Dobby’s lead and joined you years
ago. I don’t think it pleases Father that a house-elf made a smarter decision.”
“Oh gods,” Harry gasped, choking on his laughter. “I can’t believe your father is still
speaking to me.”
“I thought you’d appreciate that,” Draco said, shaking his head. “Of course he’s still speaking
to you, though. Better to be on your side, but Father resents Dobby more than ever.”
“I’m sure he does,” Harry said, trying to bring his laughter under control.
“So, are you feeling better?” Draco asked.
“Yes, you’ve restored my confidence,” Harry said ruefully. “My hero,” he added
dramatically, laughing when Draco scowled at him.
“You’re the bloody hero boy, not me,” Draco retorted. “Now, get out there and start acting
like one.”
“I still don’t know what to tell them,” Harry pointed out.
“I think . . . I think you’re going to have to get personal,” Draco said. “Harry, everything
we’ve said in here is a lot more real than the dry facts you and Severus have been presenting
them with out there.”
“Severus gets pissed off at me enough for wearing my heart on my sleeve,” Harry said.
“Somehow, I can’t see him being happy with me setting his out on display.”
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t tell them about Severus crying on your shoulder,” Draco
admitted. “He wouldn’t kill you, but I’d rather not see him skin you alive, either.”
Harry snorted in amusement. “Thanks for that vote of confidence,” he said sarcastically.
“You know damned good and well Severus would never harm a hair on your head,” Draco
said, smirking at him.
“Yeah, I’ll remind you of that statement when I’m bruised up after the next two days of
training with him,” Harry said dryly.
Draco winced. “True,” he conceded.
“Besides,” Harry said. “What am I supposed to tell them about you?”
Draco exhaled heavily. “I reckon telling them that I went to you because I was terrified out of
my mind will fuck with my image, won’t it?”
“Um, probably,” Harry said, trying not to smile.
“Don’t laugh at me, you prat,” Draco said, smiling faintly.
“I wasn’t,” Harry protested, but his smile broke free.
“I reckon telling them I fell in love with their hero boy probably won’t help my image,
either,” Draco said.
“Are you ashamed of me?” Harry mock-pouted.
“Everyone’s going to think I’ve gone soft,” Draco exclaimed.
“Ah, you’re ashamed of yourself,” Harry said in amusement. “It’s all right, Draco. Your
image of cool arrogance and pure evilness might be tarnished forever, but I think you’re still
an obnoxious prat often enough that you shouldn’t have to worry.”
“Thank you, Harry,” Draco drawled sardonically.
“You’re welcome,” Harry said brightly.
“Come on,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. “We stay in here any longer and Severus will be
skinning both of us alive.”
They stole another kiss before finally leaving the kitchen and going back out into the garden.
They stopped abruptly, taking in the scene before them. Severus was scowling. Many of the
other people were smiling. Most of their friends and family looked like they were
suppressing laughter.
“What’s going on?” Harry asked warily.
“You, brat child of mine,” Severus said silkily, “will be brewing all the necessary potions for
the hospital wing for the next year. Draco, as well.”
Harry gaped at him in shocked confusion. “Why us?!” he protested. “And we don’t even
know if we’re going back to school yet,” he added. “And what does potions have to do with
anything?”
“Perhaps you’d rather be skinned alive?” Severus suggested smoothly.
Harry’s eyes widened. He glanced at Draco, who appeared to be mirroring his stunned
expression.
“Oh, fuck,” Draco breathed.
“What?” Harry asked, desperately hoping Draco wasn’t going to give him the answer he was
now expecting to hear.
“I didn’t cast the Severus-proof Silencing Charm,” Draco admitted.
Harry turned his head slowly. “You didn’t,” he said to Severus.
“Could the two of you possibly shift through more moods in only a twenty minute time
span?” Severus asked sarcastically, mimicking their earlier comments.
Harry swallowed heavily, still not wanting to believe.
His eyes darted around to all the other people, many of whom nodded to indicate that, yes,
Severus had indeed broken the Silencing Charm and, yes, somehow they’d all heard his and
Draco’s conversation.
“But I still have your wand,” Harry protested.
Remus waved his wand, smiling.
Harry felt the heat of intense mortification, surely flaming his face a brilliant red. “Severus, I,
well, um . . . oh, shite,” he breathed as Severus stalked toward him. He closed his eyes,
waiting for imminent death.
He started as a kiss was pressed to his forehead, and his eyes flew open to stare up at
Severus.
“I thought perhaps a practical demonstration of my heart on display was in order,” Severus

said dryly.
“Severus, I’m so sorry,” Harry said miserably. “I didn’t even mean to tell Draco, and I, well, I
didn’t know I was being broadcasted to everyone else.”
“Come here, child,” Severus said, pulling Harry into a hug and putting him out of his misery.
“No matter what happens, you’ve not failed me.” He paused. “You’ve perhaps humiliated
me, but you’ve not failed me.”
“You’re humiliated? I’m the one who’s made a fool out of himself,” Harry muttered, burying
his face in Severus’ robes.
“Indeed. However, spontaneous interactions appear to be a powerful tool of communication

for you,” Severus said dryly.
“What do you mean?” Harry asked.
“Quit hiding in my robes and come see for yourself,” Severus said, gently pushing Harry
away. Severus paused to kiss Draco on the forehead before turning and stalking back to the
table without another word.
Harry glanced at the others. Severus had shocked most everyone by showing his affection for
Harry and Draco. Even Remus, Narcissa and Lucius appeared to be surprised by Severus’
actions.
Frowning, Harry looked back at Draco. He felt a little better, seeing Draco’s cheeks flushed
pink in embarrassment. At least he wasn’t the only one. Draco was blinking away his
astonishment.
“Severus hasn’t kissed me on the forehead since before I started Hogwarts,” he said.
“This is a good thing, though, right?” Harry asked, feeling uncertain about everything.
Despite his embarrassment, Draco’s eyes showed amusement.
“Yes, Harry, this is a good thing. I did say that by the time the night was over, everyone
would know exactly how Harry Potter felt about everything,” he said. “I just didn’t expect
everyone to find out exactly how the rest of us felt about you.”
He grasped Harry’s hand. “Come on, Harry. You’ve got an Order meeting to finish.”
Harry allowed himself to be led back, bemused by the change in atmosphere. He stood at the
head of the table, simply staring at everyone. What the hell had he said to Draco in the
kitchen that had changed things so drastically? Whatever he’d said, it had affected Draco as
well. Earlier, Draco had been mostly showing cool aloofness, but now Draco was standing
behind him, arms wrapped casually around his waist.
“Dumbledore would be proud of you, boy,” Moody said in his gruff manner.
Harry flushed, not having a clue what to say.
McGonagall gave him a nod of approval. Mrs. Weasley was beaming proudly. Narcissa and
Remus were smiling warmly at him and Draco. Lucius directed a wry, resigned smirk at
them.
“So, what’s the plan for Saturday?” Tonks asked brightly.
“Uh, I –” He looked to Severus, hoping for some help.
Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, exhibiting his exasperation with Harry. “You know
the plans, Harry,” he said. “You need to enlighten them if you expect to receive their
assistance.”
“I know that,” Harry said irritably. “I just –”
Draco placed a kiss to his temple. “Relax,” he murmured. “Everyone here is on your side.”
Harry forced the air out of his lungs slowly, relaxing in Draco’s embrace. It seemed all the
personal details he’d inadvertently revealed had done the trick, and he reckoned he was being
a fool to question it. Accept it gratefully and move on.
He had an attentive audience as he began to speak again. This time, making real progress.
*****
Author’s Note: I wanted to warn everyone that I won’t be posting again until the end of
May. I know, I’ve been posting every couple of weeks, but my plan is to take this time to
actually get this story finished. I hope! There’s still a fair amount of fic left, which means you
should end up with a very large update and the satisfaction of being able to read the ending
by the end of the month. Until then! ~~Biza
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Notes

A/N: Well, I reckon it’s good to know that I’m generally considered reliable. *smiles* I must
admit, I rather expected all the questions I’ve received about the promised update over the
last couple of days. But in my time zone, I am less than twenty-fours late for my self-
imposed end of May deadline. I came close! It’s simply taken a LOT of time to write and edit
the remaining quarter of this story. Considering that I’m now posting the remaining fourteen
chapters, perhaps I’ll be forgiven! Enjoy! ~~Biza
Chapter Forty-Nine
Harry went downstairs with Draco for breakfast on Friday, wondering what the new day
would bring. The entire week had brought about one stressful event after another and the
tension was mounting steadily. He didn’t understand why he was feeling the pressure more
today than he was other days, but he was feeling it, nonetheless.
Seating himself at the table, he tried to relax. The others were chatting animatedly and he
reflected that meals at Grimmauld Place now were reminiscent of meals at Hogwarts. Sitting
at the table with this group of Slytherins wasn’t all that different from sitting with the
Gryffindors. Different people, but the conversations were eerily similar. It was comparable to
the first days back in a new year when everyone was catching up with each other. There was
a lot of the typical gossip and, as usual, a lot of it seemed to centre around him.
He half-heartedly listened to everyone discussing the events of the week, but he started
tuning out when their talk started overwhelming him. It was one thing to try to keep up with
his busy life. It was quite another to hear about it. He could hear the fear, the awe, the hope in
their voices and it was both depressing and terrifying him.
Turning his thoughts toward his training didn’t help him feel better. The day before had been
spent learning defensive spells – shields in particular – while downing Pain-Relieving
Potions like there was no tomorrow. He shuddered as he realized that there may be a
tomorrow for him, but he couldn’t guarantee that he’d be around for the day after.
He didn’t hold out any hope that his shoulder would heal completely before facing
Voldemort. He’d developed a tolerance for the non-addictive Pain-Relieving Potions, they
were only effective for so long, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask Severus for anything
stronger. It would be an admission of defeat.
It was when he started thinking that it didn’t matter if he took the stronger, addictive potions
because he’d be dead in a couple of days that he started scaring himself. He could live with
his shoulder aching. Death wasn’t an option.
Death. Scrimgeour’s funeral was going to be that afternoon, having been put off due to other
funerals. He hadn’t liked Scrimgeour, but the man had died a hero’s death. If there was such a
thing. He’d died defending the Ministry he served. Fudge would have hidden himself away,
but Scrimgeour had fought. Bravely.
Harry couldn’t handle the thought of going. Thinking about Scrimgeour led him to thoughts
of that corridor, and he couldn’t afford to think about that. He desperately needed to pull
himself out of this depressing mood, and going to a funeral and thinking about death wasn’t
going to help. Not that Severus would risk allowing him to make a public appearance,
anyway.
As far as he knew, Severus would be ushering him and Draco back to the training room
immediately after breakfast. He wasn’t looking forward to it. Severus had been pushing him
incredibly hard, and they’d worked late the night before until it was all Harry and Draco
could do to drag themselves to bed.
He knew Severus was building his skills up to something but he still didn’t know what it was
and it was frustrating him to no end. He wanted to inform Severus that he was only going to
be able to master so much before the final confrontation, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to
quit training. He’d been frustrated with Severus’ teaching methods when he was originally
supposed to be learning Occlumency, and quitting that had ended in disaster. He wasn’t going
to make the same mistake. So, if Severus wanted him to train up until the moment of the final
battle, even if it seemed pointless, then so be it.
He absently swirled his scrambled eggs with his fork, wondering if the proverbial weight on
his shoulders could get any heavier.
“Harry?”
Harry glanced up at Draco, hearing the concern and wondering what he must look like. “I’m
fine,” he muttered. “I’ll be in the training room when you finish breakfast.”
Draco frowned but let him go, letting him have at least a few minutes alone to pull himself
together.
*****
“Fuck!” Harry cursed, picking himself up off the floor.
“One of these days we are going to have to work on your vocabulary,” Severus said calmly.
Harry glared at him. “My fucking vocabulary is the least of my problems,” he ground out.
“Indeed,” Severus agreed.
“I’m not even going to be duelling!” Harry exclaimed. “All I have to do is kill Nagini and
Voldemort. That’s it! I don’t have to duel any bloody Death Eaters! So why do I have to learn
this?”
Severus simply gazed at him impassively, ignoring his outburst.
Harry threw his head back in frustration. He huffed air out through his nose, staring at the
ceiling. He was exhausted, his body ached everywhere, his shoulder was throbbing. And
there weren’t any solutions written on the bloody ceiling.
He rolled his head, stretching and popping his neck. Remus, Draco and Lucius were standing
off to the side, out of the line of fire. Draco had managed to get out of having to learn this
spell.
“How old were you when you mastered this?” he asked Severus.
“Old enough,” Severus answered. “You must learn to feel the magic first.”
Harry grit his teeth, closed his eyes and nodded.
“Many witches and wizards never learn to cast it,” Severus added blithely.
“But I need to learn it,” Harry verified, stalling for time more than anything, as he already
knew the answer.
“Yes,” Severus said, allowing Harry his small break. “No matter how precisely we plan, we
can not predict what will happen tomorrow. I had hoped for you to learn this spell long before
this confrontation. I did not expect it to occur this summer.”
“Sorry for wanting to get rid of Voldemort sooner rather than later,” Harry said sarcastically.
Severus said nothing and Harry bowed his head. Taking his frustration out on Severus wasn’t
helping. But Merlin, Severus was expecting too much from him. Or was he expecting too
much from himself? He didn’t know anymore. He was angry with himself for not being able
to master this. Severus thought he could do it, so it must be possible.
One spell. One fundamental spell that could help him more than any other if their plans fell
apart. He let Severus’ voice explain it again in his mind.
“This is a blocking spell. While it is technically a shield, it is intercepting the curses before
they can be completed, hence the incantation – Interceptum. Like any wordless spell, it
requires a great deal of concentration when you are first learning it. You must focus your
magic. It is also more difficult because it requires you to concentrate on your opponent’s
magic, as that is what you are blocking before it can be completed.”
The words didn’t really mean anything to him. He needed to feel it. He needed to feel the
magic, and he hadn’t been. He’d been failing time and again, focusing on Severus saying the
spells instead of the magic itself.
Eyes still closed, he pictured that night on Hogwarts grounds. Snape lazily flicking away his
curses. He shuddered at the memory, but focused on the wordless charm Snape had used to
block him. He pictured that casual indifference. His spells had meant nothing to Snape the
Death Eater.
That’s what he needed to learn. He needed to be able to automatically dispel curses aimed at
him from the Death Eaters who meant him harm. Even while that anger, fear and adrenaline
was coursing through him. Emotion. Perhaps that was the key.
He allowed the memory of that night to flood his body, feeling it all – the pain, the
frustration, the inability to stop the Death Eater from getting away.
He rubbed his thumb along his wand, feeling the smooth wood and focusing on the magic it
contained. He remembered the ease with which Snape blocked him time and again. He
remembered the fight, the real confrontation.
He jerked his head in a brief nod.
“Stup—”
Eyes still closed, Harry felt it. He felt the thrum of magic coming from Severus. With the
added push of adrenaline flowing through him, Harry thought the spell, Interceptum.
It was split second, but it worked. He’d blocked the spell before it could be completed.
“Petrif—”
Interceptum.
Snape fired spell after spell at him, moving silently around him. Harry kept his eyes closed,
turning with the magic. He didn’t hear a word, but he felt the Levicorpus spell being cast, and
blocked it. Just as Severus had done that night to him. Snape continued firing spells, wordless
and otherwise.
“Cruc—”
Interceptum.
He’d blocked the spell before he registered what Severus had been casting. His eyes flew
open in shock. Severus was standing calmly, wand at his side, his expression one of intense
satisfaction.
“You just cast the Cruciatus Curse at me!” Harry accused.
“No, you were able to block the magic before I was able to complete the spell,” Severus said.
“The spell itself can not be blocked.”
Harry opened and closed his mouth. “I did it,” he said in wonder.
“You did,” Severus agreed.
“You were brilliant!” Draco said, sauntering over and risking Severus’ wrath by giving Harry
a congratulatory kiss.
“Draco, get off of him,” Severus ordered.
Draco broke the kiss, but he didn’t let go of Harry. He smirked at Severus. “I think Harry
deserves to be rewarded,” he declared haughtily.
Severus glared at him, but Draco’s smirk simply widened.
“I do not believe you will get any more work out of them, Severus,” Lucius drawled in
amusement.
“They deserve a break,” Remus said quietly in agreement.
Severus scowled at them, obviously wanting to argue.
“One more round to make sure it wasn’t a fluke, and then I get to quit for the day,” Harry
bargained.
Draco sniggered. “We’re going to make a true Slytherin out of you yet,” he said.
“Two more rounds,” Severus said to Harry, ignoring Draco. “Once against Lucius, and once
against Remus.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “All right,” he agreed, seeing the reasoning behind that. Besides, it
wasn’t nearly so painful when he was actually casting the blocking spell right. He’d begun to
suspect that Severus would be hexing him until it was time for the final battle if he hadn’t
finally figured out this spell.
“And I want you to do it with your eyes closed again,” Severus said, eyeing Harry
speculatively.
Harry shrugged his agreement, inwardly wincing at the throb of his sore shoulder.
The others moved back and Lucius began casting spells at him. He moved around the room
and varied the timing of his spells, attempting to catch Harry off guard. Harry felt when
Remus first cast a spell and whipped around to deflect it. The two of them continued to cast
spells in alternation, keeping Harry moving. He was panting with exertion when they finally
stopped.
“If they had truly wished to take you down, they could have easily, but you did well going up
against both of them,” Severus said.
Harry simply nodded, out of breath.
“How could you do that with your eyes closed?” Draco asked, the question blurted out in a
tone of confused wonder.
Harry didn’t answer, bent over with his hands on his knees. They’d worked him hard, but it
had actually been easier to do it this time than it had been with Severus.
“He is feeling the magic itself,” Severus explained. “It can not be seen with the eyes. With a
larger repertoire of spells, and practice, he will become a superior dueller.”
Looking up at him, Harry was surprised at the matter-of-fact confidence in Severus’

compliment. Surprised that Severus had even given him such a complement.
“This is because of his extra magic from the Dark Lord, isn’t it?” Draco said, his brow
furrowed thoughtfully. “That’s why he can do this now when it’ll probably take me another
couple years before I can master this.”
“I believe so,” Severus agreed.
Harry had already guessed that, as Severus hadn’t made Draco learn it. Draco hadn’t been
marked as a bloody equal to a Dark Lord. It wasn’t exactly something to be proud of, as far
as Harry was concerned.
“Harry has always been able to master spells at a younger age than average,” Remus said.
“It doesn’t matter anyway, Draco,” Harry said. “I have to fight Voldemort tomorrow night.
It’s not like I’m going to really master this in time.”
“I wasn’t upset with you learning it,” Draco said, understanding the underlying message of
Harry’s words. “I’m just curious as to how powerful you really are.”
Harry shook his head in fond amusement. “You and your power trips,” he said.
“Draco is right, Harry,” Lucius said. “You are a very powerful young man, and only more
training will determine just how powerful you truly are.”
Harry shrugged dismissively, and promptly cursed himself. Shrugging his shoulders was a
force of habit he really needed to quit with his shoulder still acting up. He’d tried not to show
anything, but Severus’ eyes narrowed.
“I’ll live,” Harry said shortly, before Severus could question him about it. “I’m going to take
a shower.” He turned and walked out, not wanting to get into another argument about his
shoulder. Of course, Draco followed and insisted on an argument anyway.
“What do you mean, you’ll live?” Draco demanded. “Your fucking shoulder’s killing you,
isn’t it?”
“What do you expect, Draco?” Harry asked. “We’ve spent the last two days doing nothing
but training. My entire body hurts.”
“Yeah, mine, too,” Draco said. “And I can’t fucking stand it.”
“You’ll live,” Harry said flatly, slamming into their room and heading straight for the shower,
kicking his shoes off along the way. With his back still presented to Draco and biting his
tongue, he grasped the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it aside as well.
He cursed himself for thinking his shoulder was healed well enough that morning. Wearing a
t-shirt had obviously been one of the worst decisions he’d made for awhile. It was decided,
he thought, wearing a button-down for battle was going to have to suit Draco’s fashion tastes.
Standing on one leg at a time, he yanked his socks off. Draco stilled his hands when he went
to unbutton his jeans. Harry focused on their hands, refusing to meet Draco’s gaze.
Draco brushed his lips against Harry’s shoulder. “I don’t know how you do it,” he murmured.
He trailed gentle kisses along the curve of shoulder and into the crook of Harry’s neck. Harry
sighed as the kisses turned into sucking at the tender skin. This was so much better than
arguing.
Draco worked his way up to Harry’s ear, along his jaw, and eventually to his mouth. They got
lost in the kiss for several minutes, tongues lazily tangling together. Draco’s hands went back
to the fastening of his jeans.
“Draco,” Harry began. He didn’t say any more, not sure how to tell his boyfriend that he
really wasn’t feeling capable of doing anything more than kiss at the moment. Much to his
own regret.
“Shhh, I know,” Draco said. “Just let me take care of you.”
Harry’s instinct was to argue that he could take care of himself, but he kept himself from
saying it aloud. Draco already knew he was capable. Draco waited for his nod before turning
to the bathtub instead of the shower.
“The bath?” Harry questioned in surprise. They’d never used it. But then, Harry never had
time.
“Yes, we could both use a good soak in the hot water,” Draco said. Harry couldn’t argue with
that, and he continued to watch Draco curiously.
Draco opened the cupboard over the sink. The first thing he pulled out was a couple of Pain-
Relieving Potions, passing one to Harry and keeping one for himself.
“You’re stocking them in our room now?” Harry asked in amusement. He wasn’t about to tell
Draco that he was downing them twice as often as Draco realized. He was fairly certain
Severus knew and that was enough.
“I keep them everywhere,” Draco said dryly. “I’ve always been taught to carry a
handkerchief with me at all times. Now, I make sure I don’t go anywhere without potions.”
He’d gone back to the cupboard, pulling out several bottles and pouring some of each into the
bathwater. The tub was soon full of bubbles and the air was filled with an aromatic steam.
Harry was reminded of the Prefect’s bathroom. Somehow, a bubble bath seemed normal
there. He wasn’t so sure about a bubble bath at home.
“Do you have something against bubbles?” Draco asked, eyeing him and obviously
attempting not to laugh. “You were frowning at them quite fiercely,” he added, when Harry
glanced at him in bewilderment.
Harry started to shrug and thought better of it. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a bubble bath at
home,” he said. “Only once in the Prefect’s bathroom at Hogwarts and that was with Myrtle
and an egg.”
Both Draco’s eyebrows arched into his hairline, and he simply stared at Harry for long
seconds. “Well, I reckon I’d be leery of bubbles then, too,” he finally said.
Harry gave him a lopsided smile as Draco’s hands once again went to the fastenings of his
jeans.
“I’m sure this experience will be much better,” Harry said, inhaling sharply as Draco’s hands
glided down his thighs as he removed the rest of Harry’s clothing.
Draco arched a brow as Harry’s cock twitched in front of his nose.
“I’m sore and exhausted, not dead,” Harry retorted.
“Into the tub,” Draco ordered. “It’ll help.”
Harry settled into the bath, watching Draco undress and listening to him list and describe all
the things he’d put in the water. There was a potion that would help relax and ease sore
muscles. There was also a cleansing agent in the water that meant he didn’t have to use soap,
or even scrub. He only had to sit and let the magic do its work. Harry was amused as Draco
glossed quickly over a couple of the other items, suspecting that whatever they were had
something to do with Draco’s skin always being so soft.
“You’re sure it’s safe to mix all that together?” Harry asked as Draco climbed in the tub
behind him.
“I do it all the time,” Draco said easily.

Harry tried desperately to suppress his laughter as he leaned back against Draco’s chest.
Draco started to wrap his arms around Harry and paused. “You’re laughing at me,” he
accused.
“No, I’m sorry,” Harry said, his laughter bubbling over. “I’ve just never had a bath that
sounded like a potion was being brewed in it.”
“Oh, I forgot, you only take baths with ghosts and eggs,” Draco said sarcastically. “Who let
you in the Prefect’s bathroom anyway?”
Harry was silent, thinking back to the events of fourth year. He settled more comfortably
against Draco, both of them sinking lower into the water so that it was up to their necks and
letting Draco’s “ingredients” do their work.
“Harry?”
“Cedric gave me the password so I could get in there fourth year,” Harry admitted.
“Oh,” Draco said. “I reckoned it was fourth year with the egg, but . . . ,” he trailed off.
“It’s all right,” Harry said. “The egg was rather a nightmare, though.”
“So’s Myrtle,” Draco muttered.
Harry sniggered. “Does she fancy you, too?” he teased.
“Well, I’ve never taken a bath with her,” Draco drawled.
They spent the next hour simply talking and soaking in the tub, sharing stories from school
and avoiding any discussion about what was to happen the next day.
“Feeling better?” Draco finally asked.
Harry mentally took stock of his body. He could still feel his shoulder, even though the pain
was only a faint ache at the moment. Otherwise, he was a little surprised to realize that he felt
great.
“My shoulder’s a little tender, but I’m fine,” he said bemusedly. He held his hands up. “I
don’t even have any wrinkles.”
Draco snorted softly. “Of course you don’t,” he said. “Malfoys don’t do wrinkles.”
“What is this? Magic bath?” Harry asked in wonderment.
“We are wizards,” Draco pointed out. “Lay back and I’ll wash your hair.”
Harry was subjected to the glorious pleasure of Draco’s fingers massaging his scalp. Draco
refused to let him return the favour, though, quickly cleaning his own hair.
“Ready to get out?” Draco asked.

“Mmmm, if I have to,” Harry murmured. He was feeling rather boneless and it was nice.
Going back into the real world didn’t sound like much fun.
“If you get out, I’ll fuck you,” Draco promised.
Harry perked up in interest, in more ways than one.
Draco’s smirk was smug. “Thought you might be ready for that now,” he said.
Harry had never felt so pampered and cherished in his life. Draco helped him out of the tub
and dried him off with a fluffy towel before leading him back to the bedroom. Harry was
encouraged to lie down and simply enjoy.
Despite the promise he made in the bathroom, Draco produced a bottle of massage oil and
proceeded to knead it into every muscle of Harry’s body. Harry decided he’d been very
wrong about feeling boneless in the bath. He wasn’t sure he could move now if his life
depended on it. He was surprised to feel mentally alert, though, and wondered what else had
been in that bath water. Or, maybe there was something in the massage oil.
“Are you awake?” Draco asked, his voice soft.
Harry gave him a lazy smile, opening his eyes halfway to look at him. “Just wondering what
you’ve drugged me with,” he said. “I feel absolutely brilliant.”
Draco smirked lightly. “I’ll never tell,” he said.
Kneeling between Harry’s legs, he let his hands glide smoothly up Harry’s thighs. Thumbs
teased against his balls as fingers splayed against his hip bones, framing his cock.
“Ready for more?” Draco asked.
Harry swallowed heavily before nodding.
Draco knelt above him, dipping his head to kiss Harry thoroughly. Tongues met and tangled,
connecting them. Harry grasped Draco’s hips, attempting to connect the rest of their bodies,
but Draco resisted.
“Not yet,” Draco murmured against Harry’s throat.
“Draco, I just want to feel you,” Harry said.
He groaned, a mixture of pleasure and frustration, as Draco ignored him. Tilting his head to
the side as Draco trailed kisses along his neck, he surrendered to Draco’s ministrations.
Clenching his fists in the sheets, he wondered briefly about Draco’s need to take control this
time. And it was clearly a need. Draco wasn’t allowing for anything else and Harry wasn’t
being given an opportunity to reciprocate.
Not that it was a particularly difficult task to give himself over to Draco. The massage had
reached a new level of intensity as Draco’s hands smoothed over his body. Earlier, Draco had
been running his hands over Harry’s body in rhythmic, steady strokes. Now, his hands
roamed. Touching randomly, reverently. Fluttering fingertips dancing lightly over his ribs
before tweaking his nipples.
Left gasping from that sensation, Harry was surprised when Draco’s hands were suddenly
stroking his hip bones. He was being explored, tested, his reactions studied. And he wasn’t
sure that he was going to be able to endure this for much longer.
“Draco, please,” he breathed.
Draco flashed him a smile as he allowed his thumbs to skim the length of Harry’s cock. Then
he was stroking Harry’s inner thighs. Not sure whether to be disappointed at the lack of
attention to his straining erection or excited at the prospect of what was to come, Harry
eagerly spread his legs wide.
Unfortunately, Draco didn’t take advantage of the blatant invitation. It was frustrating when
he instead took the opportunity to sit back and simply look at Harry. His left hand absently
stroked Harry’s ankle, but that was the only point of physical contact.
“What are you doing?” Harry asked.
“Memorizing you,” Draco said.
Harry blinked in response. “Why would you –”
He stopped and stared at Draco, some of the lustful haze lifting from his mind. Something in
Draco’s voice was off. Draco was undoubtedly turned on. His hard cock jutting up against his
stomach proved that.
“And trying to calm down a little before I can do anything else,” Draco added. He gave Harry
a rueful half-smile when Harry managed to tear his eyes away from Draco’s cock to meet his
gaze directly.
“Are you all right?” Harry asked.
Draco nodded. “I just need –” He abruptly cut himself off, averting his gaze and scowling
irritably at the sheets as if they’d offended him horribly.
That left so much up in the air, and Harry wasn’t sure what Draco had intended to say. Need
to fuck you. Need to love you. Need to take control. None of the above? All of the above?
Memorizing. Control. The pieces came together in Harry’s mind and he realized that Draco
was absolutely terrified this would be their last night together. Judging by the scowl on
Draco’s face, he wasn’t particularly happy that Harry now realized how vulnerable he was
feeling.
Draco couldn’t control the events of the next day, but he could control what was happening
between the two of them. Harry had felt twinges of selfishness that he was the one receiving
such special treatment and Draco wasn’t getting anything out of it. Looking at Draco now, he
realized that Draco was getting what he needed.
“Love me?” Harry murmured, turning it into a question. It sounded sappy, and he wasn’t sure
Draco would appreciate it, but he voiced the full question, “Will you please go back to what
you were doing and make love to me?”
Draco’s eyes fluttered shut and he sucked in a shuddery breath. But Harry had said the right
words. Without ever answering verbally, Draco resumed his chosen task. Harry would swear
to anybody who asked that Draco was worshipping his body.
As Draco prepared him, their eyes met. Harry could see the desire reflected in the eyes turned
silver, but he could also see the love. He realized this really wasn’t about sex at all. Draco slid
inside and they were connected – physically, emotionally, mentally – this moment was theirs
and no one would ever be able to take it away from them.
Harry wrapped his legs tight around Draco’s waist, holding him in place. He didn’t want to
ever let go, no matter how unrealistic that might be. Draco had stilled, allowing them both a
chance to catch their breath. As much as Harry wanted Draco to start moving again, he
wanted to hold onto this moment. He smiled in sudden understanding. He wanted to
memorize this feeling.
“Gods, Harry, you’re gorgeous,” Draco breathed.
Still smiling and opening eyes he hadn’t realized he’d closed, Harry looked up at Draco. “I’m
not a girl,” he said.
Draco blinked once before his eyes reflected comprehension and he smiled in return. “You’ve
called me gorgeous before, and I’m not a girl, either,” he said.
Harry reached up to brush away a sweaty lock of hair from Draco’s eyes. The eyes that were
bright with emotion and reflecting so much warmth. He ran his other hand over the moist
skin of Draco’s chest, slick with a sheen of sweat and massage oil transferred from Harry’s
body.
“That’s because you are gorgeous,” Harry said softly. He felt full to bursting, in more ways
than one, and couldn’t figure out how to express himself without turning into a complete sap.
Physical, however, he knew how to do that.
Tangling his hand in Draco’s hair, he pulled him down so that he could kiss him. And Draco
began to finally move. Slow, gentle, rocking movements that sparked waves of sensation
throughout Harry’s body. The kiss turned hungry, desperate, as Draco’s pace quickened.
Harry had been at a heightened state of arousal for too long. He knew he was going to come
soon and broke the kiss to try to warn Draco, but he couldn’t get the words out. He sucked air
into his lungs before releasing it in a long moan as Draco’s hand slipped between their bodies
and grasped Harry’s cock.
Draco’s hand was hot and gripped tightly and – oh, it felt so good – slid easily with the
massage oil. Draco was thrusting into him harder and faster and the rhythm changed and he
was filling Harry and Harry was coming.
“You’re gorgeous,” Draco repeated, his breathing ragged, “and you’re mine.”
Harry simply nodded, pulling Draco down and holding him close, not caring that they were
sweaty and sticky.
*****
Harry woke late the next morning with Draco pressing against every inch of his backside,
from head to toes. He kept his eyes closed, reliving the night before. Draco had made him
feel special in ways that no one else could. Winky had brought them dinner in their room and
no one else had disturbed them. The entire night had been about them – and only them.
They’d tuned out the rest of the world.
He didn’t want to think about the fact that it could’ve been their last night together. He knew
it had been on Draco’s mind from the sad looks Harry had caught on his face now and then.
Harry had given him something else to focus on every time.
He twined his fingers with the hand resting on his stomach. He was going to make damned
sure that it wasn’t their last night. Unfortunately, that meant he would have to get out of bed.
It was going to be a busy day.
“I’m not letting you go,” Draco muttered, his voice hoarse with sleep. His fingers tightened
their grip on Harry’s hand.
“Then you’re going to have to get up with me,” Harry said, keeping his tone as light as
possible.
“Harry.”
“Draco.”
Silence.
“All right,” Draco sighed.
*****
They found an extremely subdued group of Slytherins downstairs. Harry had to wonder why
they were all sitting in the kitchen at ten o’clock in the morning. Didn’t anyone remember
that there was a perfectly serviceable drawing room upstairs?
Looking around at them, he realized that several of the girls had been crying. A couple of
them still were, Daphne included. All of them looked scared. The strangest thing about it was
that their fear wasn’t showing in their body language so much. It was their eyes. And they
were all staring at him.
Harry suppressed a shiver. This wasn’t going to help him get through the day.
“So, where’s Severus?” he asked.

The group’s eyes shifted to Blaise.
“He’s gone,” Blaise answered. “Snape was summoned this morning, came back a short while
later, they had a meeting and everyone left.”
“What the hell is Voldemort up to now?” Harry demanded sharply.
“I don’t know,” Blaise said. “We were simply told to be ready to go when you woke up.”
Harry glanced at Draco. “I thought this lot was staying here,” he said.
Draco was frowning. “They were,” he said.
“Why didn’t anyone wake us up?” Harry asked.
“Maybe because you have to kill off a Dark Lord later today and they thought you should be
rested and alert for that,” Blaise said sarcastically.
Harry tilted his head in acknowledgement, but he wasn’t happy. He sent a message to Severus
through the bracelet, receiving a response within a few seconds.
What’s going on?
Come to Hogwarts. Bring the Slytherins.
The wards?
Changed.
Apparate?
Floo will be connected to Headmistresses’ office in
The message cut off abruptly while Severus presumably asked someone how long it would be
before it could be connected. Harry and Draco lifted their heads in unison to look at the
fireplace, then each other. Harry’s bracelet warmed again.
30 minutes. Eat breakfast.
Harry stared at his bracelet blankly. “How’d he know that we haven’t?”
“Because he knows you’d try to figure out what’s going on first,” Draco said wryly.
“And I still don’t know,” Harry said, scowling.
He was still staring at his bracelet, where the words had faded back to Victoria’s name, and it
took him a few seconds to realize the room was silent. He looked to the others. The fear in
their eyes hadn’t lessened in the slightest.
This couldn’t go on. It was going to be a long enough day without everyone immobilized by
fear. He mentally shoved aside his own concerns. Whatever had happened, Severus obviously
had it under control or he would’ve woken Harry earlier.
“So, it looks like we’ll be going on a field trip this morning,” he said cheerfully, sitting down
at the table as Winky popped in with breakfast for him and Draco.
“What’s a field trip?” Draco asked, looking at Harry oddly as he sat down beside him.
Harry blinked at him. “We don’t go on field trips at Hogwarts, do we? I went on a geology
field trip once when I was in Muggle school. I reckon the closest we come to field trips
would be when Hagrid takes classes into the Forbidden Forest.”
“You’re not inspiring, Harry,” Draco said.
“You want inspiring?” Harry questioned. He nicked the toast Draco had just buttered, taking
a bite and chewing thoughtfully.
Draco glanced at Harry’s shoulder without comment and grabbed another slice of toast.
“Hmmm, I haven’t really been too many places,” Harry said. “Went on a trip to the zoo once
and talked to a snake. Dumped my cousin into the exhibit and set the snake free. I felt that
was rather inspiring.”
Draco gave him a flat stare. “Your cousin deserves to be strung up by his balls and fed to the
snakes,” he said.
Harry’s face twisted. “Yes, well, that’s rather inspiring, but I’m afraid it’s not your creative
best,” he said.
He suddenly sat up straight as a thought struck him and he gave Draco a fierce glare.
“What?” Draco asked warily.
“I best not see any ‘Potter Stinks’ badges today,” he warned.
Draco choked, his eyes widening. Harry smirked, passing him a goblet of water. He felt
rather satisfied that he’d finally sidetracked the Slytherins.
“You know, Draco,” Harry said conversationally. “Today should be a lot easier than some of
my past ordeals, since you’re not being a thorn in my side this time.”
“Easy?!” Daphne blurted out.
“Oh, yes,” Harry said with false enthusiasm. “For once I don’t have to worry about Draco
being a pain in the arse and fucking things up for me.”
“Potter, are you sure you’re all right?” Daphne asked hesitantly.
Harry sent her a mock glare as Draco sniggered. He stood, following Draco’s lead from a few
mornings previous.
“I am Harry Potter,” he declared haughtily. “Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One . . .” He looked
down at Draco. “What else am I?” he stage-whispered.
“The bloody prat who is scaring everyone because he won’t shut up,” Draco drawled, but his
eyes were sparkling with amusement, understanding what Harry was trying to do.
Harry sniffed at him. “You’re no help.”
“Saint Potter,” Blaise suggested innocently.
“Oh, that’s perfect. Very good,” Harry praised. He resumed his air of authority. “As I was
saying, I am Harry Potter, the bringer of hope and good cheer to all. I am simply performing
the duty that has been laid forth before me.”
He grinned widely. “So, how am I doing?”
He sat down again, quite pleased with the laughter that was echoing through the room. The
fear had receded from their eyes.
“You’ve been spending too much time around the matching pair,” Draco said dryly.
Harry snorted loudly. “You’ve spent more time with them than I have recently,” he said.
“Why do you think I warned you about no ‘Potter Stinks’ badges?”
“If I’d known you wanted to see a sample of my creative genius today, I would’ve taken the
time to whip something up for you,” Draco said, smirking.
“I think your time has been much better spent, thank you very much,” Harry said.
“Last night was time well spent,” Draco agreed.
“We don’t want to hear about what you two were up to,” Blaise interjected.
“Good thing we weren’t going to tell you, then, isn’t it?” Harry retorted.
He caught Daphne’s eye, who was looking nonplussed at the interaction.
“You’ve . . . you’ve done this before,” Daphne said. “Going up against the Dark Lord. It’s
different, but . . . in a way, this is nothing new.”
“Today is simply another day in the life of Harry Potter,” he said seriously. “You take the
good, the bad –” he darted a wry glance at Draco, “– the irritating, and you deal with it.”
*****
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Notes

Chapter Fifty
Harry tumbled out of the Floo, glaring as Tonks laughed at his clumsy entrance. She laughed
even harder as Draco stepped out neatly behind him and spelled the soot off of Harry and
himself without a thought.
Harry smiled reluctantly. “Glad I could amuse you,” he said.
She grinned unrepentantly.
He glanced around the office, nodding to Kingsley. “What’s going on?” he asked.
“Everyone is in the Great Hall,” Kingsley informed him. “Severus will explain the situation.”
Harry frowned at them both irritably, moving out of the way as the Slytherins started to
gather.
“Don’t give me that look,” Tonks said, wagging her finger at him, still grinning. “I have no
idea what Severus is up to. I’m just here to escort this lot.”
Harry’s frown deepened. “Why does Severus always have to be so difficult?”
“I believe he asks the same thing about you,” Kingsley said in amusement.
“Do you know what’s going on?” Harry asked.
Kingsley nodded. “I do. However, Severus wishes to speak with you first before we do
anything else.”
“In other words, it’s not something I’m going to like,” Harry muttered.
“Whatever it is, he knows you’ll just brush off anyone else,” Draco agreed.
Harry scowled as Kingsley smiled, not denying it.
“You’re gaining quite a reputation,” Tonks practically sing-songed, clearly enjoying herself.
“No one messes with Harry Potter.”
Harry stared at her, not sure how to feel about that.
“We’ll be down in a minute,” Draco said.
Confused, Harry watched as Kingsley nodded understandingly before he and Tonks ushered
the Slytherins out of the office and down to the Great Hall.
“They just left us alone in the Headmistresses’ office,” Harry said in bemusement.
“That’s because they trust you,” Draco said quietly. “Harry, it’s not a bad reputation that
you’ve gained.”
Harry bit at his lip, thinking about what Tonks had said. “Then why do I suddenly feel like a
bully?” he asked.
“Because you don’t allow anyone to get in the way of what you know is right,” Draco said.
“It doesn’t mean that you bully them, though. You don’t force anyone to do anything. Exactly
the opposite. You don’t fight to bring people down. You fight for justice and freedom and all
those other good things.”
“Draco is correct, Harry.”
Startled, Harry and Draco turned to look at the portrait that had spoken.
“You’ve become a true leader,” Dumbledore said kindly. “You may still be a bit unpolished –
perhaps in time you will learn patience – but you’ve treated people with kindness and respect,
earning their respect in return. You love with a fierceness and purity of spirit that is seeing
you, and so many others, through these difficult times. You’ve done admirably, Harry.”
“Thank you, sir,” Harry said softly.
*****
The gargoyle moved aside and Harry and Draco stepped out into the corridor. Harry blinked
in surprise to see Crabbe and Goyle.
“What are you still doing up here?” he asked.
“The Minister said we could wait for you,” Crabbe said.
“We’ll watch your back,” Goyle added.
“It’s not like we’re going to be attacked in the empty corridors,” Harry protested.
They simply shrugged.
Harry turned to Draco, unsure of what the hell to do.
Draco was smirking widely. “Just accept it, Harry,” he drawled. “It’ll be easier.”
Harry sighed in resignation and started walking, Draco beside him and Crabbe and Goyle one
step behind on either side of them.
“We’re not bloody royalty,” Harry muttered under his breath.
“You are,” Draco said matter-of-factly.
“I am not,” Harry protested.
“Close enough,” Draco said.
Harry continued to mutter about the bizarreness of it all until they reached the main staircase.
He stopped and exchanged glances with Draco. They could hear the noise coming from the
Great Hall. There was a lot more people than just the neutral Slytherins in that room.
Squaring their shoulders, Harry and Draco strode into the Great Hall, unprepared for what
they saw. The neutral Slytherins were sitting at the Ravenclaw table. The other Slytherins
were sulking at their house table. There was a group of mixed students at the Gryffindor
table. And Order members and Aurors at the Hufflepuff table.
At the Head Table sat the usual group from Grimmauld Place, plus McGonagall, Kingsley,
Tonks, and Moody.
“Draco!”
They suddenly had the attention of everyone in the room. No one stopped Pansy as she ran
across the room and attempted to launch herself at Draco. Crabbe and Goyle moved forward,
blocking her.
Harry stepped back and watched with raised eyebrows and crossed arms. Pansy blinked in
astonishment before attempting to slither between Crabbe and Goyle.
“Get out of the way, you great ugly brutes,” she snapped angrily.
Harry nodded at them and they stepped aside. He wanted to see what would happen.
“Oh, Draco, I’m so happy to see you,” she gushed. “I’ve been so worried, and now they’ve
locked us all in here. It’s horrible,” she finished in a wail.
“Back off, Pansy,” Draco snarled.
Harry shuddered. “Fucking hell,” he muttered, changing his mind. He’d seen enough. “I’m
glad it’s you that has to deal with her and not me. I’m going to go talk to Severus,” he said,
starting to walk away.
“Potter, get your arse back here,” Draco snapped.
“Such sweet talk,” Harry said sarcastically.
“Potter?!” Pansy exclaimed. “Why would you want him?” She frowned, suddenly realizing
something that she’d missed in her excitement of seeing Draco. “And why did you come in
with him, anyway?”
She rounded on Harry. “You’ve been keeping Draco prisoner!” she shrieked.
He rolled his eyes. “Draco’s not my prisoner,” he said. He glanced at Draco questioningly,
receiving a nod in answer.
“He’s my boyfriend,” he said with a smug smirk.
Pansy’s eyes grew round.
“It’s true,” Draco drawled. He drew close to Harry and dropped a light kiss on his mouth.
Neither really wanted to take their eyes off Pansy, not wanting to be hexed, even if they did
have Crabbe and Goyle as backup. They didn’t have to worry about it as Pansy fainted.
“Well, that’s one way to quiet her,” Draco said, staring down at her. They hadn’t attempted to
ease her fall, but she didn’t appear to be badly injured.
Madam Pomfrey came bustling towards them. “I expect better behaviour from the two of
you,” she said with disapproval.
“From me?” Draco asked in disbelief.
To her credit, she only hesitated for a second as she kneeled to tend to Pansy. “Yes,” she said
firmly. “You are a gentleman, are you not, Mr. Malfoy?”
Harry sniggered until she shot a stern glare up at him. “And you, Mr. Potter, are a Gryffindor.
Now, run along, all of you.”
They exchanged glances before stepping around Madam Pomfrey and Pansy, the latter still
out cold on the floor.
“Go sit with Blaise,” Draco ordered Crabbe and Goyle.

Harry stared incredulously when they looked to him for approval. He scrubbed both hands
down his face before waving one hand dismissively, sending them lumbering to the
Ravenclaw table.
“This is abso–fucking–lutely ridiculous, Draco,” Harry hissed. “You’ve trained them so well
that they can’t do anything without permission now. And they’re wanting that approval from
me.”
“I did talk to them, you know,” Draco said, clearly attempting to suppress his laughter. “They
just happen to think you’re nicer and you have more power.”
“Argh, I’m going to throttle you,” Harry threatened.
“Bad time to punish me, as you need me today,” Draco drawled pleasantly. “And, just so you
know, you’re causing a scene.”
Harry’s nostrils flared. He grasped the front of Draco’s robes and pulled him down, giving
him a quick, hard kiss before releasing him.
“I hate you,” he said, spinning on his heel and striding to the front of the room, Draco falling
into step beside him.
“You love me,” Draco corrected.
“That, too,” Harry agreed.
He glanced over at the Gryffindor table as he walked, and realized it was the members of the
DA that were sitting there. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and the twins appeared to have filled them
in about him and Draco because they didn’t appear to be quite as shocked as they could be at
the sight of Harry and Draco together.
Unlike the Slytherins at their house table. Anger, shock, and betrayal was written on every
one of their faces. And not all of it was directed at Draco and Harry. Fierce glares were also
being directed at the neutral Slytherins at the next table. Out of all of them, Nott looked to be
the most dangerous, glaring malevolently at Harry.
Everyone was watching closely when they reached the Head Table, rearranged so that there
were chairs on both sides.
“Why is the DA here?” Harry demanded before anyone else could speak.
“Sit down,” Severus ordered, ignoring Harry’s question.
“Can you at least tell me why we’re using the Head Table in the Great Hall as a bloody
conference table?” Harry asked impatiently.
“It is the best place to keep an eye on everyone, while still keeping them separated,”
McGonagall answered briskly.
“The Slytherins’ wands have been confiscated,” Kingsley added.

“That’s good to know,” Harry muttered, sitting down with his back to the room.
He recognized the Silencing Charm that Severus cast. No one would be able to hear them.
“I was summoned this morning,” Severus said without preamble. “The Dark Lord has
decided to introduce the Dementors this evening.”
Harry’s eyes widened, but he managed to hold all his questions in as Severus continued,
summarizing what they already knew as well as providing new information.
“His forces have been drastically reduced recently. He is expecting me to bring him my
Slytherin students to be Marked tonight. The students who are here,” he nodded to the
Slytherin table, “the majority of their parents will already be in attendance. Those who are
not dead or in Azkaban,” he clarified.
Harry glanced at them, finding himself feeling sorry for them. He knew most of them were
like Draco had been, eagerly wanting to be involved like their parents and not truly
understanding the reality. Catching Nott’s malicious glare, he felt his pity dissipating rapidly.
“The parents of the students who have been at Grimmauld Place will not be involved,”
Severus said. “The Dark Lord’s intention is to bring them over once he has ensnared their
children. We will keep them all safe – and separated – for the time being.”
“The Aurors will Polyjuice themselves and will be taken to the Dark Lord in place of the
students,” he continued. “Professors Flitwick and Sinistra as well as Hagrid and a few others
will be here to guard the students this evening.”
He paused, glancing briefly at Harry. “We have dealt with this to the best of our abilities. The
concern now is the Dementors. He has had me working on a potion that would counter the
effects. As I have only presented him with a potion that is partially effective, I mistakenly
believed that he would not summon them until a later time.”
“Do you have enough brewed for our side to use as well?” McGonagall asked.
“Yes, however, I only have a limited supply of the potion that more fully protects an
individual,” Severus said evenly.
Harry listened as Severus explained the two potions to the others. The key point being that
the more effective potion would be limited. They hadn’t expected Voldemort to call for the
Dementors and put them into battle until it was perfected. It was another sign that Voldemort
was growing desperate and maybe they should have anticipated this. It was too late now,
though, and they would have to simply deal with the new complication.
He looked back to the Gryffindor table, beginning to understand why they were there.
Everyone in the DA could perform the Patronus Charm. Biting his lip, he looked over at the
neutral Slytherins. He’d be willing to bet that they knew the charm as well, and that’s why
Severus had brought them to Hogwarts. He knew Severus had already retrieved hairs from
each of them for the Polyjuice and they’d been safe at Grimmauld Place. Why else would
they be at Hogwarts, unless they were to be asked to help fight?
“Severus,” he said, interrupting the discussion of precisely who would receive the potions.
“You can’t send them out there tonight.”
“We need them to drive off the Dementors so the others can focus on the Death Eaters,”
Severus said calmly but with an edge of warning.
“They’re not prepared for this,” Harry protested, getting to his feet.
“Harry, you have taught all of the members of your group, have you not?” Severus asked.
“Yes, but –”
“And I have taught the others. You need them there,” Severus said.
“No!” Harry shouted. “I don’t need them. I’ll have the potion.”
“Even with the potion, the Dementors still affect you,” Severus countered. “You will also not
be the only one at this battle,” he sneered.
Harry linked his hands at the back of his head. He didn’t want his friends at the battle. It was
enough that his family would be there. They were at least prepared for what they would be
facing. The members of the DA, most of them had never even seen Voldemort before. They
hadn’t had to witness death. The neutral Slytherins, he’d promised to protect them, and
sending them into battle was definitely not protecting them.
“It’s not right,” Harry muttered.
“None of this is right, Potter,” Severus said harshly.
Harry was not pleased with hearing his own words directed at him, rather than him directing
them at Draco this time.
“Harry, they won’t be fighting,” Draco said. “They’ll be able to drive away the Dementors so
everyone else can fight.”
“You did wish not to be treated as children,” Severus said snidely.
Harry’s head snapped up, glaring at him furiously. “Me, not them,” he said, gesturing to the
Gryffindor table. “I don’t want them to be subjected to the same things I’ve been.”
He gestured to the neutral Slytherins with his other hand. “And I promised to protect them,”
he said.
“You promised to protect them from being forced to accept the Dark Mark,” Draco pointed
out. “You didn’t promise to keep them away from the fight entirely.”
“Do you honestly believe that your DA group can not handle the task?” Severus asked.
Harry hesitated. “They can do it,” he admitted grudgingly. “But they shouldn’t have to.”
“No one wants them there, Harry,” Remus interjected mildly. “They are, however, needed. Of
course, they will be given the choice as to whether they assist or not.”
Harry stilled. “Choice,” he murmured.
“Would you care for a lemon drop?” Severus deadpanned.
Harry stared at him incredulously for a moment, along with the others, before he started
laughing. It was slightly hysterical laughter, but it was laughter.
“Fine,” he said, giving in and dropping back into his seat. Once past the initial shock of the
idea, he had to admit that it did make sense. They couldn’t afford to give up the adults who
would be fighting.
“Severus, surely there is another way,” McGonagall said, her lips pursed tightly as she cast a
glance at the students.
“Certainly,” Severus agreed. “We can pause in the middle of the fight to cast our Patronus,
hoping we don’t get hit by a curse,” he said sarcastically.
Harry exhaled heavily as McGonagall and Severus faced off. There probably were other
ways of handling the situation, but the problem was immediate. The DA had trained to some
extent. They hadn’t exactly trained for battle, but they had trained specifically in regards to
Dementors. It had always been one of Harry’s weak points and emphasis had definitely been
placed on defending against them.
He still wasn’t sure about the neutral Slytherins, though, despite the fact that Severus said
they knew the Patronus Charm. Then again, they’d half-expected to be forced to join
Voldemort and were probably even more prepared than the DA. Even if he’d appeared to be
on the other side, Severus would’ve made sure his students were protected as well as
possible.
“Potter,” Severus said sharply, pulling him from his thoughts.
“What does the DA know?” Harry asked.
“They do not yet know why they are here,” Severus said. “They have only been given the
basics as to my presence and that of the Malfoys.”
Harry snorted. “Could you tell me what the basics are?” he asked.
“That we are working for the Light side,” Severus said. “They do not need to know more
than that.”
Harry arched a brow dubiously. “And they believe that?” he asked.
“They trust your word, Harry,” Remus said mildly.
“But I haven’t even talked to them yet,” Harry said.

“Your friends, however, have spoken on your behalf,” Remus said with a smile. “I believe
Ron’s defence of Severus and Draco was fairly convincing.”
Both of Harry’s eyebrows shot up. Ron had defended them? He exchanged a glance with
Draco, who was mirroring his expression. They turned as one to look at the Gryffindor table.
The members of the DA were avidly watching the interaction at the Head Table. Harry met
Ron’s gaze. Ron looked worried but determined, an expression Harry had become quite
familiar with seeing on many people.
“Wish we could’ve heard that,” Draco murmured.
Harry nodded in agreement.
“It is amazing who you will find defending others in the effort to keep everyone alive,”
Lucius drawled sardonically.
Harry turned back, smirking. “Aww, have you been defending me, Lucius?” he asked.
“Ironic, considering just how many defenders you do have,” Lucius said dryly.
Harry shrugged. “Sad as it may be, I symbolize everyone’s hope,” he said. “It’s not like it’s
personal for most people.”
He was startled by the number of glares he received for what he’d deemed an innocent
comment.
“It’s personal, Potter,” Draco snarled.
Harry snorted. “Then maybe you shouldn’t call me Potter,” he said dryly.
At Draco’s look of frustration, Harry dropped a light kiss on his mouth. “Luckily for you,
Malfoy, I know it’s personal for some people,” he said.
*****
Harry paced in front of the blank section of wall as he had so many times in the past. He
opened the door after a slight hesitation, relieved to see their old DA defence classroom. He
went to stand at the front as everyone filed into the room, with Remus bringing up the rear.
Severus and Lucius were off in another room with the neutral Slytherins, speaking to them
separately. If they chose to assist that evening, Severus would be sending them to Harry to
practice. McGonagall, Kingsley and the others were filling in the rest of the Order.
Harry and Draco had not known they would be spending the rest of the day at Hogwarts, so
they’d left Harry’s rucksack and the snakes at Grimmauld Place. Draco had taken Blaise and
gone back to retrieve them. Draco had stated dryly that it would give Harry a chance to deal
with their questions about him.
Harry was a little disappointed that he wouldn’t have an opportunity to see Victoria before
the battle, but he was also relieved that she was safely at home, out of harm’s way.
Taking in a slow breath to fortify himself, he addressed the chattering members of the DA.
“You might as well grab a cushion and sit down,” he said. “This is going to take awhile.”
He was surprised to see every single member there, with the exception of Marietta. Twenty-
seven people. Even Cho had come. Harry had learned that, with the help of McGonagall,
Hermione had had a very busy morning contacting everyone and bringing them to Hogwarts.
He understood that there were a lot of upset families, but only Ginny, Luna and the Creevey
brothers weren’t of age. They’d all chosen to come. Seamus had only attended one DA
meeting at the end of fifth year, but even he was there, sitting with Dean and Neville.
“Are you really seeing Malfoy?” Zacharias blurted out the question.
“Yes,” Harry answered, firmly and without a hint of apology.
“He’s a Death Eater, though!” Lavender exclaimed.
“Draco makes a lousy Death Eater,” Harry said dismissively.
“He tried to kill me,” Katie spoke up quietly. Her voice wasn’t accusing so much as
questioning. “He was the one, wasn’t he?”
Harry hesitated. Draco had almost killed Katie, despite the fact that it hadn’t been his
intention. Somehow, this felt a lot different than the situation with Ron. Upon reflection, it
sounded ridiculous even in his head, but he’d mentally balanced the action against Ron with
the fact that he’d almost killed Draco. Katie, though, had nothing to do with any of this and
didn’t fit into that equation.
“Katie, I . . .,” he paused, taking in a deep breath. She deserved the truth and Draco had
essentially told Harry that he expected him to tell them. “Yes, it was Draco.”
Katie wasn’t the only one to inhale sharply at the direct admission. “Why?” she whispered.
“It was an accident,” Harry said. “He wasn’t trying to kill you. He . . . well, he was trying to
get to Dumbledore,” he admitted. It sounded lame even to his own ears, but he didn’t want to
try to explain it all. Even if he wanted to, he simply didn’t have time.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Katie said, her voice stronger but laced with confusion.
“I’ve never claimed Draco’s always made sense or made smart decisions,” he said dryly.
“Has he made any smart decisions?” Justin muttered.
“Yes, he chose Harry,” Colin piped up.
Many people in the room sniggered at that pronouncement. Harry flashed a grin before
focusing on Katie again. She still looked horribly confused.
“I . . . I don’t know what to tell you,” Harry said miserably.
Ron snorted loudly, drawing everyone’s attention. “Bloody hell, I hate doing this,” he
muttered in disgust. He sucked in a deep breath.
“Malfoy’s a prat. He got into some serious trouble trying to save himself and his family
because You Know Who is a sadistic bastard. Katie and I accidentally got in the way.
Dumbledore and Harry intervened. Malfoy redeemed himself this summer. He and Harry are
now an item and Merlin forbid you get in between them. End of story.”
He paused, breathing in. “Oh, and I suggest you get over it quickly because Harry and
Malfoy are planning to save all our arses tonight. Best not to get on their bad sides.”
Harry stared at him incredulously. He glanced at Hermione questioningly, but she was busy
gaping at Ron as well. Harry could only think Draco was going to be sorry he’d missed this.
“Now, can we move on to why we’re all here?” Ron asked impatiently.
Harry opened his mouth. Closed it again. He looked at Katie, who seemed to have the same
problem.
Everyone turned to look at the newcomers as the door opened. Harry’s eyes widened as
Draco and Blaise came into the room.
“Can I presume that, you being who you are, you’ve already talked to Bell and she knows the
truth?” Draco asked.
Harry nodded dumbly. He watched, just as shocked as everyone else as Draco searched out
Katie and presented her with a gorgeous bouquet of red and yellow roses.
“My apologies,” Draco said formally.
“It was you,” she breathed in realization. What she’d just figured out, Harry had no idea, but
most of the girls had wide eyes, recognition expressed on their faces.
Draco flushed, but he nodded once in acknowledgement.
Blaise leaned close to whisper to Harry. “Draco sent her the same bouquets anonymously
while she was at St. Mungo’s,” he explained. “I suspect he paid all of the medical costs, as
well.”
Harry smiled softly. There was a lot more to Draco Malfoy than any of the Gryffindors had
ever guessed. He absently accepted his rucksack from Blaise, watching the quiet conversation
between Katie and Draco. Katie was a kind-hearted Gryffindor. He hoped that eventually
she’d be able to forgive Draco for what he’d put her through, but he was fairly certain that
she would at least tolerate Draco’s presence so they could get through the final battle.
“How come I didn’t get flowers?” Ron asked petulantly. “Hell, I didn’t get an actual apology,
either.”
Draco turned to Katie, his hand touching the stem of one of the red roses. “May I?” he asked.
Glancing at Ron and smiling, despite herself, Katie nodded her permission to Draco.
Draco plucked the rose out of the bouquet and sauntered over to Ron, all eyes on him. He
presented the rose to Ron with a slight bow. “My apologies, Weasley,” he said. The situation
with the flower was meant to be light-hearted – and mocking, this was Draco and Ron – but
Draco’s voice conveyed the seriousness of his apology.
Ron’s face turned a brilliant red. “Give the bloody flower back to Katie,” he said.
“You’re sure?” Draco asked innocently.
“Bloody wanker,” Ron muttered.
“Very well, then,” Draco said. He turned and approached Harry. He trimmed the rose’s stem
and murmured a charm that somehow stuck it to Harry’s robes before giving Harry a quick
kiss.
Harry heard the dreamy sighs and rolled his eyes. Evil Death Eater or not, Draco had
probably just won over every girl in the room. Bloody Slytherin.
“Satisfied with yourself?” Harry asked dryly.
“Yes,” Draco said simply.
“Now can we move on to why we’re all here?” Ron repeated impatiently.
Harry bit at his lip, still not liking this. He didn’t want to ask them to get involved.
The tension in the room was stifling. Many were still casting angry and nervous glances at
Draco, but everyone’s main focus was on Harry. They were all aware that something was up
and they’d been called to Hogwarts for a reason. Finding out that reason overrode their
animosity towards Draco. Although, Remus’ presence in the room surely helped. Harry
glanced at him.
“You need to speak with them now, Harry,” Remus said. “Time is running short.”
Harry nodded reluctantly before facing the group again. “You’re here because all of you
know the Patronus Charm and because the hope is that you will be willing to drive off the
Dementors who will be at the battle tonight,” he said.
Chatter broke out with that pronouncement. Most of them hadn’t known there was to even be
a battle, although they’d likely guessed, considering the strange circumstances. It took a
couple minutes, but everyone eventually settled down to listen to him explain the plan for the
evening.
He glossed over much of his involvement, and the plans meant for his friends, focusing on
what the majority of the DA members would have to do. He explained how they would get
there, and what their responsibility would be. In particular, he described the Vanishing
Cabinets that would be playing a huge role.
“It’s going to be chaos and it won’t be pretty,” he said grimly, thinking about the battle at the
Ministry.
Everyone gazed at him solemnly, all lingering animosity towards Draco put aside and
forgotten for the time being. Compared to Voldemort, Death Eaters and Dementors, Draco
simply wasn’t much of a threat.
“At the signal, the Order members will come onto the scene to fight the Death Eaters. You
will follow them through the Cabinet, but you’ll stay to the outskirts of the battle, casting the
Patronus Charm to protect everyone from the Dementors.”
“What about us?” Ginny asked, indicating herself and Blaise, as well as the twins.
“You and Blaise will still be helping Fred and George,” Harry said. “You’re not to draw
attention to yourselves by casting your Patronuses unless it’s absolutely necessary. You’re to
watch their backs as well as your own. Nothing more.”
Ginny was frowning, but she nodded.
“And us?” Hermione questioned, gesturing to Ron and herself. “Are we still your backup?
Will you be able to fight with the Dementors present?” After their experiences during third
year, she knew better than anyone just how badly Harry was affected by the Dementors.
“You’re still the only two who understand exactly what I’m doing with Nagini,” Harry said
with a shrug. “Yes, Dementors or not, I still need you as my backup. If Draco and I fail,
you’ll have to –”
“We’re not going to fail,” Draco interrupted, snarling the words.
Harry surprised everyone when he smiled. “Well, no, we’re not going to fail,” he agreed.
“But having Ron and Hermione covering our backs isn’t a bad thing.”
“But what about the Dementors?” Ron asked. “Me and Hermione are supposed to just stand
there and watch? I need to do something.”
“You will be doing something, Ron,” Harry said. “There’s going to be so much happening
and I’m not going to be able to focus on all of it. I need you keeping watch in case things go
wrong. And we’re dealing with the Dementors.”
He swept his gaze over the group. “If you choose to be there, you’ll be given a potion that
will help you.”
“What kind of potion?” Susan asked.
“One that will help keep you from feeling the Dementor’s effects so you can keep a clear
head,” Harry answered.
“Why us?” Ernie asked.
“Because I’ve trained you,” Harry said flatly. “I’ve certainly never prepared you for anything
like this, but you’ve been trained to fight off Dementors.”
“And everyone already involved is needed to fight the Death Eaters,” Hermione said in
understanding.
“Exactly,” Harry said grimly. “Look, I don’t want any of you there –”
“Is that why you were arguing with Snape?” Ron interrupted.
“Yes,” Harry admitted. “He seems to think I’ve trained you well enough for this, but –”
“Snape thinks we can do this?!” Seamus exclaimed.
“Don’t take that to mean that he likes you,” Draco warned, smirking.
“It means he has faith in Harry,” Ginny said.
“And Harry is the one who has faith in us,” Dean added.
“Do you have faith in us, Harry?” Angelina asked.
“Because that’s not what it sounds like,” Alicia said.
“I do,” Harry said. “I know you can do this. I just . . . this is going to be extremely
dangerous.”
“It’s going to be a lot more dangerous for you,” Neville spoke up quietly.
“Well, yeah, but –”
“I’m going,” Neville said.
“Me, too,” Luna said dreamily.
They started a chorus of agreement. Determination was expressed on their faces and in their
voices.
Harry sighed in defeat.
Draco shook his head in exasperation. “Harry, you’re not supposed to be disappointed when
you get the support you need,” he drawled.
“I’m now leading every single one of my family and friends into battle where they could be
killed,” Harry said bitterly. “Excuse me for not being happy about it.”
Draco pushed him back. Startled, Harry found himself pinned up against a wall.
“You will not talk, or even think, that way,” Draco snarled. “You’ve been Saint Potter today,
spreading your little bits of hope and, as disgusting as it may be, you’re going to continue to
do so because everyone needs you.”
Harry tilted his head back against the wall. He watched Remus step forward and pull
everyone’s attention, in theory, away from the two of them, directing everyone to practice
their Patronus Charm.
“This is so bloody difficult,” he muttered.
“Harry, you . . . fuck it,” Draco said in frustration before crushing Harry’s lips under his own.
Harry slowly relaxed under the assault. He tugged to free his hands and twined them in
Draco’s hair. Draco’s response was to move his hands to Harry’s hips and press him tighter
against the wall.
“Harry! Draco!”
“What?!” they growled, breaking apart to glare at Remus.
Remus sighed. “Could the two of you please remember that you have an audience?” he
requested. “An audience that is not accustomed to your relationship.”
They shifted so they could both see out into the room.
“I’m becoming rather familiar with these gobsmacked expressions,” Draco said pleasantly.
Harry sniggered, pushing Draco away from him. “Come on, you prat, we have work to do.”
Draco arched a brow, but he was smirking. “Feel better?” he asked.
Harry stuck his tongue out before turning his back on him.
“Harry’s gone mental,” Seamus breathed.
“No, he’s in love,” Ron said in disgust.
“Same thing, isn’t it?” Fred asked cheerfully.
“Oi! You can all shut up about me and work on your Patronuses,” Harry said, exasperated.
Hermione pulled him aside, shaking her head in regards to Harry’s antics. “I can’t believe
you’re snogging in front of everyone,” she said.
“What? It’s not like everyone hasn’t seen couples snogging before,” Harry pointed out,
smiling innocently. “It’s a regular occurrence in everyone’s common rooms.”
Hermione grimaced and Harry was certain she was remembering Ron and Lavender. The
majority of the Gryffindors had ignored them, as snogging couples was a common
occurrence. Hermione, though, had been upset and jealous every time she’d seen them.
“Yes, but none of the other couples are you and Malfoy. When you two snog, or have any
kind of interaction together, people pay attention,” she said. “I reckon it’s one way to help
keep everyone distracted,” she added dryly.
“I’ll take whatever works at the moment,” he said, glancing around the room. Everyone was
working on the Patronus Charm, but they were also gossiping about Harry and Draco. Better
that, than letting fear of the upcoming battle overwhelm them.
“I hadn’t actually planned this, though,” he said. “Draco was just . . .,” he trailed off, not
really wanting to discuss his insecurities and concerns.
“Are you keeping Malfoy together, or is he keeping you together?” Hermione asked
curiously, clearly understanding that it had been far more than a snog for pleasure’s sake.
Harry glanced over at Draco, who was now working with Fred and George, further shocking
the majority of the people in the room. He was smart to stick with them if he wasn’t around
Harry, as several people were watching him with extreme suspicion. Everyone knew better,
though, than to tangle with the twins.
“Both,” Harry admitted.
“You’re taking turns keeping each other calm and focused,” Hermione said, tilting her head
as she studied him. “You balance each other out somehow.”
He nodded in agreement, still watching Draco.
“Harry,” she said his name hesitantly.
“What?” he asked suspiciously, giving her his full attention.
“I’m just scared,” Hermione admitted. “I mean, I know you’re worried about us, but we
really don’t have to do much. Most of us, all we have to do is cast our Patronus. That’s it.
You, though . . . Harry, I’m terrified.”
“Good thing you’re bringing this up after Draco snogged me,” he muttered.
“It did seem the better time,” Hermione agreed, giving him a small smile. “You’re calmer, not
as frustrated.”
Considering that she was talking about being scared, she was hiding it well. Harry wondered
if it was one of their Gryffindor traits.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” she went on, “but I understand why you’re taking Malfoy
with you tonight.”
“Do you?” Harry asked in surprise. “I thought . . . well, I thought you and Ron might be
angry about it.”
Severus had been the one to explain the actual plans for the battle the night they’d told the
Weasleys about everything, after sending Harry and Draco home due to the fighting. Harry
hadn’t had to face them when they found out that Draco would be the one standing next to
him when it came time to deal with Voldemort. He hadn’t been stupid enough to bring it up
and no one else had mentioned it directly until now.
“We were a bit, at first,” Hermione admitted. “We’ve been through so many things with you
and, well, ridiculous as it is, we wanted to be there when you face Voldemort.”
“You will be there,” Harry said.
“But Malfoy will be with you,” Hermione said. “And I’m all right with that,” she added
quickly. “Because if he can centre you and get you through this –”
She cut herself off and flung her arms around Harry, hugging him fiercely.
“What are you doing with my girlfriend, Harry?” Ron asked, throwing an arm around Harry’s
shoulders.
Harry glanced up at him, not answering at first. Merlin, he didn’t want anything to happen to
his friends. He swallowed heavily, working to come up with something that would break the
tension.
“I’m giving her pointers on how to deal with your boyfriend when he decides to give flowers
to someone else,” he said. “She’s consoling me.”
Ron stared blankly for a moment before he let out a loud guffaw. Hermione started giggling
in his arms. She pulled back, fingering the soft petals of the rose on his robes.
“He’s a romantic gentleman underneath all those sneers and glares, isn’t he?” she said.
Harry nodded, smiling.
“He’s an aristocratic arse, is what he is,” Ron muttered.
“He’s that, too,” Harry agreed, his smile turning into a wide grin.
*****
They had been working on their Patronus Charms for at least thirty minutes and it took Harry
a few seconds to realize why everyone was suddenly stopping. He turned to see Severus and
Lucius entering with the neutral Slytherins. With a sweep of his arms, Severus gestured for
all of the students to stand at the edges of the room and they moved quickly to obey.
“What are you doing?” Harry asked, frowning at him in confusion.
“Training,” Severus said curtly. “The rest of you will observe.”
He closed his eyes briefly in concentration and the room provided shields to protect the other
students. Lucius was casting a spell before they were even fully in place.
Interceptum.
Harry spun on his heel sharply. He blocked Lucius’ curse, but he’d felt Remus’ magic as he
cast a Levicorpus.
“Stup –”
He blocked the curse from Severus and ducked the Petrificus from Remus. He managed to
block Lucius’ next spell, but had to roll to avoid the one from Severus. They’d started in fast
with the hexes and continued to up the speed. Moving constantly around him. Severus caught
him with a Stinging Hex, but he managed to hold on to his wand when Remus swiftly cast
Expelliarmus. He paid for it, though, as he went flying backwards with Lucius’ next curse.
They didn’t ease up, but he closed his eyes and caught the feel of their magic again, casting
Interceptum in rapid succession. He blocked their next curses, managing to scramble to his
feet again in the process.
He didn’t have time to attack. He could only defend. The curses continued, coming at him
faster.
“Stupefy!”
Harry felt Draco’s magic and opened his eyes in time to see Lucius turn to block his son.
Severus was aiming for Draco and Harry swiftly blocked it, along with the curse that came a
second later from Remus. The two of them circled back to back in the middle of the room
with Harry defending and Draco directing offensive spells. They were gaining ground, but
they were still outnumbered.
“Incarcerous!”
Harry wasn’t positive, but he was fairly certain the dual shout came from Ginny and Blaise.
Suddenly, though, Remus and Lucius were bound, caught unaware by the spells. Harry and
Draco only had Severus left to face.
It became a duel of two against one, and Severus was not holding back any longer. Harry and
Draco stood side by side, one defending, one attacking. Unfortunately, Severus was still far
more experienced than either of them.
“Shield the next one, then attack,” Harry muttered quickly.
Harry leapt to the side, away from Draco, as soon as he felt the magic of the next curse. He
began shouting offensive spells, both he and Draco suddenly attacking. The tables turned and
Severus was now on the defensive. Within a minute they had pushed forward and Severus
was stupefied.
Draco and Harry dropped to their knees, breathing heavily and sweat pouring off of them.
Remus and Lucius had already been released at some point – Harry had missed that – and
Remus calmly revived Severus, who managed to look disgustingly collected, all things
considered.
The room was quiet. On one side of the room stood the Slytherins, on the opposite side stood
the DA. In the middle, along the far wall, stood Harry’s friends. Which made Harry suddenly
realize that he considered Blaise one of his friends now, as he was standing with them.
Everyone was staring at Harry, Draco and Severus, stunned by what they’d just witnessed.
Harry frowned, trying to figure out what Severus’ purpose was for this little demonstration.
Severus never did anything without a reason.
“We’re not even going to be duelling tonight,” he said aloud, trying to puzzle Severus’
motives.
“You can not know that for certain,” Severus said sharply. “It is best to be prepared for
whatever might occur.”
His narrowed gaze travelled around the room, causing all of the students to stand straighter as
his eyes swept past them.
“I should hope that all of you have been reassured that Mr. Potter is indeed prepared for this
encounter,” he said.
Harry blinked in surprise as everyone nodded. So, Severus had set this up to prove Harry
Potter was worthy of their trust. Looking at the students with new perspective, he had to
admit that he did see hints of relief in their features.
“It will not be a training exercise tonight,” Severus said. “Your job is to cast your Patronuses
and drive back the Dementors. However, there is absolutely no guarantee that you will not
have to fight otherwise. You are not to foolishly go out into the centre of the battle, but it is
certainly feasible that some of them will try to run. With the Anti-Apparition spells that will
be placed over the area, they will come towards you. They will not hesitate to curse you in
their bid for freedom.”
“They will be formidable opponents but, as it has just been proven, it is quite possible for you
to take them down . . . if you work together,” he emphasized. “Mr. Potter is not without his
own considerable skills; however, he was not able to work alone.”
He nodded sharply to Ginny and Blaise. “Sneak attacks are to your advantage. If you see
someone needing assistance, do not wait until they are already weakened before stepping in.”
He cast a warning glance at Draco. Draco’s eyes widened marginally before he nodded his
understanding. The training had technically been intended for Harry, and it had been several
minutes before Draco – or Ginny and Blaise – had stepped in to assist.
His breathing slowly evening out, Harry observed the students held spellbound by Severus’
words. They’d been wide-eyed at the end of the duel, but now their expressions were grim –
grim, but determined as well. They may or may not fully understand exactly what they were
walking into, but they were fully aware of the seriousness of the situation and they were
prepared to do their part.
Harry fell backwards, stretching out on the floor. Beside him, Draco mimicked his actions.
That had been the most intense training session they’d ever had. They lay in the centre of the
floor as they continued to listen to Severus addressing the students.
“I want trios rather than pairings,” Severus said. “As you’ve witnessed, it will be more
effective if one of you is defending while the other is attacking. The third will be responsible
for defending against the Dementors. I am aware of your skills,” he sneered. “Shortly, Lupin
and I will be helping you to select groupings based on your abilities.”
He stepped closer to Harry and Draco, towering over them.
“You need to choose one other to join Weasley and Granger,” he said.
“Neville,” Harry answered promptly.
Draco choked beside him and Severus sneered in disgust.
“Longbottom!” Draco exclaimed, sitting up to stare down at Harry incredulously.
Harry moved swiftly, shoving Draco back down and rolling until he was straddling Draco’s
hips and had him pinned to the floor. Draco didn’t bother struggling, just continued to stare at
Harry with an expression that clearly stated he thought Harry had finally lost his mind.
“Yes, Draco,” Harry said, eyes narrowed. “The same Longbottom who has been bravely
putting up with yours and Severus’ shite all these years. The same Longbottom who has spent
countless hours in training with me. The same Longbottom who didn’t back down when
faced with an impossible situation.”
He glanced up. “Isn’t that right, Lucius?” he sneered.
Lucius’ nostrils flared at the reminder. “The boy did appear to be as pigheaded and as foolish
as you,” he agreed coolly, getting his own jibe in against Harry.
Harry glared back down at Draco. Recognition was shining in Draco’s eyes now. He’d
always associated the events at the Ministry in fifth year with Harry, like everyone else, and
had obviously forgotten that Neville had been there as well. Harry hadn’t brought it up,
touchy subject as it was, but he suddenly wondered if Lucius had explained those events in
detail to Draco.
“It’s Neville’s choice, but he’s earned the right to be there tonight,” he said. “You know what
else? You should hope Neville chooses to be a part of our backup, because he’ll watch your
back as well as mine.”
“Why would Longbottom protect me?” Draco demanded.
“Because you are standing with Harry,” Neville answered, stepping forward from the wary
crowd. He stood tall, but his eyes darted nervously between Draco, Severus, and Lucius.
“Your Patronus,” Severus commanded.

Neville took a deep breath, closed his eyes briefly in concentration, then cast his Patronus as
ordered. A large, silver dog erupted from the end of his wand.
“A Newfoundland,” Severus murmured. “Loyal and protective, courageous but quiet,

powerful yet gentle.”
Harry raised his brows, surprised that Severus recognized the traits of Neville’s Patronus. He
wouldn’t have thought Severus knew much about dogs. He certainly wasn’t fond of the
animals.
Neville stood proudly, his eyes no longer darting about wildly. He met Severus’ appraising
stare steadily.
Severus glanced back down at Harry. “Boy Who Lived,” he stated.
Harry nodded, knowing Severus was making the connection to the prophecy. It could just as
easily have been Neville in Harry’s current position, having to face Voldemort.
“He doesn’t have to fight, but he is choosing to anyway,” he said.
“You have no choice,” Severus said harshly.
Harry shot to his feet. “Yes, I do,” he said fiercely. “I could run and hide, but I’m choosing to
fight. I’m fighting to live.”
“Neither can live while the other survives,” Severus murmured, the words almost inaudible.
Harry jerked his head in a nod. He could see the regret in Severus’ eyes and knew Severus
cared. He was fairly certain Severus was regretting that it was not Neville who was the Boy
Who Lived instead of Harry. Severus cared about him, Harry Potter. Severus was afraid and
that’s why he was so angry.
Harry stepped forward abruptly and hugged Severus tightly. “I’m not going to die,” he said,
his voice muffled by Severus’ robes.
Severus hugged him just as tightly, but only for a second before shoving him away. “You will
live,” he snarled.
“Yes, sir,” Harry said with determination and confidence.
“Very well, then,” Severus said. “Longbottom, you will join Weasley and Granger.”
Smiling, Harry reached over and touched two fingers under Neville’s chin, gently urging him
to close his mouth. “I’ll explain where you’ll need to be in a few minutes. Why don’t you go
stand with Ron and Hermione,” he suggested.
Neville nodded mechanically, slowly backing away from them.
“I almost feel sorry for him,” Draco said conversationally. “For once I actually understood
the conversation you two just had, but I know he didn’t understand a word of it.”
Harry shrugged, smiling ruefully, but he wasn’t able to hold back the wince from the twinge
in his shoulder. Obviously the latest dose of potion was wearing off and he’d aggravated his
shoulder again with the duelling. Draco stood, automatically reaching into his pocket,
retrieving another vial.
“You should take something stronger,” Remus spoke up in concern.
“No, this’ll do,” Harry said, plucking the vial from Draco’s fingers. He refused to start taking
the addictive potions, even for the evening’s battle. It would be admitting defeat before he
started and he couldn’t do it. He’d have time to heal properly after the battle and wouldn’t
need the potions so often.
Severus was studying him calculatingly and gave him a nod of acknowledgement and
understanding.
Draco looked between the two of them in confusion before throwing his hands up. “And once
again I don’t have a clue as to what just happened,” he said. “How am I supposed to
understand if you don’t even say anything?”
“I just refuse to be conquered by my own body,” Harry said. That wasn’t the entire reason,
but it was enough of an explanation to bring recognition to Draco’s eyes. Draco’s eyes then
sparked with mischievousness.
“So, does that mean I’m allowed to conquer your body?” he asked slyly.
“Enough,” Severus said sharply.
Harry grinned at Draco, grateful for the ease of tension even if Severus didn’t appreciate it.
Draco slid an arm around his waist as they watched Severus and Remus start forming the
students into groups.
Everyone was certainly feeling a great deal of shock, easing the interactions, and Harry found
himself hoping that it never wore off. It almost made him wish he wasn’t planning to kill
Voldemort, because he knew that was the reason everyone was being so cooperative.
Working together peacefully was what he needed, what they all needed, but he couldn’t help
wondering what everything would be like later. Assuming they all survived.
“You know, Dumbledore would be real proud of all of us,” Harry said. “Working together.
Unity of the houses.”
Draco cast a sidelong glance at him. “I think he would,” he agreed.
*****
Harry irreverently sat on the Head Table, Draco beside him. He was swinging his legs back
and forth, but Draco sat rigidly.
“Harry, stop it,” Draco hissed.

“Draco, we’re getting away with sitting on the Head Table,” Harry said. “I’m going to enjoy
it.”
Draco’s hand clamped onto Harry’s thigh, effectively stilling the movement.
“All right, so I’m not going to enjoy it,” Harry said.
He had thought sitting on the Head Table was more appropriate than snogging Draco
senseless in front of all these people but he was about ready to change his mind. They’d
snuck away for some private time earlier, but now they couldn’t leave.
It was almost time.
Everyone was waiting tensely for Voldemort to summon his Death Eaters. Lucius and
Severus stood nearby, ready to leave at a moment’s notice. Along with Harry, they would be
the only ones to leave when the Dark Mark burned. Everyone else would be going through
the Vanishing Cabinet. One of the cabinets was in Harry’s pocket; the other was already
enlarged to its normal size and standing prominently in front of the Head Table.
Speeches, warnings, instructions, potions. They’d all been given.
Harry knew a lot of people surely thought he was mental, but after the day he’d just had, he
felt like he finally understood why Dumbledore always acted like he was barmy. There was
something about it that distracted people, at least a little, from the stress they were feeling.
He’d had his own moments throughout the day where he’d allowed the stress to get to him,
but for the most part he’d kept up appearances, taking his lessons from Dumbledore.
Right now, he was feeling fairly calm – the calm before the storm. Draco wasn’t, though.
Draco was ready to panic. Harry stared at Draco’s hand, still gripping his thigh, and he
remembered that song he’d heard. He held out his own hand, palm up, offering it to Draco.
“‘Take my hand and we’ll make it, I swear’,” he quoted softly.
Draco’s eyes widened in recognition for a brief second before his scowl returned. He released
Harry’s thigh, though, and laced their fingers together.
“Livin’ on a fucking prayer,” he muttered darkly.
Harry didn’t know why he remembered the lyrics to that song, but he did. Some of them,
anyway. He quoted a couple more of the lines that had struck home for him.
“‘We've got to hold on, ready or not. You live for the fight when it's all that you've got.’”
Draco’s eyes closed. “Fuck, I’m not ready,” he said.
Harry rested his head on Draco’s shoulder, closing his eyes as Draco rested his own head on
top of Harry’s.
“I’m scared, too,” Harry whispered.

They sat in silence for a minute.
“We’ll make it?” Draco asked, squeezing Harry’s hand.
“I swear,” Harry answered, squeezing back.
“You’re a bloody Gryffindor, so I’m holding you to your word,” Draco warned.
Harry smiled. “So, now you’re recognizing me as a Gryffindor again?” he asked, wishing he
could see Draco’s expression, but not wanting to move.
“Yes,” Draco said promptly. “A foolish, idiotic Gryffindor.”
“What does this make you, since you’re meeting me there?” Harry asked curiously.
“A foolish, idiotic Slytherin,” Draco muttered in disgust.
*****
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Notes

Chapter Fifty-One
Wrapped securely in his Invisibility Cloak, Harry clutched Severus’ arm tightly and they
were gone. He couldn’t completely suppress the shudder that passed through his body as they
landed, the taste of Pain-Relieving Potion still in his mouth. The sharp pain in his forehead let
him know Voldemort was close. Severe cold chilled him, letting him know the Dementors
were nearby, although he couldn’t see them. He turned toward the source of the pain and saw
many of the Death Eaters already taking their places before Voldemort.
Severus had immediately slipped away from Harry to speak with Voldemort, avoiding
suspicion until it was time. Voldemort would be giving him a Portkey that would allow him
to go back to Hogwarts and return with a force of Aurors Polyjuiced to look like the
Slytherins that he was expected to bring for initiation.
Lucius was on the ground and transformed under the cloak before Harry had even got his
bearings.
“There,” Lucius said urgently, pointing. “In that group of trees.”
“Been here before?” Harry muttered, already moving in the direction he’d indicated.
“Yes,” Lucius said. “We’re on Malfoy property.”

Harry absolutely refused to dwell on that, even if he’d had the time to do so. They’d had no
idea where Voldemort would choose to hold his initiation ceremony beforehand, and had
actually been hoping that Lucius would be familiar with the location.
They needed to work fast, but Harry was struggling hard to suppress his shudders. He was
cursing the fact that Voldemort had decided to introduce the Dementors as part of his forces
at this initiation. After his losses the week before, it made sense for him to finally make use
of them, but it was still pissing Harry off.
It reinforced the fact that Harry needed to face him now, before the situation got any worse.
Voldemort was getting bolder, upping the ante with each confrontation and bringing the
Dementors into play simply emphasized the fact that he was gaining strength, despite his
losses.
They reached the copse of trees Lucius had indicated. They would need to work quietly, but
they were distant enough and out of sight. Harry swiftly resized the Vanishing Cabinet. Draco
stepped through almost immediately, Narcissa right behind him.
Harry saw Draco mouth the word home in surprise. The Malfoys clearly knew their property,
because Harry had seen no sign of the Manor itself. Harry shook his head, trying to clear it. It
wasn’t really important where they were located, as long as everyone could get there.
Fred and Ginny came through the Vanishing Cabinet, followed by Blaise and George. With
bare whispers and hand gestures, Lucius was indicating where they should position
themselves on either side of Voldemort’s gathering. They would be paired under Moody’s
Invisibility Cloaks, not charmed as well as Harry’s, but Fred and George had been working
diligently and they at least masked scent and sound.
The two duos were armed with product, prepared to unleash havoc the Death Eaters would be
unable to counter. Ginny and Blaise would assist but more than anything else they would be
extra eyes for Fred and George. Harry had learned how important that could be.
Ron, Hermione and Neville came through, looking determined. Hermione cast
Disillusionment Charms as Ron swished Harry’s other cloak around the three of them. Harry
felt odd that it was Neville instead of himself squishing with the other two under the folds of
the cloak. They wouldn’t have to stay hidden for long. They would provide backup for Harry
and the Malfoys, and mainly needed the cloak to get into position behind Voldemort. Their
strong Patronuses would be providing much needed protection.
Harry desperately wished they could cast their Patronuses now. He didn’t care how good
Severus’ potion was; he was still feeling the cold seeping into his bones and depressing
thoughts that were far from encouraging. He shifted from foot to foot, anxious to get moving.
“Calm down,” Draco murmured against Harry’s mouth, giving him a quick kiss. “You’re
making me more nervous.”
Harry’s eyes raked over Draco, thinking that he was hiding his nervousness well. He was
obviously tense, but the impassive mask Draco often used to face the world was firmly in
place. The bloody git was over-dressed for battle, but if nice clothes helped him feel more
confident, then Harry wasn’t going to say anything.
Their roles had reversed again, as Harry was now the one slowly losing his confidence, the
presence of the Dementors sucking away his courage. Perhaps he should’ve taken more care
with his wardrobe. He rolled his eyes in response to his own thoughts. Merlin, he needed to
get moving before he lost his bloody mind.
“Focus, Harry,” he told himself sternly, the voice in his head sounding like Severus.
He felt exposed, half expecting to be discovered at any moment. They were a fair distance
from Voldemort and his followers, but he could hear the cracks of Apparition, some of them
closer than others.
Narcissa touched his arm, gaining his attention. She rested a hand on Hermione’s cloaked
shoulder, physically keeping track of the invisible trio. Remus and Shacklebolt had stepped
through and they had a murmured, hurried exchange with Lucius as the duos Disillusioned
and cloaked themselves.
They were almost ready.
Draco cast the Disillusionment Charm on himself, before pressing himself close to Harry
under the cloak. Draco’s sole job was to help and protect Harry. He would not be fighting,
nor would he be revealing himself. The cloak itself was the weapon he would be primarily
using, shielding Harry as much as possible.
Narcissa and Lucius would be Harry’s visible protection. Neither they nor Harry would be
under Disillusionment Charms. Harry helped Narcissa under the cloak, while still keeping
track of the trio. Narcissa would keep hold of them, guiding them to the area where they
would take up position.
Lucius returned and transformed back to ferret form. Harry closed the folds of the cloak as
Lucius scampered up to sit on his shoulder.
Remus and Kingsley were left with the Vanishing Cabinet. They would be coordinating the
Order members and the students, bringing them through and putting them into position to
fight.
Shuffling back to the clearing, Harry scanned the area, his eyes darting about and trying to
make sense of everything. It didn’t help that his scar was burning fiercely, making his head
pound. Torches lit the large clearing, but he didn’t like what he saw. Tendrils of white fog
drifted through the area, another indication of the Dementor’s presence. There was a sea of
black robes, and more were continuing to pop into existence. He swallowed hard. He’d
thought they’d been making some progress in knocking down the number of Death Eaters.
Draco tugged on his arm, pulling him around the edge of the clearing. Harry shook his head,
trying to clear the shock of seeing so many Death Eaters. He didn’t need to worry about them,
not directly. He only had to worry about Nagini and Voldemort. That was enough to be
getting on with.
Nagini was circling the edge of the clearing behind her master, as they had expected. The
advantages of having insider information. Lucius had given Harry a knowing, perhaps even
sympathetic, look when he’d mentioned that Voldemort always kept Nagini near when he
was conducting rituals. Severus had simply verified that that had not changed over the last
year.
The unfamiliar weight of Gryffindor’s sword hung heavily at Harry’s hip as they manoeuvred
to position themselves behind Voldemort. Unfortunately, that seemed to bring them closer to
the Dementors. Harry wasn’t being immersed in his worst memories as he usually was
around the Dementors, but random flashes of thought were threatening to overwhelm him.
Graveyard. Death. The Astronomy Tower. Death. The Department of Mysteries. Death.
Godric’s Hollow. Death.
“Potter!” Draco whispered sharply.
Harry shot a sidelong glance at Draco, his breath coming out in short pants. He’d forgotten
that he couldn’t see Draco, but he could still feel him. Draco squeezed his hand, hard.
Closing his eyes briefly, Harry took a deep breath and attempted to calm the furious beating
of his heart. He opened his eyes and nodded, squaring his shoulders. He couldn’t see Draco,
but Narcissa gave him a sharp nod in return before they moved forward again.
It couldn’t have taken nearly as long as it felt, but eventually they ended up at the back of the
clearing. Harry, Draco and Narcissa stood facing Voldemort’s followers. Voldemort’s back
was to them and Harry wanted nothing more than to cast the Killing Curse and be done with
it.
But Nagini had to be destroyed first, or nothing else would matter.
Narcissa indicated that Hermione, Ron and Neville had moved further back. Harry turned
slightly to look behind them. There were plenty of trees where his friends would be able to
hide, but he was worried about exactly where the Dementors were.
Voldemort obviously wasn’t keen on overwhelming his followers with their presence, not
immediately, but Harry knew the Dementors were coming closer.
He cast a glance at Voldemort, who was standing commandingly, simply watching as his
followers fell into place before him. Gone was the small circle Harry had witnessed at the end
of fourth year. Now, there were easily a hundred Death Eaters, and probably many more,
gathered in a huge semi-circle, at least three deep.
Severus had been amongst the first to arrive, giving the Light side time to position
themselves. It took several minutes for all of Voldemort’s followers to follow the summons.
Harry could only be grateful that he wasn’t tied to a tombstone this time, listening to
Voldemort’s ravings as he waited.
Draco shuddered violently.

“What is it?” Harry whispered. There was no need, technically, to speak so softly under the
cloak, but it felt unnatural to speak any louder.
Harry could feel Draco shaking his head, indicating it wasn’t important. “Just Greyback,” he
muttered.
Harry nodded in understanding, attempting to suppress his own shudder. He could easily pick
out the werewolf hunched over in the front row. Severus and Remus had informed them that
Greyback had brought over several other werewolves as well. There was a collective sense of
relief amongst the Order that there were over two weeks until the next full moon.
Harry suspected that the Death Eaters that had been present at Dumbledore’s death were there
in the front row, as well, but he couldn’t be certain due to the white masks. He was positive
Alecto and Amycus were there. His mouth twisted bitterly. They’d earned positions of
honour with their involvement in Dumbledore’s death.
For every Death Eater they’d eliminated, Voldemort had brought in five others to take their
place. His forces had grown dramatically since his re-birth. Harry watched them nervously as
he waited. He pulled the sword from his belt and flexed his fingers around the hilt, attempting
to keep them limber despite the cold seeping into his bones.
Finally, Severus stepped forward, kneeling before his Master. Harry cringed in disgust.
“It is the last time he will be forced to do so,” Narcissa murmured in understanding.
They watched as Voldemort conjured a length of rope and turned it into a Portkey before
handing it to Severus. Severus bowed before disappearing.
“It’s almost time,” Draco said, his voice hushed but portraying a sense of awe.
There was a surrealness surrounding the entire situation. Harry knew that once he set things
in motion, everything would be happening quickly. It would all be over, one way or another,
soon. And he needed to get things started before Voldemort did. Severus would be back
within just a few minutes.
“Ready?” he whispered.
“Do it,” Draco whispered back.
Darting another glance between Voldemort and Nagini, Harry hissed orders to his snakes.
“It’s time,” he hissed to Salz and Lissa. Lissa, with her ability to camouflage, could blend into
her surroundings the easiest. Salz could simply change location, causing confusion.
Harry sent them out, hoping like hell their plan worked without drawing Voldemort’s
attention too early. He wasn’t used to this kind of situation. Everything carefully planned and
sneaky. If it had been up to him, he probably would’ve charged Nagini and been done with it.
He couldn’t see his own snakes for long, so he watched Nagini closely. Salz and Lissa were
to lure Nagini to Harry’s location, out of sight of Voldemort, but not his followers. Waiting
for her to come to him was difficult.
He couldn’t hear the hissing of the snakes, so hopefully Voldemort couldn’t hear them, either.
He felt like they were far too close to Voldemort. There was only, perhaps, twenty meters
separating them. But from their location, Harry, Draco, and Narcissa had a view of
everything.
They could hear everything as well. With all his followers in place except Severus,
Voldemort went into one of his grand speeches. He started off by mentioning he had plans for
the Dementors and the Slytherins, but he quickly reverted to one of his standard “We must
destroy Harry Potter” speeches while he waited for Severus’ return. He was not happy with
the way Harry had been recently thwarting his activities.
Harry rolled his shoulders, attempting to ease some of the tension and shake loose of the
Dementors’ presence. “Doesn’t he ever shut up about me?” he muttered sarcastically.
“He does have a rather unhealthy obsession regarding you,” Narcissa agreed dryly.
“Giant snake?” Draco reminded them through gritted teeth, his tone clearly stating that he
thought they were both mad to be discussing it at the moment.
“She’s coming,” Harry said. He might have been listening to Voldemort and commenting on
his speech, but he hadn’t taken his eyes off Nagini.
The huge snake started slithering closer, her large head swaying from side to side, looking
confused. Harry gripped the hilt of the sword tightly. This was the last one. The last Horcrux.
The bloody snake was large, but nowhere near the size the basilisk had been. He could do
this.
He stood tensely, waiting. Everything Hermione had researched about snakes was floating
through his mind in snatches of random facts. Snakes’ skulls loosely jointed. Get to the brain.
Eyes. Back of the skull. Through the jaw. Brain had to be destroyed.
Nagini was still five meters away when Severus popped back into existence with a lot of
terrified students in tow. Darting a glance in their direction, Harry couldn’t help but wonder
how much of it was acting on the part of the Aurors. It couldn’t be a comfortable feeling
dropping down into the centre of a group of Death Eaters, particularly in bodies you’d only
had a brief training session in which to become familiar.
Lucius scampered to the ground and transformed under the cloak. It was extremely close and
crowded, but it wouldn’t matter for long.
Harry felt rather than saw Draco bring up his wand in preparation.
“Kill her,” Draco sneered.
Harry’s eyes narrowed in on the snake that was coming ever closer. He didn’t give a fuck that
they were ambushing her. Nagini would not have a chance. But it needed to be done before
Voldemort could get started.
“Now,” he hissed. It came out in Parseltongue, but Draco parted the folds of the cloak and
fired a Stunning Spell, regardless.
Attention shifted immediately in their direction, as Harry slipped out of the folds of the cloak.
“Harry Potter,” Voldemort hissed, holding a hand up to stay his suddenly restless followers.
Harry drew up the Sword of Gryffindor in both hands, point down, as Narcissa and Lucius
threw off the cloak and fell in on either side of him.
“Narcissa? Lucius?” Voldemort was glaring in furious disbelief.
“The Malfoys stand with Harry Potter,” Lucius declared regally.
The power of shock and surprise was theirs.
Poised with the sword over Nagini’s frozen skull, Harry looked up at Voldemort. In the
surreal moment, it appeared that not only Nagini had been frozen. Voldemort stood stock still.
The Death Eaters had ceased their restless movements. The Aurors disguised as students
were poised for action. Lucius and Narcissa stood stiffly a meter away on either side of him.
On the other side of Voldemort, Harry knew Severus was prepared to fire an Anti-Apparition
Jinx at Voldemort. When they’d been making their plans, Harry had wondered if it was the
same spell Dumbledore had used to detain the Death Eaters at the Ministry. Severus had
informed him, with a wicked glint in his eye, that the spell he planned to use was far darker
and would be far more effective against the Dark Lord. It would hold them all in the area.
This is where all the planning came together. The Order members would be waiting for the
signal to come pouring into the clearing to fight. The neutral Slytherins and the members of
the DA would be ready to cast their Patronuses. Harry had no doubts that Voldemort would
be calling for the Dementors to fight, as soon as he fully realized his opposition.
Voldemort’s gaze flicked to the sword.
Harry smirked maliciously. “Sorry, Tom, no time to chat,” he said. He wasn’t about to risk
this opportunity by getting into a verbal war with Voldemort.
The frozen tableau erupted into chaos as Harry plunged the sword into Nagini’s skull. He felt
it jar against bone and jerk sideways as it continued its downward momentum. The spray of
blood was overpowered seconds later by the blinding light that exploded from the same
wound as he twisted the sword.
As he destroyed Nagini, he was only vaguely aware of Lucius and Narcissa distancing
themselves from him while swiftly erecting Shielding Spells between them and the Death
Eaters. Flashes of red, purple and blue flared off the strong shields and blended with the
white from the dying Horcrux. He wasn’t surprised that there hadn’t been any flashes of
green. Voldemort wasn’t prepared to kill him yet.
Blinded, Harry released the sword, stumbling back from the surge of power that had been
contained in Nagini. It threatened to knock him on his arse, and he was dazedly reminded of
destroying the shield that had protected the Hufflepuff Cup.
Draco was there to catch him and enfold him in the cloak, choking Harry as he dumped a
Pepper-Up Potion down his throat. As Harry tried to blink away the shock, he was fleetingly
grateful for the Slytherins and their knowledge of the bloody Dark Arts. His own experience
had also helped prepare him for this reaction.
“All right?” Draco asked tersely.
Harry stared incredulously for a moment, wishing he could actually see Draco, before
shoving away enough that he could take stock of their surroundings.
“Oh gods,” he breathed.
His actions had started a war – literally.
Severus had joined Lucius and Narcissa and they were duelling with Voldemort, not ten
meters away from where Harry and Draco stood. Their knowledge of the Dark Arts heeding
them well as they counter-acted Voldemort’s spells. Harry had never seen Narcissa so fierce,
and for the first time saw her in her role as a former Death Eater.
On the other side of the clearing – and coming increasingly closer, even during the few
seconds he watched – there was a full battle. Shouts, curses, screams, people falling, bright
flashes of spell-light brightening the entire area.
He shuddered violently as the Dementors swept over the clearing, drawn closer by the lure of
easy victims. Patronuses followed right behind them. Harry felt the sweep of magic over his
head, grateful to see the silver Newfoundland, the terrier and the otter chasing the Dementors
away. He felt no less chilled physically, but he felt warmer just knowing his friends were
there and that they were all right, at least for now. More silver animals soared over the
clearing, fighting their battle against the Dark creatures in the air.
The twins, Ginny and Blaise were obviously at work, as there were fireworks now helping to
keep the Death Eaters and that portion of the battle separated from the battle taking place
with Voldemort.
Harry tore his eyes away from the chaos, snapping Draco back to the matter at hand as well.
“Do you have the poison ready?” he asked harshly.
Draco held the vial aloft. Working under the cloak, Harry yanked the Sword of Gryffindor
out of Nagini’s head with a nasty squelching sound. As he cleaned and attached it to his belt,
Draco pulled the stopper to the poison Hermione had brewed.
Draco gagged and their eyes instantly started watering.
“Hurry,” Harry choked.
Draco dumped it over Nagini’s head and they rapidly moved out of the way, making sure the
cloak didn’t touch the acidic poison. Harry watched intently for a few seconds. It didn’t
appear to have been necessary, as nothing seemed to happen besides it melting the snake’s
head, but he’d wanted to be sure. Even now, he couldn’t be certain the poison hadn’t been
crucial, simply because he couldn’t see its effects.
He started violently when Salz suddenly appeared around his wrist. It was at least halfway
expected when Lissa slithered up his leg a couple seconds later. She settled herself around
Harry’s neck.
“Good work,” Harry hissed.
“Harry, we need to hurry,” Draco whispered urgently. “Oh, fuck!”
Harry’s eyes darted up. Several of the Death Eaters had broken through the twins’ barriers
and were engaging Lucius and Narcissa in battle. Remus, Kingsley and several others had
followed. The odd part was seeing some of the Slytherins, but knowing that it was actually
some of the Aurors fighting. Bill joined Remus, doubling up against Greyback. Three flashes
of red light suddenly came from behind Harry and Draco. Two went wide, but one caught an
unknown Death Eater, knocking him to the ground, out cold.
Severus was continuing to keep Voldemort occupied, but he was losing ground against the
powerful wizard on his own.
“Give me the bag,” Harry said harshly. He needed to end this. Now.
Draco jerked Harry’s rucksack off his shoulder, and shoved it into Harry’s hands. He still
didn’t fully understand the meaning of the items, but he certainly wasn’t questioning Harry in
the middle of the battle.
“We’ve got to get between them,” Draco said.
Harry nodded. He still wasn’t feeling all that steady on his feet, and allowed Draco to guide
him to the duel between Voldemort and his previously-thought loyal follower. On the way,
his eyes were drawn to the other duels taking place.
“Narcissa!”
Harry shouted her name in warning, not considering the fact that she wouldn’t be able to hear
him. He saw the purple beam directed at her back but he was too far away to do anything. He
jerked with surprise as it was shielded. Eyes darting to the side, he saw Neville first, casting
another spell to shield Narcissa’s back as Ron and Hermione took up positions to attack. Oh
gods, his friends were in the middle of the fight.
“Longbottom just saved my mum,” Draco breathed.
Harry nodded, eyes wide. “Neville would protect anyone’s mum,” he murmured.
Draco shook his head roughly, strands of hair whipping Harry’s face. “C’mon, we can’t help
here. You’ve got to get to the Dark Lord,” he said, pulling Harry forward again.
Moving closer, they could hear the shouted conversation between the Voldemort and Severus.
“Desist this foolish gesture, Severus,” Voldemort hissed. “We both know you are not loyal to
the boy.”
“I have been loyal to him since the day he was born,” Severus snarled, shielding himself
against a powerful curse before flinging his own in return. He’d obviously not been able to
shield all of them, though, as he was bleeding and his left arm hung uselessly at his side.
“I thought you were aware of the meaning of power,” Voldemort said coldly.
Severus smirked maliciously. “I am,” he agreed. “Unfortunately for you, you are not the most
powerful.”
“Where is the boy?” Voldemort shouted furiously.
“He will be here,” Severus assured, casting a vicious curse.
Closing his eyes briefly, Harry stepped out of the folds of the cloak with wand raised.
Voldemort had obviously been watching and waiting for his appearance, because a powerful
Shield Charm suddenly shimmered from Voldemort’s wand, separating him and Harry from
the others.
Harry’s eyes widened. None of them had expected Voldemort to be able to isolate him.
They’d planned and prepared. They’d all known Voldemort was the most powerful wizard
alive, but they’d taken that into consideration. They’d not planned well enough, obviously.
Voldemort had been a Slytherin as well.
Harry was horrifically reminded of the phoenix cage that had surrounded them when
Voldemort first returned. Only, there was no beautiful song providing him with strength. This
wasn’t supposed to happen. This was why he had Draco’s wand – to avoid this kind of
situation.
He started when he felt Draco’s hand on his back. Voldemort had managed to unknowingly
catch Draco in the cage as well.
“Yes, Potter,” Voldemort sneered viciously. “I have been prepared to meet you. You’ve turned
my followers against me, but none of them can save you now.”
Thrown off kilter by Voldemort seizing control of the situation, Harry’s eyes darted about
wildly. He could see the others’ furious movements and hear their distant shouts, the sounds
muffled by the shield.
Harry’s already harsh breathing came faster as he recognized that they wouldn’t be able to
break the shield. They’d been smart enough to not even try to dismantle it. With a sickening
feeling, he felt like he was the bloody Horcrux that had been hidden in that underground
cavern. He and Draco were trapped, and none of the others would be able to help them.
Voldemort cackled loudly, snapping Harry’s attention back to him. But Harry’s lapse in
attention cost him.
“Crucio!” Voldemort shouted.

Harry fell, screaming, as pain arced through every bone in his body. There was no sense of
true time, but it felt like hours before the curse was lifted. It could only have been seconds,
though, before Draco disrupted the curse with the cloak, stepping invisibly between Harry
and Voldemort’s wand. Harry heaved in painful breaths, listening to, and hating, the sound of
the cruel, cackling laughter.
Simmering anger began to boil over as he struggled to get to his feet again, pulling his
dropped rucksack up with him. He eyed Voldemort idling twirling both his own wand and
Harry’s – Draco’s wand – which he’d obviously summoned while Harry had been under the
curse.
“We simply can not have a repeat of past events,” Voldemort said lazily, but he was eyeing
Harry with deep suspicion, surely trying to determine how his curse had been broken.
Harry knew Voldemort was referring to the phenomenon with their wands connecting, and
there was irony in the fact that Voldemort didn’t realize it was actually Draco’s wand he was
holding. Harry was hoping like hell Draco would hurry up and slip him his own bloody
wand. It would leave Draco unprotected, but at least he had the cloak and Voldemort didn’t
even know he was there.
Voldemort was staring at him intently. Harry squinted his eyes in pain, his scar burning
fiercely as Voldemort attempted to break into his mind. He focused on keeping his
Occlumency shields in place. The longer Voldemort stared, the more frustrated he became,
unable to break through.
Harry became conversely calmer. This was the confrontation he had been preparing for. No
more waiting. Adrenaline pumping fiercely through his veins. Even without a wand, he didn’t
intend to lose to Voldemort. He had faith that Draco would help him figure a way out.
Suddenly, Draco’s wand came flying from Voldemort’s hand, his grip relaxed with his
concentration on the unarmed Harry. Harry caught the wand automatically, knowing that
Draco must’ve summoned it, and he smirked in triumph.
“I have power you know not,” Harry announced, his voice hoarse with pain but filled with
conviction.
“Love is not a power, Potter,” Voldemort hissed, beyond suspicious and into the land of
furious again.
Harry knew Voldemort recognized the paraphrasing from the prophecy, but he also knew
Dumbledore’s interpretation of the power. As far as Voldemort was concerned, Harry was
stopping him with some unknown power, and he desperately wanted to know what it was.
“Cruc –” Voldemort started to cast the curse again, but this time Harry was ready for him. He
focused on the magic . . . Interceptum . . . blocking the curse before Voldemort could finish it.
He was not going to let Voldemort torture him or those he loved any longer.
“Agreed. This is definitely not a repeat of past events,” Harry said coldly, levelling the wand
at Voldemort, responding to his earlier comment. He’d certainly not expected things to play
out this way, but he was grateful he had borrowed Draco’s wand. “No brother wands. No
leaving you to target an innocent child. No allowing you more time to gather forces.”
Voldemort’s eyes narrowed into thin slits. “You came prepared yourself, didn’t you?” he said
mockingly.
Harry swept his left arm grandly, his eyes not leaving Voldemort. “Look around you, Tom
Riddle,” he said. “You thought I, and all those with me, would be weakened by Dumbledore’s
death. Your Death Eaters were not prepared to defend and they are losing against all those I
have gathered to fight against them.”
“Love is a power,” he continued. “It is the power that you have mocked and despised that has
brought them here together. You made the mistake of not realizing that even your most
trusted follower has a heart,” he sneered.
“How did you turn Severus against me?” Voldemort demanded. “Lucius? Narcissa?”
Harry smirked triumphantly. “Respect, caring, love,” he said. “Far more powerful than fear.”
“Ridiculous,” Voldemort hissed.
Harry swept his arm again. “The truth,” he said simply.
He didn’t dare take his eyes off Voldemort, even as the snake-faced man swept his red gaze
over their surroundings.
“I will gather more followers, Potter,” he said coldly, focusing on Harry once again. “You
will not be able to kill me.”
Harry’s lip curled as he saw Voldemort’s eyes flick from the sword at his waist to Nagini’s
body. He knew why Voldemort hadn’t killed him. Voldemort needed to know how much
Harry knew about the Horcruxes, because it was obvious Harry knew at least something
about them.
Harry, unfortunately, needed to know something as well before he could kill Voldemort.
“Yes, I know what Nagini was,” he sneered, confirming Voldemort’s suspicions for him.
“You couldn’t possibly,” Voldemort said dangerously. His wand was now trained steadily on
Harry, but spells were held in check, at least for the moment.
“I know that she took my place when you couldn’t kill me,” Harry retorted. “I know that you
desperately wanted the sword that I just killed her with.” He watched as Voldemort’s eyes
widened marginally in shock.
With a brief glance at Salz on his left wrist, Harry shifted to Parseltongue. “You have no
concept of the power of love because you split your soul. You lost a vital part of yourself
when you turned Nagini into a Horcrux. And I have now destroyed her.”
Voldemort recovered quickly and cackled loudly, the sound grating on Harry’s nerves. “You
think she was my only one?” he mocked.
Harry sent him an evil smirk. He tipped his rucksack upside down, dumping out the ruined
Horcruxes.
“Your Horcruxes, Tom Riddle,” he hissed. “All six of them, destroyed. Now it’s time to kill the
seventh part of your soul.”
“No!” Voldemort roared with rage.
Harry felt an enormous amount of relief. There’d been that small fraction of doubt, which
he’d refused to think about, let alone voice to anyone, that Voldemort might have created
more Horcruxes. He could end this now.
He hesitated only a half second longer before firing the curse he’d been fated to cast since
before he was born. He hissed the Killing Curse in Parseltongue, wanting to be sure
Voldemort would actually die.
Shouting the same curse, Voldemort had been faster, not needing the extra half second to
switch to Parseltongue. As soon as the green light shot from the wand, Harry was shoved to
the ground by Draco, the two of them becoming entangled by the Invisibility Cloak.
Voldemort’s Killing Curse sparked off the edge of the cloak and, a half second later, Harry
and Draco were screaming as their world exploded.
*****
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Notes

Chapter Fifty-Two
Harry woke to the sound of whispering voices. Not that he could make any sense out of them.
He winced as he cracked his eyes open.
“Harry! Oh, thank Merlin,” Remus breathed.
“What happened this time?” Harry muttered.
Dead silence greeted his question.
Harry opened his eyes a little more. “Remus?” he questioned.
Remus’ eyes drifted to Harry’s forehead as he gently brushed strands of hair away from
Harry’s eyes.
Harry winced. Even the light touch sent waves of pain coursing through his head.
“Drink this,” Madam Pomfrey ordered, coming into Harry’s limited view.
He obeyed without question.
“Close your eyes and rest a few minutes until that starts working,” she commanded.
He thought about nodding, but decided against it. “Yes, ma’am,” he murmured.
He lay there quietly, wondering at the silence in the room. He tried to remember what the hell
had happened that had left him injured and in bed again. As the memories came rushing back,
he jerked into an upright position.
His hands flew up to cradle his head as the pain flared, threatening to shatter his skull.
“Mr. Potter, you need to lie down and rest,” Pomfrey said insistently.
Harry blinked blearily at the woman. “Madam Pomfrey?” he questioned in disbelief, finally
registering her presence and realizing belatedly that he was in the hospital wing at Hogwarts,
not home at Grimmauld Place.
“Yes, now lie down, young man,” she ordered.
Squinting against the pain still throbbing in his head, Harry lay down but glanced at Remus
beside him. “You all right?” he asked. “Where’s Draco? Where’s Severus? What happened to
Voldemort?”
Remus gave him a small, worried smile. “I’m fine, Harry. You’re the one who needs to let
Madam Pomfrey take care of you,” he said softly. “You did it, Harry. Voldemort is gone – for
good.”
Harry was confused, and he realized that he’d likely been given some Dreamless Sleep as he
could barely keep his eyes open. “Where’s Draco and Severus?” he asked desperately.
“Where’s everyone?”
“They’re fine,” Remus reassured, but the worry hadn’t left his features, and Harry wasn’t
actually reassured.
“When you killed Voldemort, you broke the connections he had with yourself and his
followers,” Remus continued. “That’s why you and Draco collapsed.”
Harry’s mind was fuzzy and his eyes were drifting shut. “But Draco’s all right?” he
questioned.
“Yes, Draco has already recovered,” Remus answered. “There were many injuries, but
everyone has survived the battle. You are the only one yet to fully recover.”
“Figures,” Harry murmured, but he was relieved to hear that everyone was all right.
The relief and the potions took over and he was pulled into slumber before he could demand
more answers.
*****
Harry groaned, his head pounding him into consciousness.
“Harry?”
“Don’t shout,” he muttered hoarsely, his throat dry.
There was a murmur of voices that rasped over his nerves, a rapid click of heels across the
floor, a vial pressed against his lips. He swallowed automatically, coughing a little at trying to
drink while still lying down.
Silence.
As the pounding gradually diminished, he slowly cracked his eyes open.
Madam Pomfrey, Ron and Hermione let out a collective exhale in relief.
“Oh, Harry, I’m so glad you’re all right,” Hermione said. She was bouncing on her toes and
appeared to be restraining from launching herself at him. Feeling rather fragile, Harry
appreciated her efforts, although he was extremely glad to see her and Ron.
“Are you two all right?” he whispered. They nodded, offering him smiles.
“Where’s Draco?” he asked.
Their expressions of relief and happiness at seeing him awake turned instantly to worry.
“Sit up, Mr. Potter,” Pomfrey said briskly. She’d allowed the trio a minute, but that was
clearly all the time she was willing to wait. “You may have some water to ease your throat.”
Alarm flared. He sat up, wincing. “Where’s Draco?” he repeated.
Hermione pressed a goblet of water in his hand as Pomfrey ran her customary scans over his
body. Both of them ignored his question.
Feeling a little dizzy at the upright position, he drank down the cold water. He squinted at
them, knowing he wouldn’t get any answers until Pomfrey had finished. His brain worked
fuzzily, trying to figure out where Draco could possibly be. He vaguely remembered waking
and seeing Remus. Working backwards, he remembered the battle anew.
“Where’s Draco?” he demanded fiercely.
The last thing he could remember from the battle was Draco’s screams echoing in his ears,
simply adding to the skull-splitting quality of the moment. He could now also remember
Remus telling him that everyone was all right, but where were they? Had Remus been lying?
Ron and Hermione looked to Madam Pomfrey questioningly.
She sighed in resignation. “His head will continue to ache due to the separation, and there is
nothing I can do for that,” she said. “However, he will survive the trip. I will go inform the
others he’s awake.” She turned and disappeared into her office.
“Separation?” Harry asked blankly. “Nevermind,” he said dismissively. “Where’s Draco?

What trip? Where is he?”
Ron and Hermione were obviously all right, and he was happy and relieved to see them, but
he was beginning to get seriously pissed off as his panic grew. Why wouldn’t anyone tell him
where Draco was?
“Just give us fifteen minutes to explain before you go tearing off,” Hermione pleaded.
“He’s being held at the Ministry for trial, along with the others,” Ron blurted out.
“What?!” Harry shouted, instantly regretting it. He clutched at his head with both hands,
hoping he could simply hold it in place. With his eyes squeezed shut, he heard rather than
saw Hermione smacking Ron.
“He wants to know,” Ron defended in a low voice. “You knew he would.”
“You didn’t have to tell him like that,” Hermione hissed.
As soon as he was sure it would hurt them more than it would hurt him, he vowed to smack
both of his best friends.
“Hermione, shut up,” Harry ground out. “Ron, explain.”
Ron would give him the information a lot faster than Hermione. He knew he was being an
arse, but he was hurting and he just wanted someone to tell him what the hell was going on.
“You killed You Know Who,” Ron said quickly. “When he died, the magical links were
snapped. All the Death Eaters fell. But so did you. They were all unconscious for at least a
day – some for two days, like Snape – and taken into custody. You’ve been out for four days
because your link with You Know Who was so much stronger. That’s what Hermione thinks,
anyway.”
He sucked in another breath. “Shacklebolt had to take the Malfoys and Snape into custody
but he’s watching over them personally in the holding cells and they’re just waiting for you.
They’re ready for trial as soon as you wake up proper. Shacklebolt says it’s mostly formality,
but it has to be done before they can be released. And for that to happen, they need you to
testify.”
Harry sent Draco a message through his bracelet, grateful no one had taken it off his wrist.
Draco, are you all right?
Harry! You’re awake!
Yeah. Are you all right?
I’m fine, prat. It’s you that’s hurt.
Severus? Lucius? Narcissa?
Fine. Fine. Fine.

I’ll be there soon.
Are YOU all right?
Headache. Otherwise, fine.
Stay. Rest.
No. Miss you.
Been missing you for days.
I’ll be there soon.
After Harry repeated his earlier message, Draco took a little longer before responding again.
Stay safe.
Harry frowned at the bracelet, wondering what Draco meant. He shoved the duvet back.
“Harry, you can’t,” Hermione cried softly.
“The hell I can’t,” Harry growled.
“What she means is that the whole world is crazy out there,” Ron said quickly. “You’ll be
mauled before you get ten steps.”
Harry paused, squinting at them in confusion.
“We can solve that,” said Fred with a flourish as he pulled off the cloak, George appearing
beside him.
“Been looking everywhere for that,” Ron muttered, glowering at his brothers.
“You had Harry’s other one,” George said dismissively.
“Lupin has it,” Ron denied.
George shrugged. “Just protecting Harry’s investments,” he said. “Thought he might need a
hand breaking free from the hospital wing.”
“How long have you been here?” Hermione asked, her brow furrowed.
“Long enough,” Fred answered.
Harry decided to simply ignore them and stood, blinking furiously as the hospital wing tilted
dangerously. Fred casually rested a hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him to sit back
down.
“Why don’t you let us help you get dressed?” George suggested easily.
“We’ve had practice and all,” Fred added cheekily.
Harry felt too ill to argue with them. He sent them a weak glare but didn’t protest as they
began stripping him out of his hospital-issue pyjamas. Hermione squeaked and turned her
back on them as George pulled off the bottoms without fanfare. Ron took a step back, staring
at his brothers warily.
“What the hell is wrong with me?” Harry asked, thinking it was too much effort to be
embarrassed. He was rather disturbingly used to Draco helping him lately and couldn’t be
arsed to care about George helping him step into clean boxers and trousers. He felt dizzy and
weak, and far too uncoordinated to dress himself. Not a good sign.
“The party!” Ron exclaimed loudly. “That’s where they dressed you.”
Harry winced painfully.
“Can we say unimportant right now?” Fred asked pleasantly, helping Harry shrug into a new
shirt.
“Sorry,” Ron muttered.
“Hermione?” Harry pleaded. He’d even take the long-winded answers now, if only anything
would start making sense.
Hermione turned back around, keeping her eyes firmly above Harry’s waist, despite the fact
that he was technically decent again. “Harry, your scar. It’s gone,” she said.
His hand flew to his forehead. Fred had been about to button the cuff of the sleeve and was
left holding the button as it tore away from the fabric.
Hermione conjured a small mirror, holding it up in front of him. He held his fringe up with
his left hand and with the fingertips of his right, he gently brushed over the smooth skin of
his forehead.
“It was a curse scar, not a normal one,” Hermione said softly. “McGonagall told me that
she’d asked Dumbledore to remove it when you were a baby, but he’d said it would be useful.
And it was. Painful for you, but useful.”
“You’d thought it would disappear if Voldemort died,” Harry said absently, still staring at his
forehead. “But I . . . I didn’t really believe it would happen.”
He tore his eyes from the mirror to look at her. “Voldemort’s really gone, then,” he said in
realization.
Hermione nodded, swallowing heavily. “Yes, Harry,” she said, her voice a little unsteady.
“You did it. He’s gone, but it was an extreme shock to your body when the connection was
broken.”
She pulled his arm down and took the button from Fred, spelling it back onto the shirt with a
murmured spell. Her voice sounded steadier when she spoke again.
“Harry, do you remember fourth year?” she asked.
He stared at her blankly. He listened with growing understanding as she reminded him about
Snape and Karkaroff’s Dark Marks gradually becoming clearer as Voldemort started
regaining his strength.
“So, see, it had disappeared along with Voldemort the last time, but it was still technically
there. It was simply . . . dormant,” she explained.
“This time the connection was actually broken completely,” he said slowly.
“Yes,” Hermione said, her tone grateful that Harry was starting to understand. “Harry, you
did it. Voldemort’s truly gone this time. I’ve asked, and Snape admitted that the Dark Mark
slowly faded last time, just as it slowly became clearer. This time, it was essentially
obliterated as soon as Voldemort died.”
She rubbed her hands down her face. “Harry, no one has known why exactly you’ve been
unconscious for the last few days. Those with the Dark Mark have recovered much faster
than you. They’ve suspected that it’s had something to do with your connection to Voldemort,
but they’ve not been aware of how deeply you were connected to him,” she said, her tone
lilting it into a faint question.
Harry shook his head slowly. “They’ve known about the connection, obviously, but I haven’t
told them how it happened,” he said.
Hermione, Harry and Ron glanced warily at Fred and George. They pretended to zip their
lips.
“Harry,” she said his name hesitantly, evidently deciding to ignore Fred and George.
“Just tell me, Hermione,” Harry said, growing impatient. He knew she was holding back
something.
Hermione closed her eyes tightly for a few moments before abruptly reaching for Harry’s
rucksack which was resting on the floor.
“Here, I’m not sticking my hand in there,” she said, passing it to him.
“What’s in here?” he asked warily.
She shuddered visibly. “One of your snakes,” she admitted.
Harry arched his brows in surprise, but stuffed his hand into his rucksack. He smiled when he
saw Lissa.
“Is Salz safe as well?” he asked.
Ron shot a disgusted look at his brothers. “Yes, these two rescued your bloody snakes,” he
said.
“Madam Pomfrey wasn’t thrilled with the idea of trying to treat you with snakes attached,”
Hermione added.
Harry grinned, the twins beaming at him in return.
“So, is Lissa all right?” Hermione asked nervously.
“Uh, she looks all right,” Harry said, wondering why Hermione was acting so oddly.
“Why don’t you ask her,” Hermione suggested.
Harry glanced at Ron questioningly, hoping he had some explanation for Hermione’s
behaviour.
“Just talk to your bloody snake,” Ron said.
Lissa really did look fine, but Harry asked her anyway. “Have you been treated all right while
I’ve been gone?” he hissed.
“Yes, Master,” Lissa said. “Although, I have not played with the little one.”
Harry shook his head, smiling ruefully. “You’ve not missed me, but you’ve missed Victoria,”
he said.
“I enjoy playing with her, but you are the only one who will allow it,” Lissa hissed.
“Well, I’m glad you’re all right, anyway,” Harry said. “Hopefully we’ll see Victoria soon, as I
miss her, too.”
He glanced back up at Hermione and was surprised to see the relief on her features. She cast
another wary glance at the twins, but again dismissed them as she spoke to Harry.
“I wasn’t sure if you would still be able to speak Parseltongue,” Hermione explained.
“Oh,” Harry said, blinking in astonishment. The possibility that he wouldn’t be able to had
never occurred to him. “You, uh, seem happy that I still can.”
“Happy is a rather strong word,” she said, eying Lissa, who was now curled around Harry’s
neck. She shook her head, dismissing the snake.
“I was worried when you weren’t waking up like the others,” she said. “Malfoy regained
consciousness about twenty-four hours after the battle. Snape took about twice as long, but
he’s also fine. You finally woke up on the third day, but Remus said you were in an extreme
amount of pain.”
She eyed him critically. “You still are,” she said.
“My head doesn’t feel like it’s going to explode now,” he muttered.
Ron snorted. “There’s a rousing endorsement for your state of health,” he said.
“Best I can offer,” Harry said, shrugging. “Whatever Pomfrey gave me, it at least took the
edge off.” He remembered her comment. “So, separation. She meant that I’m . . . what . . .
suffering from separation from Voldemort?”
“Yes,” Hermione answered. “She can’t do much else for you, because this is rather a unique
situation.”
“Big surprise,” Harry muttered.
She ignored him, continuing with her explanation. “Harry, Voldemort was a part of you –
since you were fifteen months old,” she said gently. “You didn’t know it for a very long time,
but he was there, regardless. You weren’t carrying around a part of his soul,” she paused and
they both shuddered. “But, Harry, you did have a piece of Voldemort in you. Some of his
magic.”
“But I still have it,” he said. “I can still speak Parseltongue, at least.”
She nodded in agreement. “Yes, but I wasn’t sure if you would be able to or not. When he
died, it was always possible that every bit of his magic would die with him.”
Harry stared at her in alarm. “He can’t come back, can he?”
“No! No, he can’t,” Hermione said quickly. “Your scar is gone, Harry. That means he is gone.
Permanently.”
“You’re positive?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m certain,” she said. “We’re talking about magic, not a soul.”
“All right,” Harry said, trying to calm his racing pulse. “So, what does this all mean?” He
was tired of going in circles.
“I think . . . I think it actually means that you’ll be all right,” she said, exhaling a shaky
breath. “You should be as good as new within a few days, without a loss of magic. I think it’s
just taking you longer to recover because your body, mind, and magic are having to adjust to
the sudden absence of Voldemort’s presence. You were more closely connected to him than
anyone else. The Death Eaters simply carried Voldemort’s mark on their arm. You, on the
other hand . . . well, I reckon you could say you carried his mark in your head.”
“But I’m finally rid of him,” he said, turning everything over in his mind, and rubbing at the
smooth skin of his forehead.
“Yes, Harry,” Hermione said, giving him a small smile.
He looked down at his feet to see George now shoving them into his trainers.
“There’s something disturbing about you three,” Ron pointed out conversationally.
“It’s Draco’s influence,” Harry said absently. He desperately wanted to be with Draco, and he
didn’t want to have to track him down in a Ministry holding cell first. Somehow, he didn’t
think that would be putting Draco in a pleasant, cuddling kind of mood, which is what he
really wanted.
“Madam Pomfrey hasn’t come back,” he noted, glancing up at the door to her office.
“She’s being deliberately oblivious,” Hermione said. “She knows as well as the rest of us that
we’ll be taking you to the Ministry now, even though you should still be resting.”
Harry blinked at her. “Oh,” he said.
“The Shrieking Shack will be best, I think,” Ron said. The others nodded in agreement.
“Huh?” Harry asked dumbly.
Hermione nibbled at her lip nervously. “Harry, there are reporters and all kinds of people
wanting to talk to you. There’s tons of people at the gates and they’re camped out all the way
to Hogsmeade. Going through the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack is going to be the easiest
way to sneak you out of the castle, even with the cloak.”
“Um, all right,” Harry said, deciding he didn’t really want to know any more.
He tried standing again and this time managed to stay on his feet, not feeling too bad.
“Let’s go, then,” he said.
*****
Harry was surprised at the number of people at the Ministry when they arrived. He was even
more surprised as Tonks met them in the Atrium. Who exactly had Madam Pomfrey informed
that he was awake? He followed her and Ron and Hermione through the corridors, guided by
Fred and George under the cloak. Apparating had not been pleasant and had sapped what
energy he had. By the time they stopped, he was fairly certain they were holding him up
rather than guiding him. He could feel the sweat beading on his forehead from the effort it
had taken to get this far and his head was feeling rather fuzzy again.
A large door slid open in front of him and he was dragged through. He blinked dazedly,
relieved to see Draco and Severus, Narcissa and even Lucius. He fumbled to step out of the
cloak, but the twins weren’t letting go of him.
“Harry!” Draco shouted.
Harry winced, squeezing his eyes to thin slits. “Shout at me again and I’m leaving,” he
mumbled.
The twins let go of him finally and he was instantly caught up in Draco’s arms.
“Oh Merlin, Harry, you look a fright,” Draco murmured. “But gods, you look so damned
good.”
“Why did you bring him here?” Severus demanded in a low voice. “It is clear he did not
make it here under his own power.”
“Would you have tried to stop him?” Fred asked calmly.
“Or would you have made it easier for him?” George questioned.
His face buried in Draco’s neck, Harry could hear Severus muttering something under his
breath before speaking louder. “Draco, get him on the bed,” he ordered.
“Why didn’t Pomfrey drug him?” Draco demanded.
Ron snorted loudly. “And put up with Harry’s fury afterwards? We all knew he’d be pissed
off that you lot were here. He just killed off a bloody Dark Lord and I don’t think Madam
Pomfrey was willing to risk drugging him with Dreamless Sleep more than once.”
“Harry, you told me you were fine,” Draco chided gently, simply pulling Harry down to lie
on the bed with him, not letting him go.
Harry smiled, snuggling closer to Draco. “Mmmm, ‘m fine now,” he murmured. “Just rest a
bit before we get you out of here.”
“Granger,” Severus snapped. “How long has he been awake?”
“Not long, sir,” Hermione admitted. “He . . . well, he wanted to know where Malfoy was and
wasn’t going to be put off about it. He’s not overly alert and Fred and George even had to
dress him. Madam Pomfrey said he’ll be all right, though. He just needs rest and to adjust to
not having that bond with Voldemort any longer. As you saw, his head is still aching fiercely.
Here, these are the potions she says to give him.”
Harry had his face buried in Draco’s neck and was already half asleep again. He could hear,
though, the clink of potions vials changing hands.
“He didn’t ask about anything?” Severus asked, and Harry could hear the frown in his voice.
“Lupin said he’d already reassured Harry that everyone was all right when he woke before,”
Hermione said. “I did manage to explain to him why he’s so ill, and he is aware that he killed
Voldemort, but that’s about it. He didn’t care about anything except getting to Malfoy,” she
finished with a shrug in her voice.
“Merlin, you’re stupid, Harry,” Draco muttered, holding him a little tighter.
“Well, as he’s about to be locked in with you four, he won’t be able to do much of anything
besides rest,” Tonks said cheerfully. “Yell if you need me.”
*****
Harry sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, fingertips massaging his temples. He
was so tired of his head hurting. Draco sat behind him, kneading the muscles in his shoulders.
They hadn’t been awake long. Long enough to use the loo, down some potions, then sit in
silence.
“Where’s Lucius and Narcissa?” he asked quietly. “I thought they were here.”
“They were visiting,” Severus answered dryly. “They are in the next holding cell.”
Harry nodded, absently noting that the movement didn’t make him want to scream in pain
any longer.
“This room reminds me of the Dursleys,” he said.
Draco snorted softly. “This room is better,” he muttered.
“Except that you can’t leave,” Harry pointed out.
Draco’s hands gripped tighter on his shoulders briefly, but he didn’t say anything, resuming
his massaging after a couple of seconds.
“How are you feeling, Harry?” Remus asked mildly in concern.
Harry glanced at Remus and Severus, sitting shoulder to shoulder on the bed opposite, resting
against the wall. He shrugged half-heartedly, not wanting to dislodge Draco’s hands. At least
his shoulder had finally healed.
“Considering I’ve done nothing but sleep for days, I’m tired,” he said honestly. “I’m also
bloody tired of my head hurting. I know there’s probably a million things I should be asking
about, but I’m afraid to ask about any of them. I can’t even think what the questions should
be.”
He shook his head wearily. “I’m having trouble even believing that it’s over. But maybe that’s
because it’s not really over. I’m frustrated because we’re sitting in a bloody holding cell when
we should be out celebrating with the rest of the Wizarding world.”
“Not that I really feel like celebrating,” he admitted. “I just want things to be . . . well, not
normal, as nothing is ever normal for me. Calm, though. Calm would be nice. Quiet.
Peaceful. I want to go home.”
“Harry, you can go home,” Severus pointed out.
Harry frowned at him. “No, I can’t,” he said. “You and Draco are still here.”
Draco’s arms slid around him, pulling Harry back to rest against his chest. “If I ever try to
accuse you of being selfish, you have the right to punish me however you like,” he murmured
in Harry’s ear.
Harry shivered. “But I am being selfish,” he said. “Damn it, I want you home with me! After
everything that’s happened this summer, you shouldn’t have to be sitting in the bloody
Ministry. Fuck, I hate this place,” he muttered.
“Kingsley has had no choice, Harry,” said Severus. “It has been necessary for us to be taken
into custody, despite the farce that it is. We’ve been allowed far more freedoms than most of
the prisoners,” he said, giving Harry and Draco a pointed stare. “Certainly they are not
allowed visitors.”
Harry simply snuggled deeper into Draco’s embrace.
“We’ve had to stay here and at least pretend to be obeying the laws,” Draco muttered bitterly.
Harry frowned at his tone. Remus caught his expression and smiled.
“It was not the easiest task to convince Draco it was best for him to stay here rather than
being with you in the hospital wing at Hogwarts,” he explained. “He put up quite a fight.”
“We didn’t know if Harry was going to be all right,” Draco said sullenly. “I should’ve been
there, not sitting in some fucking Ministry cell.”
“If you wish to be with Harry rather than sitting in an Azkaban cell, then it is necessary for
you to follow the procedures,” Severus said calmly.
“Like you were so calm before,” Draco muttered. “You were as worried as I was. Constantly
sending messages to Lupin, demanding to know how Harry was doing.”
“He is here now,” Severus said, conveniently side-stepping Draco’s comments. “And as soon
as he is feeling up to testifying, we will face our trials.”
Draco stiffened at the word trial.
“It must be done, Draco,” Severus said in understanding. “There is hope.”
“I’m not letting them take you to Azkaban,” Harry said fiercely, a shudder coursing through
his body. “Not even Lucius.”
Severus’ lips turned up at the edges, giving Harry a small smile. “Kingsley expects us each to
receive a full pardon, but it does rely on your testimony to simplify things,” he said drolly.
“Very few, if any, would directly go against the Saviour’s wishes, particularly as the Dark
Lord’s defeat is so fresh in everyone’s minds.”
“I’m the Saviour?” Harry asked, grimacing.
Draco sniggered, but he pressed a kiss to Harry’s temple before speaking. “Yes, Harry,” he
drawled. “You’ve been promoted.”
“Promoted?!” Harry exclaimed, wincing and regretting his own shout. Quiet was good.
Severus and Remus eyed him with concern but didn’t comment. Draco clenched his jaw, but
ignored it as well.
“Yes, you’ve been promoted,” Draco continued. “Before, you were everyone’s hope. Now,
you’ve proven they were right to put their trust in you. You’ll have everyone eating out of the
palm of your hand, bowing and scraping to the Saviour.”
Harry twisted in Draco’s arms, staring at him in horror. “You’re joking, right?” he asked
hopefully.
Draco shook his head, highly amused. “It’s actually a good thing, Harry,” he drawled. “It
means you’ll get your way with setting four evil Death Eaters loose in society again.”
Harry frowned in consternation. “You’re not evil,” he protested. “And you should be
pardoned because you deserve it, for all the things you’ve done, not because I’m the bloody
Saviour. If you go free because of me, then you’ll be subjected to Merlin knows what when I
turn into the embodiment of evil again.”
Draco stared at him incredulously. “Embodiment of evil?” he repeated. “You?”
“I may be the bloody Saviour now, but it’s not like it’s going to stay that way,” Harry
retorted. “Give everyone a few days and some will be wanting me hauled off to Azkaban
because I’m a murderer and a danger to others. Some will be wanting me sent to St. Mungo’s
because surely I must be mad for supporting four Death Eaters.”
“Harry,” Remus interjected. “You will always have many loyal supporters. Yes, there will be
those who are against you, but because of the great things you’ve done, you will have the
support of the masses. You’ve given everyone the freedom to live again and they will not
take that lightly.”
They all looked up as the heavy door opened.
“Breakfast,” Tonks said cheerfully.
Harry couldn’t help but grin. “Since when did you turn into a house-elf?”
“Since my favourite hero boy decided to turn himself into a prisoner,” she retorted. She
grinned cheekily at Draco. “And, of course, my dearest cousin.”
She turned to face Remus and Severus, shaking her head, her hands on her hips after she’d
levitated the breakfast trays to the beds. “I do have to wonder if I should leave Remus to rot
away here, though. Leaving me for the oh so charming Snape.”
Harry slapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes wide. Draco was sniggering softly in his ear. “I
think I see why you like her so much,” he whispered.
“I gather everyone knows about their relationship now?” Harry asked.
“Yes, and she’s teased Lupin unmercifully about it every time she’s come in here when he’s
around,” Draco answered. “She’s been smart enough not to attack Severus directly, who’s
enjoyed watching Lupin squirm just as much as she has.”
The door had been left wide open and Kingsley ushered Madam Pomfrey into the room.
“More house calls?” Harry asked dryly.

Kingsley just smiled. “You’ll be allowed to have your breakfast after she checks you over.”
Madam Pomfrey glanced around the overly crowded holding cell in disapproval. “Do not
believe you will be allowed to get away with this when you are attending Hogwarts this year,
Mr. Potter,” she said sternly. “When you are injured, you will stay in the hospital wing until I
believe you are fit to leave.”
“How do you know I’ll be injured?” Harry protested.
He received pointed looks from every single person in the room and he gave in meekly to
Pomfrey’s ministrations. When she was finished poking and prodding him, she gave Kingsley
a reluctant nod before leaving.
Harry watched her go warily. “What was that about?” he asked.
“Against her better judgement, she is stating that you are capable of withstanding trial today,”
Kingsley said.
Harry blinked at him. “Am I on trial?”
“You might as well be,” Draco muttered. “You’ll be the one saying more in our defence than
anyone else.”
“Harry, what do you know of the Ministry’s trial procedures?” Kingsley asked.
Harry’s brow furrowed as he thought about it. “Well, I don’t think my trial was exactly
normal. I’m probably the only person ever tried by the full court for underage magic,” he
said. He was staring at the floor and missed the exchanged glances over his head.
“I’ve seen a few of the Death Eater trials from before but,” he looked up at Kingsley in
realization, “the accused were never brought into the room until all the testimony had already
been given. I’ll be there for their entire trial, but they’ll only be there for the verdict. They
really can’t defend themselves.”
“How is it that you’ve witnessed Death Eater trials?” Remus asked.
Harry glanced warily at Severus. “Dumbledore’s Pensieve in fourth year,” he admitted. “I

think he left it for me on purpose.”
“And in fifth year . . .” Severus trailed off.
Harry nodded. “It wasn’t intentional but it was there and Draco called you and . . . I’m sorry,”
he said miserably.
“It is done,” Severus said.
“You two have more cryptic conversations,” Draco said irritably. “I don’t reckon either of
you will tell me how I seem to be involved in this one?”
“Actually,” Harry frowned as he remembered, “it was when you discovered Montague in the
Vanishing Cabinet. You came running to tell Snape.”
“And our illustrious Mr. Potter got himself into a great deal of trouble,” Severus said dryly.
“Yeah,” Harry agreed, sighing. If he’d stayed out of Severus’ Pensieve, he would’ve
continued taking Occlumency lessons. Although, he knew that he and Severus hadn’t been
getting anywhere in the lessons anyway. There were simply too many factors that led to
Sirius’ death.
“It is not your fault, Harry,” Severus said, understanding where Harry’s thoughts were taking
him.
Harry shrugged. “I know,” he admitted sadly. “It’s Voldemort’s, but we all could’ve made
better choices.”
Severus nodded in acknowledgement. Remus was looking at them with a glimmer of

suspicion but the others were staring at them blankly.
“Is there anything to do with Death Eater trials in this conversation?” Tonks asked curiously.
Harry started to shake his head no, but then looked at Severus questioningly. “Does the
Ministry know about Narcissa’s involvement?” he asked.
“I do not believe so,” Severus said. “Albus never deemed it necessary for the Ministry to
know everything,” he added dryly.
“So, what exactly is she on trial for?” Harry asked.
“Simply for being a Death Eater,” Kingsley said. “The Ministry has no other specific crimes
that they can charge her with.”
He nodded at Draco. “Draco is being charged with being a Death Eater, attempted murder
and leading the Death Eaters into Hogwarts.”
“Attempted murder of whom?” Harry asked, wondering if they knew about Katie and Ron.
Kingsley blinked. “Of Dumbledore,” he said, staring at him and Draco suspiciously.
“Oh, well, that’s good, then,” Harry said. He spoke again quickly. “What about Lucius?”
“Lucius is actually rather lucky,” Kingsley admitted. “He has already been tried and
convicted for his Death Eater status and breaking into the Ministry previously. The time he
has served leaves him with a fairly blank slate. He was sitting in an Azkaban cell when You
Know Who was at his worst.”
“So, what exactly is he being charged with, then?” Harry asked.
“His only new charge is breaking out of Azkaban,” Kingsley said, giving Harry a pointed
stare.
Harry smiled innocently. “I reckon I have to tell them how Scrimgeour released him and
faked his death for me, then, won’t I?”
“I believe it is a good thing for you that they will not be subjecting the Saviour of the
Wizarding world to Veritaserum,” Kingsley said with a wry twist of his mouth.
Harry’s smile fell. “They won’t be giving Veritaserum to anyone, will they?” he asked
nervously.
“No,” Severus answered. “Veritaserum is rarely used in Ministry trials because it is best used
on the unsuspecting or the weak.”
Harry knew that, actually. Veritaserum certainly hadn’t been administered at any trial he’d
ever witnessed. It left him with a bitter taste in his mouth, knowing that if it was used, Sirius
would never have been sent to Azkaban.
Ministry trials left a great deal to be desired. Everything was simply up to the Wizengamot
and the current Minister’s discretion. A simple hearing of evidence, a majority vote, and the
Minister’s ruling.
Harry was disgusted with the entire process, even considering the fact that the system would
be working in his favour.
“The Ministry is a fucking joke,” he muttered.
“Why do you think I do not wish to run it?” Kingsley asked dryly.
“Well, I wish you’d stay,” Harry said. “At least you’re honest and will try to do right for
everyone.”
“Honest? Me?” Kingsley said in amusement, arching his brows. “The one who has a history
of covering up for Azkaban escapees? The one currently being corrupted by the Saviour?”
“I’m not corrupting you,” Harry protested amongst the other’s laughter.
“And to think that it has not even been necessary for Lucius to give you lessons,” Severus
said smoothly.
Harry opened his mouth to argue that accusation, but wasn’t sure how to.
“You, dear Harry, are a master manipulator,” Draco drawled. “Whether you are willing to
admit it or not.”
“I’m only trying to do the right thing,” Harry said stubbornly.
“It is that fact that allows you to get away with a great deal more than the average person,”
Remus pointed out mildly.
“That, and the fact that he killed off the Dark Lord,” Draco added, smirking.
“Corrupt away, Harry,” Tonks said cheerfully. “You’re surely one of the few to corrupt with
the goal of doing the right thing rather than for personal gain.”
Harry squirmed uncomfortably. “I’m not really being completely unselfish,” he admitted.
“Harry, what do you wish to receive as reward for freeing us from You Know Who?”
Kingsley asked abruptly.
Harry looked at him in alarm, having sudden visions of medals and acceptance speeches. “I
don’t want anything,” he said.
“Just your boyfriend and your family?” Kingsley suggested.
“Well, yeah,” Harry said softly.
“As Minister, I’m not against doing the right thing and working to get them the pardon they
deserve,” Kingsley said quietly. “It is not a mutually exclusive task to work to give you what
you really want. You have every right to ask for a great deal more than the right to live with
your family and that justice be served.”
Harry bit at his lip, disturbed by how much power he seemed to hold over everyone. It was
downright scary and nerve wracking. It wasn’t going to stop him from getting the pardons
Severus and the Malfoys deserved, but it was still disturbing.
He looked at Draco. “Aren’t you scared I’ll fuck this up somehow? Your entire future
depends on this.”
“With you on my side? No, I’m not the slightest bit scared,” Draco answered seriously.
*****
Harry walked the Ministry corridors, protected by Kingsley and Tonks on either side of him.
He tried not to wince at all the noise.
“If it wasn’t today, you would’ve had to wait until Monday,” Tonks said sympathetically.
Harry nodded. He didn’t want to wait the weekend in a holding cell. He could handle a
headache. The attention from all those who spotted him, though, was extremely alarming.
He was reminded of his first visit to the Leaky Cauldron. That had been ten years after
Voldemort disappeared and Harry had been a scrawny eleven-year-old. Yet he’d been hailed
as a hero, adults fawning over him.
This . . . this was a hundred times more surreal than that. Voldemort’s defeat – and truly gone
this time – was fresh in everyone’s minds. They were all aware that Harry had won. It had not
been a passive win, such as when he was an infant. Harry had actively conquered Voldemort
this time.
Everybody stopped in their tracks to watch him walk past, looks of awe on their faces.
Females squealed when they caught sight of him. Many made an attempt to touch him.
“Merlin, you’d think I was bloody royalty,” Harry muttered.
“To them, you are,” Kingsley said.
“I’m just a seventeen-year-old with a headache who wants to go home and crawl into bed
with his boyfriend,” Harry said.
“You’re going to be breaking hearts when that news gets out,” Tonks said knowingly, a grin
threatening to split her face. “My dear cousin is going to be perfecting his hexes, if I’m not
mistaken.”
Harry groaned. “Why do I find myself being suddenly glad that Crabbe and Goyle have
appointed themselves as my personal bodyguards?”
He frowned as he was ushered into one of the lifts, realizing he hadn’t even asked where they
were. All he knew was that everyone was all right, meaning everyone had survived the battle.
He pushed the thoughts aside. He could only handle so much at a time.
As they stepped out of the lift, Harry shuddered. He’d not been down this corridor since
Sirius’ death. Best not to think of that, either.
“All right?” Tonks asked.
Harry swallowed heavily, nodding.
“The others are already in there,” Kingsley said.
Harry stared at him blankly.
“Remus, Minerva, the Weasleys – anyone who can, and will, testify,” Kingsley said
pointedly.
“Although, don’t see why they’re necessary, what with Harry here,” Tonks said.
Kingsley stopped him. “Harry, it will be necessary for you to explain, as much as possible,
everything that has happened,” he said. “You are aware of this, aren’t you?”
Harry shrugged. “Yeah,” he admitted. “There’s just a few things I can’t touch on.”
“I don’t think it will matter,” Kingsley said dryly. “You will have them all hanging on your
every word.”
*****
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Notes

Chapter Fifty-Three
Harry sat next to Kingsley at the front centre of the room, only half-listening to the listing of
crimes. He knew more about what crimes had been committed than they did. Kingsley knew
a fair amount, but he wasn’t admitting any more than necessary. Harry wondered briefly what
house he’d been in at Hogwarts. Slytherin seemed like a fair bet, if not Gryffindor. Fudge had
surely been a bloody Hufflepuff.
Thankfully, he wasn’t around any longer. Harry felt a pang of remorse that Scrimgeour
wasn’t around. The man had grown on him, and he certainly hadn’t wanted the man to die.
Too many people had died.
He couldn’t help but look over his left shoulder at all the people there. Kingsley had been
right and there were a great number of people present to support . . . well, he wasn’t sure if
they were there to support Draco and the others on trial or more to support him in their
defence. It was probably more the latter, but that was all right. He was relieved to see all of
them.
Ron and Hermione, the twins and Ginny. Fred and George were surely there for Draco’s sake
as well as Harry’s. The other Weasleys were present. Even Percy was in the room, actually,
but he was on the other side of the room along with all the officials. His head was down,
though, and he looked like all his spirit had gone out of him as he recorded the proceedings.
Harry could only hope that Voldemort’s defeat had finally woken Percy up to what he’d been
missing. Because if that didn’t do it, then certainly nothing would.
McGonagall was in attendance, along with many of the Order members. Moody looked as
sullen as ever, but when he caught Harry’s eye, he winked at him. Harry blinked in
astonishment before offering him a small grin.
All of the members of the DA were present. What was shocking was the fact that the neutral
Slytherins were dispersed throughout the group. Although, Harry found himself not being too
surprised to see Daphne sitting with Lavender and the Patil twins. Blaise was sitting with
Ginny.
Crabbe and Goyle appeared to be under Blaise’s control for the time being, what with Harry
and Draco otherwise engaged. They had their issues, but Harry found himself feeling
extremely proud of them. It had probably taken more guts for them to stand up and fight on
Harry’s side than it had for a lot of people. They didn’t appear to make many decisions on
their own, but they’d made that one.
Harry was grateful to see for himself that everyone had made it through the final battle.
Kingsley had filled that side of the room with supporters – and not reporters. There was also
relief in the fact that they all looked at him like they normally did. He was still Harry to this
group of people.
The other side of the room was another story. He was reminded of Bagman’s trial that he’d
witnessed in Dumbledore’s Pensieve. He wouldn’t be one bit surprised if he got asked for a
bloody autograph in the middle of the trial. Many of the members were gazing at him in awe.
Some with a hint of fear. But mostly in awe.
He was a real live hero, gracing them with his presence. Harry snorted softly. If he didn’t start
looking at this with a bucket of salt and a sense of humour, he was going to go mad.
Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he turned his head enough to give Remus a rueful smile.
Reassured, Remus smiled in return.
Tonks darted them both a knowing, amused grin. Harry felt sure that if she was free to talk,
she’d have some wonderful commentary regarding the fawning behaviour of the members of
the Wizengamot.
They were caught out, however, by one of the older members.
“Mr. Potter, do you find such heinous crimes to be a source of amusement?” The little, old
wizard was staring at Harry with severe disapproval.
“No, sir,” Harry said contritely. He gestured to his left. “This is simply the first time that I’ve
seen many of my friends since Voldemort was defeated, as I’ve been in the hospital wing. I’m
relieved to actually see that they’re all right and it makes me happy.”
He inwardly rolled his eyes at the soft sighs and looks of sympathy and understanding he
received. This was too bloody easy. Draco would be so proud.
“Yes, well, I do see how that would explain the source of your smiles,” the wizard said. “This
is a serious matter at hand, however, and it should be addressed accordingly.”
“With all due respect, sir, I do agree that it should be addressed seriously, but I don’t
understand the point of rehashing the actual crimes,” Harry said.
“And why not?”
Harry shrugged. “This trial isn’t about determining guilt, is it? We all know that they’ve
committed crimes. They were Death Eaters. I’d hazard a guess that they’re the most well-
known, for that matter. Therefore, this trial isn’t about determining guilt. The question is
whether you’ll pardon them or not, considering the extenuating circumstances of war.”
“Mr. Potter, you are aware that a pardon is the forgiveness of a crime and the punishments
associated with it?”
Harry shrugged again. “Yeah,” he said. The “what’s your point?” was left off but clearly
heard by all.
“They’ve committed many crimes,” the wizard said insistently. “Not all of them conducted
from the right side of the war. Surely you do not expect them to be pardoned for all of their
past crimes.”
“Yes, I do,” Harry said simply, leaving most members of the Wizengamot blinking in
astonishment.
Kingsley cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should get straight to Mr. Potter’s testimony?” He
turned the suggestion into a question, directing it to the other members.
“One question first,” the old wizard said. He stared intently at Harry. “Mr. Potter, are you
stating that the four accused are guilty of all of the crimes listed?”
“Yes,” Harry admitted.
The direct question and answer sent a wild murmur through the audience. Clearly no one had
expected that. He knew, though, that they would be more likely to believe everything he told
them from that point on. At least, he hoped so. Otherwise, he’d just made a serious mistake.
He bit his lip nervously, but even after thinking on it for a minute, he stood by his decision.
Everyone already knew Severus killed Dumbledore. It wasn’t like it was news to anyone and
that was the biggest crime that was being addressed. What they didn’t know was all the
things that the four accused had done to redeem themselves. Not that Severus technically
even needed redeeming as far as Harry was concerned. Severus had always been on the right
side. And he would make sure everyone was aware of that fact before he was through.
“Are you ready, then?” Kingsley asked quietly. “Considering that you just skipped half of the
trial procedures,” he added dryly.
Harry looked at him sheepishly. “Saves time, doesn’t it?”

“That it does,” Kingsley agreed, shaking his head.
He conjured a comfortable chair at the front of the room for Harry. As Harry moved to face
everyone, he was thankful he didn’t have to sit in that horrible chair with the chains. He
couldn’t help briefly comparing the dark green armchair with the cosy chintz chairs that
Dumbledore had conjured when he’d been a witness for Harry.
It did make him feel a little better to remember that Dumbledore had cleared Severus in the
past, covering part of the time when Severus had been a real Death Eater. He remembered the
words Dumbledore had spoken when Karkaroff had been naming names.
“Severus Snape was indeed a Death Eater. However, he rejoined our side before Lord
Voldemort’s downfall and turned spy for us, at great personal risk. He is now no more a
Death Eater than I am.”
Words Harry had turned over in his mind many times and taken too long to finally believe in
fully. But it was a reminder that changing sides counted for a great deal with the council,
particularly when vouched for by someone respected throughout the community. There was
certainly precedent set for what Harry was doing.
His eyes swept over the people sitting on the benches before him. The awe was dimmed now.
Everyone was watching him intently, waiting for him to tell his story.
Taking a deep breath, he began.
*****
Harry bowed his head, exhausted. His head was throbbing unmercifully, but he did his best to
ignore it. This was too important to let a little pain get in the way. He felt like he’d been
talking for hours, and probably had been, he realized. The room was absolutely silent. No
rustling robes, no quiet murmuring, no benches scraping over the stone floor.
He wanted to laugh, although it wasn’t really funny. He’d told Blaise the week before that
he’d probably never hear the full story of what had happened that summer. That was still
technically true, as there were a few things that Harry had mentioned only in vague
references. The biggest being the Horcruxes. As he’d told Kingsley he would, he’d also
fudged a little on how Lucius had “escaped” from Azkaban.
He’d told the truth, otherwise, while conveniently leaving a few things out. More than a
summer’s worth of personalized truth. Beginning with the prophecy – although, not how it
had originally come to Voldemort’s attention – he explained as much as he possibly could.
Never in his life had he felt so exposed. By revealing his own weaknesses, he’d been able to
highlight the strengths of the others. Draco, Severus, Narcissa and Lucius were revealed as
the people Harry had come to know that summer. Human, with their own strengths and
weaknesses that had helped carry them through to victory.
Kingsley had conjured a small table beside his chair long before and Harry poured himself
some more water from the jug that rested on its surface. His throat was dry and his voice was
hoarse after talking for so long.
His movements broke the absolute silence of the room. Sipping the water, he looked back up
as Kingsley cleared his throat.
“Are there any questions for Mr. Potter?”
Several people looked like they might have had questions, but only the little, old wizard from
earlier dared to voice them. Harry tensed as the man began speaking, but it wasn’t any of the
questions he feared.
“You have made it clear that they have renounced their ways while under your influence this
summer. What makes you believe that they will not return to unlawful activities if they are
pardoned?”
“Are you suggesting that I’ve been their keepers this summer?” Harry asked in disbelief.
“Mr. Potter,” the wizard said slowly. He paused, appearing to choose his words carefully. “I
am suggesting it has been your close proximity which has been . . . beneficial to their
behaviour these past couple months.”
“In other words, you’re afraid of pardoning them unless I agree to watch over them like
children,” Harry said flatly. “You wish to make me responsible for them.”
“Are you unwilling to be held responsible for them?” he asked quickly.
“What kind of question is that?” Harry asked rhetorically. “If I say yes, you take it to mean
that I think they need someone to watch over them. If I say no, you take it to mean that I’m
not willing to stand behind their actions.”
The wizard continued to stare at him expectantly.
Harry clenched his jaw. “If the members of the Wizengamot are incapable of doing the right
thing by pardoning these people who should be lauded as heroes for all they’ve done for the
magical community, then yes, I am completely willing to be held responsible for their
actions.”
The wizard sat back with a look of contemplation.
“If I might make a suggestion?” McGonagall spoke up as she stood to address the courtroom.
Kingsley nodded his permission, his expression suspiciously blank. Harry’s eyes darted
between the two of them warily.
“Perhaps a year of community service in which they might prove themselves in the public
eye,” McGonagall suggested. “While they are indeed heroes, much of their activity has been
conducted under cover out of necessity.”
“What did you have in mind?” the wizard asked suspiciously.

“As you all know, Hogwarts has been officially declared open for the next school year,”
McGonagall said briskly.
Harry blinked. It was news to him. Good news, though he wasn’t sure where McGonagall
was going with this.
“I am in need of Potions, Defence and Transfigurations professors,” McGonagall said. “I

propose that Narcissa Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape serve one year at the school.
Draco Malfoy should return to the school to attend classes. He will require his NEWTS if we
wish him to be a contributing member of society. As his community service, I propose that he
be responsible for brewing the necessary potions for the hospital wing for the entire year.”
Harry gaped at her, along with almost everyone else in the room – admittedly, for different
reasons. As far as he was concerned, it would put Severus back at the school where he
wanted to be. Draco’s punishment was the one Severus had already given to him and Harry
anyway. Narcissa would be at the school and it would keep the family, including Victoria,
close together during Harry and Draco’s final year of school. And it would serve Lucius right
to have to teach.
It couldn’t be more perfect. And there was actually precedent already set for her suggestion.
Dumbledore had brought Severus to the school years before after a trial not unlike this one.
“You can not be serious!”
McGonagall looked down her nose at the speaker with her sternest expression. “I assure you,
I am completely serious.”
“Harry Potter will be attending his final year of school,” she said. “This will put them within
close proximity, for his influence to be beneficial.”
Harry’s eyes widened to hear the wizard’s earlier words tossed back at him.
“They would be conducting their service within the public eye where their deeds could be
observed. As for their qualifications, I believe that if they are capable of teaching our dear
Mr. Potter, they will be capable of teaching our other pupils with skill.”
“But the Malfoys have no teaching experience!”
“I do have an advisor in mind that would be able to assist them with lesson plans and such,”
McGonagall said briskly.
Harry attempted to suppress his sudden grin. The crafty old woman had just secured a place
for Remus at the school as well, he was sure of it.
“We can not, in good conscience, place them within Hogwarts. Parents will not allow their
children to attend where known Death Eaters are present.”
“For one,” Harry interrupted. “They are no more Death Eaters than I am,” he said,
unconsciously using the words Dumbledore had used so long ago. “Two, they are intelligent,
competent instructors, as I’ve learned through experience. Three, whether the parents like it
or not, they are heroes of this war. Four, do you really think Professor McGonagall would
deliberately risk her students’ lives?”
He shook his head. “You’re all nutters if you think Professor McGonagall would put up with
any nonsense as Headmistress,” he said fervently.
His comment brought forth several reluctant smiles as well as several disapproving frowns.
Kingsley looked like he was attempting to suppress a smile. Quiet sniggering could be heard
from the left side of the room.
Harry smiled sheepishly, apologetically, at the members of the council. It probably wasn’t his
smartest idea to call them mental. He was amazed to receive so many indulgent smiles in
return. Merlin, he could get away with murder with this crowd. He quickly ducked his head
under the pretence of pouring more water. He swallowed heavily. He was getting away with
murder.
“Perhaps we should bring in the accused now?” Kingsley suggested. The members of the
council nodded in agreement.
Harry resumed his seat next to Kingsley as Tonks went to retrieve them. He sat tensely, trying
not to think too much. With the way his head ached, it hurt to think. There was a quiet
muttering in the room now, but he couldn’t pick out any of the words. He watched with vague
interest as Kingsley conjured three chairs to match the one Harry had been sitting in for so
long. It was a statement that they were not being treated as dangerous criminals.
Harry smiled faintly as Draco, Severus, Narcissa and Lucius were led into the room. Faces
impassive, they took their seats calmly with heads held high. Draco caught his eye and Harry
felt instantly better. Draco had confidence in him, even when he didn’t have confidence in
himself.
Harry risked a glance to his right, checking the reactions of the council members. Some
looked afraid but most were examining the accused with open curiosity. Most likely
attempting to reconcile their images of hardened Death Eater with the images Harry had
brought out.
Kingsley cleared his throat, capturing everyone’s undivided attention. “Mr. Potter has spoken
on your behalf,” he said, his deep voice resonating throughout the room. “At this time, the
council is considering pardoning each of you for past crimes in recognition of all that you
have done for the benefit of the Light side during time of war.”
“Many are uncomfortable, however, with granting a full pardon, considering the nature of
your past behaviour, and believe a condition of one year of community service would be
appropriate.”
Draco glanced sharply at Harry as the others stiffened. Harry smiled weakly. He wasn’t
happy with being their keepers, either, but at least it would get them all back to Hogwarts.
“Do you have any objections or wish to say anything in your defence?” Kingsley asked.
“We accept the terms of the council,” Lucius said smoothly, the other three nodding once in
agreement.
“Very well, then,” Kingsley said.
He faced the members of the Wizengamot, restating the terms and conditions that
McGonagall had suggested earlier. Harry watched the four at the front of the room closely for
their reactions. Severus, Lucius, and Narcissa managed to hide their reactions well, only a
marginal widening of their eyes showing their surprise. Draco’s mask slipped completely for
a few seconds as he stared at Kingsley in shock.
Kingsley put it up for voting. “All those in favour of the conditional pardon?”
Harry couldn’t count fast enough, but the majority of the members had raised their hands,
most of them staring at Harry as they did so.
“All those opposed?”
A few raised their hands. Harry blinked as he realized they were all deliberately avoiding his
gaze.
Kingsley announced the verdict and it was abruptly over. The sudden cheering from the left-
hand side of the room overwhelmed Harry in his already stunned state. He winced as the
sound reverberated through his skull.
Draco materialized in the chair Tonks had sat in earlier, pulling Harry close. “Harry, you did
it,” he exclaimed softly. “Gods, are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Harry said dazedly. He simply couldn’t believe it was suddenly all over.
Voldemort was gone, his family was free, his friends had survived, and they were all going to
be heading back to Hogwarts. Extreme relief was making him feel light-headed, but
combined with the migraine-sized headache he had, he was beginning to feel physically ill.
He swallowed heavily. This was not his moment and he didn’t want to get sick and ruin it for
the others. He tilted his head up to look at Draco.
“You’re free,” he murmured. “Congratulations.”
Draco nodded absently in acknowledgment. “Harry? You’re not looking very good,” he said
worriedly.
Severus crouched down beside them. He brushed the back of his hand across Harry’s cheek
and forehead as if he were checking for fever.
“Congratulations, Severus,” Harry said softly.
Severus’ expression softened, his fingers brushing Harry’s fringe away from his eyes. “It is
you who deserves congratulations, Harry,” he said. “It is due to your efforts that we are free,
even conditionally. I never expected to receive my life back, let alone gain so much more
than I ever had before. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Harry said.
“Severus, Draco, I’m afraid there is paperwork you must sign,” Kingsley said, eyeing Harry
in concern.
“Remus, take him home,” Severus said, looking over Harry’s shoulder.
“I want to stay with Draco,” Harry protested. “Then we should be celebrating.”
“You will be doing nothing of the sort,” Severus said, his tone brooking no argument.
“Thanks to you, Draco will be able to go home shortly. You’ve done your part. Now, you are
to go home and rest.”
Harry sagged in defeat, feeling like he was taking away from their victory. His body was
betraying him, though, and he couldn’t deny that going home and going to bed sounded like a
good idea. With the pressures suddenly gone, it was as if his body decided it was finally all
right to collapse.
Draco hugged him close. “Harry, we’ll celebrate later, all right? When you’re feeling better.”
“I’m tired of feeling like shite,” Harry muttered bitterly.
With a finger under Harry’s chin, Draco tilted Harry’s head up. “The worst is all over, Harry,”
he said. “There’s no hurry to celebrate. No need to rush for anything.” He pressed a chaste
kiss to Harry’s lips. “It’s time for healing.”
*****
Remus was attempting to usher Harry upstairs, but Harry detoured into the nursery.
“Daddy!”
Victoria had been standing, but she dropped to her hands and knees to crawl to Harry. It was
faster than the few wobbling steps she’d been able to manage so far.
Harry dropped to the floor himself, ignoring the pounding in his head, sweeping her into his
arms.
As happy as Victoria was to see him, she didn’t put up with Harry hugging her tightly for
long. She squirmed in protest until Harry let her down. She stayed in his lap, though.
Winky handed Victoria the owl cuddly she was so fond of. “It is good to have Master Harry
home,” she said quietly.
“Thank you, Winky,” Harry said gratefully. “Victoria and I are both very lucky to have you
taking care of us.”
Winky beamed at him tearfully before bowing and disappearing.

Harry stared down at the little girl. “It’s all over, pumpkin,” he said softly. “Your daddy will
be home soon.”
She grinned up at him and Harry smiled. It was going to be all right.
“She’s not been alone with Winky all week,” Remus spoke up quietly.
“Where’s she been?” Harry asked in surprise.
“She has spent a great deal of time with Molly,” Remus said. “I do believe Molly has enjoyed
getting to know her granddaughter.”
“Oh,” Harry said, blinking furiously. “Does Draco know?”
“Yes, although Narcissa was the one to suggest it,” Remus said.
Harry knew his mind was a little fuzzy, the pain making it more difficult to think clearly, but
he wasn’t sure this would be easy to understand even if he was feeling well. He’d forced
himself to concentrate throughout the day with so much riding on his testimony, but had
allowed himself to relax after leaving the Ministry. It wasn’t easy to make his mind start
working again now that it had shut down.
He didn’t protest when Remus gently lifted Victoria from his lap.
“Harry, you should go lie down,” Remus urged.
Pushing himself to his feet, Harry nodded weakly. Perhaps he’d be able to sort his mind out
after he got some more sleep.
*****
Harry woke feeling refreshed and blessedly normal. No pounding in his head. No aching in
his shoulder. He was warm and comfortable, wrapped snugly in Draco’s arms, and in their
own bed. Mostly comfortable. He eased out of bed and slipped into the loo.
Walking back into the bedroom, he smiled happily to see Draco awake, lying on his side and
propped up on his elbow.
“You’re awake finally,” Draco said.
Harry crawled back into bed and kissed Draco good morning. “I am,” he said. “I feel good,
too.”
“I’ll attest to that,” Draco said with a lascivious smirk, gliding his hand down Harry’s side to
rest on his hip.
“What did you mean by finally?” Harry asked curiously.
Draco paused, his smirk turning into a half-smile. “You’ve been asleep all weekend,” he
revealed.
Harry blinked in astonishment. “What day is it?”
“It’s Monday,” Draco answered. “When we got back Friday, Severus had Madam Pomfrey
check you over. She put you in a healing sleep. Let’s just say that she’s not impressed with
how hard you’ve pushed yourself over the last month or so.”
Harry shrugged uncomfortably. “She knew I had things to do,” he said.
“Yes, which is why she never forced you to rest properly before,” Draco agreed. “With all the
crises past, though, she had Severus’ permission to knock you out until you were fully
healed.”
“Oh,” Harry said, not quite sure how to feel about that. “Well, I reckon it worked because I
feel better now than I have for a long time.”
He stretched out on his back, staring blankly up at the blue canopy.
“You’re still here,” he said softly.
“Of course I am,” Draco drawled. “Where else would I be?”
“Dead, Azkaban, Malfoy Manor,” Harry listed the possibilities, his fears. “I was always
afraid to think ahead to this point. I’d talk about it, but I’ve always known I wouldn’t really
have a future until I’d destroyed Voldemort. But it’s all over now. I mean, surely there’ll be
repercussions, but it’s all over. Voldemort’s gone. You’re here. I’m here.”
“You get to live now, Harry,” Draco said, tracing a finger along Harry’s jaw.
“‘Neither can live while the other survives’,” Harry quoted. “That’s what it means, doesn’t it?
I’m free to live my life now that he’s finally gone.”
“I think so,” Draco agreed. He hesitated, his finger pausing in it’s tracing of Harry’s features.
“You do know it’s not going to be perfect now, don’t you?” he asked.
Harry turned his head to look at him, hearing the touch of uncertainty in Draco’s voice.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve received a lot of fan mail this last week,” Draco said. “But we’ve all received a lot
of Howlers as well. Especially the last two days.”
“Ah, so I’ve turned into the embodiment of evil even sooner than I expected,” Harry said
dryly. “I tried telling you I would.”
“You’ve received a couple like that,” Draco admitted. “You’re not bothered by them?”
“A little, maybe, but I’m rather used to it,” Harry said. “I’m periodically shunned for one
reason or another.”
“Most of the Wizarding world is rather pleased with you at the moment,” Draco said dryly.
“Yeah, so it doesn’t much matter what a few of them have to say,” Harry said. “To be honest,
I really don’t care much what any of them have to say anymore. I’d much rather they all
forget about me and just leave me alone.”
“That’s not going to happen, Harry,” Draco said.
“I know,” Harry said, “but it’s a nice thought, anyway.”
Draco didn’t comment, staring at the sheets.
Harry frowned at him. “What are you not telling me?”
“Most of the Howlers are for the rest of us,” Draco said. He paused. “Most of them are for
me, actually. Since the trial, everyone knows we’re together, and they’re warning me to stay
away from you. You’re too good to be with Death Eater scum like me.”
“You’re not believing them, are you?” Harry asked.
“No,” Draco answered.
Harry simply stared at him.
“Maybe a little,” Draco admitted irritably. “Merlin, Harry! You could have absolutely anyone
you want. You’ve done your good deed. I’m free to go about society again and even go back
to school. Why the fuck would you want to stay with me now? I’m just going to tarnish your
reputation.”
“Yes, because my reputation is what I care about most in the world,” Harry said sarcastically,
rolling his eyes.
He shoved Draco back, reversing their positions. Propped up on his elbow, he stared down at
Draco. He ran his free hand through Draco’s hair, across his cheekbone, traced down his
neck.
He knew Draco would probably consider it an insult, but Harry loved how Draco was first
thing in the morning. His hair was tousled sexily. He was relaxed and not a sign of the airs he
tended to put on out in public. His expression was open, if rather vulnerable at the moment.
Harry appreciated that Draco was willing to be vulnerable in front of him. Showing perceived
weaknesses was not a dominate trait for the Malfoys. Draco was always so strong for him,
and Harry forgot sometimes that he needed to be strong for Draco as well.
“You, Draco Malfoy, are mine,” Harry declared. “I can supposedly have anyone I want, but
I’ve got lucky because I have you. Sexy, intelligent, charming, pain in the arse, you.”
Draco arched a brow, his lips twitching into that half-smile Harry loved. “Pain in the arse?”
Harry grinned. “You are and you know it,” he said. “It’s one of the things I love about you. I
can argue with you to my heart’s content and I don’t have to tip toe around you, watching
everything I say. You love me for the same reason,” he added smugly.
“Possibly,” Draco said, non-committal. “So, why else do you love me?”
It was Harry’s turn to arch a brow. What the hell had been in those Howlers? Harry was
generally the one plagued by bouts of insecurity, not Draco. Harry had grown up with the
Dursleys belittling him any chance they got. Draco had grown up loved and secure in who he
was. He’d lost a lot of his self-confidence for awhile, but he’d been gaining it back over the
course of the summer, or so Harry had thought.
“Well,” Harry said thoughtfully, tracing a random pattern over Draco’s chest. “You’ve got a
wicked tongue, to be admired for its many uses, both verbal and otherwise.”
Smirking, Draco took hold of Harry’s hand and licked the palm. “Do go on,” he drawled
before sucking Harry’s middle finger into his mouth.
Harry stared. Draco was only swirling his tongue around his finger, but it felt unexpectedly
brilliant.
“Um, you’re flexible,” Harry said absently.
Draco popped Harry’s finger out of his mouth, sniggering. “You love me because I’m
flexible?”
Harry focused on Draco’s eyes instead of his mouth and realized what he’d said. “I didn’t
mean it like that,” he retorted. “Although, come to think of it, you’re pretty flexible
physically as well.”
“What did you mean, then?” Draco asked. He obviously wanted to hear the answer because
he stopped teasing and laced their fingers together, resting their hands on his chest.
Harry shrugged. “You’ve had to be flexible to put up with all the shite I’ve put us through
this summer,” he said. “I know I’m not the easiest person to live with, and I’ve got a lot of
fucking issues, but you accept me anyway.”
Maybe tough Draco Malfoy actually needed to hear the sappy sentiments after all the
Howlers. Harry licked his lips nervously.
“Draco, I like the idea that you’re my personal hero,” he said. “I’m sure there are people who
are calling you a blood traitor and a coward,” he saw Draco’s slight flinch, his suspicions
confirmed on at least one part of the Howlers, “but to me, you’re brave and strong and I have
no idea if I would’ve survived this summer if I hadn’t had you to lean on when I needed it.”
“You’re the one who’s brave and strong,” Draco said flatly.
“So are you,” Harry insisted. “You have to be to put up with me.”
Draco smiled reluctantly.
“I’m not letting you go just because of some idiots who don’t know a thing about either one
of us,” Harry said. “So, you’re just going to have to stop listening to them.”
“I should bow down and listen to the wisdom of Harry Potter?” Draco asked, smirking.
“When I’m right, yes,” Harry declared, grinning.
“And when you’re wrong?” Draco questioned.
“Feel free to argue,” Harry said. His grin turned mischievous. “You can still bow down
before me, though. I like you on your knees.”
He let out an undignified squeal as Draco started tickling him. Draco was straddling his hips
and still tickling him when the door suddenly flew open. Tears of laughter streaming down
his cheeks, Harry looked at the newcomers.
Severus and Remus had burst into the room, Lucius and Narcissa right behind them.
“Harry’s awake,” Draco announced into the sudden silence.
“Er, good morning,” Harry said, trying not to laugh at the four adults who had obviously been
geared up for an emergency.
“Good morning, indeed,” Severus said dryly. “I gather you are feeling well this morning?”
“I feel fantastic,” Harry admitted.
“I believe I shall go summon Madam Pomfrey,” Narcissa said, her light laughter heard as she
slipped out of the room. Shaking his head, Lucius followed her.
“Get dressed and come downstairs,” Severus ordered, sweeping from the room.
Smiling broadly, Remus shut the door behind him on his way out.
Draco grinned down at Harry. “I think Severus will let me put the Silencing Charms back up
on our room now,” he said.
*****
Madam Pomfrey caught Harry and Draco on their way downstairs and ushered Harry into the
drawing room. Harry sat in resignation, allowing her to examine him.
“Any lingering pain?” she questioned.
“No, nothing,” Harry admitted. He smoothed his fingers over his forehead, recognizing how
literal that was. There was nothing on his forehead now. No scar, no connection.
“Good,” she said briskly. She obviously wasn’t taking his word for it, though, as she
continued to run her scans. She conducted a thorough examination, finally declaring that he
was healthy.
“You have lost a bit of weight,” she said. “The nutrient potions are not enough to sustain you
and you need to eat.”
“As soon as I’m allowed to go to breakfast, I promise to eat,” Harry said, smiling.
She offered him a small smile in return. “You may go,” she said in dismissal.
She followed him downstairs to the kitchen and updated the others on his health before
Flooing back to Hogwarts.
Harry ate hungrily, but he eyed the people at the table curiously. The adults and Victoria were
eating in the kitchen again, as most of the Slytherins were gone, but Blaise, Crabbe and
Goyle were still there. Severus gave him a warning glance and Harry clamped down on his
curiosity, at least as far as they were concerned.
“Are we really going to Hogwarts?” he asked. “All of us?”
All eyes shifted to Lucius, who grimaced in distaste.
“Professor Malfoy, instructor of Potions, at your service,” he drawled sardonically.
Food forgotten, Harry’s eyebrows rose. He’d not had a chance to process that it was true, let
alone figure out who would be teaching what. He remembered working on the potions in the
Dursley’s kitchen. Narcissa had said that she wasn’t as good at potions as Draco or his father.
Harry hadn’t put much thought into it, though, as Lucius hadn’t been around at the time.
When Harry remained silent, Lucius continued. “I am not a Potions Master like Severus, but I
do know the subject well enough to be able to teach it to others,” he explained. “Severus will
be proving the curse against the Defence post has been lifted and teaching those classes
again.”
“You’ll be able to teach more tactics now that you can be open, can’t you?” Harry said.
Severus nodded in acknowledgement.
Harry looked to Narcissa. “So, you’ll be teaching Transfigurations in McGonagall’s place?”
“I’m looking forward to the challenge,” Narcissa said.
Harry’s attention gravitated back to Lucius. “You know this wasn’t my idea, right?”
“Yet, you are pleased with the results anyway,” Lucius said knowingly.
“Well, yeah,” Harry admitted. “But not because they’re using it as punishment. I promised
Draco and Severus we’d get back to Hogwarts where we belong, one way or another. I
thought I’d have to fight the Board of Governors or something. I didn’t expect McGonagall
to suggest this.”
“Why am I not surprised to hear that you planned to fight the Board of Governors?” Severus
asked dryly.
“He just fought the Wizengamot council instead,” Blaise pointed out, smirking.
Harry shrugged. “Worked, didn’t it? Everyone’s here eating breakfast instead of sitting in
Azkaban.” His eyes drifted to Lucius again.
“I have no cause for complaint,” Lucius admitted.
“I believe Headmistress McGonagall should be commended for her solution,” Narcissa said.
“It does address many of our concerns for the next year, as well as gives her more time to
find other, perhaps more suitable, professors.”
“So, you’ll have family quarters or something?” Harry asked. “Victoria will be able to live
with you, right? She’ll be close?”
“Yes, Victoria will stay in our quarters,” Narcissa agreed. “As will you and Draco.”
Harry darted a glance at Draco, who nodded, looking smug.
“McGonagall suggested that it would be beneficial if you lived with us to watch over us,” he
drawled, rolling his eyes.
“She is rewarding her Golden Boy,” Severus said dryly.
“That, too,” Draco agreed, still looking extremely smug.
“We won’t have to stay in the dorms?” Harry asked, needing it clarified. “We’ll still be able
to share a room?”
“Your special treatment is going to work in my favour this year,” Draco said.
Harry bit at his lip. “Maybe I should stay in the dorms,” he said reluctantly.
“What? No!” Draco exclaimed. “I’m not going to sleep apart from you when I don’t have to.
Last week was hard enough.”
Harry hadn’t thought about the fact that Draco had been forced to sleep alone in the holding
cell for five nights while he’d been unconscious in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. He didn’t
want to sleep apart from Draco, but he didn’t really want to be seen as getting even more
special treatment than he already was.
“Harry, yes, it could be construed as special treatment, but it is deserved,” Severus said. “As
well, it does serve the purpose that McGonagall has mentioned. It will ease the minds of the
council, and many of the parents, if you remain within close proximity of the Malfoys.”
“This is a period of adjustment for us,” Narcissa said. “It will take time for us to be accepted
into the Wizarding community again. This truly is an opportunity, not a punishment, that
Headmistress McGonagall has offered the Malfoys.”
“I personally believe that Minerva spent far too many years under Albus’ influence,” Severus
said conversationally.
“It does sound like something he would’ve done, doesn’t it?” Harry agreed, smiling.
“I would not doubt that Minerva was conspiring with his portrait before the trial last week,”
Severus said dryly.
“So, we’re agreed?” Draco asked, bringing the conversation back to the point he was most
concerned with. “We’re not sleeping in the dorms?”
“I’d rather be with you,” Harry admitted. “I just feel like I’m pushing my luck, getting
special treatment again. The other students and some of the professors,” he said, giving
Severus a pointed look, “tend to frown on me getting special treatment.”
“Oh, bloody hell!” he exclaimed suddenly as a thought struck him. He dropped his face into
his hands, slumping dejectedly.
“What is it, Harry?” Remus voiced their concern.
“The Gryffindors are going to hate me again,” Harry said miserably. “I’m bringing Snape
back and two more evil Slytherin professors. I can just picture all the points we’ll be losing.”
The sniggering was not reassuring.
“This is why I hate special treatment,” Harry said sullenly, lifting his head to glare at them. “I
never ask for it, and it always gets me into more trouble than it’s worth.”
“Are you saying I’m not worth it?” Draco asked, brow raised.
“That’s not fair,” Harry said. “Yes, you’re worth it, but it doesn’t mean I have to like being a
pariah in my own House again.”
“Harry, you’re the bloody Saviour of the Wizarding world,” Draco said in exasperation.
“You’re not going to be cast out by the Gryffindors.”
“It’s happened for less,” Harry pointed out.
“I thought you didn’t care what everyone else thinks,” Draco said, changing tactics.
Harry sighed. “I reckon it doesn’t really matter,” he admitted. “At least I won’t be living with
them this time. It’s just that it’s going to be drawing more attention to me. I’ll be standing out
again. I’ve never had a year where I was just a regular student along with everyone else.”
“You’ve really never had it easy, have you?” Draco said.
Harry shook his head. For all that things were going his way, it was going to be another
difficult year.
He eyed Draco. “It’ll be a better year for you,” he said.
“It’ll definitely be better for me this year,” Draco muttered. “Even if the entire school is
against me, it’ll be better.”
Staring at Draco, Harry felt like a selfish bastard. He wanted to apologize, but Draco glared at
him in warning, so he kept his mouth shut. Draco had every reason to be more insecure than
normal. It wasn’t just their relationship, it was everything. Draco had left Hogwarts under
horrid circumstances. It wasn’t going to be an easy adjustment to be accepted at the school
again.
Harry felt horrid for complaining. If it took throwing around his bloody Saviour status to
make things easier for Draco, then that’s what he’d do. It didn’t much matter in the long run
if it brought more unwanted attention to himself. He’d survived it all these years; he could
get through another year.
But he was beginning to understand the enormity of how much things had changed.
*****
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Notes

Chapter Fifty-Four
Harry sat on the floor between Draco’s legs, watching Victoria play with Lissa. As no one
else trusted the snakes, unable to speak with them, Victoria hadn’t been allowed to play with
Lissa for over a week. She was giggling and obviously happy to have her play partner back.
Harry was simply happy to relax. He tilted his head back to look at Draco, sitting in the chair
behind him.
“What are you doing?” he asked curiously.
“Talking to Granger,” Draco answered absently, his attention focused on his bracelet.
Harry’s eyebrows rose, but Draco didn’t even notice his surprise. Harry shot Blaise a
questioning look.
Blaise was lounging comfortably in one of the other chairs in the drawing room. He was
clearly amused, but shrugged to indicate that he had no idea what Draco was doing.
Harry glanced at Crabbe and Goyle, quietly playing a game of chess on the other side of the
room. They certainly wouldn’t have any idea why Draco was talking to Hermione.
“They’re here because they have nowhere else to go,” Blaise said quietly.
It took Harry a moment to switch thought processes. “Nowhere safe,” he said in realization.
“They went against their families,” Blaise agreed.
Harry looked at Blaise sharply. “Why are you here?”
“I’m just visiting,” Blaise assured. “My mum is safe. I went home to see her, but came back
here to help.”
“Help with what?” Harry asked curiously. He didn’t have a clue as to what had been
happening while he’d been out of it the week before.
Blaise smiled ruefully. “I’ve been helping Lupin,” he admitted.
Harry’s brows raised in surprise.
“With you in the hospital wing, the others at the Ministry, all the Slytherins here . . . Lupin
was running himself into the ground trying to be everywhere at once,” Blaise explained.
“Reporters, officials, owls. It was a crazy week.”
“Oh,” Harry said, feeling suddenly guilty, not that there was anything he could’ve done.
“I helped Lupin get everyone back home again, helping to explain everything to their
families,” Blaise continued. “We also packed up Victoria and sent her to the Weasleys.”
“Been over there yourself a lot?” Harry asked dryly.
Blaise smirked. “Yes, Ginny and I are together,” he admitted. “But no, I haven’t really been
there much. I’ve spent some time there, though, as Draco insisted I report on how they were
treating Victoria,” he added, rolling his eyes.
Harry shook his head in exasperation, not surprised. Remus had said it was Narcissa’s idea
for Victoria to spend time at the Weasleys, not Draco’s.
“I’ve spent more time here with Crabbe and Goyle, sorting through all the in-coming post,”
Blaise said. He gave Harry a sly look. “You’ve had some interesting marriage proposals,
amongst other things.”
Harry grinned as Draco’s fingers carded through his hair. He was obviously at least half-
listening.
“I’ve already burned them,” Draco drawled.
Schooling his features, Harry tilted his head back, looking at Draco upside-down. “What if I
wanted to read them?” he asked innocently.
Draco’s legs suddenly locked around his chest, trapping him. “You go about reading marriage
proposals and I’ll feed you to your snakes,” Draco threatened.
Harry started laughing. “Draco, you are sorely out of practice with your threats.”
Draco scowled at him. “It was easier when I actually wanted to hurt you. All my usual threats
don’t work anymore and if I try to punish you, I’ll only be punishing myself.”
“Aww, poor Draco,” Harry said sympathetically.
“See if I invite your friends over here again,” Draco muttered.
Harry blinked in astonishment, twisting to his knees so he could face Draco. “That’s why you
were talking to Hermione?”
“Yes, and letting her know that you’re finally awake,” Draco said dryly.
Harry winced. He hadn’t even thought to contact his friends yet. He’d only been awake for a
couple of hours, but didn’t think Hermione would accept that as a good excuse.
“I don’t reckon she’s very happy with me, is she?” he said.
“Not particularly, no,” Draco drawled. “Your bad habits are making me look better, though.”
Harry stared at him, not quite sure what to make of that. “That’s a good thing?” he asked.
“It is for you,” Draco said pointedly. “I don’t personally care to be in Granger’s good graces.”
Harry moved so that he was straddling Draco’s lap and rewarding him with a very pleasant
snog.
“Harry!”
Startled at Hermione’s happy shout, Harry pulled back, causing Draco to groan in frustration.
“Do you two ever stop?” Ginny asked curiously, propping herself on the edge of Blaise’s
chair.
“We’d just started,” Draco said irritably. “I didn’t expect you to show up instantaneously.”
“That’s the wonder of magic,” Ginny pointed out cheerfully as Blaise pulled her down onto
his lap.
“How did you get here?” Harry asked.
“Through the Floo, of course,” Ginny answered.
Harry scowled at her. “I didn’t mean that,” he said. “Who let you in here?”
“Over the weekend, Lupin had already talked Snape into allowing them past the wards,”
Blaise said.
“We were just waiting for you to wake up,” Hermione said. “Lupin was in the kitchen when
we Flooed in and directed us up here.”
“Oh,” Harry said. “Well, I’m glad you’ve come.”

He was watching Ron. His poor friend didn’t seem to know where to look. He’d cast a
resigned glance at Harry and Draco. An irritated scowl at Ginny and Blaise – there’d clearly
been some conflict regarding that relationship over the last week. A bewildered, but
somewhat horrified, glance at Crabbe and Goyle playing chess. A surprised glance at the
blank wall where the Black Family Tree had been. A nervous look at Lissa, still playing with
Victoria. His eyes continued to dart about the room, taking in all the changes from when he’d
last seen it.
Hermione sat down in one of the chairs, also taking in her surroundings, but dismissing them
quickly.
“Harry, how are you feeling?” she asked. “You’re looking so much better.”
“I feel great,” Harry said, grinning. He pecked Draco on the mouth before sliding back to sit
on the floor at his feet. Staying on Draco’s lap was not the best idea with the company they
had in the room.
“Are you sure we’re in Grimmauld Place?” Ron blurted out.
“What kind of stupid question is that?” Draco retorted.
“You wouldn’t think it a stupid question if you’d seen this place before,” Harry said.
Ron joined Harry on the floor, sitting by Hermione. “I reckon the size and number of rooms
is the same,” he said. “But that’s about the only similarity I’m seeing.”
“Was it really that different?” Blaise questioned dubiously.
“Yes,” Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny answered in unison.
Harry caught Crabbe and Goyle’s startled gazes and motioned for them to join the rest of
them, much to the surprise of everyone else. He didn’t feel right, though, leaving them out.
They pulled up their own chairs, finishing off the circle.
“Lissa, bring Victoria back over here,” Harry hissed.
“Yes, Master.”
He watched the currently lime green snake slither in a circle around Victoria before weaving
towards Harry. The drawing room wasn’t quite as Victoria-proof as the nursery. Ron abruptly
stood, grabbing another chair. Harry simply smirked at him before returning his attention to
snake and baby.
“Keep her within this area,” he hissed. “I can’t keep an eye on her if you’re behind
everyone.”
“Well, isn’t this cosy,” Draco said, sounding mildly disgusted.
Harry decided not to point out that he was feeling quite comfortable, especially considering
the fact that Draco was carding his fingers through his hair and gently massaging his scalp.
Most likely he didn’t even realize he was doing it, but it was definitely helping Harry relax in
the admittedly odd grouping in which they suddenly found themselves.
Hermione cleared her throat. “The house really does look different,” she said, getting back to
their earlier conversation.
Ron snorted. “Yeah, no house-elf heads, no troll’s legs, no Mrs. Black,” he added pointedly.
Ron, Hermione and Ginny’s eyes automatically went to the blank wall where the tapestry had
been, as it fit the same category.
“How did you get them down?” Hermione asked. “We’d tried everything.”
“I, uh, killed them,” Harry reluctantly admitted.
“You killed them?” Ginny asked, as if she’d misheard him.
“Um, yeah,” Harry said. He explained to them what had happened with the portrait,
Hermione looking more horrified by the second.
“So, you did the same with the tapestry?” Ron asked, his face twisted.
Harry glanced back at Draco.
“Malfoy did it?”
“No, I did it,” Harry said. “But I did it with Draco’s wand.”
“That’s how you knew you could use his wand against Voldemort,” Hermione said in
realization, but she still looked disturbed.
“Yes,” Harry said quietly.
“What’s the deal with the rest of the house?” Ginny asked, steering the topic away before
Hermione could say any more about it. “It’s bloody comfortable here now.”
“I understand better why you’ve been calling it home,” Hermione admitted.
Harry shrugged. “Winky did most of it, and a lot of it was purchased new. Ironically, I think
some of this furniture is Narcissa’s. A different branch of the Black family, but she’s brought
some of the heirlooms into the house.”
“I didn’t think you’d noticed,” Draco said in surprise.
“I haven’t paid that much attention,” Harry admitted. “But I know some of this stuff wasn’t
here before. These tables aren’t the same ones that started in here and the new cutlery with
the Black family crest was kind of hard to miss. Knowing your mum, I just assumed it was
one of those tradition things.”
Draco sniggered. “Probably,” he agreed.

“Are you and your parents moving back into Malfoy Manor now?” Hermione asked Draco.
Harry blinked, turning sideways to look at Draco. “You can now, can’t you?” he said in
realization.
“Not yet,” Draco said bitterly. “The Manor has been in use by the Dark Lord and his
followers over the last year. The Ministry has to conduct all of their investigations first before
we’re allowed to go back.”
Harry stared at him, unsure if Draco was upset with Voldemort, the Ministry or both. Was
Draco anxious to move back to his home? Harry had forgotten that this entire arrangement at
Grimmauld Place was temporary. Severus had said he had a home as well. Remus had also
been living somewhere else before the summer.
Draco ranted about the Ministry and Voldemort and Harry thought about how much the
Manor meant to Draco. Harry had just gained Grimmauld Place as a home. The Manor had
always been home to Draco. Harry didn’t particularly want to live there after they left school,
but he could definitely respect that Draco would want to.
“Kingsley will do his best to make sure it gets sorted out as quickly as possible,” he said,
when Draco paused in his rant. “I’m sorry it won’t get sorted out before we go to Hogwarts,
but I reckon we’ll be able to spend the holidays there.”
“Could you sound any more enthusiastic about it?” Draco asked sarcastically.
“Sorry, no, it sounds great,” Harry said, trying to inject some excitement into his voice. “I’m
curious to learn more about your home. Seeing where you’ve grown up. It’s not like I had
much of an opportunity to look around the last time I was there.”
“Urgh, you really want to move into Malfoy Manor with this git?” Ron asked.
“It’s Draco’s home, Ron,” Harry said, his eyes flashing a warning at Ron. “I’ve not
technically been invited yet, but I don’t have a problem with living there.”
He didn’t feel like dealing with the name-calling that could potentially turn vicious quickly
when it involved Draco and Ron. There was also no telling how Draco would react to
anything detrimental being said about the Manor.
Ron ignored the warning, or didn’t notice. “But I thought you’ve said this was your home? Its
loads better than it was before and I thought you wanted to live here now.”
Draco’s fingers had stilled their soothing motions and Harry could feel the tension radiating
from him.
“Uh, this is nice,” Harry said, feeling trapped between Ron and Draco. He knew it had just
struck Draco that Harry wasn’t as thrilled as he was at the idea of eventually moving into the
Manor and Harry didn’t want it to come between them. But he didn’t want to outright lie to
Ron, either, who obviously understood how much gaining a home meant to Harry.
“It’s not like its really home, though,” he continued. “I’ve only lived here . . . well, actually,
it’s only been about a month or so. This was just the safest place over the summer. We can
live anywhere we want now.”
“And you’re choosing Malfoy Manor?” Ron asked in disbelief. “Where You Know Who was
living?”
“Ron,” Hermione hissed, elbowing her boyfriend sharply to get his attention. “Stop it.”
“Stop what?” Ron asked. “I was only asking why Harry didn’t want to live here now.”
Hermione was gazing at Harry with understanding and sympathy. Ginny was glaring at Ron.
Blaise’s expression was carefully blank, but his eyes were on Draco. Crabbe and Goyle, well,
Harry wasn’t sure there was anything careful about their blank expressions. They appeared to
about as clueless as Ron as to the fight that was brewing between Harry and Draco. The fight
Harry was trying desperately to avoid. He was afraid to look back at Draco.
When the silence became too much to bear, he tilted his head, looking up at Draco through
his fringe. Draco was rigid, his jaw clenched.
“Draco, I really don’t mind if we live at Malfoy Manor,” Harry said.
“But I’m considered a selfish prick for wanting to live there,” Draco said through gritted
teeth.
“The Manor’s always been home to you and it’s not selfish to want to go back and reclaim
it,” he continued. “It’s not selfish to want to give Victoria her heritage.”
“And what do you get out of it, Harry?” Draco asked.
“Why is this home, Draco?” Harry demanded. “Because you’re here. And Victoria. Because
Severus and Remus are here. But they’ll be gone. And your parents will be back at the
Manor.”
“For someone who has everything, you lose out a lot,” Draco muttered.
Harry blew the fringe out of his eyes. What the hell was he supposed to say? He’d only just
got a family and a home. He would miss having all of them together. Surprising as it was, he
would actually miss Grimmauld Place itself. It would be wonderful if they could all continue
living there, but it wasn’t practical.
“If I get to come with you, then I haven’t lost,” he finally said.
“I don’t want you resenting me for forcing you to live at the Manor instead of here,” Draco
said, glaring at him.
“You two don’t have to decide on anything now,” Hermione interjected quietly.
“Dad has said that they won’t have the Manor cleared before the new term starts at
Hogwarts,” Ginny added. “You’ve got months to decide where to spend the Christmas
holidays. And where to live once you’ve left school.”
“They’re still trying to deal with the Death Eater trials and the clean up after the battle,”
Hermione said. “It’s going to take time.”
Harry latched onto the change of subject. “Tell me about the battle,” he said. “I know
everyone was able to successfully drive the Dementors away, as I could see and feel that, but
I don’t know much else.”
“I don’t know precisely what he has planned, but you should be happy to know that
Shacklebolt intends to finally do something about the Dementors,” Hermione said. “We’ve
got a Minister that will actually follow Dumbledore’s advice.”
“Good,” Harry said, satisfied. “Were any of you hurt? I know Severus was, but he seems to
be all right now.”
“Blaise and I managed to stay hidden with Fred and George the entire time,” Ginny said. “It
was terrifying at first, just waiting, but then we were so busy that we didn’t have time to see
much of anything.”
“Ron got hurt,” Hermione said.
Ron blushed a bright red. “We don’t have to talk about it,” he muttered.
“What happened?” Harry asked.
“He stepped in front of a curse that was aimed at me,” Hermione said, gazing at Ron proudly.
Harry glanced curiously between the two. Something was off with their reactions. Ginny
made a noise and Harry looked over at her and Blaise to find them both attempting to
suppress laughter.
“Ron?”
“It was nothing,” Ron said.
“It was too something,” Hermione said indignantly. “You protected me.”
“He did get hit by a pretty nasty cutting curse,” Ginny said. “But the worst of his injuries was
when he fell and managed to knock himself out when he hit his head on a rock.”
“It’s not funny,” Hermione snapped.
“It wasn’t at the time,” Ginny agreed. “But now, most of us are wondering how closely Ron
is related to Tonks.”
Harry allowed himself to grin when Ron smiled sheepishly. “At least I didn’t get attacked by
any brains this time,” he said.
“I thought you did splendidly,” Hermione said, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek.
“Good thing Hermione had you looking out for her, Ron,” Harry said.
Ron managed to look both embarrassed and incredibly pleased. Harry was beginning to
realize that what Ginny and Blaise found so amusing was Hermione’s gushing and Ron’s
reaction to it. Harry wasn’t happy to hear that Ron had been injured, but he was happy to see
his best friends becoming even closer because of it. Ron was Hermione’s hero.
Harry glanced up at his own hero, only to see him still sulking. He sighed, deciding it was
best to leave Draco alone for the time being.
“What about you two?” he asked Crabbe and Goyle. “You do all right?”
They shrugged and nodded. “Daphne cast the Patronus,” Crabbe said.
“We brought down a couple of the Death Eaters,” Goyle said proudly.
Blaise snorted. “Yeah, they didn’t bother using their wands,” he said. “A couple of the Death
Eaters tried to make a break for it and Crabbe and Goyle simply tackled them, knocking them
out.”
“Uh, why didn’t you use your wands?” Harry asked, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer.
Crabbe shrugged again. “It was easier to fight them without a wand,” he said. “They were
running directly past the trees where we were hiding and we just jumped them as they went
to run past.”
Harry opened his mouth to say that it would’ve been easier to stun the Death Eaters in that
case, but maybe for them it was easier the way they’d done it. Whatever worked. “Good for
you,” he said.
He received wide grins for the praise. He smiled in return. The two hulking Slytherins were
growing on him. They weren’t so bad when they weren’t trying to beat him up.
“So, what happened with everyone else?” he asked.
“Tonks was the one Polyjuiced as Pansy,” Ginny said. “Don’t know how she manages it, but
she did great during the battle. Afterwards, though, she kept tripping over the Death Eaters
lying around.”
“Most everyone received injuries of some kind,” Hermione said. “There was some fierce
fighting going on. We’re really lucky that no one died. Not on our side, at any rate.”
“Were there Death Eaters killed?” Harry asked, mildly surprised.
The others exchanged glances. “Greyback was the only one outright killed,” Ron said.
“Did Remus kill him?”
Ron shook his head.

Harry’s eyes widened. “Bill killed him, then?”
“No,” Ron answered, tilting his head curiously. “Did you see them fighting or something?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t exactly have time to stand around and watch,” Harry said. “Remus and
Bill were the ones fighting him, though, and they both had motivation to kill him.”
Hermione was looking a little ill. “I can’t believe you can talk so calmly about killing
people,” she said.
“Greyback deserved to die,” Draco said harshly.
Harry glanced up at him sharply. “Did he do something to you?” he demanded.
“To me personally?” Draco asked rhetorically. “No, he didn’t. But he was evil. He was the
type of person people think of when they think of the Death Eaters. Vicious, cruel, no mercy.
The Dark Lord admired his lack of heart,” he added bitterly.
“And you let him into Hogwarts,” Ron muttered.
Draco ground his teeth together. “I didn’t know he would be there,” he said. “I made some
stupid mistakes, but even I wasn’t stupid enough to knowingly allow Greyback into
Hogwarts. I’m happy he’s dead.”
“Who killed him?” Harry asked quickly. He wanted to know, but he also wanted the
conversation turned from this topic before things escalated any further.
“Snape killed him,” Hermione answered, shuddering. “He was more furious than I’ve ever
seen him.”
Harry exchanged glances with Draco. They could guess what Snape had looked like.
“He was furious that Voldemort had trapped you,” she continued. “He . . . well, I’m not sure
how it happened exactly, but he obviously spotted Bill and Lupin duelling with Greyback and
some other Death Eater who had joined the fight. He couldn’t kill Voldemort for you, but he
could kill Greyback for Lupin.”
“It was terrifying, mate,” Ron said.
“I’m sure it was,” Harry agreed absently, picturing the events on the tower and interposing it
with what they were describing from the final battle.
The room was quiet for a minute before Hermione spoke up again.
“There were a few who died from injuries,” she said. “When you killed Voldemort, all of the
Death Eaters went down. The screaming was horrifying, with so many people in pain, but it
didn’t last long as they all fell unconscious.”
Harry remembered that part all too clearly. “I didn’t know that was going to happen,” he said.
Hermione’s gaze was sympathetic. “I know you didn’t,” she said. “It was unexpected for all
of us. No one knew what was happening at first. We were fighting. Then all the Death Eaters
collapsed. And then . . . it was creepy because there was this silence.”
“For several seconds,” Ginny agreed. “It was so strange. I was looking around at everything,
but nothing was making sense. I couldn’t see you, or Voldemort. I didn’t know if it was safe
to take the cloak off.”
“Then Lupin shouted your name,” Hermione said. “I couldn’t see you at first, but he’d
spotted you. You were hidden under Draco. Under the cloak.”
“Draco saved my life,” Harry said softly. “And I reckon Fred and George saved Draco.
Without the cloak, I’m not sure either of us would’ve survived. I was focused on killing
Voldemort, but he’d tried killing me at the same time. I saw the flash of the Killing Curse
coming at me, but Draco shoved me out of the way and . . . I don’t remember much after that.
But I’m here and Draco’s here, so the cloak must’ve blocked the curse.”
Draco’s fingers were gently rubbing the nape of his neck. Harry glanced up at him.
“It doesn’t much matter where we live, does it?” Draco said. “We’re both alive and that’s
what matters.”
“If we can survive Voldemort, surely we can sort out where we’re going to live,” Harry
agreed.
“No one was sure at first if you had survived or not,” Hermione said, swallowing heavily.
“Shacklebolt shouted out that Voldemort was dead, but we didn’t know what had happened to
you two. And all the Death Eaters. I thought you were dead, Harry,” she said, her eyes bright.
“But I’m not,” Harry said. “It’s all right, Hermione.”
Hermione sniffed and nodded. Ginny picked up the story.
“Blaise and Fred were close and got to you about the same time as Lupin,” she said. “I swear
Fred and George have some form of tracking spell on that cloak because George seemed to
know exactly where to go. Either that, or he’s just more tuned in to Fred than I’ve realized.
He grabbed my hand and we ran. He seemed to know exactly where you were in all the
chaos.”
“By the time we got there, Lupin was trying to revive you and Blaise and Fred were trying to
revive Draco,” she continued. Her voice was unsteady. “You were both so pale and you
weren’t moving. Lupin said you were alive – he checked you both – but nothing he was
doing was reviving either of you.”
She paused and Blaise took up the telling. “Lupin had Ginny and I take you to Hogwarts
through the Vanishing Cabinet,” he said. “We took you straight to Madam Pomfrey. I don’t
know how long it was, but eventually she said the two of you were stable. Lupin and the
twins showed up with Snape, Lucius and Narcissa not long after we did and she took care of
them as well.”
“Ron and Neville and I were close to Narcissa,” Hermione said. “But Ron wasn’t doing so
well and Neville didn’t know what was wrong with her. I knew she was alive, but then
George showed up and said you’d already been taken to Hogwarts. He took Narcissa and
Neville helped me get Ron.”
“Neville was doing all right, but I wasn’t feeling very steady,” she admitted. “I barely even
remember getting back to Hogwarts.”
She took a deep breath to steady herself. “Because it was chaos,” she said. “Suddenly it was
over, but there were so many injured to attend to. And no one knew why the Death Eaters had
collapsed in the first place, so no one knew if they would be waking up again at any moment.
I think that’s why those that were injured more severely ended up dying. They weren’t a
threat and the Aurors were scrambling to bind all of them. The Order and everyone else was
attempting to heal our own that had been hurt.”
“Everyone did their best, Hermione,” Ron said.
“I know, but –”
“It’s not your fault my father fought for the wrong side,” Goyle spoke up quietly.
Harry whipped his head around to stare at him. He darted a glance at Blaise. Why the hell
hadn’t Blaise told him Goyle’s father had been killed in the battle? Why hadn’t anyone told
him? He glanced at Hermione, who looked horrified. She’d obviously not known, either. The
news had clearly been kept quiet, at least so far. It certainly wouldn’t be kept quiet forever,
but Blaise had allowed Goyle to choose whether or not to tell them.
Harry knew Crabbe’s father had been involved at the Department of Mysteries at the end of
fifth year and was currently in Azkaban. Harry associated the younger Crabbe and Goyle as
one unit and somehow had forgotten that Goyle’s father would be fighting. And he was now
dead.
“I’m sorry,” Harry said.
“It’s not your fault, either,” Goyle said, shrugging uncomfortably. “I kind of guessed he’d end
up dead at some point. That’s why it didn’t make any sense to follow him.”
“But he was your father,” Harry blurted out, wishing he could take the words back the instant
they were out of his mouth.
“Not all families are as close as the Malfoys – or the Weasleys,” Blaise said. “I’ve had seven
fathers and can’t say that I particularly miss any of them.”
“That’s true?” Ron asked. “Your mum’s been married seven times?”
Blaise simply nodded.
“There’s something creepy about that, you know,” Ginny said, leaning back to eye her
boyfriend.
Blaise shrugged, noncommittal.
“I told you he’s bad for you,” Ron snapped.
Harry leaned back, staying out of it as Ron and Ginny argued. He was inclined to agree with
Ron about Blaise’s mum, as he’d heard the rumours as well. But Blaise wasn’t his mum.
Goyle seemed to appreciate that attention was diverted from himself and Harry had to
wonder if that had been Blaise’s intention. Odd as it was, everyone was comfortable with the
usual bickering. Harry had the feeling no one else knew what to say to Goyle any more than
he did and moving on was probably the kindest thing they could do.
“Harry, how can you agree with this?” Ron asked, gesturing wildly to Ginny and Blaise. “I
thought you liked Ginny, but then you just . . .” He spluttered. “You just give her to Zabini!”
Even when he tried to stay out of things, he was inexorably pulled back in. And he had no
idea how to answer this one without getting himself in trouble. With everyone staring at him
expectantly, though, he had to say something.
“I didn’t give her to Zabini,” he said.
“Close enough,” Ron retorted. “You set them up.”
Unfortunately, Harry couldn’t argue with that point. He and Draco had schemed to hook them
up, but he hadn’t realized that Ron knew about it.
“Look, yes, I like Ginny,” he admitted. “So I want to see her happy. I think she and Zabini
make a nice couple and they’re the ones that actually decided to go together. It’s not like I
forced them or anything.”
“But you don’t even know Zabini,” Ron protested. “How can you know if he’ll treat her
right?”
“You’re right, I don’t know him that well,” Harry agreed. Ron looked triumphant. “But Draco
knows him, and I trust Draco.” Ron’s face fell.
Harry felt odd talking about them as if he they weren’t there, but he continued regardless.
“Besides, I’ve got to know him a little and I like him,” he said.
“You trust him?” Ron demanded.
“Well enough,” Harry said, shrugging. “I certainly trust Ginny to make her own decisions.
She’s a smart girl. She knows what she’s doing.”
“She’s going with a Slytherin!” Ron exclaimed.
Harry arched a brow and Ron’s shoulders slumped.
“Yeah, I know,” he said. “So are you. I think you’re both mental.”
“Nah, we’ve just got a rather wild sense of adventure,” Harry said, smirking.
“Better you than me,” Ron muttered. “I’ll stick with Hermione.”
“I don’t think I like the way you said that,” Hermione said.
Ron’s eyes widened. “I didn’t mean anything by it,” he defended. “I just meant that you’re
better than them.”
“Granger’s better than Draco and I?” Blaise asked.
“Yes,” Ron answered. He glanced at Ginny, then Harry. “Erm, no,” he said. “Bloody hell! I’m
not going to win this one.”
Ron had backed himself into a corner. Hermione still looked a little offended, but even she
laughed, shaking her head at him.
“What am I going to do with you?” she asked, fondly amused. Ron offered her a sheepish
smile and she rewarded him with a brief kiss.
The group continued to talk, although it persisted in being a rather rough conversation.
Between difficult subjects and horrid past histories, it wasn’t easy. Harry was relieved to
transfer some of his attention to Victoria when she was ready for a morning nap. He got her
changed and fed, ignoring Hermione’s look of resignation as he asked Winky to bring him the
things he needed. He didn’t need to move from his spot in front of Draco.
“Go see Draco,” Harry hissed to Lissa as he settled Victoria on his chest. “You will be more
comfortable with him. But don’t forget to turn yourself silver,” he added.
“I still do not understand his fear of yellow,” Lissa hissed in return, but she obediently
changed colour as she slithered up Draco’s leg.
Harry sniggered. “He’s not afraid of yellow, he just doesn’t like it. He likes you, though,” he
reassured.
“Master’s mate is very strange, but does bear good young,” Lissa said.
Harry let out a burst of laughter, startling poor Victoria. He shushed her, rubbing her back
soothingly and she quieted down again almost immediately.
“Is your bloody snake insulting me again?” Draco asked.
“Erm, no?” Harry said, turning it into a question.
“Harry,” Draco warned.
Harry grinned. “She thinks you’re scared of the colour yellow and she thinks you bear good
young,” he said.
The others slammed hands over their mouths to smother their laughter and not disturb
Victoria again. Harry was positive Draco was glaring at the back of his head.
“I’m not scared of yellow,” Draco said haughtily.
“I told her that,” Harry admitted. “I don’t think she believes me, though. You’re always nicer
to her when she’s silver.”
“I am not,” Draco protested, but he sounded doubtful of his own words.
Harry shifted slightly so he could rest his head against Draco’s leg. “I’m afraid you are,
Draco,” he said.
“You really don’t like Hufflepuffs at all, do you?” Ron asked Draco, sounding rather curious.
“They’re not all bad,” Draco said, his voice still conveying doubt. “I supported Diggory
during the Triwizard Tournament, didn’t I? He was a Hufflepuff.”
“He was also competing against Harry,” Hermione said dryly. “Likely you would’ve
supported Ron before supporting Harry.”
Draco made a strangled sort of noise that made Harry wish he could see Draco’s face, but he
didn’t want to bother Victoria. He probably should’ve asked Winky to lay her down in the
nursery, but he couldn’t bring himself to let her go.
“Bloody hell,” Ron said, wide-eyed. “You would have supported me before Harry.”
“Well, he was Potter,” Draco snapped. “What do you expect?”
“Um, he’s still Potter,” Ginny pointed out helpfully, sporting a wide, cheeky grin.
“Yes, but he’s not a scrawny kid like he was then,” Draco said, ignoring all the other factors
involved and focusing on the physical aspect. “Diggory, on the other hand, now he was hot.”
Harry felt his jaw drop, surely his expression matching those of his friends. Blaise, however,
didn’t look the least bit surprised. His smirk was probably matched by one on Draco’s face.
Ginny recovered quickly. “He was rather hot,” she agreed. “Not exactly your type, though,
was he?”
“You know, Weaselette,” Draco drawled conversationally, “I find it extremely disturbing that
we have the same tastes in men.”
“You weren’t with Zabini, were you?” Ron asked, horrified. “That would just be wrong.”
“We haven’t been together, but I’m curious, why would it be wrong?” Blaise asked.
“Because Harry’s already been with Ginny . . . but then if you’d just switched partners . . .
and then you’re the opposite sex . . . or the same sex . . . and Ginny’s already got something
in common with Malfoy . . . for them to share you as well . . . it’d just be wrong,” Ron
finished, crossing his arms over his chest and looking confused.
“We’re not sharing Harry,” Draco said. “He’s mine. Why do you think I gave the Weaselette
to Blaise?”
Hermione got Ginny’s attention. “When he gets possessive of Harry, you tend not to notice
the name calling, don’t you?” she said. “It’s somehow rather sweet.”
Grinning, Ginny nodded her agreement. Harry could only imagine the look of horror that
must be on Draco’s face now.
“Malfoy’s sweet when he’s calling people names?!” Ron exclaimed.
“Well, when he’s talking to Ginny,” Hermione clarified. “With her, it’s a warning to stay
away from Harry. When he calls you names, it’s simply insults.”
“Of course,” Ron said, looking no less confused.
“Don’t trouble yourself trying to figure it out, Ron,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes.
Harry ducked his head in an attempt to hide his grin. Draco’s fingers were once again carding
through his hair and Blaise had snuggled Ginny closer. He knew he was happy where he was
at and Ginny looked to be perfectly content as well. A little bit of possessiveness wasn’t a
bad thing.
He was rather relieved to see that Blaise hadn’t taken the conversation the wrong way. Draco
had accepted Harry and Ginny’s past and Blaise appeared to have accepted it, too. If either
Draco or Blaise had been the jealous type, like Ron, then there would’ve been a lot more
trouble.
“Harry,” Hermione spoke his name hesitantly.
“What?” he asked, lifting his head to look at her warily. That tone of voice usually didn’t
bode well for whatever conversation followed.
“I was hoping Ron and I could talk to you,” she said. “Privately.”
“I’m comfortable,” he protested. “Victoria’s sleeping.”
“I know,” she said. “But it’s important.”
Harry frowned at her, wondering what she wanted to talk about. Her expression indicated that
it was serious.
“Yeah, sure,” he said. “Just give me a minute.”
“I’ll take Victoria,” Draco said.

Harry carefully shifted her into Draco’s arms, then moved over to the other side of the
drawing room with Ron and Hermione. He made sure to cast a Severus-proof Silencing
Charm before they spoke.
“So, what’d you want to talk about?” he asked.
*****
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Notes

Chapter Fifty-Five
Hermione and Ron exchanged glances, both of them suddenly looking extremely tense.
“What’s up?” Harry asked warily.
“You’ve not told anyone about the Horcruxes, right?” Hermione asked.
“I’ve told you I haven’t,” Harry said.
“But they obviously know something about them,” Ron said quickly. “Fred, George, Ginny,
and Lupin were with us when we retrieved the cup. You’ve said Malfoy was there as well.
And Lucius Malfoy retrieved the locket.”
“They’ve known I was retrieving relics of Voldemort’s, but they’ve no idea that they were
Horcruxes,” Harry said. “Severus told me to keep it secret.”
“Severus,” Ron muttered. “Not sure I’ll ever get used to hearing you call him that.”
Hermione shot a glare at Ron. “That’s not important right now,” she said. “Harry, how could
Snape tell you to keep it a secret if he didn’t even know what the secret was?”
Harry shrugged. “He knew Dumbledore gave me the task, knew it involved something
extremely Dark, and told me not to say anymore about it,” he said. “I got into a big fight,
well, not a fight exactly, but I got into it with Draco. He’s finally accepted that I’m not going
to tell him any more about them. He knows too much as it is.”
Ron and Hermione looked relieved. “There’s too much risk if this information gets out,” she
said.
“Agreed,” Harry said.
“We think you should destroy the diary and all the notes,” Ron said abruptly.
“Do you think so?” Harry asked. “I’d been thinking about it,” he admitted. “I just didn’t want
to do it before Voldemort was actually gone.”
“He’s gone now,” Hermione said. “So I think it’s safe to get rid of it. In fact, I think we’re in
more danger if we don’t get rid of it.”
She exchanged a loaded glance with Ron.
“What is it?” Harry asked, eyeing the two of them.
Hermione sucked in a deep breath and let it out again slowly. “We’ve talked about it a lot,”
she said. “And . . . we think you should Obliviate us.”
Harry reared back in shock. “What?!”
The chair he was sitting in tilted back too far for him to regain his balance and he went
crashing to the ground.
“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed. Her expression of worry didn’t lessen as Harry simply lay
there, trying to figure out why his friends would want him to modify their memories.
“Get up,” Ron muttered, hauling Harry to his feet. “Malfoy’s glaring at us enough as it is.”
Harry glanced at Draco, but simply waved a hand dismissively to indicate that he was all
right. He didn’t have the concentration to reassure Draco at the moment.
“Why would you want me to Obliviate you?” he demanded.
“Harry, sit down,” Hermione said nervously. “Just hear us out.”
“I reckon we should be thankful you’re so opposed,” Ron said.
“Of course I’m opposed to the idea,” Harry said indignantly, but he righted his chair and sat
down again. “Why the bloody hell would I want to Obliviate you? Why would you want me
to?”
He couldn’t fathom what they were thinking.

“Harry, it’s dangerous to know about the Horcruxes,” Hermione explained. “We needed to
know and you needed the help, but now . . . it’s over. I want it to stay over. We need to
destroy everything we possibly can to help prevent something like this from happening
again.”
“But to destroy our memories?” Harry questioned in disbelief. “Isn’t that going a little too
far?”
“Not your memories,” Ron said. “Just ours.”
“And that makes it better – how?” Harry snapped.
“You’re not as vulnerable as we are,” Hermione said. “You can protect the secrets better than
we can,” she added, sending a pointed glance to the other side of the room.
“You’ve kept it secret this long,” Harry protested. “Why couldn’t you continue to keep it
secret?”
“Harry,” Hermione said gently. “As the story gets out about Voldemort’s defeat, there’s going
to be questions about what you were doing with Nagini. What the artefacts were that you
dumped at Voldemort’s feet.”
“So? It’s not like I’m going to tell anyone,” Harry said. “And you wouldn’t, either.”
“No, we wouldn’t,” Hermione agreed. “Not intentionally.”
Harry frowned at her qualification. “What do you mean?”
“She means that I’m known for saying things sometimes that I shouldn’t,” Ron said.
Harry stared at him, knowing it had cost his friend a great deal to say those words.
Ron averted his gaze, but continued speaking. “I don’t want to accidentally end up
mentioning the Horcruxes,” he said. “I reckon we were lucky I didn’t say anything when I
was drunk on your birthday.”
“You’d never say anything,” Harry protested, but all three of them were aware that his words
weren’t ringing true.
“Harry, anyone could walk up to Ron and I right now and easily get the information from us,”
Hermione said. “All Snape would have to do is use Legilimency and he could find out
everything he wanted to know.”
“He wouldn’t,” Harry defended.
“But someone else could,” she said quietly. “Someone with less . . . morals.”
“Never would’ve thought Snape had morals,” Ron said. “But she’s right, Harry. Any Death
Eater wannabe with a few skills could find out everything from us easily.”
“Then we’ll teach you Occlumency,” Harry said. “So you can shield the memories.”
But Hermione was shaking her head even before he’d finished speaking. “Yes, that might
slow them down, but they could still torture us for the information,” she said.
Harry stared at her, wide-eyed. “Do you really think someone’s going to capture and torture
you?” he asked.
“Anything’s possible,” she said. “You should know that better than anyone.”
“But . . . that means you’re still not safe,” Harry said, his voice rising. “Voldemort’s gone,
damn it!”
“Harry, he was the most evil Wizard on the planet, not the only evil Wizard,” Hermione
pointed out.
“I’m not saying that there are people trying to hunt us down,” she went on quickly. “I’m just
saying that it’s possible. If not now, then at some point in the future. Everyone knows that
we’re close to you and they could try to get information from us. I’m not willing to risk it.”
“But the Occlumency,” Harry said.
“I’ve watched you, mate,” Ron said. “You face pain and torture like . . . well, like Snape, I
suppose. You Know Who, Vol-Voldemort, was in your head and you didn’t give away your
secrets. I couldn’t do that. If someone was torturing me, I’m afraid I’d squeal everything I
know to make it stop.”
“We’re just not as strong as you are,” Hermione said. “I’m not sure anyone is as strong as
you are,” she added, tilting her head thoughtfully as she mentally debated that issue.
“I’m not that strong,” Harry snapped irritably.
“You’re seventeen years old, Harry,” she said. “Just stop and think for ten seconds about how
much you’ve done in your life. How much you’ve gone through. It’s not normal, Harry.”
“Ron’s right,” she continued. “The only person I can think of who compares, is Snape.
You’ve both been to hell and back, and survived. I couldn’t do it.”
“Look at Malfoy,” Ron said. “I know you love him and everything, but he couldn’t handle the
pressure. Bloody hell, Harry. You faced Voldemort as a first year and it just kept going from
there.”
“All right, fine,” Harry snapped. “So I’m a freak.”
“You’re not a freak,” Hermione said fiercely. “But you are used to dealing with danger and
you handle it better than a lot of us.”
“I still don’t want to Obliviate you,” he muttered.

“You have to,” Hermione snapped. “It’s too dangerous for us to have the information
regarding the Horcruxes.”
“You two are mental,” Harry said.
“No more than you,” Ron retorted.
Harry snorted in self-contempt. “Doesn’t bode well for your sanity then, does it?”
“Stop it! Both of you,” Hermione said. “None of us are insane. Harry, this is simply the most
responsible thing to do.”
“How could it even be possible to Obliviate you?” he asked. “There’s an entire year worth of
memories.”
“There’s spells that will Obliviate a single word from a person’s memories,” Hermione said
briskly, falling into lecture mode. “It’ll blur the memories around the utterances of the
selected word. So, a lot of our conversations surrounding the Horcruxes – including this one
– would be a little hazy.”
Ron swallowed heavily, but he didn’t say anything. Hermione had clearly already filled him
in regarding this insane plan of hers.
“You can also select an object,” she continued. “All memories surrounding the object would
be forgotten.”
“The diary,” Harry murmured.
“Yes,” Hermione said. “The first spell would obviously wipe out much of our memories of
the diary, but I’m not sure it would be sufficient. There’s still too much we learned that would
be extremely dangerous.”
“Hermione, this isn’t right,” Harry said. “I can’t do this.”
“You must,” she insisted. “Ron and I have talked it over. We’re agreed that this is for the
best.”
“Don’t you mean that you talked and Ron listened?” Harry said snidely. “What’d you do?
Tell him no sex until he agreed to go along with you?”
Hermione’s arm swung, the palm of her hand connecting with Harry’s cheek and knocking
his head sideways with the force of it.
He slowly turned his head back to face her, registering that Ron was gaping in disbelief. “I
deserved that,” he said.
“Yes, you did,” she said, unapologetic but obviously hurt by Harry’s thoughtless remarks. “I
don’t know how you could say something like that.”
Ron shook off his shock and smiled sheepishly. “I reckon it’s not so hard to say something
stupid when you’re feeling frustrated,” he said in understanding.
Harry touched his cheek gingerly. “I got off pretty easy, considering,” he agreed. “Hermione,
I’m sorry,” he said.
“Me, too,” she said, sighing. “This isn’t easy for us, either, you know.”
“It’s got to be a hundred times harder for you,” Harry said. “That’s why I don’t understand
why you’d both want to do this.”
“We’re not going to be losing all our memories,” she pointed out. “Just the memories of the
Horcruxes and the diary. As far as I can tell, it would put us at about the same level as Malfoy
in terms of what he knows.”
Harry nodded slowly. “That’s about all he doesn’t know,” he agreed.
“Which is a lot, and important, but you’ve said yourself that he accepts that you can’t tell him
any more,” she said. “We accept it as well. It’s safer this way.”
“But are the memory spells actually safe?” Harry asked.
“I’ve researched them thoroughly and you’re easily powerful enough to perform them,” she
said. She sent a sidelong glance in Ron’s direction, but continued speaking to Harry. “And
you’ll be doing them with your wand intact.”
“The Lockhart factor has been taken into consideration, then,” Harry said dryly.
“Luckily I trust you and Hermione,” Ron said, “because I’m not keen on the idea of being
Obliviated.”
“Hermione, are you sure there’s not another way?” Harry asked.
“I wish there was, but I do think this is best,” she answered. “I’ve been thinking about this for
months,” she admitted. “I’m not comfortable with losing some of my memories, but I’m far
more uncomfortable knowing the things that I do.”
Forehead furrowed in concentration, Harry thought about everything she was saying. He
understood that she wasn’t comfortable knowing what she did. She was uncomfortable with
all of the Dark Arts and the details about how to create Horcruxes ranked right up at the top
of the list. All the more horrible for everything that had happened with Voldemort.
She could live with that, but she couldn’t live with the idea that someone else might gain
access to the knowledge. And that was the real problem. The reason they were discussing
this.
Harry didn’t like the situation in the slightest, but unfortunately, it was making sense. He’d
already thought about destroying the diary. The thought of what could happen if someone
discovered that information . . . it was terrifying.
Another Dark Lord coming along in the future was inevitable, but there was no point in
hurrying things along – or handing them a manual, whether it was a physical book or through
Ron and Hermione’s memories.
“It’s a risk if I know about the Horcruxes, too,” he said. “Shouldn’t I be Obliviated as well?”
“The information is safer with you than anyone,” Ron said simply.
“I think you should keep your memories,” Hermione said. She paused, biting her lip. “This
was between you and Voldemort. Of all people, you should know the full truth about what’s
happened.”
“But I’ll never be able to share that truth with anyone,” Harry said. “I won’t even be able to
talk to you two any longer.”
Hermione gazed at him sadly. “That is the price you’ll have to pay. We’ll lose our memories.
You’ll have the burden of keeping them.”
Harry looked over at Draco, feeling nauseated as he remembered Draco saying that he would
Obliviate his mum if it kept her and himself safe. He remembered feeling horrified at the very
idea.
He couldn’t handle the mixture of concern and anger currently on Draco’s face and he
dropped his head into his hands.
“You know, I thought all the crises would be over when Voldemort died,” he muttered.
“He was a huge part of your life for a long time, Harry,” Hermione said. “It’s not going to be
simply over with a Killing Curse. We’ve got to deal with this. You’ll probably have
nightmares for months, if not years. There’s still the other Death Eater trials. When we get
back to Hogwarts there’s a group of rather hostile Slytherins that are not remotely happy with
you or Malfoy.”
“Hermione,” Harry interrupted. “You’re not reassuring.”
“Oh, Harry, I’m sorry,” she said. “I know it doesn’t sound very reassuring, but it’s the truth.
Life is full of crises. You have dealt with the biggest crisis, though, so things will be better
now. Life simply isn’t perfect, but it will be easier.”
“I’m not sure that Obliviating my friends is easier,” he muttered. “When are you wanting to
do this?”
“The sooner the better,” Ron answered.
Harry looked at him in surprise.
Ron shrugged. “If we’re going to do this, I’d rather get it done and over with,” he said.
“Just give me a bit to think about it,” Harry said before dropping the Silencing Charm.
“What’d you do to him?” Draco demanded, glaring fiercely at Ron and Hermione.
“Leave them alone,” Harry said. “They’re being noble and self-sacrificing for the greater
good,” he added bitterly.
“Hitting you is noble?” Ginny questioned.
Harry rubbed his hand over his cheek, wondering if Hermione’s handprint was still imprinted
there. “No, that was deserved,” he admitted, moving over to sit on Draco’s lap.
“Where’s Victoria?” he asked.
“I had Winky lay her down in the nursery,” Draco answered, pulling Harry close. “Have you
lot always been this violent?”
“We’re not violent,” Hermione protested.
Draco arched a brow, touching Harry’s cheek gently. “I do know how this feels,” he said
pointedly.
“You deserved it,” Hermione retorted. “You were being a vile, little cockroach.”
“And was Harry being a ‘vile, little cockroach’?” Draco asked dangerously.
“Well, no,” she admitted. “He was being a stupid boy, who even in a crisis has sex on the
brain.”
Harry and Ron laughed as Draco choked and the others stared at her incredulously.
“What were you doing, Harry?” Ginny asked. “I wouldn’t think you’d be propositioning
Hermione.”
“I wasn’t!” Harry exclaimed, still laughing.
“No, he was worried about Ron’s lack of a sex life,” Hermione retorted. “And if Ron keeps
laughing, he’s going to discover what that means.”
Ron shut up abruptly and everyone else started laughing.
“As amusing as this is,” Draco drawled, “I know that’s not what was actually being discussed
over there.” He gestured to the other side of the room with a jerk of his chin.
Harry dropped his head to Draco’s shoulder, sobering quickly.
“Despite what Draco said, you’re not generally a violent lot,” Blaise pointed out.
“Tension has just been incredibly high,” Hermione said sadly.
“Not everyone puts their best friends through as much shite as I do,” Harry said bitterly.
“This summer has been worse than ever. And that’s saying something, considering the
extreme situations we’ve been in over the years.”
“Harry,” Hermione began.
“I know, Hermione,” Harry interrupted. “I know it should be done, all right. It doesn’t mean
that I have to like it.”
“I need to talk to Severus,” he said abruptly, sliding off of Draco’s lap.
“Why?” Draco demanded.
“You want to talk to Snape about it?” Ron asked incredulously.
Harry rubbed at his temples, feeling a headache coming on. He’d not had a Pain-Relieving
Potion and had thought that he was done with them.
“What the hell is going on?” Draco demanded. “Everything was fine, he talks to you lot and .
. . and what the hell is going on?” he repeated.
Harry exchanged glances with Ron and Hermione.
“Snape won’t try to talk you out of it, will he?” Hermione asked.
“He is still Snape,” Harry retorted. “He’ll probably encourage it.”
“Then why are you wanting to talk to him?” Ron asked. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“Because he’ll be more objective about it than I am,” Harry said, feeling agitated. “I don’t
want to do this but he’ll help me think it through.”
Ron snorted in disbelief. “Snape’s objective? Since when?”
Harry opened his mouth, “Uhh.”
“Not encouraging, Harry,” Ron said dryly.
“No, he’s not particularly objective,” Harry said, “but when it comes to things involving
Voldemort, I trust his judgment. If he agrees with Hermione, then I reckon it’s the right thing
to do.”
Ron was beginning to look angry. “You don’t trust Hermione?”
“I do trust Hermione but . . . Ron, I don’t want to fuck this up,” Harry said.
“It’s all right, Ron,” Hermione said soothingly. “We should be grateful Harry’s thinking it
through and wants a second opinion.”
“Yeah, all right,” Ron said grudgingly.
“What is going on?” Draco ground out.
Harry looked to Ron and Hermione pleadingly. “He already knows about part of it,” he said.
“What part?” Ron exclaimed. “We’ve only just talked about this.”
Hermione, though, understood Harry was referring to destroying the diary. She was biting her
lip and glanced at Draco nervously, but she nodded.
“He won’t say anything, right?” she asked.
“‘Course he won’t,” Harry said. Grabbing Draco’s hand, he quickly pulled him out of the
room to go find Severus.
Downstairs, through the kitchen, a vague wave to Remus and Narcissa and the two boys burst
into the potions room. They received matching glares from Severus and Lucius, who were
both working on potions. Harry involuntarily took a step back.
“To what do I owe this interruption?” Severus asked smoothly. His gaze flicked to Harry’s
cheek. “Things not progressing well with the Gryffindors?”
“Uh, it’s going fine, actually,” Harry said. “A little tense, but well enough, anyway.”
“Until Granger got worked up about something,” Draco said snidely, “and decided to take it
out on Harry.”
“That’s not true!” Harry protested. “She just slapped me because I said something stupid. I
didn’t like what she was saying.”
“What was she saying?” Severus asked.
“That’s what I’d like to know,” Draco snapped.
Harry took a deep breath. He needed to calm down and start over. His eyes skimmed over the
workbenches. Obviously Severus and Lucius were busy.
“Um, when you’re finished, there’s something important that I need to talk to you about,” he
said. “I’m sorry for interrupting.”
He was pinned to the spot by Severus’ penetrating stare. “How important?” Severus asked.
“Whatever it is, it involves the Dark Lord,” Draco spoke up while Harry was still mentally
debating how to answer. “But that’s about all I know. Well, that, and the fact that it’s
shocking enough to have Harry falling out of chairs and getting himself slapped.”
Harry darted an irritated glare in his direction. “You can shut up now,” he said. He was upset
enough about this and Draco wasn’t helping.
But Severus and Lucius were already moving to preserve their work. “Five minutes, Harry,
and then you will have my full attention,” Severus said.
“Yes, sir,” Harry said, backing out of the room.

Back in the kitchen, Draco commanded Harry to sit down and went about fixing them some
tea. Harry sat, as ordered, realizing that Draco did understand how upset he was, even if he
didn’t understand why. He wondered what he looked like, because Severus and Lucius had
willingly interrupted potions brewing for him and Remus and Narcissa were now eyeing him
in concern.
“Is everything all right, Harry?” Remus asked.
Harry shook his head miserably. He quietly drank his tea as Draco explained what little he
knew about what had happened. It wasn’t long before the group was sitting around the
kitchen table. The only difference being the Silencing Charms placed on the room with others
in the house.
He couldn’t figure out how it had become quite so involved. He’d only wanted to talk to
Severus, but now it was a big meeting. A family meeting? He smiled a little at that thought.
Except it was more of a war meeting, as it had to do with Voldemort.
“Explain what is so urgent,” Severus said, gaining Harry’s attention.
“Hermione and Ron want me to Obliviate them,” Harry said in a rush.
Eyebrows rose around the table.
“Why?” Remus asked.
Watching his words carefully, Harry relayed the conversation he’d had with Ron and
Hermione.
“Your Gryffindors have more sense than I have given them credit for,” Severus murmured
when he had finished.
Harry glared at him. “Not helpful,” he said.
“Harry, I had already been debating how to address this topic with you,” Severus said. “The
fact that they have brought it up themselves makes the problem much easier to deal with. I
happen to agree with Miss Granger that this is the best course of action.”
Slumping down in his chair, Harry nodded in acknowledgement. “I told her you’d probably
encourage it,” he admitted.
“The information has clearly been buried in history for a reason,” Severus said. “The fewer
that know the particulars of the Dark Lord’s activities and his defeat, the better.”
He eyed Harry speculatively. “I am surprised Miss Granger is willing to relinquish any

knowledge that she has gained,” he said.
“But this is horrible knowledge,” Harry said. “It’s the stuff you try to forget.”
He stopped as his words sunk in and sighed in defeat. “This really is best, isn’t it?”
“I believe so,” Severus said.
Harry crossed his arms on the table and dropped his head down on them. It wasn’t right to
Obliviate his friends. Did everyone have to face these kinds of ethical dilemmas or was it just
him? He sighed, knowing he wasn’t the only one, but he felt like he’d been faced with too
many lately.
He’d thought the situation with Pettigrew had been bad. And it had been. Even if he felt
Pettigrew had deserved his fate, Harry hadn’t enjoyed being judge and executioner. Killing
Voldemort was its own ethical dilemma, but he’d resigned himself to becoming a murderer
long ago. And he’d done it. He’d faced both dilemmas and made choices that he knew many
wouldn’t approve of.
Even though most everyone had felt Voldemort deserved death, not everyone would’ve been
able to compromise their own morals to be able to cast the fatal curse. Draco’s conscience
had not allowed him to kill Dumbledore when he had everything, his own life, on the line.
Now, Harry was being asked to modify his friends’ memories. Tamper with their minds. He
remembered all too well what it had been like having someone messing with his head. From
the evil perspective, there was Voldemort. From the good, (was it really good?) there was
Draco helping him with his Occlumency. Severus fell somewhere in the middle. Each time
had been a violation of his mind.
These were different circumstances, but the result would still be same. In fact, he wasn’t
positive that this situation wasn’t worse. He’d not be observing their memories; he would be
erasing them altogether. It didn’t matter that it was “just” the Horcruxes and the diary. They
were still memories that belonged to Ron and Hermione. Memory modification was an
extreme violation, as far as he was concerned.
Once again, he had to do something ethically wrong, for the greater good. Only this time, it
was to his best friends.
Draco’s hand found its way to the nape of Harry’s neck and rubbed gentle circles, randomly
pausing to comb through Harry’s hair before resuming the circles. Harry wondered idly if it
was the habit of the day, or if Draco would do this often. He found it incredibly soothing.
He listened as the others debated the issues, going around the problem the same way
Hermione had. There was some historical events brought up that Harry was sure Hermione
would’ve been interested in hearing. Or debating, considering she’d probably already read
about them. Harry could care less. Nothing changed.
Obliviating as much information as possible regarding the Horcruxes was still the best
solution. Even Remus was in agreement, and if Remus, the peaceful Gryffindor, thought it
was best, Harry couldn’t find it within to argue.
Winky was summoned to fetch Ron and Hermione. Harry buried his face deeper in his arms.
If the gathering upstairs had been uncomfortable . . . he desperately wished he could
disappear.
He dragged his head up when he heard the kitchen door open. Hermione and Ron stood just
inside the doorway, staring with wide eyes. Harry couldn’t blame them for being
uncomfortable. This group was rather intimidating if you weren’t used to them.
“Harry?” Hermione questioned, her voice pitched higher than normal.
“Come sit down,” he said wearily, gesturing to the empty chairs on the other side of Draco.
Ron started to shake his head no, but stopped himself. He didn’t move, though.
Harry was sitting at the end of the table across from Severus, per usual when there was
something to be discussed. Draco was next to him. Remus was seated next to Severus. If Ron
and Hermione ever sat down, it would leave them facing Lucius and Narcissa.
Clearly not a position Ron wanted to be in.
Lucius and Severus were remaining impassive, but Narcissa and Remus were smiling
warmly.
“It is safe to join us,” Remus said mildly.
Ron didn’t look like he agreed, but he allowed Hermione to drag him to the table and they sat
gingerly. Draco abruptly stood.
“Budge over, Harry,” he ordered, gesturing to the seat he’d just vacated.
Harry wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or irritated, and Draco obviously picked up on his
mixed emotions.
“I simply don’t feel like seeing Weasley having an apoplectic fit because he’s forced to sit
next to me,” he said. His words didn’t carry a sting. Rather, they were issued in a carefully
neutral tone.
Offering Draco a faint smile of gratitude, Harry slid over a chair to sit next to Ron.
“Harry, what’s this about?” Hermione asked nervously. She jumped as Winky deposited cups
of tea before her and Ron.
“I told them about what we were talking about, and they agree with you,” Harry said.
“Oh,” Hermione said.
“You told the Malfoys?” Ron hissed.
“Uh, yeah,” Harry said, wincing. “I didn’t plan on it – I was just going to talk to Severus and
Draco – but it kind of turned into a family meeting of sorts.”
Ron looked faint. “Family meeting?”

“We’ve been holding family meetings here half the summer,” Draco drawled pleasantly.
“Generally they’re conducted during breakfast, though.”
“Breakfast?” Ron echoed. “All of you eat here? Together?”
“What’d you think, Ron?” Harry asked defensively. “You’ve known for almost two weeks
that we were all living here.”
“This simply feels awkward to us,” Hermione cut in. Harry could see her gripping Ron’s
hand tightly under the table – whether in reassurance or warning, he wasn’t sure. But she
appeared to have regained her equilibrium. “I’m sure it feels much more comfortable for
you.”
Normally, Harry would agree with her. At the moment, though, he was feeling anything but
comfortable. He glanced warily at the adults seated across from them. Their silence was not
encouraging. It was surprising that Severus hadn’t said anything from the first moment Ron
had balked at coming into the room.
“Mr. Weasley,” Severus’ voice cut sharply through the air. Ron instantly sat up straight and
Severus’ lips twitched into an amused smirk.
Ron glowered, but didn’t say anything.
“I wish to know why you believe this course of action is best,” Severus said.
Ron cast a questioning glance at Harry, silently asking why Severus was asking him instead
of Hermione.
“He’s already fairly certain how Hermione feels about me Obliviating her memories,” Harry
said. “He wants to hear from you, how you personally feel about it.” He rubbed absently at
his cheek. “What he really wants to know is if you actually want it, or if it’s just Hermione’s
influence on you.”
“Thank you for your translation services, Harry,” Severus said sarcastically.
Harry flashed him a rueful smile, shrugging. His smile fell away as he glanced down the table
at Hermione. She looked rather put out that once again there was insinuation that she was
making this decision for Ron.
“I think I understand now,” Draco drawled. “You suggested that she threatened Weasley with
–”
Harry turned back to Draco and slapped a hand over his mouth. “Shut it, Draco,” he hissed.
His friends were uncomfortable enough. They didn’t need Draco adding embarrassment on
top of everything else.
He could see the glint of mischievousness in Draco’s eyes and he could feel Draco’s mouth
forming into a smirk under his hand, but he was still startled when Draco licked his palm.
Inhaling sharply, Harry pulled his hand away. Draco opened his mouth to speak and Harry
kissed him. A quick, hard kiss. “Draco, not one word,” he warned. “Hermione didn’t actually
make such a threat, but I will.”
“You wouldn’t,” Draco protested.
Harry arched a brow, daring Draco not to believe him.
“Fine,” Draco said, crossing his arms over his chest and sulking.
Severus was glaring at both of them. “This is a serious matter,” he said.
“I know it is,” Harry protested. “That’s why I stopped Draco from teasing Ron and
Hermione. They’ve got enough to be getting on with at the moment.”
Watching Severus bow his head momentarily, Harry was certain he was searching for
patience.
“And you wished for the opportunity to return to Hogwarts where there are hundreds of
them,” Lucius said to Severus, amusement clear in his voice.
“I believe we have already established that there are none as difficult as these two,” Severus
said snidely.
“Oh, no,” Harry said. “We’re not starting this again.”
Severus arched a brow. “Are you suggesting that you and Draco will start cooperating?” he
asked smoothly.
“We cooperate,” Draco said. He exchanged glances with Harry, his eyes once again sparkling
with mischief. “Sometimes,” he qualified.
“Boys,” Narcissa said reproachfully. Harry had the distinct impression that Lucius and
Severus were included in her admonishment. “I recognize that this is easing the tension for
some, but I remind you that we do have company.”
Harry winced as he looked back at his gobsmacked friends.
“This is easing the tension?” Ron questioned.
“Er, yeah,” Harry said. He did actually feel a little better than he had earlier. “It’s just joking
around like everyone does at your house.”
Ron and Hermione’s jaws dropped as Severus and the Malfoys’ eyebrows rose at the
comparison.
“Or not,” Harry said. It hadn’t been a particularly nasty exchange this time, but he had to
admit, it probably hadn’t sounded very friendly to someone not used to it. And Ron and
Hermione were definitely not used to Severus and the Malfoys.
Remus smiled at Harry in understanding. “Perhaps the banter and the insults are a little more
. . . barbed here,” he said. “I’ve often thought living in this household requires a thicker skin
than the average home.”
Gazing around the table at the people he lived with, Harry had to agree. Nice, polite, friendly
– they weren’t the first words he’d choose to describe any of them aside from Remus. Lucius
had flat out said he didn’t do nice.
Harry had grown up exchanging insults with Dudley. It wasn’t particularly a culture shock for
him to adjust to the type of banter at Grimmauld Place. Sarcasm, snide remarks, sneers and
smirks. It went beyond the level of friendly insults at the Burrow, with a darker edge. Harry
enjoyed it, but he recognized that Hermione, in particular, probably found it rather offensive.
Ron had grown up with plenty of insulting banter, but he also didn’t appreciate it like the
twins did.
Suddenly, Harry wasn’t sure that his friends would ever understand his relationship with
Draco. They didn’t need to understand it, but he was more aware than ever that it was going
to be extremely difficult for them to truly accept it. His and Draco’s relationship wasn’t as –
he searched for an appropriate word – light as Ron and Hermione’s. Did that mean he and
Draco were dark?
He shook his head to clear it of the abstract thoughts, realizing that everyone was watching
him.
“Ready to join us?” Draco drawled.
“Sorry,” Harry muttered.
“Shall we try this again?” Severus asked. He waited until he received a sheepish nod from
Harry before continuing. “Mr. Weasley, do you think you could answer my question now?”
Ron swallowed audibly before speaking. “Erm, it was Hermione’s idea,” he admitted, casting
an apologetic glance in her direction. “I didn’t like it at first, but it makes sense. And I really
don’t want to know this stuff.” He paused as a shudder trailed down his spine.
“I’ll still have all my other memories,” he continued. “I just don’t want to end up like
Lockhart, but I trust Harry. I think Hermione’s more upset than I am, because she actually
cares about learning new things. Taking away some of what she’s learned isn’t very pleasant
for her. She wanted to explore the language, but she won’t be able to now.”
“Are you referring to the Parseltongue?” Severus questioned.
“Yes,” Hermione answered, darting a surprised glance at Harry.
He shrugged. He’d forgotten that he’d told them about that.
“It is regrettable,” Severus murmured, eyeing Harry speculatively. “Have you attempted to
write anything in Parseltongue?”
“Yes, in my abundance of free time, I’ve explored writing in a language that no one can read
aside from me,” Harry said sarcastically. At Severus’ glare, he rolled his eyes. “No, I haven’t
tried it. I can’t even hear the Parseltongue. I just hear English. How you expect me to be able
to write it is beyond my understanding.”
He wasn’t overly surprised when Severus had Winky retrieve snake, parchment, ink and
quill. He sighed in resignation and took up the quill.
Winky had brought Rave and Harry stared at his blue snake, hoping for inspiration. He had
no idea how to do this.
“Does Master need something?” Rave hissed.
Harry snorted. “Not exactly. They brought you, hoping it would help me, but I don’t think you
know how to write down your language and that’s what I’m trying to do,” he said, tapping the
parchment. “I do think it’s rather funny they brought you for this, though, since you’re the
Ravenclaw.”
Rave slithered over the parchment, flicking her tongue out, testing it. “I do not believe I will
be much help,” she said.
“I don’t even hear your language, I hear mine,” he said. His face twisted into a grimace.
“That didn’t make much sense.”
He glanced at the others, listening to the interaction with awed fascination. Clearly they heard
a different language. Although, Ron didn’t seem particularly impressed, scooting closer to
Hermione.
“Perhaps you need to write what you hear,” Rave suggested.
Harry tilted his head curiously. “Can I do that? And get Parseltongue?”
“I do not know,” Rave said.
Dipping the quill in the ink, he put it to the parchment. “Keep talking,” he hissed. “Say . . . I
think this experiment is pointless. Slowly.”
He closed his eyes and concentrated on Rave, letting his hand write out what he was hearing.
After he’d written the sentence, he opened his eyes and stared at the page. It was
horrendously sloppy handwriting, but he could read it.
“What does it say?” Hermione asked excitedly.
“It’s not English?” Harry asked.
Hermione shook her head. “It’s the same as Voldemort’s,” she said. “Only, not nearly as
neat.”
Harry scowled at her. “At least I managed to do it,” he said.

“What does it say?” she repeated.
He glanced down at the parchment. “I think this experiment is pointless,” he read.
“Harry, it’s not pointless,” Hermione admonished. “This is a major accomplishment.”
“I’m thrilled,” Harry said sarcastically.
“Lack of appreciation aside,” Severus said, “it is clear that further study is possible.”
Harry wondered darkly if Severus and Hermione realized how much they were sometimes
alike. Then again, Remus’ eyes were also shining with the challenge of studying something
new. Harry knew he was doomed to future experiments.
“Sorry, mate,” Ron said, offering him a look of commiseration.
Grateful for the support, Harry smiled ruefully. At least he wasn’t the only one who didn’t
appreciate this alleged accomplishment.
“So, I can have my bonfire now?” he asked.
“Yes, the book may be destroyed,” Severus said dryly. “I would actually prefer that it be done
as soon as possible.”
“Sir?” Hermione spoke hesitantly.
Severus arched a brow questioningly.
“I also want Harry to Obliviate us as soon as possible,” she said. “But I, well, I think it
should be done here.”
Ron groaned. “I was afraid she’d say that,” he muttered.
“Molly would not appreciate seeing the two of you disoriented,” Remus said in agreement
with Hermione.
“I don’t understand,” Harry said. “I thought this was supposed to be safe.”
“I will make sure of it,” Severus said. “However, with the level intended for this amount of
memory modification, it will leave them disoriented for several hours. They will need time to
adjust and they will need to be observed.”
“They may stay overnight,” Narcissa said. “Many of the Slytherins have returned to their
homes, so there is a room available.”
“We’d share a room?” Ron blurted out, instantly blushing a bright red.
Hermione was scandalized. “Ron!”
Draco and Harry sniggered. “I reckon it’s a little more relaxed here than it is at the burrow,”
Harry said.
“Could you possibly spare me this commentary?” Severus requested snidely, gazing at Ron
and Hermione in disgust.
Remus cleared his throat, attempting to suppress a smile. “It will be little different than a stay
in the hospital wing at Hogwarts,” he explained. “If you wish to do this immediately, I can
contact Molly and arrange for you to stay.”
“Yeah, that’d be good,” Ron said weakly.
*****
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Notes

Chapter Fifty-Six
Harry glared venomously at Hermione and Severus, the worst possible teaching duo on the
planet.
With Hermione’s memory on the line, she’d refused not to be a part of Harry learning the
Obliviation spells. Severus, of course, insisted on teaching them to Harry himself. It was a
nightmare.
Severus wouldn’t deign to speak to the know-it-all. Hermione was still a little scared of the
evil Death Eater and refused to speak to him in return. Both of them, however, were quite
vocal regarding every tiny mistake Harry made. If he was to repeat back vital information,
and he dared to forget something, he would receive two tongue-lashings.
It had started out peaceful enough, but Severus and Hermione had very different ideas on
how something should be taught. The angrier they became with each other, the more it was
taken out on Harry.
Draco and Remus stood off to the side, watching the situation unfold with morbid
fascination. Harry vowed to exact revenge for their lack of interference. Remus, especially,
could surely do something. How did they expect Harry to withstand two such formidable
forces? Ron had been the smart one, refusing to even be in the same room. He’d known what
Harry would be up against.
“Potter, you must concentrate,” Severus said coldly. “I’m sure you don’t wish to turn your
friends into vegetables because of your inability to pay attention to simple instructions.”
Harry’s nostrils flared. He’d had enough. Spinning on his heel, he stalked to the door.
“Harry!” Hermione said shrilly. “Where are you going? You have to learn these spells
properly!”
He refused to acknowledge either of them, slamming the door behind him. He wasn’t even
sure why they’d gone to the training room for this type of spell. It was ridiculous. Stomping
his way furiously to the kitchen, he muttered obscenities and ideas for revenge.
Ron poked his head out of the drawing room at the noise, took one look at Harry and
retreated quickly.
“You didn’t kill them, did you?” he asked, poking his head out again.
“No,” Harry ground out.
“All right,” Ron said, disappearing back into the drawing room.
Harry continued on his trek downstairs, storming into the kitchen. He stared blankly for a
moment at the empty room before continuing on. For the second time that morning, he burst
into the potions room.
Lucius didn’t look surprised. Nor did he look busy, as he had the last time. He and Narcissa
sat on one of the couches and gazed at Harry calmly, looking as if they’d been waiting for
him.
“Do you know these spells?” Harry demanded.
“Of course,” Lucius drawled.
“Will you teach them to me?” Harry pleaded.
“Have you found your instructors incompetent?” Lucius questioned innocently.
Harry sent him the same venomous glare he’d directed at Severus and Hermione.
Lucius arched a brow. “It went that well, did it?”
“I can learn from Severus. I can learn from Hermione. I can not learn from them at the same
time,” Harry spat. “And Remus and Draco, traitors, the both of them. Just stood there and
watched me being flayed.”
Smirking, Lucius warded the room to ensure they wouldn’t be interrupted and proceeded to
calmly teach Harry the memory modification spells. Narcissa quietly assisted and provided
encouragement. Harry appreciated her soothing presence after the disaster upstairs.
Considering he’d already grasped some of the concepts from Severus and Hermione, it didn’t
take long for Harry to understand and learn the spells.
“Very good,” Narcissa praised.
Harry beamed at her before tilting his head thoughtfully as he stared at the two of them. “You
know, I really do think you’ll make great professors,” he said.
Lucius didn’t appear to take it as a compliment, but Narcissa smiled warmly and nodded in
acknowledgement.
“I have heard too many horror stories from Severus over the years to look forward to
teaching,” Lucius said.
“Then I reckon it will actually be punishment for you,” Harry said, shrugging. “I still think
you’ll do well, though. You’ll expect nothing less from yourself.”
Lucius arched a brow in surprise. “You are correct,” he agreed. “Failure is not an option.”
Harry shuddered, wondering how many times Draco had repeated those words to himself the
year before.
Narcissa put an arm around his shoulders, squeezing lightly and he knew she understood. She
didn’t say anything about it, though.
“Come,” she said, guiding him to the door. “I believe it is time for a late lunch.”
She kept her arm around him as they entered the kitchen. Harry appreciated the protective
and reassuring gesture as he stared at the people in the room, the tension hitting him full
force.
Severus was scowling furiously. Draco and Hermione were sulking angrily, arms crossed
over their chests. There was a chair left open between them, but Harry was not at all certain
he wanted to sit there. Ron sat between Hermione and Ginny, shying away from Hermione.
Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle were there as well, silent and watchful.
Remus was tending to Victoria, already feeding her lunch. He looked up and smiled as they
entered. “Lunch is on the table,” he said. “We were just waiting for you.”
Narcissa squeezed his shoulders once more in reassurance before urging him to join the
others.
The tension was absolutely unbearable as they all began to eat. Harry found himself wishing
for the Slytherins to come back. In retrospect, those meals had been enjoyable. This was
torture.
His hopes were dwindling rapidly. He had been afraid that the truces wouldn’t hold after the
war was over. Voldemort was gone and old hostilities were rearing their ugly heads.
Checking on Hermione and Ron, he recognized that even Ron had lost his appetite. He
abruptly pushed away from the table. It was pointless to continue sitting there.
“Sit,” Severus ordered.
“Why?” Harry demanded. “It’s not like anyone’s actually eating. Aside from Victoria. Maybe
if Ron and Hermione and I leave the table, the rest of you can actually enjoy your meal.
Either way, I don’t have to sit here.”
He glanced at Hermione’s little trunk that he’d spotted sitting by the wall. “I just want to get
this over with, then they can go home and everyone will be satisfied again,” he said bitterly.
Severus stood abruptly. “Come with me,” he commanded, sweeping from the room.
Harry scowled at his back, but reluctantly followed him to the potions room. Severus spun to
face him, his robes billowing ominously.
“You need to control yourself,” he said coldly. “I will not be made to look a fool.”
“Me?!” Harry exclaimed incredulously. “You were the one fighting with Hermione about
how to teach the bloody spells. Both of you were using me as your scapegoat. You still loathe
each other and I’m stuck in the middle.”
“Mr. Potter, I will not be forced into entertaining your little friends,” Severus sneered, his
eyes flashing dangerously. “It is enough that I tolerate your insolence.”
Harry felt like he’d been slapped in the face again. He’d known Severus was angry, but not
this angry. Angry enough to address Harry formally with that icy voice. It wasn’t until this
moment that he fully appreciated that over the summer he’d come to recognize the subtle
differences in Severus’ attitudes. A sneer, a smirk, a smile. They weren’t an accurate
indicator of Severus’ mood. The temperature of his expression made the difference. And, at
the moment, it was bitterly cold.
Severus had been furious to start with and Harry had apparently pushed his limits a step too
far. Had he pushed Severus so far that he was going to reject him again? Voldemort was gone
and there was no reason that Severus had to tolerate him any more. He wasn’t sure that he’d
done anything that horrible – he’d certainly done and said worse – but Severus clearly didn’t
appreciate the situation.
Fine. If Severus wanted strict obedience, then Harry would try to give it to him. He wasn’t
sure he could handle it if everything went back to the way it had been before the summer.
Much as didn’t want to admit it, he needed Severus’ approval now.
“Yes, sir,” he said, standing up straight. “If I may return to the table now?”
Severus was startled by Harry’s abrupt change in attitude, and didn’t say anything. Harry
took it as permission and went back to the kitchen. He ignored everyone’s wary and
concerned gazes and sat down at the table, forcing himself to eat. The remainder of the meal
was no more comfortable than the first part had been.
No one moved as Winky cleared the dirty plates from the table.
“May I be excused?” Harry requested, speaking into the silence.
“Harry, this wasn’t what I had in mind,” Severus said wearily.
Keeping his eyes firmly glued to the table top, Harry grit his teeth. Strict obedience was not
his strong suit.
“May I be excused?” he repeated.
“No, you may not,” Severus said.
Harry sighed in defeat, giving up before he’d barely started. Blind obedience for the sake of
obedience was for the birds – or Death Eaters. It wasn’t going to work for him. He pushed
back from the table and stood up.
“Sorry, Severus,” he said. “This isn’t going to work. I get to speak my mind and you get to
hate whomever you please. That’s just the way it is. If –”
If I’m one of those you hate again, then so be it, he thought.
“– if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a Dark Lord to destroy,” he finished out loud. “Again,” he
added.
Scooping up the small trunk, he once again disappeared into the potions room. It had a
fireplace and would work well enough for privacy. Hermione and Ron appeared a minute
later and he cast Silencing Charm and wards.
Despite the wards, his friends didn’t speak. After unlocking the trunk, he looked up at them.
Hermione cleared her throat. “What just happened?” she asked.
Harry shrugged dismissively. “I pissed off Severus,” he said.
“He didn’t look happy when you walked out,” she said hesitantly.
“Nothing new about that, is there?” he said, attempting to contain his bitterness but knowing
he hadn’t succeeded.
“You really care for the greasy git, don’t you?” Ron said.
Not dignifying that with a response, Harry began pulling out the stacks of notes. On the
bottom was the diary. He flipped through the pages, not registering any of the words. He tore
one out at random and thrilled at the ripping sound, finding it distinctly satisfying.
“Harry, we should talk about this,” Hermione said, kneeling beside him.
“About what?” Harry asked, tearing out another page.

She licked her lips nervously. “You’re obviously extremely angry,” she said. “I think you’re
feeling hurt as well.”
“Just leave it, Hermione,” Harry warned, viciously ripping out several pages at once.
“I’m sorry, Harry,” she said miserably. “I know you’re stuck in the middle and I just made it
worse.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he snapped. “I’ve chosen to be where I’m at. I should’ve remembered
that everyone hated each other and it wouldn’t be easy to even pretend to get along. Why
Draco asked you over here, I have no idea.”
“Because we are trying,” Hermione said. “It’s because of that,” she pointed accusingly to the
pile of notes, “that everything has fallen apart today. Everyone knows how upset you are
about it and it’s putting all of us on edge.”
“So it’s my fault, is it?” he said. “Of course it is.”
“No!” Hermione said. “It’s your fault we’re getting along at all!”
Harry stopped and stared at her. She looked confused and angry and irritated with her own
words. He started laughing. Just a light snigger at first until it was full blown laughter.
Slowly, her expression changed and she started laughing with him, until they were hanging
off each other in an attempt to stay upright.
Ron looked bewildered and a little alarmed, which simply caused them to laugh harder, until
tears were streaming down their cheeks. It took them a fair while to calm down again.
“I needed that,” Harry said.
“Me, too,” Hermione agreed. She rested against his side, where she’d ended up, not looking
at him.
Ron finally sat opposite them, watching them both warily.
“So, it’s my fault everyone’s getting along, is it?” Harry questioned mildly.
Hermione giggled. “Well, yes,” she said. “It’s difficult to believe that we were all sitting at
the same table together. It’s because of you that we were.”
“It was bloody awful,” Ron said, grimacing.
“It was,” Harry agreed. “I’m sorry I put you through it.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Hermione said, sitting up properly so she could look at him. “Yes, it was
awful and, well, really quite horrible, but that’s all right,” she said.
“How, Hermione?” he asked. “How could it possibly be all right? All of you hate each other
and you shouldn’t have to pretend to get along for my sake. It just makes everything worse.”
“Earlier this morning wasn’t so bad,” Hermione said. “We’ll never have the same kind of
rapport that you do with them, but we can get along peaceful enough.”
She swept her hand, gesturing to the book and pile of parchments. “I’ve told you. It just
turned bad when we had to deal with Voldemort again. Things will be better once this is out
of the way. You’ll see.”
Harry wanted to believe her. It wasn’t that he expected everyone to get along. Not really. But
he hated being put into situations where he was forced to choose between them. How could
he, when they were all important to him?
Severus and Hermione had put him into that kind of situation, and he’d not reacted well.
None of them had. It had turned ugly, fast. They’d all reverted to past behaviours and
attitudes.
“I’m not sure Severus will forgive me,” he said. “He’s not very happy with me right now, and
you know how he holds grudges.” He sighed. “I’m not exactly the model child.”
Ron snorted loudly. “Snape’s not exactly the model parent, either,” he said. “Lupin, yes, I can
see that. Snape, he’s a bloody irritating bastard.”
“You’re not helping, Ron,” Hermione said irritably.
But Harry smiled ruefully. “He’s an irritating bastard, but he treats me all right now,” he said.
His face fell. “Well, mostly. I was back to being Mr. Potter earlier.”
“What exactly did he say?” Hermione asked.
Harry told her what had been said, not that there’d actually been many words spoken.
“Oh, Harry,” Hermione sighed. “He doesn’t expect you to turn into Percy,” she said.
Ron clenched his jaw and Harry was surprised she’d dared to bring up Percy’s name.
Hermione darted an apologetic glance at Ron, but continued.
“Snape was angry because I wasn’t showing him proper respect,” Hermione explained. “And
unfortunately, he took it out on you. I think everyone’s avoiding speaking to each other,
afraid of upsetting you more than you already are. Everyone knows that if we attack each
other, it’s going to upset you. I’m realizing now that it means you’re getting the brunt of
everyone’s frustration.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Severus isn’t afraid of anything,” he said. “If he’s angry at you, you
know it.”
“But Snape is afraid,” Hermione said softly. “He’s afraid of what effect this will have on you.
He knows how much you don’t want to Obliviate us. I think he’s probably angry with Ron
and I for putting you in this position. And Dumbledore and Voldemort. He’s angry about all
of it.”
“If he’s holding a grudge at all at the moment, it’s probably against Dumbledore,” she said.
“For allowing you to tell us about the Horcruxes in the first place. If he hadn’t, then you
wouldn’t be in this position now.”
“I needed your help, though,” Harry said, staring at the pile of paper in front of him. He and
Ron had written some of the notes, but the majority of what he could see was Hermione’s
handwriting. Ron’s straightforward, steady support had helped carry them both through.
“I feel like I’m belittling your accomplishments if I Obliviate you,” he said. “It’s not right
that you’re not getting more credit for everything you’ve done. It’s bad enough that everyone
else can’t know exactly what you’ve done. For me to take away your memories of what
you’ve done? It’s not fair.”
He glanced at Ron, but quickly averted his gaze. “I don’t want you to resent me for this,” he
said.
“I won’t,” Ron said. “I don’t want the attention you get. I used to, but not anymore. You pay
a high price for your fame. Fame you don’t even want.”
“And Hermione and me, we’ve got recognition from the Order,” he said proudly. “They don’t
even know what we’ve done, but they’ve thanked us for our part in defeating Vol –
Voldemort. And Mum and Dad, they’re proud of me.”
Harry was surprised, but pleased. Also a little amused. Ron still struggled with saying
Voldemort’s name.
“I’m only going to be losing the bad parts,” Ron continued. “I’m all right with this.”
“Shall we get started, then?” Hermione questioned.
Nodding, Harry lit the fire. Exchanging glances, they each took up some of the parchment
and began tossing it into the flames. He hesitated before throwing the diary into the fire. It
had played such an important role. Gave him so many answers.
He tossed it into the flames and watched it burn. It was the end of an era. The last relic of
Voldemort. He’d not expected to feel such satisfaction as it turned to ash.
Hermione cast a couple of spells, ensuring that the materials were burned completely and
couldn’t be pieced back together in any way.
“It’s over,” Ron said.
“It was rather cathartic,” Hermione agreed. “You all right, Harry?”
“Yeah,” Harry said, shrugging. “What happened to the actual Horcruxes?” he asked suddenly.
“Ron and I destroyed them,” Hermione admitted. “Kingsley collected them when they were
cleaning up the site of the battle and gave them to Snape. He then brought us to the Ministry,
at Snape’s request.”
Harry’s brows were raised in surprise as he listened to Hermione explain.
“It was strange,” she continued. “Snape didn’t ask us anything, really. He just ordered us to
deal with them. We tried to tell him that there wasn’t anything that needed to be done with
them, so that’s when he told us to obliterate them.”
“Taught us spells to do it,” Ron added.
Hermione nodded. “He even ordered Kingsley to take us back through the Vanishing
Cabinets so we could obliterate Nagini’s remains,” she said. She shuddered violently. “Ron
did that one.”
“I do hate snakes,” Ron said, grimacing in disgust.
“Not all snakes are bad,” Harry automatically defended.
“That one was,” Ron said flatly, and Harry nodded in acknowledgement.
“And the Vanishing Cabinets?” Harry asked.
Ron snorted, amused. “Kingsley shrunk them, took them to Snape. Snape gave them to
Malfoy, who called for Winky and gave them to her. She brought them here, and they’re in
your trunk,” he said.
Harry blinked, trying to sort through all that. “I have them?”
Grinning, Ron nodded.
“All right,” Harry said bemusedly.
“I bet we could use them for some wicked pranks,” Ron said.
“Ron!” Hermione exclaimed, scandalized.
“What?” Ron said defensively. “We wouldn’t do anything dangerous with them.”
Hermione glared at him, before rounding on Harry. “You wouldn’t,” she said.
Harry smiled innocently.
“Harry!” she shrieked.
He rolled his eyes. “I don’t plan on using them for anything,” he said. And if he did plan
anything, he’d remember to not tell Hermione about it. When Hermione rounded on Ron
again, Harry winked at him behind her back.
“Do you hear that?” Hermione demanded. “Harry’s being responsible.”
“Yeah, responsible,” Ron managed to say with a straight face.
Harry knew Ron wouldn’t be able to maintain it for long and changed the subject.
“So, speaking of being responsible, do you reckon we should Obliviate your memories
now?” he asked.
Hermione frowned at him suspiciously, certainly wondering why he was suddenly ready to
do it, when he’d been so opposed to it all morning. He’d said it to distract her, but he realized
that he was ready to do it. As ready as he’d ever be and, like Ron, he wanted to get it over
with.
“Do you reckon we should do it here?” Ron asked, his eyes wide. “Now?”
“Um,” Hermione was uncertain as well. “Are you sure you’re ready, Harry?”
“I’ve learned the spells properly, if that’s what you’re asking,” he said dryly. “I’m still no
happier with doing this, but ready to do it anyway.”
“I’m becoming rather familiar with moral dilemmas,” he added, thinking about what he’d
done to Pettigrew. He shrugged. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
“Should we tell Snape first?” Hermione asked nervously.
“After the way he treated you?” Harry asked in disbelief.
“But he was just worried about you,” Hermione said. She swallowed, hard. “Maybe he
should be ready. You know, just in case.”
“No,” Ron cut in firmly. “Snape and Lupin’ll be there for him, but we trust Harry to do this
right. We can do this.”
Hermione slowly nodded, taking calming breaths. “All right,” she agreed.
“Me first,” Ron volunteered.
Pointing his wand at his best friend, with so much on the line, was one of the most difficult
risks he’d taken in his life. He cast the spells, watching as Ron’s expression turned vacant.
Hermione gently urged Ron to lie down, turning him sideways on the couch.
Once he was settled, she sat down on the other couch and turned her face to Harry’s
resolutely. “Me next,” she said, her voice only the slightest bit shaky.
Nauseated, Harry forced himself to concentrate. He would not fail at this. Once again he cast
the spells. He gently helped Hermione to lie down.
Stepping back, he stared down at them. He was positive their vacant stares would haunt him
for the rest of his life.
Taking down the wards, he walked out to the kitchen. He was surprised to see Fred and
George sitting at the table along with everyone else. All of them looked up at him when he
entered, silence falling over the room.
Draco stood. “Harry, are you all right?” he asked.

Harry nodded, afraid to open his mouth.
“You have already performed the spells?” Severus asked sharply.
Waving vaguely behind him, Harry nodded again.
Severus, Remus and Narcissa were up instantly, rushing to the potions room to check on Ron
and Hermione. Harry stepped out of the way and watched them go.
“Harry?” Draco said hesitantly, gently touching his arm to get his attention.
Harry stared blankly at him for a few moments before he ran to the nearest toilet. His lunch
was no more pleasant coming up than it had been going down. He reflected bitterly that the
meal had been doomed from start to finish.
“So much for being ready for this,” he muttered.
He pressed his forehead to the cool porcelain, trying to remind himself that Ron and
Hermione had wanted him to do this. They would be all right and back to normal within a
few hours.
“C’mon, Harry,” Draco urged, pulling him to his feet. “You don’t want to stay in here.”
Harry mechanically cleaned himself up, wiping his face and rinsing his mouth before staring
at himself in the mirror over the sink. He knew that if his friends didn’t recover, he’d never
be able to look at himself again.
There was a knock at the door, causing him to jump.
“Go away,” Draco snarled.
“Open the door, Draco,” Lucius commanded.
“Sometimes I hate my father,” Draco muttered under his breath.
Harry turned around, smiling faintly at Draco. “My hero, trying to protect me from your
father,” he said.
Draco smiled ruefully. “All right?” he asked.
“No,” Harry admitted honestly.
“Draco,” Lucius said, rapping sharply on the door.
“Better let him in,” Harry said.
Opening the door, Draco glared at his father.
Lucius arched a brow at Draco’s attitude. His gaze flicked to Harry, visually assessing his
state of health.
He handed Harry a potion vial. “To calm your stomach,” he said.
Accepting it gratefully, Harry downed it quickly, grimacing at the taste. There was something
wrong about a foul-tasting potion being good for a queasy stomach.
“Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley are resting comfortably,” he said. “They’ve been moved to
the spare bedroom and are currently being watched over by the Weasley siblings.”
Harry’s eyes closed as relief washed over him. He’d been terrified that he’d done something
wrong. Lucius had taken away the need to try to force the words past his lips to actually ask
if they were all right.
His eyes snapped back open. “The twins and Ginny, they know what I did?” he asked.
“Yes, Severus elected to inform them,” Lucius said. “It was felt best that they were aware as
there could be continued moments of confusion for some time to come. They will be able to
help allay suspicion if such moments should occur around others.”
“Especially Weasley’s mother,” Draco muttered.
“Mrs. Weasley wouldn’t be happy with any of us if she knew,” Harry admitted, feeling
queasy at just the thought of her fury. He didn’t think she was likely to understand something
like this.
“Are . . . Ginny and the twins . . .”
“They accept it,” Lucius said.
Harry nodded gratefully.
“C’mon,” Draco said, grabbing Harry’s hand and pulling him from the bathroom. “You’re not
going to feel better until you see them.”
Whatever Harry had expected when he entered the spare bedroom, what he witnessed was not
it. He gaped at the occupants of the room.
“Harry!” Fred exclaimed.
“Malfoy!” George said joyfully.
“Glad you decided to join us,” said Fred cheerfully.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, the scene before him was still the
same.
“Is that Crabbe and Goyle?” he asked.
George made a show of looking at his watch. “Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one.”
With a pop, Crabbe and Goyle appeared where previously there had been two very large, very
orange, squirrels.
“Chattering Chocolates,” Fred said proudly.
“Why were they orange?” Harry asked.
“Because Ron likes the colour orange,” George said, as if the answer was obvious.
“Of course,” Harry said weakly.
He looked to Ron, who did appear to be very appreciative. Ron and Hermione were sitting up
in separate beds, both of them still giggling at the transformations they’d just witnessed.
Remus was smiling indulgently, watching the activity from a chair between the two beds.
“They’re all right,” Remus said. “They’re just a little disoriented,” he said in reassurance. He
glanced around the room. “But it seemed wise not to leave them alone with this lot.”
Harry nodded. There was no telling what Fred and George might do to take advantage of the
situation. Ron and Hermione did make very vulnerable targets. Hopefully, too vulnerable.
Instead, they’d targeted Crabbe and Goyle. But as Harry continued to watch, Crabbe and
Goyle had their heads together with Fred and George, appearing to eagerly make their next
selection of sweets from a box Fred was holding.
He stared in amazement as Crabbe and Goyle willingly popped pink sweets into their mouth.
They savoured them for a few seconds and shortly afterwards there were two pink pigs in
their place.
“Ooooh, piggies!” Hermione squealed in delight. “They’re so cute!”
“Oh gods,” Harry breathed, unsure if he was more horrified with Hermione’s behaviour or
the pigs.
“Piggie Pasties,” George announced.
“In honour of dearest Dudley,” Fred explained.
Harry continued to stare for a few moments before he finally let out a burst of laughter. He
would love to leave some Piggie Pasties lying about for Dudley to eat. They were perfect.
Fred and George beamed. Harry glanced at Draco, who was smirking smugly in satisfaction.
“You brought them here to cheer me up, didn’t you?” Harry accused quietly.
“Possibly,” Draco said, not committing himself. “Let’s go sit down and enjoy the show.”
Blaise and Ginny were sitting off to the side on a couch that Harry was fairly certain was
transfigured from one of the empty beds, as it was extra large. There was plenty of room for
Harry and Draco to sit on the other end.
“All right, Harry?” Ginny asked softly.
“Better,” Harry answered, glancing at Ron and Hermione. He’d be even better when they
were back to normal.
His attention was drawn back to the twins and Crabbe and Goyle as, with a distinct pop, the
pigs turned human again.
“Good?” Fred questioned them.
They nodded. “What’s next?” Crabbe asked.
George shook his head at Draco in disappointment. “Malfoy, why did you neglect to inform
us of these wonderful, amazing testers?”
“Good testers are so difficult to find,” Fred agreed.
“You’re enjoying yourselves?” Harry blurted out before Draco could answer. He couldn’t
fathom enjoying being on the receiving end of the twins’ products.
“It’s loads more fun than Pansy’s pranks,” Goyle answered.
“It’s interesting to see what will happen,” Crabbe added.
“Do it again!” Ron interjected loudly.
“It’s also keeping Ron and Hermione entertained,” Ginny said dryly.
Harry grimaced. “Are they going to remember this?” he asked. “Hermione especially is not
going to be happy to find out she was squealing about piggies.”
“She will become more coherent as the day wears on,” Remus said. “And yes, she will
gradually realize what she’s been doing all day.”
“Shouldn’t we just let them sleep or something?” Harry asked. “I thought they’d need to
rest.”
“We are keeping them bedridden for the day,” Remus said. “But they are not particularly tired
and Dreamless Sleep could actually harm them under the circumstances.”
Harry nodded reluctantly, reminding himself to stay away from Hermione for awhile once
she was feeling better. He settled in with Draco and prepared to simply watch the show. It
was certainly more pleasant than worrying.
“You know, Victoria would love the animals,” he observed. “Is she back in the nursery?”
“As no one was certain what you were doing, or what the results would be, yes, it was
deemed safer to send Victoria back to the nursery,” Draco said. “Besides, it had been time for
her afternoon nap. She’s likely awake now, though.”
“Oh,” Harry said. It was a wonder that he ever kept track of anything. Every day seemed to
involve some crisis or another. Whatever the current crisis was, that was his focus until it was
past. He could only hope that things would finally start to calm down.
“I’m going to go get her,” he said decisively. “I’ll be right back.”
“You best be right back,” Draco drawled, an edge of warning in his voice.
“I will be,” Harry promised, giving Draco a quick kiss. He knew Draco was worried and
preferred to keep Harry in sight under the current circumstances.
He kept his promise, retrieving Victoria from the nursery and carrying her back to the other
room. He paused, however, in the hallway.
“I’d hoped I could give you a normal childhood,” he said to her. “I’m not sure that’s possible,
though.”
She stuck her fingers in his mouth, and he captured them, making her giggle and try to pull
her hand away again. He released her fingers.
“I’m trying to talk to you,” he chided, laughing.
“Daddy,” she said, managing to snag onto a lock of his hair instead as he shook his head.
“Yeah, Daddy,” he said. “I am doing my best, you know. But not much in my life is normal. I
don’t think there’s been a single normal day since you and your daddy showed up on my
doorstep. Hell, I don’t even know what normal means anymore.”
“Sorry, I reckon Severus is right and I’m going to have to start watching my language around
you,” he said. “If I’m starting to understand a little of your babble, you’re probably starting to
understand some of mine.”
“Dow,” Victoria said, beginning to squirm.
“See, I know that means you want down,” he said. “You don’t feel like listening to me talk,
do you?”
“Dow!” Victoria demanded.
Harry snorted. “You’re definitely a Malfoy,” he said. “Well, come on, then. Not sure why I’m
worried about not being normal enough for you, what with you being a Malfoy. Since when
have Malfoys ever gone for anything so common as normal.”
He didn’t see Narcissa silently turning to head back downstairs with a smile on her face as he
headed back to his friends.
He was greeted by two bright purple squirrels and a lot of laughter.
“Purple?!” he exclaimed. Victoria appreciated them, though, squealing with delight and
stretching to try to reach them.
One of them, Harry didn’t dare try to guess who, came close enough for Victoria to pet.
Harry automatically admonished her to be gentle, trying to ignore the sheer oddity of what
was happening.
“I want to pet one!” Hermione pouted.
“Me, too!” Ron exclaimed.
Odd did not begin to adequately describe the situation.
“Chocolates are often packaged as a variety,” Fred explained, ignoring the fact that the other
squirrel had moved to permit Hermione her request.
“Rather than a variety of fillings, Chattering Chocolates come in a variety of colours,”

George continued.
“It’s a surprise in every one,” Fred finished.
Harry wasn’t sure if he should be disturbed by the fact that he actually understood that
explanation. He was more concerned about Ron and Hermione’s childlike behaviour. He was
used to the twins behaving like children.
He handed off the actual child to Draco, who was shaking with laughter, and moved to speak
with Remus.
“Ten seconds,” George announced and the squirrels bounded back to the middle of the room.
Harry blinked. He reckoned it wouldn’t do to have them return to normal and leave Hermione
and Ron petting Crabbe and Goyle. He shuddered, turning his back on all of them.
“Remus, why are they acting like this?” he asked.
“Because they enjoy pranks,” Remus answered dryly.
Harry rolled his eyes. “Not them,” he said. “Ron and Hermione. Why are they acting so . . .
young?”
“Memory modification has a tendency to cause people to revert back to more childlike
behaviour,” Remus said. “It’s more pronounced with the more memories that have been
modified.”
“They’ve had a lot of memories erased,” Harry muttered.
“I know,” he said, before Remus could correct him. “They’ve not actually been erased, just
adjusted.”
He’d already been lectured on that distinction. It was one of his mistakes that had sent
Hermione and Severus into a tizzy that morning. He was thinking he’d have appreciated it
more if they’d thought to spend more time explaining what the effects would be afterwards.
The focus, though, had been on getting the spells done right in the first place.
Remus smiled in understanding before continuing his explanation. “The mind is a curious
thing,” he said. “Research with memory spells has shown that the mind tends to revert to
simpler interactions with the outside world as it adjusts to the new parameters that have been
placed by the spell.”
“There is an initial period of adjustment where the mind can shut down interaction with the
outside world entirely, depending on the severity of the spell,” he said. “Gradually, as the
mind processes what it sees as new information, the individual will return to normal.”
Thinking about it, Harry realized that maybe he should’ve expected something like this. He’d
seen Lockhart when his memory had been modified so severely. But then, Lockhart had often
acted like a child even before it happened. Luckily, this wasn’t nearly as bad as that, and it
had been done with proper spells and an intact wand, but it was certainly bad enough.
“So, Ron and Hermione were probably like this when they were little?” he asked.
“Most likely,” Remus agreed. “They will recover just fine, Harry. You may stop worrying.”
“Yeah, all right,” Harry sighed.
He rejoined Draco and the others and tried to relax. Fred and George were the best when it
came to distractions. Victoria certainly loved them. Or the results of their products, at any
rate. She delighted in the parade of animals, clapping excitedly.
The twins entertained all of them for hours. Winky served them dinner where they were,
keeping things as relaxed as possible. It was the exact opposite of lunch, pleasant and light-
hearted.
Harry never intended to tell Hermione, but it was interesting to watch as she slowly regained
her sense of self. One minute she would be giggling and cooing like Victoria and the next she
would be blushing furiously as she remembered that she wouldn’t normally act that way.
Her irritation with the twins became more pronounced and more frequent as the day wore on.
Ron was just as prone to fits of giggles before extreme embarrassment. Ron and Hermione
would surely be upset will all of them once this was over, but Harry was certain that no one
would ever tease them about it.
All of them were aware that Ron and Hermione were making a sacrifice, even if they didn’t
know what that sacrifice was precisely. Harry slumped dejectedly, reminded that he was the
only person who did know.
Draco shot him a look of concern. “Lay down,” he said, patting his leg.
Harry stretched out comfortably with his head in Draco’s lap. It had been another emotionally
exhausting day.
“Maybe we should go to bed,” Draco suggested.
“I can’t,” Harry said. “I want to stay here.”

“There’s nothing you can do,” Draco pointed out. “And they are about back to normal.”
“I know, but . . . what if they wake up during the night and get confused,” he said. “They’ve
never stayed here before – well, not when it was like this – and they might not remember.
Someone should be here to remind them.”
“And that someone should be you,” Draco said dryly.
“It’s my fault they’re like this,” Harry said.
Draco sighed in resignation. “Fine, so we’re sleeping in here tonight.”
Harry blinked as Fred dropped to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of them.
“So, did I hear we’re having a sleepover?” Fred asked brightly.
“Um . . . ” Harry suddenly remembered Fred and George’s neon pyjamas. “Depends on what
pyjamas you decide to wear,” he said.
Fred grinned widely. “No worries, mate,” he said. “We’ve got some new ones I’m sure you’ll
love.”
“Not like those disgustingly, horridly bright things, I hope,” Draco said.
“They’re not bright and you’re sure to love them,” Fred insisted. “We’ve been saving them
for just such an occasion.”
Ginny plonked down next to her brother, resting against him. “Are you lot discussing
pyjamas?” she asked before yawning widely.
“Er, yeah,” Harry said absently. “Why are you so tired? It’s not that late is it?”
Narcissa had retrieved Victoria to get her ready for bed, but it was still fairly early as far as he
was aware.
“I haven’t been getting a lot of sleep lately,” she admitted. “In fact, I’m not sure anyone’s
been able to sleep well this last week.”
He felt the pointed stares of Ginny, Fred and Draco. “Oh,” he said as he realized they’d been
worried about him.
“Yes ‘oh’,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes.
“Sorry,” he said. “There wasn’t much I could do about it.”
“You’re an idiot, Harry,” Draco said, but Harry could hear the fondness in his voice.
“Why am I an idiot now?” he questioned.

“Because you’re apologizing for something you had absolutely no control over,” Draco said.
“I reckon it’s better than saying it serves you right for worrying about the Boy Who Lived,”
Harry retorted.
Draco whacked him lightly on the side of the head and Harry shared grins with Fred and
Ginny. He shifted to look up at Draco.
“You know I’m happy you’ve been worried about me, right?” he said, still smiling.
“Yes, I know, you prat,” Draco said, unable to resist smiling in return. “I’m glad we’re home,
even if you won’t let us sleep in our own bed.”
“Ah, yes, bed. We mustn’t forget pyjamas,” Fred declared, getting to his feet. “George, I do
believe it is time for a kitchen raid.”
“Are we having a sleepover?” George asked, looking excited.
“Yes, indeed,” said Fred. “It shall be the most fun.”
“Harry, you’ve the oddest friends,” Draco said.
“They’re your friends as well,” Harry pointed out.
Draco grimaced. “Must I claim them?” he asked.
“You must,” Harry said, mock-seriously.
“Very well,” Draco sighed.
Ginny giggled. “And you two are the oddest, yet sweetest, couple I know,” she said.
“Sweetest?” Draco said indignantly.
“You’re all right with being odd but have a problem with being sweet?” Harry asked, brow
raised.
“Yes!” Draco exclaimed.
Ginny collapsed into a fit of giggles.
“What’d you do to her?” Blaise asked curiously, sitting down beside Ginny.
“Just Draco being odd,” Harry said flatly, causing another burst of giggles.
“But I’m not sweet,” Draco was quick to point out.
Blaise shook his head, clearly deciding he didn’t want to know. “You’re spending the night
here, aren’t you?” he asked Ginny.
She nodded, getting her giggles under control. “Mum sent back clothes for me as well when
Lupin went to talk her into letting Ron and Hermione stay the night,” she said.
They glanced over at Ron and Hermione. Hermione had joined Ron on his bed at some point
and they were talking quietly. They appeared to be back to normal, and Harry was fairly
certain they were now trying to sort out what they did and didn’t know.
He knew why Fred, George and Ginny were staying. No one was saying it out loud, but they
were also worried about Ron and Hermione.
“Are you going to go talk to them?” Ginny asked.
“I should,” Harry admitted. He didn’t want to, though.
“Just go,” Draco said, shoving Harry lightly. “They’ve had enough time by themselves to sort
things out.”
Harry reluctantly left his comfortable spot on the couch and approached his best friends.
Hermione smiled and patted the bed beside her. He blinked at her in surprise.
“Did you think we were angry with you?” she asked.
“Maybe a little,” he admitted. “I probably would be if I was in your position.”
“We’re not angry, mate,” Ron said. “It’s just bloody weird.”
“It’s strange,” Hermione agreed. “I know what happened, but at the same time, it feels like
I’ve forgotten things.” She frowned for a moment before smiling ruefully. “I have forgotten
things. If there was an exam, I would be in a serious state of panic right about now.”
Harry and Ron laughed. “It’s not funny, you two,” she said, but she was smiling and tugging
on Harry’s arm to get him to sit down. Harry propped himself up against the footboard,
facing them.
He bit at his lip nervously, trying to figure out how to ask what he wanted to know. “Do you
feel like you’re missing a lot?” he finally asked.
They frowned at him, but considered his question seriously before answering.
“Not really,” Ron said. “I mean, some memories are a little fuzzier than others, but all my
memories are like that.”
“Um, that made no sense,” Harry said.
“Do you remember every word spoken of every conversation we’ve ever had?” Hermione
asked.
“No, of course not,” Harry said.

“Neither do we,” Hermione said. “It doesn’t feel any different from forgetting other things
we’ve said to each other. Except that, in this case, we know that we’ve intentionally forgotten
some things.”
“Which makes me curious as to what it was,” she admitted. “But if I wanted you to Obliviate
me, then it must’ve been extremely important.”
“’Course it was important,” Ron said. “It had to do with You Know Who, didn’t it?”
“Voldemort, yes,” Hermione agreed. “So, really, it’s obvious that knowing whatever it was
posed some kind of huge risk. It’s surely better this way.”
Harry smiled sadly. “Yeah, it’s better this way. I’m glad you’re all right.”
Ron snorted loudly. “All right, my arse,” he said. “We’ve been acting like bloody fools half
the day.”
“I can’t believe I asked to pet Goyle,” Hermione said, grimacing.
“Er, we felt it best to keep you from running around while you were recovering from the
spells,” Harry said. “Fred and George, well, they kept all of us distracted.”
“I know,” Hermione said, her voice coming as close to a whine as Harry had ever heard from
her. “But really, did I have to act so foolish?”
“Don’t hate me for saying this,” Harry said. “But it was actually kind of nice to see you
relaxed and acting silly for once. Especially after the year we’ve had, well, it was good to see
you with no worries.”
“Oh, Harry,” she said. “You’ve not stopped worrying at all, have you? You still have to deal
with whatever it is we’ve forgotten.”
“No, it’s been dealt with,” Harry said.
“But you have to remember it,” she said.
Harry sighed. “Yeah, but it doesn’t matter now. It’s over. All of it.”
*****
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Notes

Chapter Fifty-Seven
Lying on his side with Draco wrapped around him, Harry woke slowly to the sound of voices.
It took him a few seconds to remember that they’d all slept in the same room. Ron and
Hermione had been fine and the night before had been rather fun. All of them had stayed up
late, sitting around in their pyjamas, eating sweets and drinking butterbeer, simply talking.
He’d been having fun, but he’d been so tired that it had been difficult at times to stay awake.
He had the feeling he’d fallen asleep first, as he couldn’t remember going to bed.
He kept his eyes shut as he listened to his friends.
“They’re cute, aren’t they?” came the sound of Hermione’s voice.
“Cute?!” That was definitely Ron.
“Well, Malfoy insists that they’re not sweet.” Ginny’s voice had the ring of practical reason.
“Cute describes them as well.”
“What Ginny’s really thinking is that they’re hot,” came Blaise’s dry voice.
“Hot?!” Ron echoed Harry’s thoughts. “Ginny, what are you thinking? That’s Harry and
Malfoy!” There was a pause. “And aren’t you her boyfriend?”
“Why does being her boyfriend render me blind?”
“You’re not gay!”
“Why does being straight render me blind?”
Harry could feel Draco shaking, suppressing laughter. Blaise apparently decided to take pity
on Ron.
“I happen to appreciate beautiful things. Those two together are very beautiful.”
“And hot.” Ginny’s voice piped up.
“Beautiful?” Ron had turned questioning, rather than outraged, and obviously decided to
ignore Ginny. “You’re sure?”
“Oh, honestly, Ron! Surely even you can see that.”
“What if I don’t want to see it?”
“They’re not going to go away, are they?” Draco asked.
“I don’t think so,” Harry answered.
The room fell silent.
“Mmmm, at least it’s quiet again,” Draco murmured sleepily.
“Thanks, mates,” Fred and George called over their appreciation.
Harry wondered how they’d managed to do that one in unison, from different locations.
“Welcome,” he answered anyway.
The silence lasted for a full minute. Harry counted.
“Aren’t you going to get up?” Ron demanded.
“Who says I’m not already up?” Draco drawled.
“You’re not –” Ron stopped abruptly.
Harry could hear muffled laughter and a sharp inhale that was probably Hermione.
“Draco, was it really necessary to tell them that?” he asked.
“It’s true?!” Ron exclaimed. “Oh, Merlin,” he said, sounding faint. “I did not need to know
that.”
“It’s true if it’ll get you to leave us alone for a few minutes,” Draco said.
Harry knew perfectly well that Draco wasn’t hard. If he had been before Harry woke up, he
wasn’t at this point. Harry certainly wasn’t hard, knowing that all his friends were watching
them.
“Draco, quit teasing Ron,” he said. “We’re not going to allowed to go back to sleep, even if
you do manage to cause Ron to faint.”
“You’re no fun, Harry,” Draco said.
“I’ll remind you that you said that when we do wake up alone,” Harry said, smiling. He
wasn’t surprised when Draco finally moved, rolling Harry onto his back. He opened his eyes
to see Draco glaring at him from close range.
“Morning, love,” he said with a cheeky grin.
“Prat,” Draco said, before giving him a kiss.
“Sweet,” Ginny announced.
Draco sat up, growling. Harry sat up beside him.
“Time to start another day,” he said. He paused. “Normally the inquisition doesn’t start until
breakfast.”
“It’s not the first time that you’re not dressed for it, though,” Blaise said, smirking.
Harry tilted his head in acknowledgement. “I think it’s the first time Draco’s still in his
pyjamas for it,” he said.
“Since we appear to be doing the morning inquisition in bed,” Draco said, “what’s on the
agenda for today?”
“I don’t know,” Harry shrugged. “If I’m lucky, I’ve got a day off, but we know how well that
works out for me. I’m sure it would be asking far too much to actually have several days off.
In a row.”
Fred and George rolled out of bed and joined the others at the foot of the bed Harry and
Draco had shared for the night.
Draco winced. “I’d managed to forget what you were wearing,” he said.
In the light of a new day, Harry still thought the twins’ pyjamas were colourful. Although,
they were correct in stating that they weren’t bright. They were a slightly darker shade of
Slytherin green with deep silver snitches. What was most interesting was the fact that the
snitches zoomed around the fabric, in constant motion.
“Harry, you’re staring again,” Draco drawled.
“It’s difficult not to watch them,” Harry said defensively, caught being mesmerized by the
bloody snitches again. “It’s my job as a seeker.”
“If you start chasing those snitches, you’re in deep trouble,” Draco warned.
That managed to tear Harry’s attention away from the twins’ pyjamas. “Sorry,” he said
sheepishly, flushing at the loud laughter of the others.
“If we’d known how enthralled you’d be with them, Harry,” George said.
“We’d have got some for Malfoy,” Fred added.
“We simply hadn’t considered their potential as a new game for the bedroom,” George
finished.
At that, even Draco was laughing.
Harry flopped backwards onto the bed, jerking a pillow over his head. Draco snatched it
away from him.
“Have I told you lately that I hate you?” Harry asked.
“Not today,” Draco said, smirking.
“Oh, well, I hate you,” Harry said.
“I hate you, too,” Draco said fondly.
“You two are disgusting,” Ron said.
Ginny whacked him on the arm. “No, they’re sweet,” she said. “I’ve told you this.”
Harry sat up again, in case he needed to restrain Draco.
“Why are all of you standing there watching us?” Harry asked.
“Is there some reason you think we want to venture out alone with Snape on the loose?”
Ginny countered.
“What’s he going to do to you?” Harry asked. “Make you eat breakfast?”
Ron’s stomach rumbled loudly in response.
“See? Go eat,” Harry said. “Crabbe and Goyle must be down in the kitchen already.”
“Harry, they won’t even protect you from Snape, let alone protect us,” Hermione pointed out
dryly.
Draco sniggered. “Harry is on his own when it comes to Severus,” he agreed.
“We may have had our memories modified, but we haven’t forgotten the disaster that was
yesterday’s lunch,” Ron said.
“Oh hell,” Harry muttered. He’d been focused on Ron and Hermione and had put all his other
worries aside.
“Don’t tell me you’d forgotten,” Hermione said incredulously.
“I fight with him every day,” Harry said defensively. “So, yeah, I kind of forgot that
yesterday was worse than normal.” He frowned. “Or back to normal – like it was before.”
“Oh hell,” he repeated. “I don’t want to go down there, either.”
Draco rolled his eyes. “You’re the brave Gryffindor, remember?” He shoved Harry out of
bed, who managed to land on his feet. “Come on, we’re showering in our own room.”
They showered and dressed quickly, back to meet the others within twenty minutes.
“I can’t believe you lot are too scared to go to breakfast without Harry,” Draco grumbled. He
eyed Ginny with Blaise’s arm around her waist. “Surely you would’ve survived with the
company you’re keeping.”
“It’s called being polite, Malfoy,” Ginny retorted. “I was waiting for the others.”
“Is that what we were doing?” Fred asked, sounding surprised.
“We thought we were simply waiting so we could have the fun observing everyone,” George
said.
Harry groaned. “We’re not serving popcorn for breakfast,” he said.
“Ah, Harry,” said Fred. “Malfoy’s right. You’re no fun.”
“Since when did I become boring?” Harry asked rhetorically. He should’ve known he’d
receive an answer anyway.
“Oh, we didn’t say you were boring, Harry,” George said.
“There’s more excitement around you than anyone else,” Fred agreed.
“But it’s not always fun,” George pointed out. “You’ve been entirely too serious lately and
that must be rectified.”
“What if Harry’s idea of fun isn’t the same as yours?” Hermione asked. It came out as a
question, but barely. She clearly believed that Harry couldn’t possible enjoy the same things
as the twins.
“Oh, it’s the same,” said Fred. “Harry’s just smart enough not to admit it in front of you. You
heartless, prankster-stopping, rule-enforcing you.”
“Never been a better prefect than Hermione,” George said proudly.

Ron and Harry exchanged glances, trying not to laugh, as Hermione attempted to decide
whether to be insulted or not.
They’d reached the kitchen and poured into the room. There was a chorus of good morning’s
as they took their seats. Harry directed a slightly questioning good morning at Severus and
received a small, but wry smile in return.
Harry beamed a smile at him, happy that Severus had apparently forgiven him for the fiasco
of the day before. Everything seemed so much better this morning, now that the stress was
over regarding what he’d done to Ron and Hermione.
“How are you feeling this morning?” Narcissa asked them.
Hermione blinked at her, surprised by the concern in Narcissa’s voice. “We feel fine, thank
you,” she answered politely. “It’s actually not as unpleasant as I had feared.”
“It would have been more unpleasant if you had a less competent spell caster,” Narcissa said
in understanding.
Harry listened in amazement as the two of them began discussing the pros and cons of
memory spells. Remus soon joined them in the conversation.
“Everything my mother taught me, she’s now thrown out the window,” Draco murmured near
Harry’s ear. “It’s all your fault, you know.”
Harry wasn’t sure how to respond. Draco thankfully didn’t sound upset about it. Rather, he
sounded amused. It was kind of funny, and a huge surprise, to see the woman who’d
professed to hate mudbloods, now speaking congenially with Hermione.
“She’s not thrown everything out,” Harry said suddenly, leaning closer to whisper to Draco.
“She’s kept those bloody manners things. They appear to overrule everything else.”
Laughing, Draco kissed Harry on the cheek before turning to his breakfast. Severus was
shaking his head in resignation, having overheard them. Harry grinned widely before digging
in.
“Daddy!” Victoria called loudly, capturing Harry and Draco’s attention. She was across the
table, somehow Remus again being delegated the task of feeding her. There’d been a lot of
shuffling with the different people present at mealtimes.
“Yes, Victoria?” Draco drawled, eyebrow arched questioningly.
Harry rolled his eyes at Draco’s attitude. “Good morning, pumpkin,” he said. “Enjoying
breakfast?”
“Nana,” Victoria said, waving a plump fist full of squished banana.
“You’re proud that you’ve suckered Remus into some banana, aren’t you?” Harry said dryly.
Victoria sent him a wide grin, before stuffing the banana in her mouth, fist and all.
“She is a Malfoy,” Narcissa said, looking at Harry. “She does know what she likes, and I do
believe she will tell us if there is something she does not like.”
Harry frowned at Narcissa suspiciously. Had she heard him talking to Victoria the day
before? “So, no worries if she doesn’t like normal things?” he asked.
Narcissa smiled. “No, no worries,” she agreed.
He smiled ruefully, feeling embarrassed that she’d heard him, but reassured all the same.
“Thank you,” he said.
“You’re welcome, Harry,” she said.
“Merlin, you have cryptic conversations with everyone!” Draco exclaimed in exasperation.
“One of my many talents,” Harry quipped, generating laughter.
“It’s not one of your talents I appreciate,” Draco muttered darkly.
Harry arched a brow. “So, which talents do you appreciate?” he asked.
Draco’s sudden smirk was lascivious.
“No,” Severus cut in sharply. “I do not wish to hear it.”
“I was only going to say that Harry has an amazing talent for irritating professors,” Draco
said innocently.
“Quite impressive that you share the same talent,” Severus sneered.
“I’m afraid to imagine what your classes will be like this year,” Remus said.
“These two will be on their best behaviour,” Severus warned, glaring at Harry and Draco.
“Yes, sir,” they chorused dutifully. Harry wondered idly if Severus knew his glares weren’t
effective any more.
He glanced at his friends and corrected himself. Severus’ glares were obviously still effective
on some people. Ron, Hermione and Ginny didn’t look certain as to what Severus might do.
Fred and George were munching some bacon happily. Harry wondered if it was as satisfying
as popcorn and didn’t think it could be.
“You going to eat, Ron?” he asked.
“Oh, yeah,” Ron said, glancing at his plate as if it was the first time he’d seen it.
“Speaking of school, does anyone have any idea who is going to be named Head Boy and
Girl this year?” Blaise asked.
Hermione’s head perked up in interest. Harry popped some of his own bacon into his mouth,
unconcerned.
“It’ll probably be Harry and Hermione,” Ginny said.
“Not me,” Harry said. “I don’t want it.”
“Why not?” Hermione asked, scandalized at the very idea that he would turn down such a
position.
“It’d take away from my snogging time,” Harry said flippantly.
“Harry,” Hermione admonished. “It’s a position of honour.”
“I think I’ve had enough of that, thanks,” he said.
“I used to want it, but not anymore,” Ron said.
“Too much work, dear Ronniekins?” Fred asked.
“Or too much extra time listening to Hermione spout off about all the rules you shouldn’t be
breaking?” George questioned.
Ron scowled at them, but didn’t comment, casting a wary glance at Hermione. Harry knew
they were right on both counts. Hermione seemed to realize it as well, because she didn’t say
anything, either.
“I certainly don’t want the position,” Blaise said. “I have to agree with the sentiment that it’s
too much work.”
“What is wrong with you students?” Lucius drawled. “Being Head Boy used to be a coveted
position.”
“I don’t know about Ron and Blaise but, after fighting a war, I don’t find being Head Boy to
be such a thrill,” Harry said. “It sounds like more responsibility and I’m damned tired of
responsibility being heaped on my shoulders.”
“I wanted to be Head Boy, but I’ve ruined my chances,” Draco said bitterly, and Harry felt
bad for him. He knew Draco would’ve loved to have the coveted position, but it was difficult
to feel too sympathetic.
“Well, the rest of us are right glad you won’t get it,” he said.
“Thanks, Harry,” Draco snapped sarcastically. “Good to know I’ve got your support.”
“You’ve got my support,” Harry protested. “It has nothing to do with last year. I’m just not
thrilled with the idea of Mr. Champion of the Inquisitorial Squad being Head Boy. Merlin,
Draco! We can overcome what happened last spring. You’ve already made up for those
events by what you’ve done this summer.”
“But do you have any idea how much work it would take to undo the damage you did fifth
year?” he asked, unconsciously rubbing his thumb over the faint scars on his hand.
“I wasn’t that bad,” Draco protested. “Was I?” he questioned at Harry’s incredulous stare.
“Draco, I’m more upset with you following Umbridge than Voldemort,” Harry said.
“Why?” Draco asked, confused. “She wasn’t nearly as evil as the Dark Lord.”
“Near enough,” Harry said darkly.
“Harry, what is it we do not know?” Severus interjected suspiciously.
Harry glanced at him, then around the table at the others. Hermione and the Weasleys were
gazing at him sympathetically, but everyone else was watching him with wary curiosity and
concern.
“Well, it appears we’ve uncovered the difficult topic of the day,” he quipped.
“Harry,” Severus warned.
Rolling his eyes, Harry abandoned his breakfast and held his right hand up for Draco.
“What do you see?” he demanded.
Draco shot him a dirty look, but took Harry’s hand in his own. “There’s a pattern to the
scars?”
“They’ve faded,” Harry said. “You’ll have to look closely to read them.”
“Read them?” Draco murmured, but it had given him the clue he needed to make sense of the
faint lines. He looked up at Harry. “I must not tell lies.”
“Imprinted on my hand with a blood quill,” Harry said. “Courtesy of Umbridge.”
“Why did you not inform anyone?” Severus questioned sharply.
“Who was I supposed to tell?” Harry demanded. “Dumbledore wouldn’t even look at me fifth
year, McGonagall just kept telling me to keep my head down and my mouth shut, you were
being a nasty bastard and I would’ve likely just ended up in more detentions. You’ve always
thought I was lying to you. What reason did I have to think you’d believe me that time?”
“You foolish child,” Snape said.
“Why?” Harry said. “Are you trying to tell me that Dumbledore’s hands weren’t tied by the
Ministry?”
Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. “He would have found some way to stop it,” he said.
Harry snorted. “Yes, probably by switching my detentions to you and that would’ve been
loads better,” he said sarcastically.
“You stubbornly refused to allow her to torture you into submission,” Severus said
knowingly, ignoring Harry’s last comment.
“I certainly wasn’t going to let that toad win,” Harry agreed. “In a way, she was worse than
Voldemort. He was always the known evil. Umbridge was actually in Hogwarts, torturing
students and corrupting them without everyone being aware of it. Instead of Death Eaters, she
had her Inquisitorial Squad terrorizing everyone.”
“Except you, as usual,” Draco said dryly.
Harry shrugged. “You fucked things up for me as well, but no, I wasn’t scared of you,” he
admitted.
“So, do you, or do you not, believe Draco would do well in a position of leadership?”
Severus questioned. “You’ve said you support him now, but this discussion leads me to
believe otherwise.”
Harry glanced at Draco, feeling this was getting a little more personal than he was
comfortable with. It brought up Draco’s fears and faults, rather than his own, and it didn’t
feel right to talk about them in front of everyone. Severus wouldn’t allow him not to answer,
though, and Draco was gazing at him expectantly.
“Yes, I support Draco,” he answered, focusing on Severus. “I think Draco’s finally learned
what it’s like to be on the receiving end of torture and abuse of power. He’s grown up, just
like we all have, and I think he’d make a fabulous leader. I think he’d be strict and still be a
pain in the arse, but he’d do a hell of a lot better job than he’s done in the past.”
“But because of his history . . .” Severus said leadingly.
“Because of his history, he’s got a lot to overcome,” Harry said. “If he was put into a position
such as Head Boy, no one would respect his authority. No one would go to him for assistance.
He’d be resented by everyone for gaining such a position after being a bastard to everyone all
these years.”
“I must not tell lies, indeed,” Draco muttered. “Just tell it like it is, why don’t you, Harry?”
“Sorry,” Harry sighed.
Draco shook his head, silently telling him to drop it. Harry let the silence rein for a minute as
everyone resumed eating their breakfasts. But he couldn’t handle the tense silence again.
“Well, that was a nice mood-killer,” he announced pleasantly.
“Have you had better?” Fred asked politely, playing along with him.
“Oh, yes,” Harry said with false cheerfulness. “You should’ve been here yesterday for lunch.
I’m quite surprised you didn’t hear the deadly silence all the way into Diagon Alley.”
Draco let out a snort of amusement and Ginny soon followed with a light giggle. It wasn’t
long before all of them were laughing, releasing the built-up tension. Even Victoria picked up
on the mood change, clapping excitedly.
“Much better,” Remus said in approval.

“This is far more pleasant,” Narcissa agreed.
“So, shall we continue to discuss school, or try for a new topic?” Harry asked with a cheeky
grin.
“I’m curious to know when we’ll receive our letters,” Hermione said.
Ron groaned. “You had to give her a choice, didn’t you?”
“Sorry, mate,” Harry said, unrepentant. “Do you think Hermione’s registered that she’s
having breakfast with three of her professors?”
Ron and Hermione both blinked at him in surprise.
Harry smirked at them. “I’ll take that as a no, then,” he said.
“I – I’d forgotten,” Hermione admitted, chagrined. “How could I have forgotten?”
“Meet Professor Malfoy, instructor of Potions,” Harry said, gesturing to Lucius. He waved to
Narcissa. “And Professor Malfoy, instructor of Transfigurations.”
He sent a wicked smirk in Severus’ direction. “I believe you all know and love the wondrous
Professor Snape, returning to his post as instructor of Defence Against the Dark Arts.”
“Mr. Potter,” Severus said silkily. “I am quite certain you will do something that will earn
you detention on the first day back.”
“Probably,” Harry agreed.
The twins’ laughter caught his attention and he turned to look at Ron. Ron was absolutely
horrified.
“All right, who scared Ron?” Harry asked.
“You did,” Hermione said dryly, looking a little horrified herself. “I’m not certain this will be
a pleasant year for Gryffindors.”
Harry grimaced. “Yeah, I know,” he said.
“We will be fair,” Narcissa said.
Harry gaped at her in disbelief. “Have you by any chance met Professor Snape?” he asked. “I
know you know Severus, but what about Professor Snape?”
“They’re the same person,” Draco drawled, but the git was clearly amused.
“No, they’re not,” Harry said flatly. “I still can’t reconcile the Prince with Snape, either. I can
reconcile him with Severus, but not Snape.”
“Are you quite finished talking about me?” Severus asked snidely.
“No, but if you’d like, we can go back to doing it behind your back,” Harry said, earning
himself a fierce glower which reminded him that Severus could still scare him. “Or not,” he
said.
He rediscovered his backbone moments after he’d lost it. “It’s not like you’ve never talked
about me behind my back,” he retorted.
The gasps around the table were not particularly reassuring, but Harry held his ground as he
met Severus’ gaze steadily. Severus didn’t have that same icy air about him like he had the
day before and Harry was feeling much more confident in himself.
“Harry,” Draco hissed. “Would you please shut up before Severus decides to kill you?”
“No, Harry is correct,” Severus said.
“And you’re admitting it?!” Draco exclaimed in disbelief. His eyes widened and he snapped
his mouth shut with an audible clack.
“You are aware, Draco, that there have been extenuating circumstances which have
exacerbated relations between Harry and myself,” Severus said evenly.
Draco simply nodded.
Severus transferred his piercing stare back to Harry. “I would prefer that anything you have
to say, you say directly to me,” he said. “And I shall endeavour to do the same.”
Harry followed Draco’s lead and simply nodded. He’d pushed his limits far enough.
There was another minute of silence before Fred spoke up.
“How does anyone get any food eaten around here?” he asked.
“It’s a challenge at times,” Draco said dryly.
The ensuing silence was more comfortable as everyone concentrated on their meals, casting
warming and cooling charms as needed.
Harry waited until everyone was about finished before speaking again. “So, what do I have to
do today?” he asked.
“Ah, the daily ritual,” Draco said with mock-fondness. “It did feel terribly wrong to conduct
it while still in bed.”
“Shut up, Draco,” Harry said, gazing expectantly at Severus and desperately hoping there
was nothing he had to do.
“There are a couple of items we need to discuss,” Severus said.
“What is it?” Harry asked, sighing in resignation.

“On Saturday, there is to be a celebration at Hogwarts,” Severus said.
He’d captured everyone’s interest.
“There will be others present as well, but it is my understanding that it is mainly for those
who fought in the final battle,” he explained. “As many of the same people are involved, it is
also to be considered a celebration of the eldest Weasley’s wedding.”
“I kind of interrupted their reception,” Harry admitted.
“You did?” Lucius drawled sardonically. “I do believe it was the Dark Lord’s doing.”
“Well, yeah,” Harry agreed. “But I’m glad they’ll get a second chance to have the reception.”
“It will be far more than a reception,” Severus said dryly. “This is a celebration of the Dark
Lord’s defeat, for those of us who were unable to celebrate when the rest of the Wizarding
world did because we were still dealing with the repercussions of the event.”
It was quiet for a few seconds as everyone processed the news, the students exchanging grins.
“We love a good party,” the twins said in unison, grinning manically.
“I am certain you do,” Severus said with a grimace. “I have been requested to ask if you
would be interested in presenting a fireworks display.”
“Of course!” they agreed immediately.
“I will pass on word of your acceptance,” Severus said, not completely managing to keep the
sneer out of his voice.
Harry exchanged grins with Draco, already looking forward to the celebration.
“There is one other item we need to discuss,” Severus said, moving on quickly. He reached
into his robes and pulled out several envelopes.
“Our Hogwarts letters?” Harry voiced their surprise.
Severus nodded as he began handing them out. Harry opened his, reading the letter and
skimming over the list of supplies. It was pretty much the same as usual, and there were no
OWLs the year before or anything.
He was unsurprised when Hermione started squealing excitedly and he looked up, smiling at
her.
“Head Girl?” he asked, already certain of the answer.
She nodded, beaming happily.
“Congratulations,” he said. “It’s deserved.”
She flushed, her excitement tangible as the others began congratulating her as well.
Harry turned his attention to Draco, who was simply staring at his envelope. “You going to
open that?” he asked softly.
“I didn’t think I’d get a Hogwarts letter this year,” Draco murmured.
Harry slid an arm around Draco’s waist. “You deserve to be going back with the rest of us,
you know,” he said.
“Do I?” Draco asked, some of the bitterness from earlier lingering in his voice. “No one is
going to be happy with me coming back.”
“I am,” Harry said.
Draco cast him a sidelong glance. “Why?” he asked, a glimmer of a smile forming in his
eyes.
“Who would I have to fight with if you weren’t there?” Harry asked.
A smirk formed slowly on Draco’s face. “You’re right, of course,” he drawled. “Your life
would be no fun without me around.”
Harry laughed lightly. “Just open it, prat,” he said.
Draco opened his letter. Pulling out the slips of parchment, Harry and Draco’s eyes grew
wide as the Head Boy badge fell into Draco’s palm. Draco lifted his gaze to Harry’s, and they
stared at each other.
“Impossible,” Draco breathed.
Their eyes flicked to the badge in Draco’s hand, then back to each other.
“Obviously not impossible,” Harry said.
They gradually registered that a hush had fallen over the room. As one, they turned their eyes
toward Severus, hoping for an explanation. Severus was watching them intently.
“Severus?” Draco questioned. “What does this mean?” He held the badge up in disbelief.
“It is not a mistake,” Severus said. “Headmistress McGonagall held a meeting yesterday with
the Heads of the four Houses. And yes, I will be resuming my duties as Head of Slytherin and
Professor Sinistra will be taking up the duties as Head of Gryffindor, at least for the time
being,” he said, pre-empting those questions.
“After a great deal of debate, it was decided that you should have the honour of being chosen
as Head Boy,” he said.
Draco’s gaze shifted to Ron, and Harry’s eyes followed. Ron was gaping in astonishment at
the turn of events.
“What about Weasley?” Draco spoke to Severus, but his eyes remaining on Ron. “He – he
deserves it more than I do,” he said.
Ron’s eyes widened. He knew as well as Harry how much that admission had cost Draco.
Harry took Draco’s free hand under the table and squeezed in reassurance. Draco gripped
tightly, almost painfully.
“It would appear that McGonagall was correct in her belief that Mr. Weasley was no longer
interested in the position,” Severus said. “What I find most interesting is that you skipped
over Harry, directly to Mr. Weasley.”
Draco’s eyes darted to Harry. “I didn’t mean –” He took a deep breath. “Of course Harry
deserves it.”
“I don’t want it,” Harry said quickly.
“Considering his automatic response, Draco is clearly aware of that,” Severus said, his lips
turning up at the edges. “Much to the surprise of the other three Heads, Minerva and I were
also in agreement that you would not appreciate the position.”
“But why me?” Draco asked quietly, carefully setting the badge on the table. His other hand
gripped Harry’s even tighter. “I don’t deserve this.”
“Amongst other things, the Head Girl and Boy are chosen for their efforts with their studies,
their leadership qualities and their ability to effectively enforce the rules,” Severus said. “You
have all of those qualities.”
“In case you’ve forgotten,” Draco said stiffly, “I ignored most of my studies last year and it’s
already been established that I won’t be able to lead anyone. I can’t effectively enforce the
rules or help anyone if no one will take me seriously and everyone resents me.”
Severus’ eyes narrowed. “Your OWL results were quite satisfactory, you have been a prefect
in the past, and in case you have forgotten, you have the support of the most influential
individual in the school,” he said.
Harry finally understood the purpose behind Severus’ earlier questions.
“Despite Harry’s opinions to the contrary, the students will listen to him and follow his lead,”
Severus said.
“So, you’re saying that Harry is basically Head Boy, but I get the title,” Draco clarified.
“That is not what I have said,” Severus denied.
“It’s what it comes down to,” Draco said. “And it’s what everyone is going to think. They’ll
think I’ve been given the position just because I’m his boyfriend.”
Harry made a noise of protest, but Severus halted him with a warning glare.
“You have not been given this position because of your relationship with Harry,” Severus
said. “There is a grain of truth, however, in the fact that Harry’s support of you was taken into
consideration. While Professor McGonagall and I believe you have earned the position, you
are aware that not many will see it that way.”
“Now, you will have to prove to the students that the position is earned, by performing your
duties well,” he said. “As Harry has already mentioned, it will take a great deal of hard work,
determination and perseverance.”
He hesitated before continuing, his gaze flicking over Harry before returning to Draco. “The
beginning of the year will surely prove to be quite difficult,” he said. “However, you do have
Harry’s support. I do not doubt that he will make it perfectly clear that you should be
respected in your position.”
A flash of a smile crossed Draco’s features, darting a glance at Harry.
“Yes, Merlin forbid the students do anything to upset the Saviour,” Severus said dryly,
interpreting Draco’s expression.
Harry smiled sheepishly as light sniggers were heard from the others.
“Miss Granger,” Severus said.
She started, coming to attention with her back straight. “Yes, sir?”
“One of the concerns when choosing Head Girl and Boy is their ability to work together to
lead the students,” he said. “Are you capable of working cooperatively with Mr. Malfoy?”
Hermione’s eyes flicked to Harry, to Draco, back to Harry, then to Severus. “Yes, sir,” she
said firmly.
“And you, Mr. Malfoy?” Severus snapped out the question.
Draco’s eyes followed almost the same path as Hermione’s had, only flicking between Harry
and Hermione this time. “Yes, sir,” he said.
“There was one other largely determining factor which, even under the extreme and unusual
circumstances, convinced the other Heads of Houses to select you as Head Boy,” Severus
said. “Can you think what it might be, Mr. Malfoy?”
Draco furrowed his brow, but he wasn’t coming up with anything. He was trying not to show
it, but he had been obviously thrown by being selected as Head Boy. He was flustered and not
thinking clearly.
Harry watched him fondly, his mouth turning up in a small smile as he thought about that
first breakfast with the neutral Slytherins. Whether he knew it or not, Draco was capable of
leading the students and doing it a lot differently than he had in the past.
“Mr. Potter, your expression would indicate you are aware of the determining factor,”
Severus said. “Would you care to enlighten Mr. Malfoy?”
“There’s no one better who could understand and help with the Slytherins,” Harry answered
promptly.
Draco’s eyes widened in understanding as Harry continued.
“By choosing Draco and Hermione, you’ve chosen two heroes of the war that can effectively
reach all of the students,” he said. “Slytherin House right now will be set apart more than it
ever has before. If you’d chosen me or Ron, or someone from Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, you
would’ve only been reaching three-fourths of the school.”
Severus nodded in satisfaction. “Do you understand, Mr. Malfoy?”
“Yes, sir,” Draco said.
“Are you prepared to accept your position?”
“I won’t let you down, sir,” Draco said solemnly.
Again, Severus nodded in satisfaction. “I know,” he said simply.
“Harry, are you all right with this?” Draco asked.
“No,” Harry said.
Draco stiffened.
“It’s going to cut into my snogging time,” Harry pouted. “I didn’t want to be Head Boy for a
reason, you know. And now you’ll be off spending half your time with Hermione.”
Draco slowly smiled. A genuine smile, filled with gratitude. “I promise I’ll make it up to
you,” he said.
“You’d better,” Harry said, but he was smiling. He squeezed the hand he was still holding,
thankful Draco had finally relaxed his death grip. “Congratulations.”
“I’m very proud of you, Draco,” Narcissa spoke up, her eyes bright.
“Congratulations, Son,” Lucius said proudly.
“Thank you,” Draco said. For someone who could close off all their emotions, his face was
currently a myriad of expressions, flitting one after the other. He looked closer to unravelling
than Harry had ever seen him around others and certainly no one was in doubt how much all
of this meant to Draco.
“Hey,” Harry said softly.
Draco looked at him helplessly and Harry leaned forward and kissed him. He wasn’t
surprised when Draco deepened the kiss immediately, using it as an emotional release. When
they parted a minute later, Draco appeared much calmer and in control again. Although, his
physical appearance was more tousled, considering Harry’s hands had found their way to
Draco’s hair.
“Future expressions of congratulations may be done in private,” Severus sneered.
But Harry noticed that he’d not said anything to stop them before. Severus knew what it had
meant to Draco, whether or not he approved personally of Harry’s methods of helping Draco
regain his balance. Harry said nothing, refusing to be ashamed of kissing the person he loved.
“How do they do that?” Ginny asked.
“I don’t know,” Hermione answered.
“Do what?” Ron demanded. “They were only snogging. Although, I reckon you’re right,
because I want to know how they can get away with it in front of professors and parents.”
“It was much more than snogging, Ron,” Hermione snapped.
“Whatever the definition of their behaviour, they will not be allowed to get away with that at
Hogwarts,” Severus said, directing a warning glare at Harry and Draco. “Draco, as Head Boy,
will need to set a proper example for the other students.”
He was not impressed with them but, as usual, Remus and Narcissa were smiling warmly.
Remus directed an understanding gaze towards Ginny and Hermione.
“It is rather impressive how they manage to balance each other, isn’t it?” he said.
The girls nodded.
Narcissa directed her response to Ron. “Draco and Harry are adults, Mr. Weasley. It is not for
us to control their actions.”
Lucius looked like he highly disagreed with that sentiment, but he didn’t say anything as
Narcissa continued.
“As a parent, I find myself quite pleased that Draco has found someone who obviously cares
for him deeply,” she said. “Under the circumstances, it would have been understandable if
Harry had wished to keep their relationship private.”
Harry made a noise of protest without thinking, causing everyone to look at him. Narcissa
smiled indulgently.
“Harry has made it clear through his actions that his main concern is Draco,” she said. “If
Draco is in need of reassurance, or anything at all, Harry is not ashamed to give it to him – no
matter who else might be present, professors and parents included.”
“And Draco treats Harry in the same manner,” Remus said. “There is an openness and
honesty in their relationship that is to be admired.”
Harry exchanged glances with Draco. Draco smirked at him. “You didn’t realize everyone
else had put so much thought into our relationship, did you?”
“Um, no, not like that,” Harry admitted. “I just . . .”
“You just love him without caring what anyone else thinks about it,” Remus said.
Harry shrugged. He’d put some thought into what everyone else might think, but Remus was
right that he ultimately didn’t care. He was beginning to feel uncertain, though, because with
the way everyone was talking, he was doing things a lot differently than most people. Was he
doing something wrong? Should he be caring more about how everyone else saw them?
Would Draco be happier if they kept their relationship more private?
Draco dropped a light kiss onto Harry’s mouth. “You’re over-thinking it, Harry,” he drawled.
“Stop it.”
“Yeah, all right,” Harry said, thinking he’d ponder it later. “We shouldn’t be talking about us,
anyway. We should be celebrating the new Head Girl and Boy.”
“Malfoy’s really Head Boy?” Ron questioned.
“Yes, so you better watch yourself this year, Weasley,” Draco said, smirking.
Ron blinked. “Harry, we’re in trouble, aren’t we?” he said.
Draco and Hermione exchanged their first truly friendly glance, both of them clearly excited
about the coming year. Harry wasn’t impressed with the conspiratorial glee in their
expressions.
“Yeah, I think so,” he ruefully answered Ron.
*****
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Notes

Chapter Fifty-Eight
“So, what are we doing?” Draco asked. “Are we going to Diagon Alley today to get our
supplies?”
“No, it is not feasible today,” Severus said. “The professors are expected at Hogwarts for
meetings and to start preparing for the new term.”
Harry groaned as he realized something. “You’re going back to Hogwarts,” he said.
Severus arched a brow. “Is there a particular reason you are stating the obvious?” he
questioned.
Harry glanced at the doorway that led to the potions room. “Do we have to take all of it
back?” he whinged.
“Ah,” Severus said in understanding, smirking in amusement. “No, there will be no need to
return everything to Hogwarts,” he said. “In the past, it was simply the only place I had that
was completely safe.”
“Good,” Harry said in relief.

“However,” Severus continued, “there are a great many materials that will still be necessary
to have on hand for both Lucius and myself.”
“Fine,” Harry grumbled. “But Draco’s helping this time.”
“Why do I have to help?” Draco protested.
“Because you just lounged around in bed last time while I did all the work,” Harry said.
“I was injured and bleeding, you prat,” Draco retorted. “And how was I to know you were
sneaking off to meet up with Severus, of all people?”
“I don’t care,” Harry said. “Do you know how many books Severus owns? A lot. Even if he
only takes half of them back to Hogwarts, it’s going to take hours to get them all packed up,
and then unpacked again.”
“Harry, do you realize Severus didn’t even ask you to help?” Draco asked.
Harry blinked. “Yes, well, someone has to help him,” he said. “At least it won’t be in the
middle of the night this time and we won’t have to sneak in.”
“You snuck into Hogwarts with Snape?!” Hermione blurted out.
“Er, yeah,” Harry said. “We had to get the stuff to brew the potions somehow, didn’t we?”
“Of course,” Hermione said weakly.
“I admire you more and more every day, Harry,” Fred said proudly, with George nodding in
agreement.
Harry eyed Severus nervously. “Have I just got us into trouble?” he asked.
“In trouble, no,” Severus said dryly. “I have already informed Minerva of our excursion to
Hogwarts earlier this summer. But do I wish to be associated with your misadventures? That
answer is also no.”
“Sorry,” Harry said sheepishly.
“You will make up for your wayward tongue by helping me transport the things we need back
to Hogwarts,” Severus said smoothly.
“See?” Harry told Draco. “I knew I’d have to help.”
“But you wouldn’t have had to if –” Draco cut himself off and shook his head in resignation.
“Fine, I’ll help,” he sighed.
Harry grinned smugly. “Knew you would,” he said.
“You’re a pain in the arse, you know that,” Draco said irritably.
“But you love me anyway,” Harry said.

“Luckily for you,” Draco said, picking up his Head Boy badge. “Moving books isn’t my idea
of a celebration.”
“I could help,” Hermione offered tentatively. “I’d like to go speak with my parents first, but it
wouldn’t take long.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Draco muttered, not exactly sounding appreciative. He was busy glaring
irritably at Harry for getting him into this. “The rest of you lot can help, too. It’ll go faster.”
“Awww, how sweet,” Fred cooed. “Would you look at that, George? Already they’re working
together and casting about orders.”
Draco registered what had been said and actually looked at Hermione. She was shaking her
head at Draco’s attitude and Fred’s comments, but smiled regardless.
“It’ll at least be nice working with someone who’s motivated,” she said.
He smirked at her. “I think we’ll be able to do this,” he agreed. He turned to Severus. “So,
where do we start?”
Harry tried to suppress his snigger at the expression on Severus’ face. For once, he appeared
to be nonplussed by the interaction that had just transpired.
“I do believe there is a lesson to be learned here,” Lucius drawled. “When we need

something done, we go through Harry.”
“Indeed,” Severus said.
Harry didn’t hold back his sniggering any longer.
“It is a wonder that I am surprised, after all I have witnessed this summer,” Severus said. He
rose from the table.
“Whoever is assisting, come with me,” he commanded. “Working together, you should be
able to finish this morning and you will have the rest of the day for your leisure.”
“Do I have to help?” Ron whispered.
“Yes,” Harry and Hermione answered in unison.
“But I didn’t volunteer for this,” Ron protested, getting up from the table anyway.
“No one did, aside from Harry,” Draco retorted. “He’s your friend, you should’ve stopped
him.”
Ron stared at Draco incredulously. “Are you capable of stopping Harry when he’s set his
mind to something?” he asked. “Because I’ve been friends with him for six years and have
learned to not even try any more.”
“You might actually have a point, Weasley,” Draco admitted.

“Did you just agree with me?” Ron asked.
“Don’t get used to it,” Draco sneered.
Harry grinned. Draco had said the same thing to him before they started becoming friends.
Maybe there was hope Draco and Ron would eventually become friends as well.
“I know what you’re thinking, Harry,” Draco said, eyes narrowed. “And there’s no way it
would happen. It’s Weasley.”
Harry leaned up to whisper close to Draco’s ear. “There was also no way for us to switch
from enemies to lovers,” he reminded, feeling Draco’s shiver.
Smirking, Harry headed for the potions room in high spirits. “Severus doesn’t like to be kept
waiting,” he tossed loftily over his shoulder.
*****
At lunchtime, they learned the benefits of helping the professors all morning. After a
sumptuous meal made by the house-elves, they were allowed to spend the rest of the day on
the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. Hermione wasn’t impressed with that reward, but Severus had
allowed her to borrow a couple of books and she was thrilled to sit on the lawn in the shade
of the stands, reading and watching over Victoria.
Harry was ecstatic being up in the air again for the first time all summer. He watched for
awhile as Draco took Victoria for her first ride on a broom, flying low over the pitch. Draco
and Victoria loved it. Hermione was in a panic the entire time he had her in the air. Once
Victoria was once again safe on the ground with Hermione, the rest of them started a game of
Quidditch. They had uneven teams since Hermione wasn’t playing, but no one particularly
cared.
The next couple of days were spent the same way. Helping the professors in the morning
earned them time on the Hogwarts grounds for the rest of the day. As far as Harry was
concerned, he couldn’t have asked for a better holiday. He was spending time with his
friends, playing Quidditch, he was outdoors much of the day and he had more time with
Draco and Victoria. Even the work in the mornings wasn’t so bad, although he was certain
most of the others wouldn’t agree. But he wasn’t sure if he’d know what to do with himself if
he suddenly had no responsibilities.
On Thursday, Harry was in the shade with Hermione, watching the others in the air while he
changed and fed Victoria and settled her in for an afternoon nap. He had just laid her down
when Hermione spoke.
“You know, I’m real surprised,” she said thoughtfully. “Lucius Malfoy is actually all right
with Harry Potter and his son being together?”
“Yeah, but I have to have a baby,” Harry said absently.
“What did you say?” Hermione asked.

“I have to have a baby,” he repeated, still focused on watching the others and ready to get
back up in the air with them. “Or rather, Draco does.”
He didn’t notice Hermione closing her eyes and praying for patience and understanding. He
noticed her not receiving it, though.
There was a whisper of a Silencing Charm cast around Victoria before she shouted, “Harry
James Potter! What are you talking about?!”
Harry stared at her in astonishment. Until his mind caught up with what she’d been asking
him. His astonishment turned to resignation. This was not a conversation he’d wanted to have
with Hermione anytime soon. Or ever.
“Draco needs an heir to carry on the Malfoy line,” he admitted.
“He has Victoria,” Hermione said with a frown, a hint of disapproval in her voice. It was
going to get much worse.
“She’s a girl,” Harry said. He had to give Hermione credit. She caught on far faster than he
had. She hadn’t even needed to have it spelled out to her.
He let her rant and rave, going back to watching the others and humming sounds of approval
and disapproval now and then, whenever it seemed appropriate. She didn’t seem to notice, so
he wasn’t sure if he was giving them at the appropriate times or not. She eventually ran out of
steam, at least enough to notice that Harry wasn’t humming the right sounds at even remotely
the right times.
“Harry, why are you involved in such a thing?” she asked, glaring at him.
It was a direct question, so he reckoned it was probably time to focus on the conversation
again. It was also an easy question.
“Because I love Draco,” he answered.
“That’s no excuse for discrimination,” Hermione snapped. “I let you off the hook regarding
Winky, but this, this is too much, Harry.”
And she was off again. He could watch the game for awhile longer, after all.
Harry found it hilarious when the impromptu Quidditch game ended. They took one look at
Hermione and unanimously decided they were starting another game, with or without Harry.
Cowards, he thought in amusement.
“Why are you not caring?” Hermione finally asked. She looked about ready to cry. Whether it
was borne from frustration or genuine distress over the matter, Harry couldn’t say for sure.
“I do care,” he said. “I’ve already argued with Draco over the issue.”
“Oh,” Hermione said, blinking owlishly at him, her eyes still over-bright.
“Hermione, I don’t really agree with Draco on this. It is rather discriminatory towards girls,”
he said. “But I can respect the fact that he places a very high value on his name. I’ve always
known this about him.”
Now came the hard part.
“One way or another, I’ll figure out a way to give Draco a male heir,” he said. “It’s what’s
important to him.”
“Harry,” Hermione began angrily. “What about what’s important to you?”
“What’s important to me is having a family,” he said quietly. “It’s not mutually exclusive
from having a male heir.”
Hermione frowned, deep lines etched into her forehead as she thought about his answer.
“What about Victoria?” she asked. “Doesn’t she have rights?”
“She’ll have the same rights as her future brother,” he said. “She’ll be entitled to all the same
privileges, access to the same money, and whatever she wants in life. Including the right to
take on her husband’s name when she marries. The only thing she won’t have is the title of
‘Malfoy heir’.”
“You’ve thought a lot about this,” Hermione said. Her tone didn’t indicate that she was giving
in, but she was conceding that Harry wasn’t going into the situation blind.
Harry smiled faintly. “I have,” he said. “I knew I’d have to tell you about it at some point.”
Hermione was startled into a light laugh, even though it sounded a bit despairing.
“Harry, you can’t even have a baby,” she pointed out.
He frowned. That was his real problem, as far as he was concerned. “Lucius said I was
resourceful and that I’d come up with some solution,” he said.
Hermione’s face twisted.
“It’s not like I need a solution right away,” he said. “I mean, we’re only seventeen, and we
still have a year of school left.”
“And you already have a child,” she said pointedly.
Harry smiled. “Yeah, we do,” he said softly, glancing down at Victoria and brushing away a
lock of hair that had blown over her eyes with the light breeze.
Something in Hermione’s expression abruptly shifted. Harry couldn’t define it, but he saw it.
“What?” he asked.
“I just realized something,” she admitted. “With you and Malfoy as her parents, that little girl
isn’t going to be left wanting for anything in life. Whether it be material, emotional, mental.
Love, affection, family. She’ll have everything. You two are too stubborn to give her
anything less.”
Harry nodded in agreement, his lips curling into a smile.
“But I also realized something else,” she said quietly. “It’s rather foolish of me to rant about
discrimination to you, of all people. Now, Malfoy could surely use a few things being
explained to him. But not you.”
“Figured it out, have you?” he asked, not unkindly.
Hermione nodded ruefully. “You’ve outright refused to tolerate discrimination against four
Death Eaters,” she said. “You’re not going to tolerate it against your daughter.”
She gazed at him speculatively. “I reckon Victoria’s going to grow up learning tolerance,” she
said. “Same as her future brother. I reckon they’ll grow up rather equally. I’d go so far as to
say that by the time they’re old enough to claim the title, it won’t be nearly as big of an
issue.”
“Shhhh,” Harry said, with a mischievous smile. “Draco doesn’t know this yet.”
Hermione laughed openly. “Oh, Harry, I’m glad you’re getting your family,” she said.
“Me, too,” he agreed softly.
“So,” she said briskly, her attitude changing abruptly. “How are we going to get you an heir
for the Malfoy name?”
Harry looked at her in alarm, wondering if this was the same girl who’d just been attacking
him for this very issue.
“That’s what you need, isn’t it?” she asked blithely. “A little boy to round out your family?”
“Um, yeah,” Harry said bemusedly.
“Well, obviously neither of you can get pregnant,” she said. She paused thoughtfully.
“Although, we do live in a world of magic, so I reckon anything is possible.”
“I’m a boy!” Harry shouted, his alarm skyrocketing into outright panic.
“Yes, I’m aware of that,” Hermione said dryly. “I’m also aware that, despite his poncy
fashion attitudes, Malfoy is a boy.”
Harry sniggered, his panic eased by amusement.
“But to relieve you of your obvious worry, I doubt that there is a way for males to become
pregnant, even with magic,” she said.
He was relieved, until she continued.
“I wonder if it’s possible to get pregnant while a boy is Polyjuiced as a girl?” she pondered
thoughtfully.
Panic overload.
“I’m not a girl!” Harry shouted. “I already told Draco I wasn’t exchanging my bits for
something more suitable to providing him with a bloody heir!”
Hermione’s eyes widened. “Yes, well . . . you two have some interesting conversations, don’t
you?”
Harry glared at her.
She cleared her throat. “Well, obviously it wouldn’t be practical to support a pregnancy while
taking Polyjuice,” she said. “Even if we do know that a person can be sustained on the potion
for months.”
“You think?” Harry asked sarcastically.
It was Hermione’s turn to glare. But she slipped almost immediately back into problem
solving mode.
“Adoption would always be an option,” she said. Her face twisted in disgust. “Although, I’d
hate to hazard a guess how long it’d take you to talk Malfoy into that, considering all the
blood issues.”
Unfortunately, Harry had to agree with her. He thought maybe Draco might accept adopting
some kids in the future, but he didn’t think Draco would accept that for the heir status. He
was grateful Hermione chose not to dwell on the issue.
“Possibly the obvious solution would be for Draco to impregnate another girl,” she said, her
voice filled with practical reason. “It is how he had Victoria.”
Harry clenched his jaw shut.
Hermione gazed at him knowingly. “There are ways to impregnate a girl without them
actually having sex,” she informed him.
He blinked. “There are?”
She proceeded to explain surrogate mothers and artificial insemination to him. That, he could
handle thinking about. Although, where they’d find a girl willing to do that, he had no idea.
And luckily, no need to find one immediately.
If it wasn’t for the fact that he’d like to be able to present Lucius with some kind of solution,
Harry wouldn’t even be worrying about how to have another baby right now. He reckoned he
had at least a year, until they left school, to come up with something. Before Lucius decided
to come up with some idea of his own. As Victoria was the result of Lucius’ last brilliant
idea, Harry wasn’t keen on the idea of giving him any leeway regarding the matter.
Hermione seemed determined to come up with as many options as possible – immediately.

Harry wasn’t inclined to protest. And Draco had a great deal of respect for having options
available to him.
“I wonder if it’s possible with magic to mix yours and Malfoy’s DNA,” Hermione mused.
He stared at her blankly.
She explained that the baby would literally be Harry and Draco’s in that situation, and would
have none of the surrogate mother’s characteristics. “It would be both a Potter and a Malfoy
by blood,” she said gently.
“It would be mine, too?” Harry asked in astonishment.
“I didn’t realize you cared about having an heir of your own,” Hermione said.
“I don’t,” Harry said. He’d not even thought about that, although, he was the end of the Potter
line so maybe he should think about it at some point. It wasn’t what he cared about at the
moment, though.
“Draco and I could have a baby that’s created from the both of us?” he asked.
“Oh, Harry,” Hermione said sadly. “I hadn’t meant to get your hopes up. I don’t know that
it’s even possible. I’ve seen how you feel about Victoria, and I didn’t realize it would mean
that much to you.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he protested. “I don’t care if Victoria’s not mine by blood.”
“No, growing up with the Dursleys, I’m sure it doesn’t matter to you,” she agreed. “You’d
never make this little girl feel anything less than special. But it doesn’t mean you wouldn’t
also like to have a little boy with bright green eyes and silver blond hair.”
Harry’s own bright green eyes widened and filled with wonder.
“You two would make beautiful children together,” she said softly. “But Harry, I don’t think
it’s possible in the Muggle world. At least, not yet. I don’t know that it’s possible in the
magical world, either.”
“Well, it’s something I can research,” he said. “Maybe there’s a potion or something.”
Hermione shook her head. “When did you start trying to solve everything with potions?” she
asked dryly.
“You try living with Draco, Severus and Lucius and see if you don’t start thinking about
potions more often,” he retorted.
“Erm, no thanks,” she said with a grimace.

He laughed lightly. “It’s not so bad,” he said. “And Remus and Narcissa, they help balance
things out.”
“Harry, I’m certain yours is the most dysfunctional family I know,” she said, but she was
smiling.
“I’m sure we are,” he agreed, but he’d turned thoughtful. He glanced up into the air.
Everyone was still happily playing Quidditch.
He rolled to his feet and snatched up his broom. “I’ll be back in a bit,” he said, flying towards
the castle before she had a chance to respond. He knew she’d question him and he didn’t
know the answers.
Reporters were still camped out at the gates, but Harry was able to circle around the long
way, flying to the Shrieking Shack where he dropped off his broom before Apparating.
He landed near Privet Drive, wondering what the hell he thought he was doing. Walking
slowly, he approached the house he’d lived in for so many years. This was his dysfunctional
family.
Husband, wife, child. A typical, socially-accepted arrangement. Related by blood. They were
technically his family.
Never had they felt like family, though.
Standing on the front walk, he stared at the house. It had never been home. Ironically, the
closest it had come to feeling that way was when Victoria, Draco and Narcissa had lived there
with him. Six days they’d stayed, and it was the only days in sixteen years that it came even
close to being a home.
Firming his resolve, he strode to the front door. He felt downright ridiculous knocking, but it
wasn’t his right to simply walk inside, if it had ever been his right.
“Hello, Aunt Petunia,” he said quietly when she opened the door.
She stared at him in astonishment for a few seconds before she pursed her lips angrily.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded. “You were to never come back.”
“I’m not here to stay,” he said. “I . . . I just thought you should know that Voldemort is dead. I
knew no one else would come to tell you. The war, it’s over. And . . . your sister’s death has
been avenged.”
Petunia’s eyes fell shut before snapping open again a second later. She gave him a cursory
once-over. “You survived,” she said. “What about your . . . friend?”
Harry blinked once in surprise. “Draco survived. Saved my life, in fact,” he said.
She nodded sharply before her features softened the slightest bit. “You will take care of
yourself?” she asked.
He swallowed back the bitter retort that sprang immediately to the tip of his tongue and
nodded.
“Thank you,” he said, and it was her turn to blink in surprise. “I know it’s never been
pleasant, for either of us, but you’ve at least protected me. But especially, thank you for this
summer and my things.”
She stared at him for long seconds. “Goodbye, Harry,” she finally said, before slipping back
into the house.
“Goodbye, Aunt Petunia,” he said softly to the closed door.
*****
Harry walked between the gravestones, wondering why he’d come. He might not have
known precisely what he’d wanted to say to his aunt, but he’d at least known he was going
there. He’d not intended to come to the cemetery. But when it had come time to Apparate,
this was where he’d chosen.
He reached his parents and Sirius’ gravestones and simply stared at them. James and Lily
Potter and Sirius Black. Family.
He missed them.
“Voldemort’s gone,” he said quietly. “Maybe Remus has been here to tell you. I don’t know.”
He’d vowed to avenge their deaths, and he had. His mother’s sacrifice hadn’t been wasted.
His father and Sirius had sacrificed their lives as well, trying to protect him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry you had to die, but I think I understand.”
He’d been so angry at Sirius for going to the Ministry. For being so foolish, risking his life.
But he realized that he would do the same thing for Victoria. For any number of people,
really. He’d done it for Sirius. He’d simply been lucky that he hadn’t paid with his life.
“I’m rather certain you wouldn’t be happy with some of the choices I’ve made,” he said. “But
I get to live my life now, and I think you’d be happy with that. It’s why you died, isn’t it? So
that I could live?”
He’d try not to disappoint them.
“Thank you,” he said.
*****
He landed in front of the castle’s main doors. Clutching his broom, he debated whether or not
he should go back to the Quidditch pitch. Surely the others were wondering what he was
doing, but considering that Draco hadn’t sent any messages through the bracelet, he probably
wasn’t too worried. Then again, Draco didn’t know Harry had left Hogwarts grounds. They
probably thought Harry was talking with the professors and no one was inclined to get
suckered into more work.
He headed inside the castle, searching for Remus. Pausing for a moment, he turned towards
the dungeons. He knocked on the door to Severus’ office.
The wait wasn’t long before Severus opened the door. He narrowed his eyes at Harry.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“No, nothing wrong,” Harry said. In fact, he was again left wondering what the hell he was
doing. “Um, is Remus here?”
Severus opened the door wider, silently gesturing Harry inside. Harry followed him across
the room and into Severus’ private quarters. He stopped inside the doorway.
“Am I interrupting something?” he asked.
“We were just discussing the upcoming year,” Remus said. “Come in.”
It looked . . . cosy. Severus resumed his seat next to Remus on the couch in front of the
fireplace, gesturing to one of the side armchairs for Harry to sit.
“Would you like some tea?” Remus asked.
Harry shook his head. He sat down, but he still felt like he was interrupting.
“Are you two happy together?” he blurted out. He grimaced. “Sorry. It’s none of my business,
is it?”
“No, it is not your concern,” Severus agreed.
Harry nodded, feeling unaccountably disappointed.
“Is there a particular reason why we can not tell Harry that we are satisfied with our
relationship?” Remus questioned before casually sipping at his tea.
Severus hesitated. “Perhaps it was an automatic response,” he conceded.
“So, are you happy?” Harry risked asking again.
“While we do not flaunt our relationship as you do, we are . . . happy,” Severus sneered his
disgust with the word choice.
Remus attempted to cover his smile with his cup and Harry grinned, ignoring Severus’ taunt.
He suspected almost any recognition of his relationship around others would be considered
flaunting, in Severus’ opinion.
Severus shot a nasty glare at both of them, but didn’t protest when Remus placed a hand on
top of his. Rather, Severus’ long fingers curled around Remus’ in acknowledgement. Harry
felt privileged to witness it.
“Why are you here, Harry?” Severus asked. “Shouldn’t you be outside with the others
performing foolish stunts?”
“Er,” Harry stalled. He didn’t know why he was there. He’d just needed to see Remus after
the visit to the cemetery. He’d essentially closed two chapters of his life that afternoon and
vulnerable didn’t even begin to describe how he was feeling. But he didn’t particularly want
to admit it.
Seeing Remus and Severus together, though, was rather reassuring. He’d lost all his other
parental figures, both the bad and the good. But Remus and Severus, the two had survived so
much through the years. He could only hope that meant he wouldn’t lose either of them any
time soon.
“Will I be able to come down here to visit with you once school starts?” he asked.
Severus arched a brow. “What makes you believe Remus will be staying here?”
Harry blinked. “Isn’t he?”
“Yes, I am,” Remus said firmly, ignoring Severus. “And of course you will be able to visit
with us. In fact, I expect it. I confess that I will miss mealtimes, in particular, at Grimmauld
Place.”
“Yeah, me too,” Harry agreed softly. “I’m not looking forward to you two going back to
being my professors. I like the way things have been this summer.”
“Harry,” Severus said, “Hogwarts will require more formality than you have been
accustomed to this summer. I will be your professor in the classroom, but Remus is correct
that you will be welcome here in,” he sent a wry glance at Remus, “our rooms.”
Harry grinned as Remus smiled innocently at Severus. He had no idea how Remus had worn
down some of Severus’ defences, but he was happy things were working out for them.
“Blasted Gryffindors,” Severus muttered, shaking his head in resignation. “Invading my life.”
“And you love us for it,” Remus said lightly.
Harry’s eyes went wide as Severus nodded once in acknowledgement.
Remus chuckled, amused with Harry’s surprise, but he spoke sincerely. “We will be here
anytime you need us,” he said.
A slow smile formed on Harry’s face. “Thank you,” he said.
Severus cleared his throat lightly, changing the subject. He’d evidently spent long enough on
sentimental topics.
“Since you are here,” he said, “I should inform you that we will be going to Diagon Alley
tomorrow. I do hope you are prepared.”
“Will it be that bad?” Harry asked.
“Diagon Alley is extremely crowded as people believe it to be safe once again,” Remus said.
“There will also be many students present, shopping for their supplies.”
“And all of them will be interested in the Saviour,” Severus warned.
“Lovely,” Harry muttered.
“Indeed,” “Severus agreed. “With any luck, they will be deterred by the company you keep.”
“Is that why you’ve insisted on coming with us?” Harry asked. He didn’t wait for an answer.
“The unexpected bonuses of befriending surly Slytherins,” he quipped.
He started laughing as Severus scowled, looking the part of surly Slytherin.
“Unless you have any other concerns you wish to discuss, I think you, brat child, should
return to your friends,” Severus sneered.
“Yeah, sure,” Harry agreed, feeling warm and happy.
He headed back out to the Quidditch pitch, jumping on his broom as soon as he’d made it
past the main doors of the castle. He looped around Draco before coming up alongside him.
“Where have you been?” Draco asked, staring at him suspiciously.
As they drifted through the air, Harry explained what he’d been doing. He wasn’t surprised
that Draco was angry at him for taking off without him, but Draco got over it quickly enough.
They talked about all of it, Draco worming the details out of him effortlessly.
“Why didn’t you tell Lupin where you’d been?” Draco asked.
Harry shrugged. “Talking about my parents in front of Severus . . . it’s not very comfortable,”
he said. “Not sure why I’m talking to you about them, to be honest.”
“Because you needed to tell someone,” Draco said simply.
“I suppose,” Harry said, smiling ruefully.
“So, what were you and Granger talking about earlier?” Draco asked, changing the subject as
they looped the goal posts.
“Um, we talked about having babies,” Harry said.
Draco glanced at him askance, arching a brow questioningly.
Sniggering at Draco’s reaction, Harry explained the highlights of his conversation with
Hermione. By the time he finished, Draco was staring at him in wonder.
“You’re serious,” Draco said.
“Well, I don’t know if it’s actually possible to combine our DNA, or however that works, but
yeah, Hermione said this,” Harry gestured wildly, “whole surrogacy thing is fairly common.”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” Draco said. “You’re serious about having a baby just to make
my father happy.”
Harry grimaced. “Oh, no,” he said. “I’m serious, but I’m certainly not doing it to make your
father happy. I’ll do it to make you happy. I care about Lucius’ approval because you care.”
Relief and gratitude were vying for dominance over Draco’s features.
“You’ve been worrying about this, haven’t you?” Harry said. “This heir issue.”
“Harry, you’re a boy,” Draco began.
“That’s been established,” Harry interrupted. “I made sure Hermione was aware of that fact
as well.”
Draco gave him an odd look before continuing. “You’re a boy,” he repeated, “and I didn’t
honestly think there was anything we’d be able to do. I’ve not been looking forward to being
forced to have sex with some girl and having you leave me because of it,” he admitted
quietly.
“You’d have actually done that?” Harry asked.
Averting his gaze, Draco didn’t answer.
“I see,” Harry muttered. “Good to know having an heir is more important than me.”
“Harry, that’s not fair,” Draco said. “It’s not more important than you, but . . . I thought all
these suggestions meant that you understood just how important this is to me.”
“Yeah, I do understand,” Harry sighed. “And if I’m honest, I’ve known it was a possibility
that you’d go so far as to have sex with some girl. I’m not particularly proud of admitting it –
and if you tell Hermione, I’ll kill you – but I’d have let you.”
“You’d have let me,” Draco said flatly, “and not left me.”
“I wouldn’t be happy about it,” Harry said irritably. “But it is how you got Victoria, isn’t it?
Sex with a girl brings about babies. I want more children. You need an heir. Therefore, the
equation leads to you having sex with someone else. I’ve known this, just as you have.”
“But you’re angry with me because I accepted that equation when you didn’t,” Draco said in
realization.
“I thought we could at least try to find some other solution,” Harry muttered.
“Harry, I’m sorry,” Draco said. “I should’ve had faith that you’d come up with some way to
accomplish the impossible.”
Harry shrugged, still feeling disappointed. “Not sure why we’re arguing about this anyway,”
he said. “Here we are talking about having more kids when we can’t even take care of the one
we’ve got.”
“That’s not true!” Draco exclaimed.
“Draco, who takes care of Victoria?” Harry demanded.
“We do,” Draco answered promptly.
“And Winky, your mum, Remus,” Harry said, glancing pointedly at the ground before
adding, “my friends. I haven’t truly been responsible for Victoria since the beginning of the
summer. Once I bound Winky to me, I’ve only taken care of Victoria when it was convenient
for me.”
Draco managed to stretch across the distance between their brooms and whack him across the
back of the head.
“What was that for?” Harry demanded.
“I doubt you can name one time it was convenient for you to watch Victoria,” Draco said.
“You had that minor problem of a Dark Lord taking up the majority of your time,” he said
sarcastically.
Harry scowled at him. “Still, it’s not normal for a baby to be shuffled around between so
many different people,” he said. “We’re supposed to be taking care of her all the time.”
“Says who?” Draco asked, sounding truly bewildered. “I mean, I understand that you don’t
want Winky taking care of her all the time. Human interaction and all that. But isn’t it good
that Victoria spends time with other people who love her?”
“Well, yeah, but we don’t spend enough time with her,” Harry said. “We just do the fun stuff
with her, not really take care of her. When was the last time you even changed one of her
nappies?”
“Uh, a while,” Draco admitted. “It’s disgusting!”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Yes, but it’s part of taking care of a baby. Winky watches over her at
night and gets up with her in the mornings. Your mum usually prepares her for bed at night.
Shouldn’t all that be changing now that things have calmed down?”
Draco stared at him incredulously. “Calmed down? Harry, you’ve been awake for four bloody
days since you killed the Dark Lord,” he said. “That’s it, unless you count last Friday. You
were awake a fair amount of that day, but you were a little busy saving me from Azkaban.
Monday you were busy with a new crisis. That leaves the last three days.”
“During those three days of much needed rest,” he continued, “you have insisted on helping
prepare classrooms and you’ve been dealing with other issues. And Victoria has been with us
for most of the day. You’ve changed nappies and we’ve bathed her and put her to bed one of
those nights. She’s with us for meals and she sleeps through the night.”
“Bloody hell, Harry!” Draco exclaimed. “I do not see the problem in delegating at least some
of the tasks of her care to others. She’s being taken care of and I’m not concerned about her.
You’re the one I’m worried about.”
“But I’m doing fine,” Harry protested.
“No, you’re not,” Draco said flatly. “You need to ease up about Victoria and helping the
professors and moving constantly. You need to just stop. Even now, we’re moving.”
“But this is flying,” Harry said.
Draco gave him a half-smile. “Yes, flying does fit into a different category, doesn’t it?” he
said. “I just wish you’d quit worrying about everyone else for a little while and focus on what
you need.”
“And what do I need?” Harry asked.
“Some time without any bloody responsibilities,” Draco said. “Maybe then you’d remember
that you’re a teenager like the rest of us. Hell, you’re even going overboard on your relaxing
activity so that you’re falling into bed sore and exhausted at night. I love flying and
Quidditch, but you’re taking it to an extreme.”
“C’mon, then,” Harry sighed, turning his broom towards the ground. He landed in the middle
of the pitch and sprawled on his back in the grass. Draco dropped down next to him.
“Harry, what’s going on?” he asked softly.
“I am fine,” Harry said. “But if I don’t stay busy, well, I’m afraid all the nightmares will
come back. I’ve not had to deal with them most of the summer.”
Draco snorted. “That’s because you’ve been dealing with them during the day,” he muttered.
“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “When I’m exhausted, I sleep better. When I’m not busy . . . they’re
terrible, Draco. I was awake when you first showed up at the Dursleys because I’d had
another bloody nightmare and couldn’t sleep. And what have I done this summer? Given
myself plenty of new material for nightmares.”
“I know about nightmares,” Draco said quietly. “But you keep them away. When I was at the
Ministry, I didn’t exactly sleep well.”
“Do you think sleeping together helps?” Harry asked, surprised. “I thought it was just
because I’m always exhausted that I hadn’t had many nightmares.”
“I’d suspected it helps, but I tested the theory last week,” Draco said flatly. “I’m not sleeping
in separate rooms this year.”
“Sorry I wasn’t there,” Harry murmured.
“Yeah, well, I’d wanted to come to you, but they wouldn’t let me,” Draco muttered bitterly.
He shook his head, dismissing those thoughts.
He stretched out next to Harry on the grass, propping his head on Harry’s abdomen. “You’re
not used to having someone to rely on, are you?” he asked.
“No,” Harry answered. He’d visited Aunt Petunia that afternoon and had been forcibly
reminded of that fact.
His fingers found their way to Draco’s hair, sifting absently through the silky strands. It felt
reassuring, a physical reminder that Draco was there. He’d survived the war and they were
together. Blinking up into the sky, he wondered if that was why Draco was always playing
with his hair, especially over the last few days.
“You can, you know,” Draco said. “You can rely on me. If there’s something I can’t help you
with, then we have access to a lot of resources. Like the sleep problem. We do know the best
Potions Master around and Madam Pomfrey would help you with anything.”
“It’s all right to relax, Harry,” he said softly.
“I’ve been trying to,” Harry said. “The last few days haven’t been so bad, have they?”
“No, they haven’t,” Draco admitted. “And I don’t think the others have noticed anything. But
I’m the one watching you fall into bed at night, exhausted. It’s no different than the rest of
this summer, and it should be.”
“You do know that you’re bringing this up at a bad time?” Harry asked. “We’re going to
Diagon Alley tomorrow and there’s the celebration on Saturday,” he reminded.
Draco groaned. “Fine,” he grumbled. “But next week, you are going to relax.”
*****
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Notes

Chapter Fifty-Nine
Diagon Alley was chaos. Harry had never seen the street so busy. Everywhere he looked,
people were bustling about. Shopkeepers were again setting up for business. He’d heard
Ollivander’s was open, but he didn’t know who was selling the wands as Mr. Ollivander
himself hadn’t been found. Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour was open, and from the man’s
appearance currently bustling about serving customers at the outside tables, it was surely a
relative of Florean Fortescue who was running the place.
It was a growing, thriving area once again.
“We have to go through this crowd?” Harry muttered in disbelief, standing near the entrance
to Diagon Alley, behind the Leaky Cauldron. Judging by the level of noise coming from
inside, that business was booming again as well. They’d skipped going inside, Severus
choosing to have them Apparate directly to the small alleyway.
Draco’s chin lifted, a haughty sneer gracing his features. “They’ll just have to make way for
us,” he declared.
Harry groaned. He didn’t know which was worse – being loved by the public or being hated
by the public. But he did know he didn’t want to put up with Draco’s attitude all day.
“If you’re going to be an aristocratic arse today, I’m not shopping with you,” he said.
Draco scowled at him. “If I don’t show that I’m not afraid of them, then they’ll see me as
weak,” he said.
“Since when does not showing fear include looking like you’re trying to prove that you were
a nasty little Death Eater?” Harry demanded. “Because if that’s your intention, then you’re
doing a damned good job.”
Draco glanced over Harry’s shoulder at his parents. Turning his head, Harry followed his
gaze and groaned. Lucius’ expression was eerily similar to Draco’s and Narcissa apparently
didn’t like the smell of Diagon Alley.
“No,” Harry said flatly. “I’m not going shopping with you lot.”
“I thought you supported us,” Draco snapped.
“Yes, I support the real Malfoys,” Harry retorted. “I have no idea who you people are. I’m
sure as hell not going to put up with this ‘I’m better than everyone else’ attitude. And if you
try to tell me you are better than everyone else, I’ll smack you.”
Draco snapped his mouth shut on the forthcoming insult. “Thanks for nothing, Potter,” he
sneered.
“Oh, fine,” Harry huffed in annoyance, seeing the hurt in Draco’s eyes and giving in.
“C’mon, then. Maybe we can manage to get our school supplies while you terrorize the
masses.”
Spinning on his heel, he headed into Diagon Alley. Draco fell into step beside him, Blaise on
the other side, with Crabbe and Goyle flanking them. The four adults held back, shadowing
them and watching for anything suspicious.
Harry cast a sidelong glance at Draco. He’d dropped the haughty sneer and didn’t look like
he intended to take down anyone in his path now. The cool arrogance currently displayed
wasn’t the side of Draco he appreciated the most, but he could live with it. In fact, he admired
the calm confidence Draco was revealing, even though he was certain Draco wasn’t feeling
as calm as he appeared.
“You’re rather sexy like this,” he murmured.
Draco arched a brow in surprise before his mouth curled into a lazy smirk. Yes, Harry
decided, definitely sexy.
A sudden shriek had him whipping his head around to discover the source. He quickly
learned that they were the source of danger. Or rather, Draco and the others were the danger.
Excited squeals of his own name were coursing through the crowd as they realized Harry
Potter was in their midst.
“Keep moving,” Draco murmured.
As they strode further into Diagon Alley proper, word preceded them. He’d been irritated
with Draco’s attitude earlier and found it disturbing when people did make way for them.
Easier, but still disturbing.
“Harry! Draco!” Fred shouted their names loudly.
Harry’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Apparently the circumstances dictated that they be on first
name basis with Draco. More redheads and Hermione were spilling out of the twins’ shop.
“Heard you were coming,” George said cheerfully as they approached.
“Considering we said we’d meet everyone here, I didn’t think it’d be a surprise,” Harry said
dryly.
“You lot look rather dangerous,” Ginny observed, attaching herself to Blaise’s side.
“Harry’s given me permission to terrorize the masses,” Draco drawled sarcastically.
“And what a fine job you’re doing!” Fred exclaimed.
“I doubt Harry’s had a single person attempt to get his autograph,” George agreed.
Harry glanced around at the growing crowd that was watching them. It was true that a lot of
people looked like they wanted to approach him for his autograph, but they hadn’t dared.
“Doesn’t anybody know that I didn’t win the war by myself?” he asked curiously. He turned
to his friends. “Have they been disturbing you lot?”
“A few people have tried talking to us,” Ron admitted with a grimace.
“He’s just upset because some little old lady kissed him on the cheek to thank him,” Ginny
said, grinning.
“Right disgusting, that was,” Ron muttered, swiping at his cheek as if he could still feel it.
“She reminded me of Great Aunt Tessie.”
Harry grinned as all four Weasleys shuddered. He felt a little better. Served Ron right to get a
little taste of what it meant to be famous.
“The shop is getting loads of extra business,” George said. “But we haven’t been here much
since we’ve been on holiday with you.”
“I didn’t realize you were needed here so bad,” Harry said. “Why have you been on holiday
with us?”
“Why not?” Fred asked. “With all the business coming in, we can afford to hire extra help for
a couple of weeks.”
“You lot will be going back to Hogwarts soon and we’ll be back to work,” George said,
shrugging.
Harry realized he was going to miss spending so much time around them.
“We can arrange to meet them on Hogsmeade weekends or something,” Draco whispered in
his ear, perceptively understanding his thoughts.
“That we can do,” Fred whispered in his other ear, causing Harry to yelp and jump back into
Draco. He’d not realized Fred was so close.
Harry scowled at the grinning Fred as the others laughed. Draco had wrapped his arms
around Harry’s waist automatically and didn’t seem inclined to let him go, instead pulling
Harry back to rest against him.
“I thought you were supposed to be protecting me,” Harry muttered.
“Mmmm,” Draco murmured, non-committal, resting his chin on Harry’s shoulder.
Reflecting on what had happened, Harry thought maybe he owed Fred a favour for helping to
get Draco to loosen up. Fred winked knowingly and Harry was certain he’d done it
intentionally.
He saw Mrs. Weasley approaching, with Mr. Weasley right behind her. “I thought I ordered
you lot to stay inside,” she said sternly.
“We thought maybe the Malfoys, Snape and Lupin provided enough protection,” Fred said
innocently.
“Not to mention Harry, Draco, Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle,” George added.
Mrs. Weasley was flustered. “Hello, Harry dear,” she said. She didn’t appear to know what to
do with her hands, as she wasn’t about to give Harry a hug when he was in Draco’s arms.
“Hello, Mrs. Weasley,” he said. “Did you just come from Gringott’s?”
“Yes, and it’s a dreadful mess,” she declared. “It would seem everyone is out and about and
wanting to shop today. The lines were terribly long with people electing to do business with
the bank again.”
Harry was grateful he didn’t have to go to the bank, as he still had plenty of galleons from the
last time.
“So,” Hermione spoke up. “Who needs to go where?”
“I need to take Harry to Madam Malkin’s,” Draco said.
“What?” Harry asked, turning around so he could face Draco. This was the first he’d heard of
it. “We’ve got plenty of robes.”
“Not school robes,” Draco said.
Surely they had school robes somewhere in their wardrobes. That fit. Judging from Draco’s
expression, obviously not.
“How about you go to Madam Malkin’s for our robes and I’ll go get our books,” Harry
suggested.
“But you should be fitted for them,” Draco protested.
“You managed to buy my other robes without me,” Harry pointed out. “I don’t want to go to
the robe shop.”
“How about you get our books and then meet me there,” Draco bargained. “I’ll have
everything selected and you’ll only have to try them on.”
“It’s the best deal you’re going to get from him,” Blaise informed Harry, smirking.
“Fine,” Harry grumbled.
Blaise and Ginny went with the Malfoys, although Mr. and Mrs. Weasley didn’t appear
pleased with that arrangement. With the extra adults present, Severus elected to take the
opportunity to visit Knockturn Alley for his potions supplies. The twins decided they’d rather
go back to their shop instead of look at books. The rest of them headed for Flourish and
Blotts.
Before they left, Harry was surprised when Lucius slipped a bag of coins into his robe pocket
with orders to purchase books for all four of the Slytherins. Draco and Blaise handed over
their booklists. Crabbe and Goyle were going with him to the book shop, but he suddenly
realized that they didn’t necessarily have any money if they’d been estranged from their
families.
Harry was surprised once again when Hermione and Ron backed off, allowing Crabbe and
Goyle to walk beside him.
“You’re better protected with Slytherins guarding you,” Hermione explained before he could
ask.
“Yeah, who wants to mess with Crabbe and Goyle,” Ron said, jerking his thumb in their
direction.
“I feel short,” Harry muttered. Crabbe and Goyle grinned down at him.
“That’s because you are short, Potter,” Crabbe said.
Hermione was giggling. “They are a good head taller than you,” she observed.
“I’ve always been short for my age. Even when I grow, everyone else seems to grow twice as
tall,” he grumbled. “Look at Ron. He’s as tall as Crabbe and Goyle and you, well, you’re
about as tall as I am,” he realized. “But you’re supposed to be short.”
“I’m supposed to be short?” Hermione asked, amused.
“You’re a girl, so yes,” Harry said.

He continued to ramble about height, trying to ignore all of the people staring at them as they
passed. With only Crabbe and Goyle and Gryffindors guarding him, the crowd seemed to be
pressing closer.
“So, is this why you’re with Malfoy?” Ron asked, giving Harry an innocent smile. “Because
it won’t matter if you’re shorter than him?”
“Hey!” Harry protested.
“Should I hit him for you now?” Goyle asked, but he was grinning a little as he said it.
Everyone was still adjusting, but even Ron recognized that it was a joke this time. Although,
a flash of doubt crossed his features briefly.
“Hit me and I’ll hex you,” he retorted.
“Sounds like a challenge,” Goyle said, breaking out a full-blown grin.
“Harry, call off your guard dogs,” Ron said sullenly.
Harry rolled his eyes. “They’re not guard dogs,” he said. “They’re students, just like we are.”
“Nah, we’re guard dogs,” Crabbe disagreed with Harry. “And anyone who causes trouble,
we’ll tear them limb from limb.” Cracking his knuckles, he was sending the crowd back a
pace or two again.
“Uh, can we try to keep the violence to a minimum?” Harry requested.
“If you insist,” Goyle said.
“I insist,” Harry said firmly, shaking his head as they entered the shop.
There were students milling about everywhere in the store, and every one of them paused as
they recognized the group in the doorway. Nobody moved until a young girl came forward.
Harry was flabbergasted as she directed a questioning look at Crabbe and he nodded in
answer.
She stood up straighter as she faced Harry. “I wanted to say thank you,” she said.
“Er, you’re welcome,” he said.
“If there’s anything I can do for you, just let me know,” she said.
Harry arched a brow in surprise. She smiled a little before nodding and slipping away again.
“Slytherin politics,” Goyle muttered before Harry could question him, leaning down so only
Harry would hear him. “We’ll explain later.”
They’d better, Harry thought. He wasn’t prepared to deal with Slytherin politics, but it
couldn’t be bad if the girl was thanking him, could it? Hermione appeared to recognize the
girl and was gazing speculatively in the direction she’d disappeared.
She shook her head dismissively. “Let’s get our books, shall we?” she said briskly, heading
further into the shop. With a shrug, Ron followed Hermione. Mrs. Weasley had already
moved on to gather Ginny’s books.
“I reckon we shall,” Harry muttered.
Somehow, he ended up with five booklists in his hands. As he selected the appropriate books
off the shelves, they ended up in either Crabbe or Goyle’s hands. Three Potions books. Five
for Transfigurations, Charms, and Defence. Two Arithmancy. One Ancient Runes. He cast a
sidelong glance at Crabbe as he added two Divination texts to the stack he was already
carrying.
“It’s easy,” Crabbe said, with a shrug that almost dislodged half the stack of books.
Harry simply nodded, moving on. There was a great deal of whispering, but no one came
near them so Harry did his best to ignore it. Once they had all their books and Harry had paid
for them, they headed back outside, leaving a wake of murmuring speculation behind them.
“Well, that was fun,” Harry said sarcastically. “Where’s Ron and Hermione?” he asked
Remus and Mr. Weasley who’d been on guard outside the shop.
“Still inside,” Remus answered. “Caught by the books I would expect.”
“Yeah, probably,” Harry agreed. He’d been in a hurry to get out of there as soon as possible,
but even with Hermione’s love of books he’d thought she’d be done before him. He’d been
shopping for five, after all.
He glanced curiously at all the heavy bags Crabbe and Goyle were now holding. They’d
taken them from the shopkeeper and refused to let Harry even carry his own. Remus
suggested they shrink them and made quick work of the task until Goyle was left holding
only one bag with all of books. Harry knew it was still heavy, but Goyle wasn’t complaining.
Mr. Weasley and Remus made plans for everyone to meet at the Ice Cream Parlour in an hour
and Remus led Harry and the two Slytherins towards Madam Malkin’s.
There appeared to be even more people in Diagon Alley. Certainly Harry was spotting more
and more students now that it was a little later in the morning. Most gave him a wide berth,
but a few waved in greeting.
“Hello, Harry,” Padma and Parvati chorused, smiling as they passed in the other direction.
They even nodded to Crabbe and Goyle, much to the Slytherins’ surprise. Harry grinned,
happy to know not everyone was going to shun him. And, apparently, not everyone would be
shunning the Slytherins, either.
“Hey, Harry!” Seamus shouted in greeting.
Harry stopped and turned nervously.
Dean was shaking his head as they approached. “This looks very wrong,” he said, but he was
smiling.
“Ron and Hermione have definitely changed,” Seamus agreed, grinning idiotically.
Harry rolled his eyes, but he was relieved. “They’re still in Flourish and Blotts,” he said. “I’m
supposed to be meeting Draco at Madam Malkin’s.”
“So you stole his guards?” Dean asked curiously. He was probably the only person in the
school taller than them and certainly wasn’t intimidated.
“Draco has Blaise and Ginny with him,” Harry said, shrugging uncomfortably. Ginny wasn’t
the easiest topic to bring up around Dean.
Dean frowned. “She’s all right with Zabini?” he asked.
“Yeah, he’s not a bad bloke,” Harry said.
Dean nodded in acceptance.
“Great!” Seamus exclaimed. “Best be moving on! See you at Hogwarts, Harry!” He paused,
eyeing Crabbe and Goyle. “Guess we’ll be seeing you as well,” he said cheerfully.
“Keep an eye on Harry,” Dean said dryly.
Harry shook his head as his bodyguards nodded solemnly. Dean and Seamus walked away
laughing. Harry wondered if Seamus had been hit with a Cheering Charm. He mentally
wished Dean luck with trying to tame his enthusiasm.
“Harry,” Remus urged quietly.
“I’m coming,” Harry grumbled. He wasn’t in a particular hurry to go try on robes. Then
again, he also didn’t particularly care for the way the crowds were closing in on him,
everyone staring at him avidly.
Perhaps it hadn’t been their smartest idea to separate from the others, he thought, exchanging
a glance with a noticeably nervous Remus. Everyone had been keeping their distance thus far,
but two burly Slytherins and a werewolf apparently weren’t enough protection.
“Harry Potter! I’m so grateful to you!”
Harry stared at the witch who had materialized in front of him. No one else had been brave
enough to break the ranks of the crowd to approach him. She continued to babble her
gratitude, until Remus gently encouraged her to move on.
Unfortunately, she’d started a trend. As nothing bad had happened to her, others plucked up
the courage to speak to him, wanting to thank him personally for ridding the Wizarding world
of Voldemort.
It was a wonder that no one even appeared to notice that he wasn’t saying a word. They just
continued to babble their appreciation. Harry didn’t particularly want to be rude, but
annoyance was beginning to verge into alarm as they pressed even closer.
“Enough!” Goyle bellowed, capturing everyone’s attention as he and Crabbe pulled Harry out
of their reach.
“Back off,” Crabbe growled.
The crowd began to back up again warily.
Remus stepped forward. “Show a little respect, please,” he said. “While Harry appreciates
your gratitude and well wishes, he would also like to be able to continue with his shopping.”
Harry blinked as he realized Remus had brandished his wand at some point, although his arm
was relaxed at his side.
“We just want to ask him some questions,” someone said, as a new group of people moved
forward. It only took a second to realize they were reporters, who had probably been
shadowing his movements since soon after he first arrived in Diagon Alley.
“Harry’s not answering questions today,” Remus said. He continued talking with them,
attempting to distract them.
The reporters weren’t keen on being diverted from their prey and began shouting questions.
“Let’s go, Potter,” Crabbe said, still loosely gripping Harry’s arm.
“Yeah, sure,” Harry said, absently allowing Crabbe and Goyle to direct him to start walking
again, but some of the questions were attracting his attention.
“Mr. Potter! What do you have to say to those parents who don’t want to send their children
back to Hogwarts this year? How do you address the fact that you are now the one bringing
Death Eaters into the school?”
Harry shook free from Crabbe and Goyle and turned back to the reporters and the gawkers.
He stepped forward, glaring at the crowd that had gathered.
“Harry,” Remus warned. Harry ignored him.
“I am going back to Hogwarts in the company of heroes,” he said. “Draco Malfoy, who saved
my life. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, who turned their backs on the world of fear Voldemort
was creating. Severus Snape, who risked his life regularly for all of us. I’m proud to be
returning to Hogwarts with them.”
His eyes swept the gathering, meeting their gazes challengingly. “What do I have to say to
the parents? I say that they are letting Voldemort win if they continue to let fear and prejudice
rule their actions. If they keep their children from school, then it is their children that will be
the ones to lose.”
“But is Hogwarts safe?” one reporter persisted.
Harry’s eyes flashed dangerously, causing the reporter to take a step back.
“It will be safer at Hogwarts this year than any other year I have attended,” he said. “I would
not be returning if I felt otherwise. Headmistress McGonagall would not be opening the
school if she felt otherwise.”
“Do you want to hear about Voldemort?” he demanded suddenly. The group before him
startled but nodded eagerly in response. Quills were poised to write down every word he
uttered.
He realized that they were expecting to hear details about the final battle, but that wasn’t
what he planned to talk about. Not that he’d actually planned this at all.
“Voldemort was a half-blood wizard, orphaned at birth,” he began. From his first words, he’d
surprised them. “His name was Tom Riddle and he learned hatred at an early age.”
He gave them a brief outline of Voldemort’s life. His audience was enthralled. They hadn’t
even been aware of Voldemort’s true name, let alone the other details Harry was revealing.
His eyes again swept over the hushed gathering. “What do I have to say to the parents and
everyone else? Stop encouraging the prejudices and hatred that attempt to destroy us.
Voldemort ruled with fear and cruelty, and he did it well. That’s what I fought against.”
“I will not tolerate prejudice from anyone,” he said, the warning only lightly veiled. “This
will be a year of rebuilding the Wizarding community and I hope that it becomes a place
where I will be proud to live and raise my children. A place where people treat others with
respect.”
He spun on his heel and left them with that. The knot of people unwound, clearing him a
path. But he left the confrontation with the reporters only to be faced with another.
“No one cares what you have to say, Potter.”
Harry turned quickly, brandishing his wand as he recognized Pansy’s voice. He would hold
out judgment on anonymous people, but he knew Pansy was a threat. Particularly when he
realized she was flanked by Millicent and, the bigger threat, Nott.
“What are you doing with him?” Nott sneered, directing the question to Crabbe and Goyle.
“Keeping better company,” Crabbe said, shrugging his massive shoulders.
Harry sniggered, watching as the three Slytherins facing him flushed a horribly unattractive
red.
“Traitors,” Nott hissed angrily.
“Fuck off, Nott,” Harry sneered. “It’s not their problem if you’re not as smart as them.”
Millicent spluttered furiously. “Smart? Them?”
“Have you not noticed that they chose to be on the winning side?” Harry asked mockingly.
He eyed Pansy smugly. “I won everything, didn’t I, Pansy?”
“What did you do to Draco?” she shrieked loudly.
“I didn’t do anything to him,” Harry retorted. “Perhaps Draco simply doesn’t find anything
attractive about a bitter shrew.”
Pansy’s wand dropped from her sleeve to her hand and she was aiming at Harry. He didn’t
recognize the hex she’d been casting, but he’d blocked it before it had a chance to fully form.
Nott jerked Pansy’s wand arm back. “Not here,” he hissed. But he was eyeing Harry, Crabbe
and Goyle suspiciously. He’d noticed that Pansy’s curse hadn’t been completed. Familiar
with Crabbe and Goyle’s habits, he’d also noticed that they hadn’t moved to protect Harry.
“I wouldn’t try it again,” Harry said dangerously.
“Watch your back, Potter,” Nott sneered. “Wouldn’t want the Saviour to get stabbed.” He cast
a final disparaging glance at Crabbe and Goyle before slinking away, pulling Pansy and
Millicent along with him.
“We’re not going to stab you in the back,” Goyle grumbled.
Harry shrugged as he put his wand back in his pocket, watching them go. “I know you’re
not,” he said. “They probably think that’s what Draco’s planning. They don’t understand why
he’s with me.”
“Draco is waiting for you,” Remus said mildly.
Harry turned, surprised to see him there. He’d forgotten about him during the confrontation
with the others. He glanced around, consciously noting that he was once again in the middle
of a knot of people. This time, though, they were keeping their distance and eyeing him
warily.
He sighed and started walking, not surprised when the path cleared in front of him. He was
done with Diagon Alley and only wanted to go home. He trudged into Madam Malkin’s,
hoping Draco was ready to leave.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Draco demanded.
“I’ve been busy confirming that I’ve got allies, enemies and a fickle public,” Harry said
sarcastically. “Now, I’m going home.”
“What are you talking about?” Draco asked. “And you’re not going home yet,” he added.
“What happened, Harry?” Narcissa asked, gently guiding him to the back of the shop to be
fitted for his robes.
Harry sighed in resignation. If Narcissa was involved, he didn’t stand a chance of getting out
of there without doing whatever it was she wanted first.
“Welcome, Mr. Potter,” Madam Malkin said, smiling as she directed him to stand on one of
the stools.
He smiled ruefully, hoping her visit from the Malfoys had been going better than the last time
he’d seen them in the shop. They were the only customers present, but it wasn’t particularly
surprising that there wasn’t anyone brave enough to enter while they were there.
Crabbe and Goyle joined Blaise and Ginny off to the side. Lucius could see and hear them,
but remained near the doorway watching the crowds outside the window and Remus joined
him. Narcissa conferred with Madam Malkin as the seamstress set about Harry’s fitting.
Draco stood in front of Harry with his arms crossed over his chest, waiting impatiently for
Harry to explain. But Harry wanted an explanation first.
“Who was that?” Harry asked Crabbe and Goyle.
They understood immediately who he was referring to. “Emma Dobbs,” Crabbe answered,
causing Draco and Blaise to raise eyebrows in surprise. “She’ll be a fourth year.”
“What about her?” Draco asked.
“She declared loyalty to Potter,” Goyle said. “In the middle of Flourish and Blotts, for
everyone to hear.”
“When did she do that?” Harry demanded.
“When she said if there was anything she could do, to let her know,” Crabbe explained.
Except, that didn’t really explain it for Harry. He’d heard her words, but he wasn’t
understanding the translation.
Draco and Blaise exchanged glances.
“That just gained you a fair amount of the younger years,” Blaise said to Draco.
Draco nodded thoughtfully.
Harry held his arms out to be measured, as directed.
“Draco,” he called. “Explain it to the idiotic Gryffindor, would you? Does she have some sort
of control over the younger years or something?”
“She’s a natural leader,” Draco said. “I didn’t like her much last year –”
Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle snorted in disbelief.
“All right, so I hated the nasty little wench,” Draco admitted.
“Draco,” Narcissa admonished.
Harry glanced at her in surprise.
“You don’t insult your allies,” Narcissa said calmly.
“Of course,” Harry muttered. “I must’ve missed that rule in the manners manual.”
The room was filled with the sound of laughter.
“Harry, I sincerely doubt you’ve ever seen a book about manners, much less read it,” Draco
drawled.
“It probably wouldn’t cover the Code of Malfoy Manners anyway,” Harry said.
“True,” Draco conceded.
“So, explain the little,” Harry glanced at Narcissa, “sweet Slytherin,” he said with a false
smile. “Actually, she was kind of cute,” he admitted.
Draco’s eyes narrowed. “You best mean cute in an adorable pet kind of way,” he said.
Harry stared at him incredulously. “She’s fourteen, Draco, and a girl,” he said.
“I’m a girl,” Ginny pointed out innocently.
“Not helpful,” Harry said, turning as Madam Malkin directed. “Could we just get back to
why she’s important to you?” he asked Draco pointedly.
Draco tilted his head in acknowledgement. “She caused me a lot of trouble last year,” he said.
“She’s got a lot of control over the younger years and she hated me. Probably still does,” he
admitted. “But if she’s declared loyalty to you, she’s going to know that she’s conceding
power to me in the House again.”
“Which means we just have to contend with the upper years,” he said. “Some of them are
likely to try to cause trouble, not happy with me for being a traitor and they’ve never liked
you. Some of them could be dangerous.”
Harry exchanged a loaded glance with Crabbe and Goyle, which wasn’t missed by anyone
present.
“Uh, yeah, about that,” he said. “I’m fairly certain I’m number one on Nott’s hit list. Pansy’s
as well.”
“You’ve seen them?” Draco demanded.
“Yeah, not much actually happened, though,” Harry said. “Too many people around. Pansy
still tried to hex me, but Nott dragged her away. The ‘not now’ was rather a giveaway that
they’ll try something later,” he said, rolling his eyes.
Draco did not look happy with that news and began pacing the floor as Harry shrugged into
some new robes so that Madam Malkin could adjust them to the proper length.
“I hate to tell you this, but that’s not really the part I’m concerned about,” Harry said.
Draco’s head shot up and he halted in front of Harry. “There’s more?” he said in a
dangerously low voice.
“Er, I’m not entirely certain,” Harry said. “But Nott made some parting shot about watching
my back and Pansy still seems to believe I’ve duped you with a love potion or something. I
think they’re under the impression that you’ve just been going along all this time, using me
for your survival and now you’re set up to destroy me.”
“You don’t believe that?” Draco asked, brows raised.
“Of course not,” Harry said. “And maybe they don’t, either,” he admitted. “It’s just the
impression I got off of them.”
“What about you two?” Draco demanded. “You know them better than Harry. Was that your
impression as well?”
“Yeah,” Crabbe said. “Millicent was there, too. But the first thing Nott asked was why we
were with Potter. Like he was trying to see if we were really with him.”
Harry sniggered. “Crabbe, you were great,” he said.
Crabbe and Goyle grinned. “We are keeping better company,” Crabbe said.
“Even Draco’s better company now,” Goyle added.
Harry outright laughed at Draco’s look of indignation, and he was happy that neither Crabbe
nor Goyle looked repentant. It was the truth.
“I think I was just insulted,” Draco muttered.
“Maybe,” Harry agreed, sobering quickly. “But the ones actually insulted were Nott, Pansy,
and Millicent. They didn’t take it well.”
“Harry,” Lucius spoke up, moving over to join them. “Why are you concerned about this?”
“Because I think they could cause trouble for Draco if they’re spouting off that he’s only out
to get me,” Harry said. “I mean, there’s probably a lot of other people that think like that, but
Nott and Pansy . . . I just don’t feel comfortable with what they might do.”
“They want revenge on me, but that’s nothing new,” he said dismissively, causing raised
brows. “But I think they’d prefer to bring Draco back to their side.”
“They don’t have a side,” Draco muttered.
Harry shrugged. “Sure they do,” he said. “The evil, nasty, cruel side of Slytherin as opposed
to the cunning, manipulative, irritating side of Slytherin.”
He could hear Ginny sniggering behind him and he smirked at Draco. “Isn’t that how
Slytherin House will be split this year?” he asked.
“Probably,” Draco finally agreed, shaking his head.

“We will need to keep a very close watch on them,” Lucius said. “They will, unfortunately,
be able to find support.” He glared at Harry warningly. “You will need to watch your back.”
Harry shrugged again. “So, no different than any other year, right?” he said, with a trace of
bitterness. “No, wait. I only need to watch my back around less than half the Slytherins this
year, so it’ll be better.”
Neither Lucius nor Draco appeared to know how to respond.
“Look, I know it’s not going to be an easy year,” he said. “But ironically enough, right now I
can list the known support of more Slytherins than any other House. I don’t know how the
rest of the school is going to react to that. But, while I may not like this, I am used to it.”
“You’d just hoped it would be better this year with the Dark Lord gone,” Draco murmured in
understanding.
“You may step down, Mr. Potter,” Madam Malkin said quietly.
“I’m done?” he said in surprise.
She smiled warmly. “Yes, you are free to leave,” she said. “Arrangements for your purchases
have already been made by Mrs. Malfoy.”
“Oh,” Harry said. He still hadn’t jumped down and Draco offered his hand. Harry had
automatically accepted it before Draco started speaking.
“You can step down from your pedestal, Harry,” he drawled.
“Prat,” Harry scowled.
“We are expected to meet the others shortly,” Remus spoke up, pointing out the time.
“I don’t want to go,” Harry said, not losing the scowl.
Of course, he went anyway, with Draco scowling and muttering about the public the entire
walk to Fortescue’s.
Ron and Hermione were already there waiting and Fred and George had somehow replaced
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Harry plonked into a chair across from them, Draco dropping down
beside him.
“Do you think you can stay out of trouble here?” Lucius drawled. “If you can, we shall finish
getting your supplies.”
“It’s not my fault,” Harry muttered.
Lucius arched a brow.

“Fine, I’ll try,” Harry grumbled. “I’ve got my requisite evil Slytherins with me to scare
everyone away.”
“We will return soon and I expect to find you here,” Lucius warned before disappearing with
Narcissa and Remus. Harry stared after them, realizing that was an odd group of people to be
shopping together, but then recognized that they’d likely be splitting up the shopping. He
rather thought they should just leave Narcissa to the task and it’d somehow magically be
done in twenty minutes.
“Don’t know why everyone insists on me staying here,” he said sourly.
“Because it’s a day out,” Draco snapped. “We’re with your bloody friends now so just relax,
would you?”
Harry stared at him incredulously. “Relax, of course,” he said, slapping his forehead. “Why
didn’t I think of that?”
“What happened?” Hermione risked cutting in, eying them warily.
“Oh, I just got mobbed, threatened, and fitted for robes,” Harry answered breezily. “Pleasant
day, isn’t it?”
Ron and Fred started choking on their ice cream.
“Very pleasant day, mate,” George agreed, grinning. “Ice cream?”
“We’ll get them,” Ginny said, dragging Blaise inside the shop. Crabbe and Goyle pulled up
chairs at the end of the table.
“Oh, Harry,” Hermione said sadly. “Were you really mobbed by this crowd?”
“Yes, but whatever you have to say about it, I’m sure I’ve already heard it from Draco,”
Harry muttered. “Warn me if he tries to pull his wand.”
“I haven’t hexed anyone,” Draco retorted.
“I didn’t say you did,” Harry snapped. “But you’ve threatened.”
“How can you defend them?” Draco demanded.
“Because they’ve not actually done anything wrong!” Harry exclaimed.
“You were mobbed, Harry,” Draco ground out.
“I wasn’t actually attacked,” Harry said. “No one even shook my hand because Crabbe and
Goyle wouldn’t let them. There was too many of them and they were too close, but they
didn’t actually do anything wrong.”
He was extremely irritated that he was being forced to defend people he didn’t truly feel like
defending.
“I just don’t like all the bloody attention,” he said. “I’m sure pictures of me, and you, will be
spread all over the Daily Prophet tomorrow.”
“Yes, and it’s a great public image you’ve got there,” Draco drawled mockingly.
Harry decided it was wiser not to mention that Draco had lost his own cool composure and
wasn’t exactly portraying the public image he’d hoped for at the start of the morning. Harry
hadn’t particularly tried for an image. He’d simply attempted to go about his shopping.
He dropped his head to the table with a loud thunk. He was rather certain the public would
see him as a raving lunatic by the time the Prophet detailed his activities for the day.
It didn’t matter that he wasn’t really behaving differently than any of the other students his
age shopping in Diagon Alley. Teasing and taunting, jokes and minor arguments,
confrontations with ex-girlfriends and apparently the new school bullies, meeting up with
friends and sharing hugs with his boyfriend. Of course, Harry added in factors like Slytherin
politics, an adoring public and the fact that his boyfriend was hated by much of the same
public.
He was acting like a teenager, when most people wanted him to act like a hero. He couldn’t
do it, no matter how much they wanted him to. He couldn’t imagine behaving remotely like
Lockhart, catering to his fan club. In fact, while he did his best to ignore the close scrutiny, he
could only handle it for so long.
A visit to Diagon Alley less than two weeks after killing off a Dark Lord? Worst mistake
ever, he was certain. He’d been amazed at the attention he’d garnered years after Voldemort
had disappeared the last time. Had he honestly been so naïve to think that people would
respect his space mere days after Voldemort’s final defeat?
Draco’s fingers had found their way to his hair and he wasn’t inclined to move, but Blaise
and Ginny returned with sundaes. It was worth moving for ice cream.
“How did you get them so quickly?” he asked, as they placed large sundaes in front of
himself and Draco as well as Crabbe and Goyle.
He had been making a concerted effort to ignore it, but the establishment was extremely busy
and there were long lines.
“We’re war heroes and friends of Harry Potter,” Blaise answered dryly, sitting down next to
Ginny with their own sundaes.
“I’m not honestly certain which he was more excited about,” Ginny said. “He insisted on
serving us first but, for some reason, he was chattering about hearing stories of medieval
witchcraft from his father.”
“Florean was his father, then,” Harry said, catching a glimpse of the man as he bustled about
inside the shop. “I thought they looked alike.”
“Are you telling us you didn’t even hear the man and you understand his lunacy?” Draco
asked, brow raised in disbelief.
Scooping a bite of ice cream into his mouth, Harry shrugged. “It’s not lunacy,” he said. “I
spent a lot of time here before third year working on my summer assignments. His father
gave me free sundaes and told me stories about medieval witchcraft to help me with one of
my essays. I gather his son knew about it.”
“Has anyone ever found him?” Ron asked, scraping the bottom of his dish for the last of the
hot fudge.
Harry wasn’t the only one to notice all the eyes shifting to Draco, but Draco said nothing,
focusing on his ice cream. It wasn’t a topic that had come up between them before, but Harry
suspected Draco probably did know something. It was simply far too late to do anything for
the victims.
“They’ve not found any of the missing people,” Hermione answered after an awkward
moment of silence. “I believe the Ministry is hoping information about them will be revealed
during the Death Eater trials.”
“When are they starting them?” Harry asked, frowning. Would Severus or any of the Malfoys
be testifying?
“They’ve already started,” Hermione said.
Harry glanced at her in surprise. “When?” he asked. He hadn’t heard anything but, as usual,
she was a wealth of information.
Draco glanced at him askance. “Last Friday,” he drawled. “You were the star witness.”
“I didn’t mean you,” Harry retorted. “I meant the trials for the real Death Eaters.”
“Harry, Malfoy’s right,” Hermione said. “That will surely have been the biggest of all the
Death Eater trials. But to answer your question, there’s been a great deal going on at the
Ministry. I don’t believe they’ll be starting the other trials for a couple more weeks.”
“Snape will be the main witness for most of them,” she answered before Harry could ask.
“And Lupin will be covering his classes when he has to be at the Ministry. I think they’ll both
be spending time with Shacklebolt next week preparing for the trials.”
He had no idea how she could know this when he didn’t. She’d clearly got her information
from someone other than Severus.
“Do you have to testify?” he asked Draco.
“No,” Draco said flatly. “I think my parents will be for some of them, but I won’t even be
attending. If I never see any of them again, it’ll be too soon.”
Frowning at him in concern, Harry hoped that maybe someday Draco would tell him what
had happened the summer he was marked. And what exactly had happened after he’d
returned to Voldemort after failing to kill Dumbledore. He only knew that Draco had hid out
in his room much of the time for the following month, avoiding the Death Eaters.
It had been a difficult time for Draco, and Harry refused to pressure him into talking about it.
He had his own topics that were painful to talk about and understood the reluctance all too
well. He and Draco might be mixed up in a lot of ways, but they had time for healing now.
They’d made it this far; they could make it through anything. Even a trip to the Ice Cream
Parlour with hundreds of eyes watching their every move.
“Well, it’s good you won’t be involved,” Harry said lightly. “You promised me that we get to
relax.”
“I did, didn’t I?” Draco said, a smirk forming.
“What are we doing next week?” Ron cut in curiously.
“Harry and I are having sex, playing Quidditch, having more sex, sleeping,” Draco drawled.
“Do you need me to continue, or can you recognize the pattern?”
Hermione blushed, Ron looked mildly disturbed, and the others laughed.
“Then I gather we’re done helping the professors?” Ginny asked hopefully.
“Yes,” Draco said firmly, waving his spoon at Harry in warning. “Harry’s going to behave
himself.”
“It wasn’t wrong to help them,” Harry pointed out.
“No, it wasn’t,” Hermione agreed. “I think Snape especially needed the extra help because he
won’t have as much time next week to prepare for the new term.”
“Where is Snape, anyway?” Ginny asked. “Shouldn’t he have been back by now?”
“He’s watching us from across the street,” Draco said casually, causing the others to
immediately turn and look.
Harry found he wasn’t that surprised. Severus had probably been watching them from the
shadows almost the entire time.
“That’s a little creepy,” Ron said, shuddering.
“Why?” Harry asked. “We’ve always had escorts and people watching over us when I’m
around.”
“But it’s not been Snape,” Ron said. “Why couldn’t we have had Tonks or someone else?”
“I think she’s around somewhere, too,” Harry said, glancing around at the other customers.
“Severus was worried about how well things would go today and I don’t think he wanted to
rely only on himself and the Malfoys if people decided to cause trouble with them being here.
I thought he was being overly paranoid, but obviously not.”
“It’s a good thing you didn’t bring Victoria,” Hermione said.
“I didn’t realize it would be this crazy, but even I knew all of the attention would be
overwhelming for her,” Harry admitted.
He narrowed his eyes at a tiny, blonde witch a few tables over who was waving and
scrunching her nose at him. She was sitting with someone Harry didn’t recognize, but there
could be Polyjuice involved.
“I think that’s Tonks over there,” he said and the witch beamed a wide grin in answer.
“Bloody hell,” Ron muttered. “And I thought Mum and Dad actually trusted us, but they
were having us watched the entire time.”
“After last year, can you blame them?” Harry asked.
“But they didn’t know we’d disappeared,” Ron protested.
“Your dad did,” Harry said, shrugging. “I told him, but he already knew anyway.”
“You told him?!” Ron exclaimed.
Harry glanced at Draco, who was listening with interest. “Er, yeah,” he said. “I wanted him to
look into what Draco was doing, but he didn’t believe me any more than you and Hermione.”
Ron sighed heavily. “Which is why I’m trusting you now and somehow sitting across from
Draco bloody Malfoy,” he said.
“It’s no better on my end trusting Harry,” Draco sneered. “I’m sitting across from you. Makes
me wonder if it’s worth it.”
Harry abruptly pulled Draco close and kissed him. Their mouths were cold from the ice
cream but heated up quickly. Harry swept his tongue through Draco’s mouth, tasting the
caramel and mixing it with the taste of the hot fudge from the sundae he’d been eating. He
quickly decided it was a pleasant combination.
“Not worth it?” he asked breathlessly when he pulled away.
Draco blinked away the lustful haze from his eyes. “I reckon I can survive Weasley’s
presence,” he decided.
With a smug smirk, Harry dipped his spoon into Draco’s sundae. “I’ve discovered a taste for
caramel,” he said in answer to Draco’s arched brow.
The others burst out in laughter, even Ron.
“You two are incorrigible,” Hermione said, shaking her head with a mixture of amusement
and exasperation.
“Your point?” Draco asked, making a show of stealing a bite from Harry’s sundae.
“Do you realize there’ll probably be a picture of you two snogging on the front page of the
Prophet tomorrow?” she asked.
Harry blinked. “Well, I reckon there could be worse pictures,” he said, thinking he was glad
he didn’t pay much attention to the publications.
“If there is, I’ll have to frame it,” Draco declared. “And everyone else can simply be jealous
that Harry’s mine.”
“Frame it?” Harry squawked in protest.
“Why not?” Draco asked. “We look good together.”
“Well, Harry,” Ron said, “at least you’ve chosen to be with someone who’s not afraid of all
the publicity.”
*****
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Notes

Chapter Sixty
Apparating to Hogwarts, Harry was rather suspicious. Amazingly, there’d been no reporters
at the gates. A few Aurors had been present, nodding politely, but not saying a word.
It wasn’t even ten o’clock in the morning and he’d understood the feast and celebration
wouldn’t be until that evening. He also didn’t understand why he was required to wear formal
dress robes. He’d discovered that he’d been fitted for them the previous afternoon while he’d
thought he was being fitted for school robes. Although, he got new school robes out of the
deal as well.
Draco had only talked him into wearing the new robes by promising to wear actual Muggle
jeans later in the day. For that, Harry was willing to compromise and he wasn’t going to
allow Draco to go back on his word. For now, though, they looked like proper, well-dressed
wizards striding across Hogwarts grounds to the castle.
“We’re almost there,” Harry said. “Do you think you could tell me what we’re doing now?”
Draco tilted his head thoughtfully. “No, I don’t think so,” he said.
Harry glared at him sullenly. He was wearing dress robes. Whatever was going on surely
wouldn’t be pleasant for him. Particularly since no one would even tell him what was
happening. And Draco had just confirmed that he did know.
“Relax, Harry,” Draco said, taking his hand and squeezing in reassurance.
“You know, I’m beginning to hate that word,” Harry observed. “I don’t know what you could
possibly think is relaxing about walking into an unknown situation.”
“My mistake,” Draco drawled, smirking at him. “I thought waltzing into the unknown was
your trademark.”
Harry shot him a dirty look, simply causing Draco to laugh.
They entered the Great Hall and stood just inside the doors while Harry attempted to
comprehend what was happening. A wedding? A funeral?
The House tables had been moved to the edges of the room and chairs were lined up in rows.
Everyone who had taken part in the final battle was there, dressed in their finest and sitting at
the front of the room. There were also a great number of people who, if Harry had to guess,
were the families of those who had been involved. He recognized a few people here and
there, including Neville’s grandmother and Hermione’s parents.
A hush fell over the room as they were noticed and Draco led him to seats in the front row. A
terrible lot of people were gazing at him with knowing amusement.
“Now can you tell me what’s going on?” he hissed in Draco’s ear.
Draco wasn’t given the opportunity to answer as McGonagall stood to address the room.
Apparently she’d only been waiting for him and Draco.
“I welcome all of you to Hogwarts,” she said. “It is my deepest honour to be here as we show
our appreciation to those who have made it possible for us to be here today.”
Harry automatically started to rise as he finally realized what was happening. He wanted no
part of this. Unfortunately, Draco, and apparently everyone else, had anticipated his reaction.
There was a rumble of laughter as Draco pulled Harry back into his seat.
“Draco,” he hissed. “Why’d you bring me to this?”
“Because you deserve recognition,” Draco said. “As do a lot of other people,” he added
pointedly. “You don’t want to dishonour them, do you?”
Harry glared at him. “No, of course not,” he said. Draco certainly knew how to play his guilt
buttons.
“Then stay put and show some respect,” Draco said.
“Has our reluctant hero agreed to stay, Mr. Malfoy?” McGonagall asked.
Draco nodded firmly and Harry wanted to slide out of existence. As that wasn’t possible, he
flushed horribly in embarrassment as another burst of laughter rumbled through the Hall.
They were all in on the scheme to get me here, he thought sourly. While he thoroughly
respected that the others deserved recognition, he had no desire to receive yet more
recognition himself. In fact, he’d have happily attended if he didn’t have to hear about his
own heroic deeds. Which, of course, was what he was currently listening to as McGonagall
lauded his achievements.
Harry dutifully did his best to pay attention. He was relieved when she started mentioning the
other people who had been involved. He listened with rapt attention as she lauded Severus’
efforts during the war. Severus deserved far more recognition than him. And hearing Severus’
achievements being publicly acknowledged was a very nice change of pace.
The Order, the Aurors, the DA, the Slytherins, the Malfoys, Ron and Hermione. Everyone
was mentioned for their achievements.
“Harry Potter and Severus Snape, if you could please come forward,” McGonagall said
solemnly.
Harry didn’t want to go up there. He looked to Draco pleadingly, as if he could get him out of
it, but Draco was gazing at him proudly and urged him forward. Proudly? Since when did
Draco look at him proudly for something like this? Draco was generally as irritated as Harry
with all the public recognition Harry received.
Resigned, Harry went to stand beside Severus. Kingsley had stepped up as well and stood
beside McGonagall. Harry glanced up at Severus curiously, but Severus stood stoically. Not a
speck of emotion to be found.
“It is my great honour as Minister for Magic to present each of you with the Order of Merlin,
First Class,” Kingsley said, his deep voice resonating with proper solemnity.
Harry stared blankly as Kingsley pinned the medal to his robes before doing the same with
Severus. He barely registered the camera flashes. He was receiving an Order of Merlin? He
glanced at Severus and finally felt an incredible rush of pride. He’d done what he’d set out to
do, but not without Severus’ help. He was proud to be able to stand beside Severus, who was
finally receiving the medal he’d deserved for so long.
Thankfully, they weren’t asked to give speeches. There were more awards to be given. An
Order of Merlin – either Second or Third Class – was awarded to everyone who had been
involved in the final battle. Draco, Remus, Ron and Hermione, Ginny and Blaise, Fred and
George, Lucius and Narcissa – everyone who had been at the centre of the war with Harry
and Severus received an Order of Merlin, Second Class.
Harry thought they were being slighted, but they all seemed to be happy enough. Although,
happy was a huge understatement. Ron looked like he was going to start flying without his
broom. Hermione and Ginny were walking on air. In contrast, Fred and George appeared
grounded for once and accepted their awards solemnly.
Remus’ gaze kept straying to Severus, overflowing with pride and affection that he couldn’t
completely hide. Draco, Blaise, Lucius and Narcissa managed to receive their awards with
grace, although Draco appeared stunned afterwards.
Tonks tripped up the steps to receive her award, much to everyone’s amusement. Harry
watched with pride as each member of the DA and all of the neutral Slytherins received
recognition. He couldn’t have been prouder of Neville and Crabbe and Goyle.
Kingsley had his turn to speak when all of the awards had been handed out, expressing his
pride in all of them.
“I have one more award,” he announced, just when Harry thought the ceremony would be
over.
He was shocked when Kingsley produced a parchment and read portions of Pettigrew’s
confession, detailing his misdeeds in regards to Sirius and the Potters. Harry had no idea
when Severus had taken it to Kingsley. If he was honest, he had forgotten about the
enchanted parchment upon which Pettigrew had signed his confession. Kingsley informed his
captivated audience that Sirius Black had been cleared of all crimes and was posthumously
awarded the Order of Merlin.
Harry didn’t know how he felt about it, but he accepted the award when Kingsley called him
up and presented it to him. He was upset that Sirius’ name had never been cleared while he
was alive. Sirius should’ve been there, accepting his award. But he was grateful that Sirius
was finally being cleared in the eyes of the public. Truths were finally being told.
McGonagall spoke again, mentioning all those whose lives had been lost during the war. By
the time she’d finished, Harry was a jumbled knot of nerves. Thinking about his parents and
Sirius and Severus and Remus and they were all separate but all tied together. Cedric and, of
course, Dumbledore. He sucked in several deep breaths, attempting to calm his racing
thoughts and settle himself.
All in all, he was relieved when it was over. Enough tears were flowing in the room to float
the castle. He gave Draco a congratulatory kiss but then Draco moved on to his parents and
Harry was swept away by his friends. He received hugs, pats on the back, handshakes and
congratulations from a blur of people. Mrs. Weasley attempted to smother him. He felt
uncertain whether Hagrid was going to crush him or drown him.
When he could, he found it much safer to be the one doing the congratulating. He ran into
Hermione again and she excitedly re-introduced her parents to him. He found it ironic that
Ron and Hermione didn’t even remember the major reason they’d earned their awards. They
didn’t seem to care, though, as they had done a lot more than just help him with the
Horcruxes.
Luna was chattering non-stop with her father, but paused to give Harry a huge hug.
“Thanks, Harry,” she said.
“But I didn’t do anything,” he protested. “I’m the one who should be thanking you and your
father.”
She tilted her head. “No, you didn’t,” she agreed. “You are my friend just because. That’s
what makes you all the more special.”
He was left staring after her in confusion as her and her father wandered away. Shaking his
head, he decided he should go search for some sane people – people who wouldn’t have let
all the fuss go to their heads.
Stepping up to Severus and Remus, he tried to decide what he should say. Congratulations.
Thank You. Words that simply weren’t going to convey the depths of what he was feeling.
Remus’ eyes were red, but they were dry. Severus was holding himself as stiffly as ever,
keeping a tight hold on any emotions he might be feeling.
“Harry, are you all right?” Remus asked, making Harry realize that he still hadn’t said
anything.
He flung his arms around Remus and hugged tightly. No, he wasn’t all right. He was an
emotional wreck but didn’t particularly want to reveal that fact to everyone present.
Although, anyone who knew him already realized that he was an emotional mess at the
moment.
A tentative hand on Harry’s shoulder had him peeking out of Remus’ robes to look up at
Severus.
“I’m proud of you, Harry,” Severus said.
Harry blinked furiously.
“I am, as well,” Remus whispered. He kissed the top of Harry’s head before gently pushing
him towards Severus.
Unable to speak, even if he knew what to say, Harry hugged Severus instead. There wasn’t
anything traditional, legal, or formal about his adopted parents, but they were his, regardless.
He’d claimed them and didn’t intend to let them go.
And, oh Merlin, what an amazing feeling it was to have parents who were proud of him. All
around the Great Hall students were being hugged and congratulated by their parents and
Harry understood what they were feeling. He knew why Draco had gone to talk with his
parents.
He finally truly understood why Draco had always pushed so hard to please them. If this was
the rush of feeling he got when he succeeded, it was no wonder Draco had worked for it.
“Potter, you are wrinkling my robes,” Severus said after a minute, his voice rough.
Harry laughed a little, trying to find some composure. “You sound like a Malfoy,” he said.
“It is Narcissa who insisted on this blasted robe,” Severus said sourly.
So, Harry hadn’t been the only one forced into robes he didn’t want to wear. He stepped back,
smoothing the wrinkles out of the soft velvet robes Severus was wearing. They were still
black, but the velvet material somehow softened the colour. The deep silver trim and
embroidery along the cuffs and collar added an elegance that was definitely lacking from
Severus’ usual choice of attire.
Tilting his head curiously, Harry looked Severus over. He was still too thin, but his skin
looked healthier than it had for awhile. And his hair still curtained his face, but it had been
freshly washed for the occasion and appeared soft and shiny. Really, Severus looked quite
nice.
“Narcissa made a good choice. You look very handsome,” Harry said.
“He does, doesn’t he?” Remus said, sounding a little smug and very pleased.
Harry’s eyes widened. Was Severus blushing? He watched Remus whisper something in
Severus’ ear. Severus was definitely blushing. He couldn’t help but think that later Remus
would likely be paying for whatever he’d just said. Despite the lingering blush, Severus had
taken on a rather predatory air. Remus, though, simply looked more smug.
Grinning, Harry began backing away. “I think I’ll, um, just go find Draco,” he said. “Leave
you two alone.”
Severus’ eyes narrowed dangerously, but Remus was laughing as Harry turned and walked
away. Harry delighted in the sound of Remus’ happiness and felt much lighter himself.
He started searching for Draco but ran into Neville and his grandmother first.
“I’ve always said you’d make us proud, Harry Potter,” she said. “More backbone than all
those worthless Ministry officials combined.”
Harry nodded in acknowledgement. “I should hope you’re proud of Neville, ma’am,” he said.
“I’m certainly proud of what he’s done and I’m honoured to have him as one of my friends.”
“Are you censuring me, boy?” she demanded.
“No, ma’am,” he said. “Just stating the truth.”
“Hmmph, first Minerva and now you,” she said. “I’ll have you both know that I’m very
proud of my grandson.”
The look she bestowed on Neville did indeed match her words. Neville was blushing, but
beaming a wide smile. Harry sincerely hoped Neville wouldn’t have to live in his shadow any
longer when it came to his grandmother.
He talked with them a couple minutes more before moving on.
“I wouldn’t go that way if I were you,” Fred warned, sidling up beside him. George appeared
on his other side.
“It’s horrible, it is,” George agreed.
“What’s horrible?” Harry asked, confused. Everyone seemed rather happy, despite the tears
still being shed throughout the room.
“Percy,” the twins said in unison, with equal amounts of disgust injected into the name.
“Percy?” Harry questioned. He’d seen him off to the side earlier, but he’d assumed Percy was
there in some sort of official capacity. The awards had been presented by the Ministry, after
all.
He finally spotted the group of redheads and was surprised to see Mrs. Weasley hugging
Percy tightly. Even from where he was standing, Harry could see that she was gushing
happily. Mr. Weasley was smiling. Everyone else, though, had stepped back. Bill and
Charlie’s faces were suspiciously blank. Ron and Ginny weren’t hiding their disgust very
well.
“What’s happened?” Harry asked.
Fred sighed dramatically. “Dearest Percy has discovered the error of his ways,” he said.
“Begging the family for forgiveness.”
“He’s finally figured out that he’s the blight on the family name,” George said.
“The only one of us without an Order of Merlin,” Fred agreed.
“Probably came crawling back so we can help him gain a better position in the Ministry
again,” George said.
“Do you think I’m still unbalanced and violent, or do you think Percy considers it all right for
Ron to associate with me now?” Harry wondered curiously.
Draco’s arms slid around his waist from behind him. Only startling briefly, Harry relaxed in
his arms.
“Oh, you’re definitely unbalanced and violent,” Draco drawled. “And you should not be
allowed to associate with that Weasley.”
“What about these two Weasleys?” Harry asked, sniggering. Fred and George dropped to
their knees and silently begged Draco with puppy dog eyes. “Can I keep them?”
“If you insist,” Draco said, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.
They popped back to their feet, grinning widely.
“We’re award winners now,” Fred stage-whispered. “Made Malfoy proud of us.”
“Either that, or I simply have some strange desire to associate with the unbalanced,” Draco
said dryly, making them all laugh.
“Where is the rest of our unbalanced group?” Harry asked. He was rather surprised that the
twins and Draco had been able to find him with all the people milling about.
Draco shifted Harry sideways in his arms so he could look him in the eye. “Do you mean to
tell me that you haven’t realized Crabbe and Goyle have been ten steps behind you this entire
time?”
Trying to look over Draco’s shoulder, Harry finally spotted them and waved them over.
Draco shook his head. “Harry, this is dangerous,” he said. “You don’t even recognize when
people are following you.”
“People are always following me,” Harry protested. “What do you want me to do about it?”
He didn’t like the wicked gleam that formed in Draco’s eyes. “No, we’re not going to start
hexing people,” he said.
Draco sneered at him. “It’s a good thing Crabbe and Goyle are watching your back,” he said.
Harry noticed Draco hadn’t agreed to not hex anyone and his eyes narrowed. “Have you
happened to notice that everyone is friendly at this event?” he asked.
“No, they’re not,” Draco said flatly. “But I have noticed that you’re far too trusting.”
Turning the rest of the way so that he was facing Draco, Harry kissed him lightly. “I end up
with unexpectedly brilliant rewards when I trust people,” he said.
He was pleased when his words were rewarded with a lazy smirk and a nod in concession.
“They’re serving lunch now,” Goyle observed.
Harry dropped his forehead onto Draco’s shoulder, laughing. Gryffindors, Slytherins, it didn’t
matter. There was always someone who made sure that you didn’t miss mealtimes.
They made their way outside with everyone else. The house-elves had set up a picnic
luncheon for the special occasion. Harry had eaten outside plenty of times before, but never
so formally. It was different and fun.
And just the kind of thing Dumbledore would’ve appreciated. Harry glanced at McGonagall
suspiciously, wondering it that was why she’d elected to have the awards and meal in
backwards locations. He put it out of his mind quickly and simply enjoyed the meal.
Most everyone sat with their families and Harry was no different. His family was simply a
little more eclectic than most and now seemed to include Crabbe and Goyle. Victoria was
absolutely adorable in her pink frilly dress and tiny white shoes.
She was certainly not lacking for attention, winning the hearts of most everyone she met. She
was having lunch with them, but before they’d sat down, Mrs. Weasley had offered to watch
her for the afternoon. What amazed Harry was the fact that Draco had readily agreed. Not
only that, but he’d bargained with Mrs. Weasley to keep her until the next day.
Although, it hadn’t exactly been bargaining. Draco had only needed to casually suggest that
Harry was in need of a day without any responsibilities and Mrs. Weasley was volunteering.
“Why’d you do that?” Harry asked.
“Because we’re going to be irresponsible teenagers for once,” Draco said.

“Er, all right,” Harry said. “But why with Mrs. Weasley? I mean, I’m fine with that,” he
added quickly. “I just didn’t think you would be.”
“Because you won’t worry if Victoria is with her,” Draco admitted. He glared warningly at
Harry over the top of Victoria’s head. “You’re not going to worry about anything today. No
responsibilities, no worries, no fights.”
Harry pondered that for a minute. “So, what am I supposed to do with my time then?” he
asked with a cheeky grin.
Draco snorted with laughter. “It will be a change of pace for you,” he agreed.
After lunch, a surprising number of people migrated to the Quidditch pitch. No one
particularly wanted to go back indoors in the pleasant summer weather. Harry wasn’t certain
if Remus had forced Severus to the spectator stands or if Severus had willingly chosen to
spend time outdoors, but he was there. Some people, like Hermione’s parents, had never seen
a Quidditch game and it was a new experience.
They certainly had enough players to put together teams. In fact, with a change from dress
robes to Quidditch robes, Harry’s old team quickly formed and Fred and George pulled him
into their midst, claiming him. With Katie, Alicia, and Angelina together again as Chasers,
and Ron as Keeper, they had the same team they’d had briefly in the past. With Ron as the
exception, they had practiced countless hours together.
Fred and George put up a challenge that no one would be able to beat them. And they were
right. Kind of. They played a fair game at first, winning easily against teams thrown together.
Then it turned into a hilarious free-for-all with everyone else against the Gryffindor team.
Harry was suddenly competing against three seekers – Draco, Charlie, and Cho. Ginny, Dean,
and Zacharias were Chasers on the House teams, but they pulled in Blaise and Seamus and
anyone else they could talk into playing. Crabbe and Goyle were the only Beaters on the
opposing team, but they ended up with two Keepers, as Bill and Fleur were given the task of
guarding the goalposts.
It was the wildest, most fun game of Quidditch Harry had ever played – that any of them had
ever played or watched. McGonagall handed over commentating duties to Luna once again
and her style matched the game to perfection. She had absolutely everyone, players included,
in stitches.
They spent most of the afternoon in the air before McGonagall called a halt, announcing that
the evening’s feast would commence shortly and suggesting that everyone might take the
opportunity to freshen up.
Quick showers, back into dress robes and the high-spirited group was heading back up to the
castle. They tumbled into the Great Hall laughing, but stopped abruptly, spilling over each
other. Crowded in the doorway, they stared at the room.
In the excitement of Quidditch, Harry had forgotten that the celebration was also meant to be
Bill and Fleur’s wedding reception.
“Oh, it’s beautiful,” Hermione breathed.
The Great Hall had been transformed into a white and gold, elegant fantasy with touches of
summer flowers. The room was reminiscent of the Yule Ball in its splendour. Small tables
dotted the room, dressed in brilliant white tablecloths. The largest, most beautifully decorated
cake Harry had ever seen was displayed prominently at the front of the room.
“Er, is there going to be dancing later?” Harry asked, his eyes darting about the room and
continuing to process what he was seeing.
“Of course,” Draco drawled. The group sniggered at Harry’s disbelieving glare.
“And no one thought to tell me this?” he asked.
“Would you have come if we’d told you?” Draco countered.
“Exactly,” he said at Harry’s hesitation.
“I would’ve come,” Harry protested, too late. “It not like I have to dance or anything.”
“Oh, yes you do,” Draco said.
“It’s for your own good, Harry,” Hermione said sternly, but she looked like she was trying not
to laugh. Glancing around him, he realized they were all trying not to laugh. Ron was the
only one gazing at him with understanding and sympathy.
“Sorry, mate,” he said. “I’m told I have to dance as well.”
“Why didn’t you at least warn me?” Harry asked.
Ron glanced nervously at Hermione, then Draco. “Uh, because I happen to like my bits
where they’re at,” he said.
Hermione looked satisfied. Draco looked smug. Laughter finally overflowed. Harry sighed in
resignation.
Ron slung an arm around his shoulders, urging Harry to start walking. “Let’s go eat, yeah?”
“Sure, Ron,” Harry said dryly. “Food will solve everything.”
“It’s got to be better than dancing on an empty stomach,” Ron said reasonably.
“How do you figure that?” Harry asked incredulously. They continued to debate the merits of
eating and dancing as they found a table and took their seats. But Quidditch quickly found
itself the centre of discussion again. Surprisingly, it was Hermione who brought up the topic.
“Malfoy,” she said. “As Head Boy, don’t you think there should be more fun activities for the
students?”
“I don’t know that we’re in agreement on the definition of fun,” Draco drawled, but she had
his full attention.
Harry and Ron shared a look that had Hermione scowling irritably at all three of them.
“Just because I don’t normally care for Quidditch, it doesn’t mean I don’t know how to have
fun,” she snapped. “I can even have fun playing Quidditch if I have to. I was Harry’s partner
last summer, wasn’t I?”
Ginny was included in the look Harry and Ron shared.
“Oh, honestly,” Hermione huffed. “I know I didn’t contribute anything to the game itself,
since Harry’s good enough to play against you two by himself. The point was that we had
fun. Like today.”
“What are you suggesting, Hermione?” Harry asked curiously.
“That we do this again,” she said, as if the answer was obvious. “I don’t know, just get
everyone out maybe once a month. No House divisions. No real competition. I didn’t even
get on a broom today and it was fun.”
“So, what do you think, Malfoy?” she asked. “Do you think we could arrange something like
this for the entire school?”
Harry knew perfectly well that she could arrange it by herself, and was grateful that she was
including Draco in the first real decision they were making as Head Boy and Girl. He vowed
to do something special for his best friend, knowing she was making this extra effort for him.
He couldn’t ask for better friends.
“I think it’s a brilliant idea,” Draco admitted. “After today, McGonagall would surely
approve and it might be a way for us to get the Slytherins interacting with the rest of the
school.”
Hermione beamed and Draco sighed.
“Never thought I’d see the day when Malfoy was agreeing with Hermione about something,”
Ron observed. “Especially Quidditch.”
“Me, neither,” Draco muttered.
“Oh, you’ll both get over it,” Hermione said blithely. “Now, we need a plan.”
Enthusiastic discussion followed as they ate their dinner. Everyone had ideas to share. They
were all a little surprised to find they’d cleared their plates when McGonagall called for
everyone’s attention. Toasts were made to Bill and Fleur, cake was served and in no time at
all the floor was cleared for dancing.
Harry was beyond relieved that Bill and Fleur were the ones to have the first dance. Bill spun
her around the floor and they were radiantly happy. Harry glanced over at Hermione and
Ginny.
“They’re good together, you know,” he risked observing.
The girls heaved matching sighs. “I know,” they said, almost in unison.
Hermione tilted her head, studying Harry and Draco. “A year ago, I would’ve said you two
were a horrible match as well,” she said. “But you’re good together.”
Harry smiled, but not for long.
“And we’ll look just as good together on the dance floor,” Draco drawled. “May I have this
dance, Harry?” he asked formally.
“No,” Harry answered, shaking his head frantically. “Draco, you know I can’t dance.”
“I’ll lead,” Draco said. “It’ll be easy.”
“How many times do I have to tell everyone that I’m not a bloody girl,” Harry grumbled.
Draco held his hand out. “Trust me,” he said.
“Oh, bloody hell,” Harry muttered. Draco did not know how to play fair. He didn’t know why
he had to dance with Draco to prove that he trusted him, but he found himself taking Draco’s
hand anyway and being led to the dance floor.
“Just a waltz, Harry,” Draco said. “Nothing fancy.”
“Draco,” Harry pleaded. “I really don’t want to do this. I’m going to make us both look
foolish.”
“No, you won’t,” Draco said. “I won’t let you. Now, hand on my shoulder.”
Harry reluctantly complied, sliding his hand onto Draco’s shoulder, his thumb brushing over
the smooth skin at the edge of the collar. Draco’s grip tightened a little on his waist in
response and Harry arched a brow. Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad.
“Why are you insisting we dance?” he asked curiously.
“Because I like dancing,” Draco said. “And because I like holding you in my arms.”
“Bloody manipulative Slytherin,” Harry muttered as they started to move. Draco quirked a
half-smile and didn’t deny the accusation.
Draco knew what to say to melt his resistance and he obviously knew how to dance. Harry
soon discovered that Draco had been right and it was rather easy to simply follow his lead.
They were moving smoothly enough around the dance floor and, as long as Draco didn’t
complicate things, Harry thought he might survive the experience.
“Relax, Harry,” Draco murmured. “You’re still stiff and not enjoying this. Look at me, not
our feet.”
“Oh,” Harry breathed, looking up to stare into Draco’s eyes. “You are enjoying this.”
Draco pulled Harry a little closer. “Yes,” he answered. “I told you, I like holding you.
Touching you. Moving with you.”
If Draco kept talking that way – in that low, seductive tone – Harry was going to allow him to
do whatever the hell he wanted. As they continued to move around the dance floor, Draco
was making all sorts of promises without saying another word.
“May we cut in?” Bill asked.
Harry blinked. He’d been lost in another world with Draco. “Er, I . . .” He was even more
bemused when Fleur led Draco away to dance, leaving Harry with Bill.
“Shall we?” Bill said, holding his arm out.
“Er . . . isn’t this kind of awkward?” Harry asked, moving into position to dance anyway.
“You weren’t awkward dancing with a bloke a minute ago,” Bill pointed out in amusement.
“Unless it’s simply me you’re uncomfortable with.”
“I don’t like dancing at all,” Harry retorted.
“Yet, you appeared to be enjoying yourself,” Bill said. “In fact, you two looked amazing
together. You’ve shocked a lot of people, and there’s probably some that still don’t approve,
but I don’t think anyone here is in doubt that you honestly care about each other.”
“I didn’t realize we were making a spectacle of ourselves,” Harry muttered.
He glanced around, recognizing that a lot of people were watching him dance with the groom
as well. He smiled a little, though, as he caught sight of Draco and Fleur. They were clearly
enjoying themselves.
“You’re as lousy at dancing as I am, aren’t you?” Harry said. Bill and Fleur hadn’t done half
the complicated moves that Draco and Fleur were performing.
Laughing, Bill nodded. “Yes, but Fleur doesn’t seem to mind any more than your boy does,”
he said.
Harry looked up at him. “I’m glad things have worked out for you,” he said, feeling a little
uncomfortable. “Um, I know not everyone has exactly approved, but . . . well, I’m glad you
two are happy.”
“I think you’ve discovered what I have,” Bill said. “That if you love someone, it doesn’t
really matter what anyone else thinks.”
Looking over at Draco and Fleur, Harry had to agree. It wasn’t always going to be easy, but
he didn’t intend to give Draco up for anyone.
“Harry, I know you don’t care for recognition of your achievements, but Fleur and I owe a
great deal to you,” Bill said.
Harry scowled at him and managed to throw them off balance, making them stumble a little.
Bill simply grinned. Harry smiled reluctantly.
“As I was saying,” Bill said, “I know you don’t care for recognition, but I’ve been trying to
come up with something I could do for you.”
“I don’t want anything,” Harry protested.
“I finally decided to give you and your friends a real party,” Bill said, ignoring him.
“Er, a real party?” Harry asked, curious despite himself.
Bill grinned. “Yes, one where there’s no adults and you can get drunk and be stupid,” he said.
“Loud music, alcohol, pranks and games. It’s what teenagers are supposed to do.” He glanced
around the room. “I thought you might appreciate that more than a stuffy old ball.”
Harry couldn’t exactly deny that. He’d enjoyed dancing with Draco, but the ball still wasn’t
his best idea of a good time.
“I’ve arranged it with McGonagall,” Bill said. “The Quidditch pitch is yours for the night.
Whatever you lot want to do. There’s the Wizarding wireless for music. There’s alcohol
stashed in the broom shed. I believe the house-elves have set up tables with whatever snacks
you could possibly want.”
Staring at Bill incredulously, Harry stopped abruptly. Unfortunately, Bill was still moving and
they both went tumbling to the floor. They blinked at each other in astonishment.
“I do hate dancing,” Harry decided.
“And I do think you’ll prefer my offering,” Bill said, starting to laugh.
*****
Chapter Sixty-One
Chapter Notes

Chapter Sixty-One
“Ahhhh, this is more like it,” Ron sighed.
Sprawled on the grass beside him, Harry had to agree. The younger crowd had moved to the
Quidditch pitch, although the majority of them were still dancing. It simply wasn’t waltzes
anymore.
In fact, there wasn’t anything formal about the occasion any longer. Dress robes had been
abandoned in favour of more comfortable clothing. Most of the girls had even abandoned
their shoes, looking relieved to be out of the heels they’d been wearing.
Harry had changed into black jeans and, at Draco’s request, the see-through black shirt he’d
worn at the party on his birthday. Draco had been ordered to go change into jeans as well. He
still hadn’t made an appearance and Harry wondered if he was scheming to find some way
out of the promise he’d made.
Fred and George had got into the stash of alcohol and cheerfully spiked several of the punch
bowls – much to Hermione’s disapproval. But she’d made a deal and promised not to lecture
if they left at least one of the punch bowls alcohol-free. They readily agreed before Fred
asked her to dance. With a resigned glance at Ron, Hermione accepted.
“You don’t mind them dancing?” Harry asked.

Ron shrugged. “No, she doesn’t even really like Fred. She just wants to dance and I’m lousy
at it,” he said, slugging back some of the punch.
“You keep drinking like that and you probably won’t remember that you don’t like dancing,”
Harry said.
“Maybe,” Ron agreed.
Harry glanced at Crabbe and Goyle sitting on the other side of him. “You two don’t like
dancing, either?” he asked.
“Crabbe does,” Goyle said. “No one to dance with, though.”
“You can dance with Hermione,” Ron offered magnanimously, waving his glass of punch in
the direction of the dancers.
Eyeing him suspiciously, Harry wondered if Ron had already been drinking for awhile.
Maybe the twins had managed to spike some of the punch in the Great Hall.
“I don’t want to cause any trouble,” Crabbe said.
Harry and Ron looked at him in disbelief.
“Not tonight, anyway,” Crabbe qualified with a grin.
“You don’t plan on trying to steal my girl, do you?” Ron demanded.
Crabbe grimaced, shaking his head.
“Well, all right, then,” Ron said, relaxing again. “So, dance. Have fun. Party. Stand on your
hands.”
“What?!” Harry exclaimed, laughing. “Why would you want to stand on your hands?”
Ron shrugged. “It sounded good,” he said. “Everything does seem a little upside down today.
If we stood on our heads, maybe everything would look normal again.”
“You know, that’s stupid enough to almost make sense,” Harry said. “Shall we test the
theory?”
Without waiting for an answer, he stood and then popped himself into a hand stand. He held
it for a few seconds before toppling over.
“Doesn’t help,” he announced. “Everyone still appears to have lost their minds and is getting
along.”
“How’d you do that?” Ron demanded. Getting to his feet, he gave it a try. And collapsed to
the ground in a heap.
Harry, Crabbe and Goyle burst out laughing. Ron made another attempt. And failed
spectacularly.
“Show me again,” Ron demanded.
Attempting to curb his laughter, Harry popped into a hand stand and took a few “steps”
before falling.
“What are you doing?” Draco drawled.
Sprawled flat on his back, Harry stared up at him.
“Oh sweet Merlin,” he breathed. Draco was wearing jeans and a tight black t-shirt. No fancy
robes. No expensive trousers and silk shirts. Casual wear that was even sexier for its
simplicity.
“I gather you approve,” Draco said dryly.
Meeting Draco’s eyes, he realized that Draco was unsure and entirely out of his comfort zone.
“Oh, I definitely approve,” Harry said, fingering the denim covering Draco’s legs. He could
quite happily strip Draco out of the jeans, but he didn’t particularly want to waste this, either.
Who knew if he’d ever be able to talk Draco into wearing them again.
“So, uh, you want to join us?” he asked.
Draco gazed down at him sceptically. “Doing what?”
“Er, well, we were just talking,” Harry said.
“It looked to me like you were trying to walk on your hands,” Draco drawled.
Harry felt decidedly like an idiot and didn’t respond. His jaw dropped as he watched Draco
pop his feet into the air and “walk” a few steps before letting his feet fall and standing again.
“I suspect it’s a skill learned by those who are bored, spending too much time alone in their
room,” Draco said dryly. “It tells me that you are bored sitting over here with these three
paragons of scintillating conversation.”
“Hey!” Ron protested, but he didn’t appear to be certain whether he’d been insulted or not.
“I wasn’t bored. I was relaxing,” Harry said pointedly.
“Whatever,” Draco said. “Come on. We’re going to dance.”
“Oh, no,” Harry said. “I’m done with dancing.”
“You’ll enjoy this more,” Draco said, a promise in his voice.
“Draco,” Harry whinged. “Do you enjoy making me look like a fool?”
Ron, Crabbe and Goyle made choking noises, causing Harry to re-think what he’d said.
Draco glared at them, clearly offended.
“I only wanted to dance, you bloody prats,” he snapped before spinning on his heel and
stalking away from them.
“Ah, hell,” Harry muttered, jumping to his feet. “Draco, wait!”
Draco stopped, but he didn’t turn around. Harry stepped in front of him.
“I’m sorry, all right,” he said.
“No, it’s not all right,” Draco said coldly. “You don’t have to be good at everything, Harry.”
Harry flinched. “I thought you knew me better than that,” he said quietly.
Draco simply glared before roughly shoving past him. Harry stood there dumbly, not having
the slightest idea what he’d done to make Draco that angry. He watched as Draco dragged
George into a dance. George sent a curious glance in Harry’s direction but got into dancing
with Draco readily enough.
Were they fighting about dancing? Somehow, Harry didn’t think so, but he had no idea what
they were actually fighting about. Harry’s choice of company, maybe? Inadvertently accusing
Draco of trying to make him look like a fool? Harry’s unwillingness to do what Draco
wanted?
He sighed. So much for no fighting. If he was honest, he felt incredibly hurt that Draco
thought he had to be better than everyone else. He was good at Quidditch. Everything else
was hype of the bloody Chosen One. He’d honestly thought Draco didn’t buy into all of that.
Hell, he knew Draco didn’t.
But he’d obviously fucked up in some way for Draco to be that angry with him. He hated it
when Draco turned cold.
“Hi, Harry,” Cho said, materializing in front of him.
“Hello, Cho,” he said listlessly. “Having fun?”
“I’d be having more fun if you danced with me,” she said.
“No,” he said harshly, causing her to blink at him in astonishment. He ran a hand through his
hair in frustration. “Sorry, but I don’t want to dance.”
She shot him a rather nasty look before flouncing away. Harry sneered at her back. He had no
idea why she’d even bothered. Bloody girls. He’d never understand them. He snorted.
Bloody Malfoys. He’d never understand them, either.
Getting pissed was beginning to sound like a fine idea and he made his way over to the tables
at the side of the pitch. He poured himself a glass of punch but didn’t drink it. He stared at
the red liquid, not sure that getting drunk was actually such a good idea. It would require a
clear head to sort out what he’d done to piss off Draco. Tempted to throw the glass, he instead
set it carefully back on the table.
He wandered back to sit with Ron, Crabbe and Goyle. He snorted with bitter amusement
when he realized that Crabbe had moved on. Dropping down to the grass, he rolled onto his
stomach and pillowed his head on his hands.
“What happened, mate?” Ron asked, sounding surprisingly sympathetic considering that he
still couldn’t stand Draco.
“Dunno,” Harry said dully. “I’m obviously crap at relationships because I thought everything
was fine.”
“Draco’s scared,” Goyle said.
“Of what?!” Ron exclaimed. “Of Harry?”
“Of losing Harry,” Goyle said quietly.
“Well, he’s got a fine way of showing that he wants to keep Harry,” Ron snapped. “Look at
him over there. He’s having a grand time dancing with my brother and doesn’t look to be too
upset he and Harry are fighting.”
Harry refused to look. He’d rather believe Draco was upset. He also appeared to have a fight
brewing in front of him that he felt needed to be monitored closely. Goyle and Ron were now
glaring angrily at each other, tensing for a fight.
“It’s an act,” Goyle sneered. “He’s trying to prove he can fit in with this stupid lot.”
“Stupid,” Ron spluttered. “What gives you the right to call anyone stupid?”
“Look, Weasel, I know more about what’s going on than you do,” Goyle said.
Harry groaned. It was simply going from bad to worse.
“Let’s here it, then,” Ron said challengingly.
“Why should I tell you?” Goyle spat.
“Because I want to know,” Harry interjected quietly. “Do you know what I’ve done wrong?”
Both of them startled at the sound of his voice, as if they’d forgotten he was there. They
exchanged a final sullen glare before visibly making an effort to relax.
“You haven’t done anything wrong,” Goyle admitted with a shrug. “That’s the problem.”
“How could that be a problem?” Ron exclaimed.
“Weasley, shut up,” Goyle said, sounding almost pleasant and all the more dangerous because
of it. “I think Potter wants to hear this, even if you don’t.”
Ron darted a glance at Harry and closed his mouth.
Goyle waited a second before continuing. “Draco’s had to listen to everyone talk about how
perfect you are all day,” he said. “I know he’s been warned at least a few times to stay away
from you.”
“Who’s been warning him away?” Harry demanded, both angry and bewildered. “Everyone
here is our allies.”
“Your allies, not Draco’s,” Goyle said pointedly. “He’s been trying to ignore it, but I think he
finally reached his limit.”
“So, what? Harry proved them right when he refused to dance?” Ron asked.
Goyle shrugged. “I think so,” he said.
Harry buried his face in his arms. He was sick of all the people who wouldn’t stop talking
about all the supposedly great things he’d done. They were turning him into some kind of
God and slowly driving Draco away. First it had been all the Howlers and now this. He
wasn’t remotely perfect and wished people would just shut up. Or at least stay away from his
boyfriend.
“It’s only a matter of time before Draco leaves me, isn’t it?” he muttered.
“Why would he leave you?” Ron demanded. “You’re the bloody Saviour, the one everyone
wants and he’s got you!”
“Because he knows that I’m not a bloody Saviour,” Harry said flatly, propping his chin on his
hands so he could see them. “I’m just Harry Potter with too many problems. I’m not worth
trying to fight the entire bloody Wizarding world.”
Goyle snorted. “You’ve not let any of this go to your head, have you?” he said.
“I’ve got most of the Wizarding world lauding my achievements, telling me how great I am,”
Harry said. “But I don’t find any of this easy. I’m still adjusting to the fact that I’m a
murderer. I’m a parent at seventeen. My . . . adopted family, or whatever you want to call
them . . . I’m still trying to figure out where I fit in with them. My life is a bloody mess.”
“You tell me what I really have to offer Draco,” he said bitterly.
“He loves you,” Goyle said quietly. “He’s working hard to fit in with this crowd. For you.”
“And what is he getting in return?” Harry demanded. “A bunch of threats. A boyfriend who
doesn’t even want to dance with him.” He paused. “Ah, hell. He really is thinking I’m
ashamed of him, isn’t he?”
Ron and Goyle exchanged glances without commenting and Harry buried his face back in his
arms. Sometimes he really did hate his life. He hated being famous. He hated that everyone
tried to decide what was best for him. He hated that he didn’t know how to make it easier for
Draco. He hated the fact that he hated dancing.
“So, what do I do to make things better?” he asked in resignation. “I’m not certain I can make
up for all the people who’ve been warning him away, but I reckon I can try.”
“You’re asking these two for advice?” Draco sneered in disdain.
Harry’s head shot up.
“You were supposed to come after me, you know,” Draco drawled, folding his legs and
sitting down beside Harry.
“Er, was I?” Harry asked. “But I didn’t know what was wrong until Goyle told me. We’re not
actually fighting about dancing, are we?”
Draco shook his head in exasperation. “Harry, you’re hopeless,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” Harry said helplessly. “I didn’t know everyone was treating you like shite. I’m
the bloody Saviour and so no one ever tells me anything. Why didn’t you tell me what was
happening?”
“Tell you what, Harry?” Draco demanded. “That no one can stand the thought of me being
with their perfect hero boy? That my being with you is making you look foolish?”
Harry winced. It was no wonder his thoughtless remark had set Draco off.
“This is the first time we’ve had to truly interact socially with other people,” Draco
continued. “You’ve blindly thought everything was going perfect. That everyone was
accepting me.”
He shook his head again. “I don’t know whether to be insulted or not. Because while you
may be blind to what’s been happening, you’ve still accepted me. You’ve treated me no
different than you usually do.”
“Why would I treat you different?” Harry asked, confused.
Draco stared at him intently for long seconds before shifting his attention to Harry's back. He
traced a finger down Harry's spine and then started tracing a random pattern. Except, Harry
quickly realized it wasn't random. He was certain Draco was following the path of the snake
tattooed on his back.
“I asked you to wear this shirt tonight, but I didn't actually think you would,” Draco said.
“It does rather remind me of being dressed as a girl,” Harry said dryly.
“That's not why I asked you to wear it,” Draco said, although he was smiling faintly at the
memory. “I thought you might be ashamed to reveal your tattoo to everyone.”
“Why would I be ashamed of it?” Harry asked. “Yeah, I reckon some people think I'm weird,
but I like it.” He paused as he realized what Draco was saying. “You were testing me.”
Draco's fingers didn't stop tracing their patterns, but he shifted uncomfortably.
“Have I passed?” Harry asked flatly.
“With flying colours,” Draco admitted quietly. “I probably shouldn’t have done that to you,
but . . .”
“But it’s hard being with me when everyone’s treating you like shite because of it,” Harry
said, sighing.
Draco shrugged half-heartedly in agreement. “I got pissed off at you because I forgot that you
weren't playing the game by everyone else's rules. I forgot that you don't give a bloody damn
about image. I'm just damned tired of being slapped in the face with how unworthy I am
compared to you.”
“I’m not worthy of my reputation, either,” Harry muttered. “And I’ve been slapped in the
face with it more than you have.”
Silence reined for about ten seconds before Draco, Goyle and Ron started laughing.
Harry stared at them, not certain what was so funny.
“That’s one way to put it into perspective,” Draco said, shaking his head.
“You are your own worst enemy now, Harry” Ron said. “Even you can’t live up to your
reputation.”
“I don’t actually want to live up to my reputation,” Harry retorted.
“I’m glad,” Draco murmured.
“Are we all right?” Harry asked hopefully.
Draco nodded, but he was looking irritated. “I shouldn’t have let them get to me,” he said.
“Who was it?” Harry asked.
“No one that matters,” Draco admitted. “To me or you.”
Harry frowned, but he didn’t push the issue. Draco was making an effort to let it go and he
could do the same. He didn’t want to fight any more. He was relieved that the tension had
eased drastically. Draco’s hand was running lightly over his back. Nothing deliberate and
much more relaxing.
It was quiet for a minute before Ron spoke. “How can you two get over a fight so fast?” he
asked. “Hermione can go days, or weeks, before speaking to me again after we fight.”
“Neither of us are girls?” Harry suggested, grinning at Ron’s nonplussed reaction.
“Or because Harry doesn’t play by the same set of rules as everyone else,” Draco drawled.
He paused thoughtfully. “We should write your own Code of Manners.”
Harry tilted his head, directing a sidelong glance up at Draco. “Why?” he asked, drawing out
the word.
“Where’s the matching pair?” Draco asked. “They can help. Granger, too. I bet she has some
bloody parchment and a quill and ink, even at a party. Goyle, go get them,” he ordered.
“Draco!” Harry exclaimed. “Goyle’s not a house-elf and what are you nattering on about?”
He could keep up with Draco’s shifting moods most of the time, but he was lost with the
subject change.
Draco shifted so he could lean down and give Harry a quick kiss before standing. “I’ll be
right back,” he said.
Harry watched him go, trying to figure out what had just happened. With them no longer
fighting, though, he was sidetracked by the view. Weren’t they supposed to be having make-
up sex now? One little, distracted kiss was not particularly satisfying.
“Merlin, Harry, you look like you’re going to devour him at any second,” Ron said, sounding
mildly disgusted.
“Mmmm, good idea,” Harry said, getting to his feet.
He ignored Ron’s spluttering and Goyle’s choked laughter. He had his sights set on Draco,
who did look rather delectable. He intended to do whatever he could to get Draco into
Muggle jeans more often in the future.
He planted himself between Draco and George and stuffed his hands into Draco’s back
pockets, pressing their bodies closely together.
“Sorry, George,” he said over his shoulder. “I don’t know what Draco’s plans were, but I’m
changing them.”
He smirked at Draco. “Unless you have a problem with that,” he said.
“No problem,” Draco drawled, a flare of desire sparking in his eyes.
Just as Harry had ignored Ron and Goyle, he ignored George’s sniggering as he dragged
Draco away. He’d reluctantly relinquished the back pockets in favour of Draco’s hand.
“Harry, do you have a particular destination in mind?” Draco asked curiously.
“I reckon under the Slytherin stands will do,” Harry said. “I doubt anyone will go there, but if
anyone tries to disturb us, I’ll show them some of the nice little hexes your father taught me.”
Draco sniggered. “Not that I mind, but what’s got into you?”
“Hopefully you,” Harry said. “Or the other way around will do as well. I’m not picky. We
just had a fight so we’re supposed to have sex now.”
“Rule number one for Harry’s Code of Manners,” Draco quipped. “Make-up sex required
after a fight.”
“Works for me,” Harry said, slipping into the shadows under the Slytherin stands.
Draco leaned up against one of the beams as Harry took the time to cast a couple of Privacy
wards, namely a Silencing Charm. He tossed his wand onto the ground when he was done
and simply looked at Draco.
“You do like this, don’t you?” Draco said, waving a hand over his clothes.
Swallowing, Harry nodded. He was very attracted to this casual, relaxed Draco, which was
just as appealing – more appealing – as the tight jeans themselves.
He stepped close, sliding his hands up denim-clad thighs. He continued his path up Draco’s
body until his hands were tangling in Draco’s hair and pulling him down for a kiss.
Deepening the kiss immediately, he thrust his tongue into Draco’s mouth as he pressed their
bodies together. He loved kissing Draco and could happily do it all day. The slow glide of
their tongues. Lips moving against each other.
Harry’s lips were slightly chapped, but even after an entire afternoon of flying, Draco’s lips
were soft. And oh so pliant. He allowed Harry to dominate the kiss. Sometimes Draco
preferred to be in charge, but apparently this wasn’t one of those times.
Harry wasn’t certain whether Draco was needing reassurance of some kind or if he was just
in the mood for Harry to take charge. Either way, Harry was happy to comply. He loved
pleasing Draco.
They continued to kiss, but Harry’s attention was divided. He twisted silky strands of hair
around his fingers, tugging lightly, eliciting a low moan. He was only just starting to realize
that Draco liked Harry playing with his hair as much as Harry liked Draco doing it to him. It
was sensual and somehow intimate. Draco would never allow it with anyone else.
Considering how much importance Draco placed on appearance, he never complained when
Harry messed up his hair. He would calmly smooth it out afterwards, never saying a word.
They still had so much to learn about each other and Harry was looking forward to every
experience. He transferred his attention to Draco’s neck, already knowing the most sensitive
spot that would have Draco demanding more.
He wasn’t disappointed.
“Harry,” Draco moaned, one hand at the back of Harry’s head, lightly holding him in place.
“Mine,” Harry murmured before sucking harder at the tender skin of Draco’s throat. He’d
leave his mark on Draco and everyone who didn’t like it could fuck off.
Draco reflexively tightened his grip on Harry’s head. “Possessive little bugger, aren’t you,”
he said.
Harry lapped gently at the reddened skin before pulling back to admire his handiwork.
“You like me being possessive,” he said, only realizing as he said the words just how true
they were. Especially right now, with so many people against their relationship, Draco
needed to know he was Harry’s. He went back to kissing Draco hungrily, leaving him with no
doubts that Harry wanted him.
He slid his hands down to Draco’s back pockets and Draco canted his hips forward, away
from the beam, to allow it. The movement ground their clothed erections together with
greater friction.
“Fuck,” Harry hissed, tearing his mouth away from Draco’s.
Jeans were all well and good, but now they were uncomfortably tight and he wanted the
damned things off. Giving Draco’s arse a final squeeze, he abandoned the back pockets he’d
discovered a fondness for in favour of undoing the fastenings in front. Draco was already
making quick work of releasing Harry’s cock from its confinement.
Harry groaned as Draco’s fingers wrapped around him. He was even more satisfied when he
pulled a matching groan from Draco moments later.
“You plan on fucking me?” Draco asked, pumping Harry’s cock slowly.
“Not if you keep doing that,” Harry retorted.
Draco smirked and let go.
Harry’s eyes narrowed, watching Draco closely as he flicked his thumb over the head of
Draco’s cock and lightly squeezed the shaft. Lashes fluttered over the grey eyes before
closing. He wasn’t certain why, but Draco appeared to be in an even more heightened state of
arousal than he was. He loved seeing Draco like this.
“Does it turn you on to do this in Slytherin territory?” he asked curiously.
A low moan was his only answer.
“It does, doesn’t it,” he said, wanting to find out more about this little discovery. “You like
the idea of shagging here. I bet you’ve had loads of fantasies about it. Have you sat in the
stands and imagined what it would be like to sneak away during a match and have someone
suck you off?”
Draco’s cock jumped in Harry’s hand and his eyes popped open. Harry deliberately licked his
lips and watched Draco’s eyes track the movement.
“So that’s what you want,” he murmured. “You want me to suck you off, Draco?”
“Please,” Draco moaned.
Surprised to hear Draco begging, but more than willing to give him what he wanted, Harry
dropped to his knees. Draco roughly shoved jeans and underwear off his hips and down his
thighs, leaving himself fully exposed before grabbing the beam behind him.
“Sweet fucking hell,” Harry breathed. He’d not expected this reaction from Draco. It was
incredibly sexy, illicit and thrilling.
“Please, Harry,” Draco begged shamelessly.
Harry had no intention of denying him. Gripping the base of Draco’s cock, he flicked his
tongue over the head, tasting the salty pre-come. He looked up at Draco through his lashes,
wanting to see his reaction. Draco’s face was twisted in pleasure, watching Harry with half-
lidded eyes. Draco begged with his eyes just as well as he did with his mouth.
Deciding he couldn’t tease, not this time, Harry took Draco’s cock into his mouth and sucked
greedily, loving the taste, the feel and the weight of it on his tongue.
His eyes still on Draco, he winced a little as Draco’s head flew back and slammed into the
beam. But Draco didn’t appear to care, his hips thrusting forward in an appeal for more.
Harry did his best to give it to him, tightening his lips and making creative use of his tongue.
He couldn’t take Draco all the way into his mouth like Draco could to him, but he used his
hand to make up the difference.
His other hand weighed Draco’s balls in his palm. Popping his mouth off Draco’s cock, he
sucked them into his mouth, rolling them gently with his tongue.
“Oh, fuck,” Draco groaned. “Sooo good. Don’t stop.”
Harry didn’t stop. He went back to sucking Draco’s cock, but not before he’d coated two of
his fingers with saliva.
“Yes, please,” Draco hissed, attempting to spread his legs for easier access. A difficult task,
considering he was still almost fully dressed and his legs were trapped by his jeans.
Looking up, Harry realized Draco was again watching him. Probing gently at Draco’s hole,
he pushed a finger inside. Draco bit at his lip, hard, and Harry knew he was close. He pressed
his tongue along the sensitive vein on the underside of Draco’s cock as he sucked hard and
pushed his finger deeper into Draco’s arse.
Draco’s eyes squeezed shut as a loud groan fell from his lips and his come filled Harry’s
mouth. Even as he swallowed, Harry transferred a hand to his own cock. Watching Draco, he
stroked himself.
Draco’s eyes opened, meeting his. “You going to come for me, Harry?” he drawled
breathlessly. Harry didn’t need anything more than that before he was coming.
Still shuddering with the surprising force of his release, Harry fell backwards, sprawling onto
his back. He gazed up at Draco speculatively as his breathing evened out. Draco was a wreck.
Although, he appeared to be a very satisfied wreck.
“I think I want to hear more about your fantasies,” Harry said. “Sex under the Slytherin
stands is fairly tame, but I’m betting you’ve got some wild fantasies you’ve been saving up
for the last couple of years.”
Draco managed to push himself away from the beam and began cleaning up and putting his
clothing back to rights.
“You won’t think this is tame when we’re doing this during an actual match,” he drawled.
Harry arched a brow. “When?”
“Wouldn’t want your life to become boring,” Draco said, directing a smirk down at him.
“You going to get up or stay there?”
Grumbling about being forced to move, Harry rolled to his feet and put himself back together
again. He snatched up his wand and stuffed it into his back pocket before they slipped out of
their hideaway.
Someone had created a magical bonfire in the middle of the pitch in their absence. Music was
still blaring, but most everyone was sprawled around the bonfire in the growing darkness.
They moved to join the others and Draco snagged a bottle of Firewhiskey from under one of
the tables as they passed.
“Planning on getting drunk?” Harry asked.
“Why not?” Draco said. “The plan was to be irresponsible tonight and what better way is
there to do that?”
Harry eyed the bottle warily. “I remember the last time I got drunk,” he said.
“So do I,” Draco drawled. “We had brilliant sex. I’m still looking forward to being fucked
later.”
Laughing, Harry nudged him. “You know I’m too short to fuck you against the wall, even if
we had a wall handy,” he said.
“We’ll make do,” Draco said. “Probably wouldn’t work anyway if we’re both drunk.”
“Thought about this much, have you?” Harry asked.
“Is there something I’m supposed to be thinking of besides sex?” Draco asked, arching a
brow.
Harry smiled, taking Draco’s hand in his own. “No,” he said. “Nothing at all.”
“You two look satisfied,” Blaise said dryly as they approached and dropped down beside him
and Ginny.
“Quite,” Draco said, cracking open the Firewhiskey and taking a drink straight from the
bottle. How he managed to keep a straight face, Harry had no idea. When Draco passed the
bottle to him, he definitely was not able to keep from grimacing at the burn.
“Where’s the matching pair?” Draco asked, looking around at the small groups settled about
the fire.
Ginny shook her head. “I think the matching pair are off with Angelina and Alicia
somewhere,” she said.
“With girls?” Draco said in disgust. “I’m so disappointed in them.” He pointedly ignored the
eye rolling from Blaise and Ginny, taking another swig of Firewhiskey. “I was sure they’d be
able to assist, but Granger will have to do.”
Sniggering, Harry stretched out on the grass with his head in Draco’s lap. He was startled
when Draco suddenly shouted.
“Granger!”
“What do you want, Malfoy?” Ron shouted, sounding extremely disgruntled.
“I need parchment and ink,” Draco called.
“What makes you think Hermione’s got some?” Ron demanded.
Laughter sprouted from all the groups. A blushing Hermione appeared in Harry’s line of sight
a few seconds later.
“Why do you have your bag, Hermione?” Ron whinged. “It’s a party.”
“It’s come in handy, hasn’t it?” Hermione said, sitting down by Harry’s legs. “Hi, Harry.”
He smiled at her, nudging her with his knee.
“No, it hasn’t,” Ron protested, falling beside her. “It’s only Malfoy who wants it.”
“But why does he want it?” Ginny asked.
They all turned to Draco curiously. “I need to write a Code of Manners for Harry,” he said, as
if it made perfect sense.
“You’re still on about that?” Harry asked.
“Of course,” Draco drawled. “A brilliant blow job does not obliterate brilliant plans.”
Harry threw his arm over his face, deciding it would be wiser to keep his mouth shut. Over
the sound of the sniggering, Hermione dared to ask what Draco meant by a Code of Manners.
“Harry follows his own set of rules,” Draco said. “I think it’s about time he had them written
down.”
Ron snorted loudly. “What’s the point?” he asked. “Harry’s number one rule is to ignore the
rules.”
Harry moved his arm behind his head, propping himself up and grinning at Ron. Even
Hermione was laughing.
“Who knew Weasley could be funny?” Blaise asked, sniggering.
“He has his moments,” Ginny said, sending her brother a cheeky grin. She followed Harry’s
lead and stretched out with her head in Blaise’s lap, making herself comfortable.
Draco swigged some of the Firewhiskey. “I’m afraid once again Weasley does have a point,”
he said. “Make-up sex required after a fight will have to be rule number two.”
Harry wasn’t certain whether Ron’s incredulous expression was in regards to the reference to
sex or to Draco saying he was right, but it was hilarious either way.
He waved to Crabbe and Goyle as they joined the group.
“Rule number three,” Draco said. “Collect strays.”
“And do what with them?” Ron demanded.
“What you do with all strays, of course,” Hermione managed to say with a straight face.
“Find homes for them.”
“Oh,” Ron said, leaving Harry, Ginny and Blaise in hysterics. Crabbe and Goyle were
confused as to what everyone was talking about and Draco and Hermione were taking a
studious approach to the matter. In fact, Hermione was producing parchment, ink, and quill to
record the rules.
“You’re actually going to write these down?” Harry asked.
“Of course,” Draco drawled. “You may not pay it any heed, but the rest of us need the Potter
Code of Manners so we can keep up with you. We sometimes forget the rules.”
“Would’ve been handy at the beginning of the summer,” Ron muttered.
“Exactly,” Draco said. “But still useful. Just because he’s killed off the Dark Lord, it doesn’t
mean he’s not going to find trouble.”
“And that’s rule number four,” Hermione said. “Go looking for trouble in the most unlikely
of places.”
“But I don’t look for it!” Harry exclaimed. “This summer, Draco just showed up at the
Dursleys. I didn’t tell him to go there!”
“Are you saying Draco’s name is trouble?” Blaise asked innocently.
“It’s his middle name,” Harry answered mock-seriously.

“Well, that would explain why you like him,” Ron said, generating another round of laughter.
“Thanks, Harry,” Draco drawled sardonically.
“You’re welcome,” Harry said, smirking up at him. “You know I love you.”
“Yes, you’re very convincing,” Draco said dryly, but his fingers found their way to Harry’s
hair, sifting through the thick locks.
“In the Malfoy Code of Manners, apparently you should never insult your allies,” Blaise said.
“The Potter Code of Manners? Insult everyone equally.”
“He learned that from Severus,” Draco said.
“It’s the only way to survive in our house,” Harry protested.
“Beside the point,” Draco said dismissively.
“Oh, I know one,” Hermione said. “If something is impossible, find a way to make it
possible.”
“That should be in the top ten,” Draco agreed. “Another one for the top ten. If you don’t like
what people are saying, ignore them.”
“These aren’t manners,” Harry thought to point out.
“It’s the code you live by, so it’s close enough,” Draco said. “Now, shush and let us work.”
Snagging the bottle of Firewhiskey from Draco, he took a drink, deciding that maybe he
wasn’t drunk enough for this discussion. Feeling extremely content, he simply laid back and
listened as his friends continued to entertain themselves by generating, in his opinion, an
arbitrary list of rules.
Others gradually joined their group. Neville and Luna, Dean and Seamus, Daphne along with
Lavender and the Patil twins. They were at the centre of a large gathering of people by the
time the first fireworks exploded in the air.
Hermione quickly doused the magical bonfire and the torches providing light around the
pitch.
“Guess we know what the matching pair are doing now,” Draco quipped.
Harry wasn’t entirely sure where they were at, but the twins were certainly at work. The rest
of the people at the celebration were gathered on the lawn in front of the castle and the twins
were presumably somewhere between there and the Quidditch pitch as they set off their
Wildfire Whiz-Bangs. Although, Harry didn’t recognize many of the fireworks, so he
assumed most of them were new creations.
They were truly spectacular displays. Huge explosions of light, sound and colour. Pinwheels
spinning through the air. Rockets of light shooting far up into the sky before exploding.
Kaleidoscopes, a riot of colour in a compact circle that would suddenly expand before
contracting into a new pattern, over and over again.
“It’s brilliant,” Harry breathed in wonder.
“They’ve outdone themselves,” Ron agreed.
There were fireworks that took on definition and shape, reminding Harry of neon signs in the
Muggle world. Griffins, dragons, snakes. Hilarity ensued as large canaries and pink squirrels
made an appearance.
The laughter died down as everyone’s attention was caught when the fireworks started
spelling out words. At first, they were serious, generating ooooh’s and awww’s from the girls,
probably because they were accompanied by sparkly flowers.
FREEDOM. CELEBRATION. LIFE, LOVE & LAUGHTER.
Harry stared with growing horror as the messages changed.
HARRY POTTER
KILLED THE DARK LORD, MADE HIM PAY
NOW WE THANK HIM FOR SAVING THE DAY
HE LISTENS TO THE TRIBUTES IN DISMAY
“I DIDN’T DO IT ALONE” HE SAID TODAY
WHAT HE WANTS TO ADD IS “GO AWAY”
HE HAS A FONDNESS FOR THE COLOUR GREY
AND HAS BEEN KNOW TO TAKE IN A STRAY
HIS HAIR IS OFTEN IN DISARRAY
BUT WE ALL LOVE HIM ANYWAY
AT THIS TIME WE’D LIKE TO CONVEY
HE’S EARNED SOME TIME TO PLAY
A bright shower of fireworks punctuated the horrendous poem. Immediately following that:
HARRY LOVES DRACO
In bright red letters, complete with sparkly hearts.
Adding insult to injury, Harry was dislodged from Draco’s lap as Draco doubled up with
laughter. With everyone’s laughter echoing all around him, he rolled to his stomach and
buried his face in his arms. It would be a long, long time before he’d be able to live this
down.
He spent at least a couple of minutes contemplating various ideas for revenge on the twins
before anyone acknowledged him.
“Harry? Are you all right?” Hermione asked.
She giggled as Harry lifted his head to glare at her, but she made a huge effort to school her
features. Not succeeding, she wordlessly held out a bottle of Firewhiskey to him.
He groaned. If Hermione was offering him alcohol, it really was as bad as he thought and it
hadn’t been some horrible nightmare.
“This is worse than the bloody toad Valentine,” he muttered, sitting up and snagging the
bottle from her. He instantly regretted his words as that poem was recited for him. Ginny
started it but others joined in and, by the end, everyone was able to recite the last line.
His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,

His hair is as dark as a blackboard.
I wish he was mine, he's really divine,
The hero who conquered the Dark Lord.
Harry swigged from the bottle as everyone broke out into fresh hysterics. “I hate all of you,”
he announced, receiving wide grins and more laughter in response.
“But you love me,” Draco said, tears of laughter rolling down his cheeks. “It says so right up
there,” he added, pointing.
Harry turned to look. Sure enough, the words were still sparkling brightly in the dark sky. He
focused on Draco, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.
“You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?” he asked.
“No, but I think it’s hilarious,” Draco said, smirking.
“You would,” Harry said dryly, shaking his head in resignation. “You’ve always enjoyed
humiliating me.”
Draco took the bottle from him, drank, then set it aside. He pushed Harry back before
straddling his hips and practically lying on top of him, resting some of his weight on his
elbows. He kissed Harry languidly for a minute before pulling back.
“You want to know something?” he asked.
“What?” Harry asked warily.
“I could live without the colour red and all the bloody hearts, but I think it’s rather brilliant
that it’s announced to everyone that you love me,” he said. “I happen to love you as well, so
it works out nicely.”
“Draco, are you pissed?” Harry asked.
“No, of course not,” Draco said indignantly. He paused, his brow furrowing in thought.
“Slightly pissed, maybe,” he conceded.
Harry smiled, extremely amused. Draco had to be drunk since he was admitting that he
actually liked the ridiculously sweet announcement in the sky. It gave Harry some
ammunition for the times Draco would be sure to bring up the bloody idiotic poem.
“So, what are we doing, mates?”
Narrowing his eyes, Harry looked up to see Fred and George. “We’re playing hide ‘n seek,”
he said. “No matter where you hide, I will find you when you least expect it.”
They grinned down at him, clearly not concerned.
“Did you enjoy the show?” Fred asked innocently.
Draco rolled to Harry’s side, smirking at them rather gleefully. “I don’t think Harry
appreciated it, but I did,” he said.
“I thought most of it was rather brilliant,” Harry admitted. “There were just a couple I didn’t
appreciate for some reason,” he added dryly.
“Had to be done,” George said, unrepentant. “And that last one? It’s a great way to advertise
our new line of fireworks.”
“Loads of people are looking for spectacular ways to show their loved ones they care,” Fred
added. “Think of all the people looking for a special way to propose.”
Harry rolled his eyes, realizing that he probably should’ve expected them to do something as
they’d gone easy on the pranks the entire day. And it certainly wasn’t the first time they’d
taken advantage of opportunities to advertise their products.
Everyone congratulated the twins on their fireworks display and gradually the conversation
turned to other topics. Harry was simply relieved when conversation finally turned away
from him as the main topic. He didn’t give a bloody damn that he was the guest of honour for
the occasion.
It was a party and that’s what they did. They spent several more hours on the pitch, until the
wee hours of the morning. Music and laughter. Friends and fun. The day had had its rough
moments, but it was a day Harry would remember for the rest of his life.
*****
Chapter Sixty-Two
Chapter Notes

Beta: An extra special thank you to Bookgirl who has been with me on this fic since
September. And to Gestaltrose and Lucie who have also provided invaluable support and
suggestions over the last few months. Thank you, ladies, for everything!
Chapter Sixty-Two
“Victoria!” Harry exclaimed in exasperation.
She ignored him, happily splashing more water.
Harry sat back on his heels in resignation. At least he’d managed to get her clean. He’d even
got her hair washed. He looked down at himself. He might not be clean, but he was certainly
wet enough.
“You look like you were in the tub with her,” Draco drawled.
Glancing over his shoulder, he sneered at Draco, who was casually leaning against the
doorframe.
“You knew this would happen,” he retorted. “You’re the one who bought her the new –,” he
waved his hand expansively over the tub, “– whatever this bloody thing is that sprays water
everywhere.”
“It’s called a whale,” Draco supplied helpfully.

“I know it’s a whale,” Harry said, wishing Draco was close enough so he could smack him.
“But I have a hard time calling this thing a toy. Toys aren’t this real. They don’t spray water
at random moments because they’re coming to the surface to breathe!”
“It is not my fault that you are poorly educated in the matter of magical toys,” Draco said.
“Victoria, I think your daddy should come over here so we can educate him in the matter of
whales,” Harry said conversationally.
“Fis!” Victoria said proudly, lifting the toy out of the water, just in time for it to spray more
water over Harry. Harry spluttered. Victoria giggled. Draco doubled over with laughter from
the safety of the doorway.
“All right, you’re done,” Harry declared. “With both the fish and the bath.”
He got Victoria out of the tub and wrapped her in a fluffy towel before plopping her into
Draco’s arms. “You can get her dressed. I quit.”
He could hear Draco’s sniggers all the way up the stairs. Drying off and changing into
pyjama pants, he headed back downstairs to the nursery where it was his turn to lean against
the doorframe. Draco was rocking Victoria as he read to her. She was almost asleep and it
wasn’t long before Draco was laying her in her cot.
“She went to sleep extra fast tonight,” Harry observed.
Draco shrugged. “She had a busy day,” he said, tucking her in. “I think she had a nice
birthday, though, even if it was a day early.”
Harry snorted softly. “She’s certainly got enough new toys and clothes to last her for the next
year,” he said.
“And it appears she likes her new bath toys,” Draco said innocently.
“You will teach me the charm to turn the bloody thing off,” Harry retorted. “I’m certain you
know it.”
“Maybe,” Draco said, smirking. It was a direct admission as far as Harry was concerned, but
he was sidetracked by a different thought.
“Do you think she’ll have trouble adjusting to being at Hogwarts?” he asked, looking at her
sleeping peacefully. “This is our last night here, after all.”
“I think she’ll be fine,” Draco said. “She adjusted well enough from your relatives’ house to
here, didn’t she?”
Harry blinked, trying to remember. It felt like an entire lifetime had passed since then and
he’d been so busy that it was all rather a blur now.
“She’ll be fine, Harry,” Draco reassured when he didn’t say anything. “We’re going to be the
ones having trouble adjusting,” he added ruefully.
Sighing, Harry could only agree.
“No depressing thoughts,” Draco ordered. “I can hear them forming in your head.”
“You can hear them?” Harry questioned, arching a brow.
“Yes, I can,” Draco declared haughtily. “I’m also becoming quite proficient at recognizing
your ‘depressing thoughts forming’ expression.”
Harry shook his head in exasperation, but he was actually pleased that Draco knew him that
well. Depressing thoughts formed quite frequently in his head recently and he wasn’t sure
where he’d be without Draco. Draco wouldn’t allow him to be depressed for long.
“Come on,” Draco said, taking his hand and squeezing lightly in reassurance. “Let’s go see
what the others are doing.”
“Why are you already in pyjamas?” Remus asked Harry curiously as they entered the
drawing room. “Or do I dare ask?” he said warily as Harry scowled and Draco started
laughing again.
“I had to change and, since I’ll be going to bed soon, it made sense to put on pyjamas,” Harry
said.
“What a fine Slytherin he’s turning out to be,” Lucius drawled in amusement. “Did you
notice that he answered the question, and yet, conveniently sidestepped the reason he had to
change in the first place?”
Rolling his eyes, Harry flopped onto the couch and propped his feet up on the coffee table.
Draco sat beside him and explained the fiasco with the whale.
“I am pleased she’s enjoying her gifts,” Narcissa said.
“We’ll have to make sure the whale gets packed,” Draco drawled, earning himself a smack on
the thigh from Harry.
“Are all of you packed?” Severus asked, a warning in his voice suggesting that it was in their
best interests to answer yes.
Crabbe and Goyle nodded. Blaise wasn’t there, as he’d gone home for the few days before
term started to spend some time with his mother. Harry didn’t particularly want to answer.
Draco glanced at him knowingly before answering Severus. “Yes, we’re both packed,” he
said. “There’s just a few things that I can’t pack until morning.”
Harry looked at him in surprise. “I’m packed?”
“Yes, you are,” Draco said. “While you were busy fighting the whale, I finished getting
everything into our trunks.”
“Oh. Thank you,” Harry said. “I hate packing.”

“I’ve noticed,” Draco said dryly.
“We’ll take your things to Hogwarts in the morning,” Narcissa said. “I know you wish to take
the train for your last year, but there’s no sense in your luggage making the trip as well.”
“We’ve got too many trunks to take on the train anyway,” Draco said.
“We do?” Harry asked.
“We’ve got clothes in one, books and school supplies in another, and a third trunk for
everything else,” Draco said. “Your pet supplies alone will take up half the space in that one.”
“They can’t take up that much space,” Harry protested.
“I can’t actually pack them until in the morning, but Fawkes’ perch, even shrunk, takes up
room,” Draco said. “So does the snake tank. We’re not carrying the bloody thing, so we’re
just going to have to wear the snakes tomorrow. Supplies for their tank plus the birds’ treats
are already packed, though.”
“Good thing you’ve got all this organized,” Harry said, his face twisting.
Draco snorted. “I know,” he said. “If it was left up to you, we’d never make it to the station in
time.”
“I am pleased you’ve decided to take the train,” Remus said. “It’s somehow such an integral
part of going to Hogwarts.”
“It wouldn’t feel right to simply Apparate or Floo there,” Harry admitted. “Besides, Draco
should be on the train anyway since he’s Head Boy.”
“I wonder how many of the first years I can terrify this year,” Draco mused.
Harry rolled his eyes. “You’ll be terrifying more than just the first years, simply by being on
the train,” he said. “Now, if you had Victoria with you, then you might be less frightening.”
“Good thing she won’t be with us then, isn’t it,” Draco drawled, smirking.
Laughing, Harry looked over at Crabbe and Goyle. “I don’t want to see you two helping him
terrorize everyone,” he said, shaking a finger at them.
“We’ll be busy guarding you,” Crabbe said with a grin.
Harry threw his hands up in the air in resignation, but he was smiling as he enjoyed the sound
of the laughter in the room.
“I find myself relieved that Victoria will not be with you tomorrow,” Narcissa said, shaking
her head.
“Yeah, me, too,” Harry admitted. “I doubt we’d be allowed to take her on the train anyway,
but we have no idea what to expect and I don’t want her in the middle of it.”
“She’ll be much safer with me at Hogwarts,” Narcissa agreed. “Winky has already prepared
her nursery and she’ll be comfortable. It will be enough excitement for her to attend the
welcoming feast with you tomorrow night.”
“She’ll be with me?” Harry asked, glancing at Draco. “At the Gryffindor table?”
“Yes,” Draco said with a grimace. “Not that I’m fond of her sitting there, but I don’t know
that it’ll be safe for her at the Slytherin table.”
“It’s going to be odd having us split up all over the Great Hall,” Harry said.
Draco shrugged, not looking happy about it, either.
“Things will settle into new routines soon enough and it’ll get easier,” Remus said
reassuringly.
Discussion turned to the upcoming year, but Harry found himself thinking about the past
week. It had been wonderful, overall. He smiled a little as he thought about Draco’s promise
of sex, Quidditch and sleep. That had been fulfilled. The sleep part had become a bit of an
issue as Draco had forced a discussion with Severus which led to a meeting with Madam
Pomfrey.
His sleep patterns, and his nightmares, were now being carefully monitored before they could
become a bigger issue. Severus had not been amused when Madam Pomfrey put him on the
same monitoring status. She’d been smart, though, and bypassed the two of them, giving her
orders to Draco and Remus. The two had assured her that if there were any problems, they
would be certain to inform her immediately.
They hadn’t played as much Quidditch during the latter half of the week, with everyone
spending more time with their families before school started. Harry and Draco were bringing
their family with them, so it wasn’t as much of a concern, but Harry enjoyed the long hours
simply playing with Victoria or talking with the others.
Mostly, he’d enjoyed his time with Draco. The sex had been brilliant, and they certainly
made plenty of time for that activity, but they’d also spent hours and hours just talking. About
everything. With the exception of the Horcruxes, there were no taboo subjects. Although
some topics were still difficult for them to talk about, they didn’t avoid them altogether.
Harry was more confident in his relationship and he was certain that Draco was as well. The
upcoming year would not be easy, but they were both more prepared to face it.
Draco put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer. “All right?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah, I am,” Harry said, realizing that he meant it.
*****
“Happy birthday, Victoria!”
“Blow out the candle,” Harry encouraged.

He’d been working with her, and she’d had practice at her party the day before. She filled her
cheeks full of air and puffed a small breath in the general direction of the candle. Harry
wasn’t sure who did it, but someone cast a spell to extinguish the flame for her. He clapped
along with her, though, as she delighted in her success.
Narcissa served Victoria a slice of the pink birthday cake before serving the others. It felt odd
to be eating cake right after breakfast, but it worked.
“Didn’t this child have her party yesterday?” Severus muttered.
“Today is her actual birthday, Severus,” Narcissa said mildly. “As you very well know. We
are only having a bit of cake and Draco has one gift for her. Then we can finish preparing to
leave for Hogwarts.”
Harry looked at Draco in surprise. This was news to him. He caught the scowling expression
on Severus’ face. He clearly knew about it, whatever it was.
“Didn’t we give her all her presents yesterday?” Harry asked.
“Most of them,” Draco said. “But she has to receive something on her actual birthday as
well.”
“What is it?” Harry asked curiously.
“You’ll see,” Draco said, refusing to say anymore, a smirk tugging at his lips.
Recognizing that Draco wasn’t going to budge, Harry dutifully ate his cake, enjoying it as
much as Victoria was enjoying hers, but he got his into his mouth. She was an absolute mess,
with pink icing everywhere.
Draco disappeared upstairs while Harry cleaned her up with some judicious usage of charms.
They didn’t have time to give her a bath now. She was sitting on his lap, happily playing a
clapping game when Draco returned.
Harry stared at him. Blinked. Stared some more, until Draco started laughing at his reaction.
“You’re petting a kitten?” Harry asked in disbelief.
“Yes, and you didn’t think I even knew what one was,” Draco drawled.
Harry darted a glance at Crabbe and Goyle, remembering the conversation about puppies and
kittens. Looking back at Draco, he still felt it was more shocking to see Draco petting a kitten
than it had been to learn he’d been kicking puppies.
Draco brought the kitten over and crouched down in front of him and Victoria. She was
squealing excitedly, and Harry automatically reminded her to be gentle as Draco set the kitten
in her lap. In Harry’s lap.
He stared down at the white pile of fluff that had bright green eyes and a pink nose.
“This is her birthday present?” he asked.
Draco nodded, smiling at Victoria. “She likes it,” he said.
“Of course she does,” Harry said. “It’s a cute, adorable, fluffy little animal. But the last I
checked, you didn’t like cute, adorable, fluffy little animals.”
“True,” Draco agreed. “But you do, so you can help her take care of it.”
“Draco!” Harry exclaimed. “What if I don’t want to take care of a cat?”
“You don’t have to,” Draco said casually. “I can always take it back.”
Harry didn’t like his tone of voice. “Take it back where?” he asked suspiciously.
“Oh, the matching pair found her wandering in Knockturn Alley a couple weeks ago,” Draco
said dismissively. “Probably ran away from someone intending to use her for potions
ingredients.”
“You’re not serious?!” Harry exclaimed, horrified.
Draco gazed at him steadily. Harry looked down at the pile of fluff. He wasn’t entirely certain
Draco wasn’t making up some story, but the results were the same whether he was lying or
telling the truth. They now had a cat.
“Are you telling me that my friends are picking up strays for me now?” he asked in
resignation.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Draco drawled, amused. “But I admit that I’m not as upset about this
one as you might think. I’m still not fond of Victoria playing with a poisonous snake.”
“Victoria will still play with Lissa,” Harry warned. “They’re practically best friends.”
“I know,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. “But she can play with a fluffy kitten even when
you’re not around.”
Harry was willing to concede that point. He smiled, watching Victoria. The kitten seemed
content to simply lie there being petted. Victoria was only a year old, but she was already
pretty good around animals. Certainly much better than her father. Although, Draco deserved
credit for encouraging her fondness of creatures.
“So, Victoria,” Harry said, getting her attention. “What are we going to name your kitten?”
“Just what we need,” Severus said snidely. “A blasted cat.”
“Blas!” Victoria squealed.
Harry stared at Victoria for a moment then glanced at Severus before exchanging glances
with Draco. They burst out laughing.
“I think you’ve got your answer,” Remus said, chuckling at Severus’ surprised expression.
Narcissa was amused as well, but she gave the boys a warning. “I think this is your sign that
it is time to start watching your language, boys,” she said.
They nodded in acknowledgement, but they were still sniggering.
“So, Severus and Victoria have decided on what exactly?” Harry asked. “Blast?”
“Blas!” Victoria exclaimed.
“It would appear so,” Draco drawled.
“I think it sounds close enough to bath,” Harry said. “And that’s why she picked up on it.”
“Ba?” Victoria asked, looking up at him hopefully with wide grey eyes.
Draco started laughing all over again.
“No, you’re not getting a bath right now,” Harry told Victoria ruefully.
“It does remind me that I’ve got a whale to go pack, though,” Draco said, smirking at Harry
as he stood.
“You boys need to hurry and finish any packing,” Lucius said. “There is not much time left
before we leave.”
“And you’re not coming back here if you forget something,” Severus warned.
“Aside from the whale, everything is packed except for Harry’s magical menagerie,” Draco
said.
Harry glanced down at the kitten. “She’s not magical, is she?” he asked.
“I don’t think so,” Draco said. “But she’s still a part of your pet collection.”
“She’s Victoria’s birthday present,” Harry protested. “I had nothing to do with her.”
“You can argue about it later,” Narcissa said, plucking Victoria from Harry’s arms. “I will see
to this one. You two see to all the animals and finish getting ready to go.”
Harry cuddled the kitten to his chest, petting her soft fur and listening to the rumble of her
purring. “What do I do with this?” he asked.
He looked up to see Draco gazing at him knowingly with a smile playing at his lips. “I knew
you’d like her as much as Victoria does,” he said.
Harry thought about denying it, but decided it would be a waste of time. “What do I do with
her?” he asked again.
“There’s a basket for her upstairs,” Draco said. “She’s going on the train with us, as Mum
refuses to deal with any of the pets and Winky will be too busy to deal with a new kitten on
top of everything else. You need to send Fawkes on to Hogwarts so I can get his perch. I
don’t know that Hedwig will fly there. She usually goes on the train with you, doesn’t she?”
“Yeah, but I reckon she can fly if she wants to,” Harry said. He glanced down at the kitten
with a grimace. “I’m not sure how she’s going to take to Blast.”
“I’ve introduced them, but she turned her beak up at me,” Draco admitted.
“Cats, snakes and birds,” Harry said. “Aren’t they all natural enemies?”
“Even enemies can learn to get along,” Draco said. He bent over and gave Harry a kiss.
“Some can learn to do more than tolerate each other.”
*****
“Harry!” Draco shouted.
“I’m coming!” Harry shouted back, bounding down the stairs. He dropped into the front
hallway in the middle of the group waiting for him.
“I just had to send Hedwig off,” he said.
“I thought you did that twenty minutes ago,” Draco said.
Harry shrugged, not particularly willing to admit that he’d been talking with Hedwig for
almost that entire twenty minutes. He wasn’t certain he’d been completely forgiven yet, but
she was happier with him than she had been. She’d still elected to fly to Hogwarts, though,
rather than travel with him on the train. He didn’t blame her.
Draco was gazing at him knowingly as he held his arm out, allowing two of the snakes to
transfer to Harry. They’d already talked about it earlier and Lissa and Gryff had been waiting
for him. They happily slithered up the sleeves of his robes and wrapped themselves around
his upper arms. Salz and Rave were staying with Draco.
“At least you’ve got your robes on,” Draco said.
Looking down at himself, Harry felt funny to be back in school robes at home. They
wouldn’t have their trunks with them, though, and had to put them on before they left. Draco
looked proud to be wearing his, but that probably had more to do with the gleaming Head
Boy badge pinned to them than anything else.
“Isn’t it going to look rather odd with us walking around in robes?” Harry asked.
“You will be Apparating, not walking,” Severus said.
“Wait,” Harry said, staring at them in astonishment. “You’re telling me that we can simply
Apparate to King’s Cross?”
“Of course we can,” Draco said, rolling his eyes at Harry’s idiocy. “We’re Apparating
directly to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.”
“Then, why hasn’t anyone ever done a Side-Along Apparition with me before?” Harry asked.
“Why the bodyguards and the Ministry cars and –” And risking Sirius’ life by walking to the
station, he added silently.
Remus and Severus exchanged glances.
“Why all the fuss?” Harry asked.
“Albus Dumbledore made some choices that perhaps none of us will ever understand,”
Severus finally said. “Come, it is time for us to leave.”
“You’re coming with us?” Harry asked, surprised once again. He was further bemused by the
expression on Remus’ face, clearly attempting to suppress a wide smile. He wasn’t
succeeding very well, his eyes crinkling in amusement. Severus’ face remained impassive,
though, giving nothing away.
“You don’t have to come with us, do you?” he asked. “Not if we can Apparate.”
“It is customary for parents to see their children off at the station,” Lucius drawled.
Harry gaped at him. “Parents?” he mouthed, unable to get the actual sound out.
“It is also customary for Potter to have an escort so that he does not get himself into trouble,”
Severus said smoothly. “As there are no other Order members present, the task is left to
Remus and myself.”
Blinking slowly, Harry stared at him. The conversation they’d just had, made Severus’
statements blatantly invalid. Harry had always been escorted to the station, not on the
platform itself. The ability to Apparate directly bypassed the need for escorts.
Draco’s arm slid around his waist and Harry turned his head to look at him.
“Ready?” Draco asked nonchalantly.
A grin slowly forming, Harry nodded. He had parents to see him off this year. It was beside
the point that they weren’t officially his parents and he’d be seeing them on the other end of
the trip.
Apparating to the station was ridiculously easy and Harry wondered again why there’d been
so much fuss in the past. Then again, he was only holding a basket with a kitten this year and
didn’t have to worry about his trunk. It was the only explanation he could come up with that
made any sense.
He forgot about the issue entirely as they stepped out of the Apparition area onto the main
platform. Narcissa had kept Victoria at Grimmauld Place, unsure of what kind of reception
they would have, but Crabbe and Goyle stood on either side of Harry and Draco with
Severus, Remus and Lucius right behind them.
“Well, this is different,” Draco drawled sarcastically.
Harry looked around the platform. People were staring at him with fear, anger and awe. And
Draco Malfoy was scowling.
“Looks like normal to me,” he said dryly.
“People often come to a standstill in your presence, do they?” Draco asked.
“It’s been known to happen, but I don’t think it’s ever happened here before,” Harry
admitted.
“You lot do know how to make an entrance,” Blaise said as he approached.
“I don’t even have to try,” Harry said, shrugging.
Draco and Blaise raised incredulous eyebrows. “Only you could say that so casually, Harry,”
Draco drawled.
“It’s true,” Harry said. “It’s not like I actually want to make an entrance. It just happens.”
He changed the subject. “The Weasleys aren’t here yet?” he asked Blaise.
“I haven’t seen them,” Blaise said. “But I got here early just so I could see the reactions to the
arrival of you two.”
Harry waved his arm expansively. “Shock, disapproval, awe, terror. Which reaction were you
most wanting to see?” he asked sarcastically. “You’ve got your pick.”
He narrowed his eyes as he caught sight of Nott and Pansy. “You can add hatred to that list,”
he said.
“They’ve already tried grilling me for information,” Blaise admitted, following his gaze. “I
have to agree with your impression that they seem to think Draco is simply putting on an
act.”
“Did they say anything specific?” Draco asked sharply.
“Of course not,” Blaise answered. “Pansy’s a stupid bitch, but Nott is too clever to say
anything and tip his hand.”
“Not clever enough,” Harry muttered.
“A vague impression doesn’t give us anything,” Blaise said. “And Nott knows that.”
“He will be observed closely,” Severus said. “For now, it is time to get on the train.”
Harry turned around, knowing he probably had a stupid grin on his face but he couldn’t help
himself. He’d worry about Nott and Pansy later, as right now he had parents to see him off to
school.
He hugged Remus tightly, relieved that he wasn’t actually saying goodbye. He was happy
that he’d finally been given an opportunity to spend more time with Remus and didn’t want
to give that up again so soon.
“I’ll see you at Hogwarts, Harry,” Remus reassured and Harry reluctantly let him go.
He didn’t dare try to give Severus a hug in front of all the other students. He didn’t
particularly want detention before they’d even arrived back at school. Or rather, any more
detentions, as he already had to brew potions for the hospital wing.
“What?” he asked warily as he registered Draco staring at him expectantly.
“I was just waiting to see if you truly had a death wish or not,” Draco drawled.
Harry shrugged uncomfortably. “No, not particularly,” he admitted.
“Need I point out that I am not your professor here?” Severus questioned.
Did that mean it was all right to give him a hug? Professor Snape, definitely not. But even
Severus was extremely prickly about those sorts of things. He didn’t look approachable at the
moment with his teaching robes on and the stoic expression.
Severus arched a brow and Harry smiled, stepping forward to give Severus a quick hug.
“Thanks,” he whispered.
“Thank you, Harry,” Severus murmured.
Maybe Severus wanted confirmation of their relationship as well.
Loud gasps had been heard on the platform. Harry turned to look, sharing amused smirks
with Draco, Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle at the gobsmacked expressions of students and parents
alike.
“This was more the type of reaction I was looking for,” Blaise said.
“We should’ve brought some popcorn,” Draco drawled.
Harry burst out laughing, feeling far lighter than he’d expected to feel going back to school.
“Severus, you are turning soft,” Lucius drawled.
“I weighed the risks, and I do not believe it will compromise my reputation,” Severus said
dryly.
Glancing over his shoulder, Harry smirked at him. “Everyone’s certain to still think you’re a
mean bastard,” he agreed.
“That’s because he is,” Draco said, side-stepping to move away from Severus.
“Harry!”
He spotted his friends. “I’ll be right back,” he said.
Draco nodded, taking the opportunity to talk to his father.
Harry hurried over to meet them and Hermione caught him in a hug first. She tilted her head
curiously as she studied him. “You look incredibly happy,” she observed.
“I am,” he managed to say before he was swept into a round of Weasley hugs.
“What’s that?” Ron asked.
Harry looked down at the basket he’d been keeping close to him since he’d arrived at the
station.
“Er, well, it’s Blast,” he reluctantly admitted.
“What’s a Blast?” Ron asked curiously.
“Blast is her name,” Harry said, picking up the basket and lifting the lid to reveal the bit of
fluff tucked cosily inside.
“A kitten?!” Ron exclaimed loudly.
“Oh, she’s adorable,” Ginny cooed, reaching in to pet Blast. “Very manly, Harry.”
Harry scowled at her, snapping the basket lid on her arm. She grinned at him unrepentantly.
“I think Blaise is looking for you,” he said.
“That’s not going to get rid of me, you know,” she said. “You’ll be sitting with us, as Malfoy
will be busy with Head Boy duties.”
“Why do you have a kitten?” Hermione interrupted, peeking into the basket.
“Draco gave it to Victoria for her birthday,” Harry said.
They stared at him incredulously and he shook his head. “I’ll explain later.”
The train whistle blew loudly in warning.
“You lot are to stay out of trouble this year,” Mrs. Weasley said sternly.
“We will,” they chorused, simply causing her to sigh in resignation.
“Just do your best, dears,” she said. “Now, hurry along. The train will be leaving soon.”
“I’ll see you later,” Harry said to Ron and Hermione, knowing they had Prefect and Head
Girl responsibilities. He wanted to catch Draco before he left for the same duties.
“C’mon, Ginny,” he said, grabbing one end of her trunk. “Blaise is with Draco.”
He turned and just about ran into Goyle. He blinked up at him and Crabbe in surprise before
glancing around them. There was probably a reason no one else had approached him. Crabbe
and Goyle took their self-appointed duties seriously.
“I’ll take the trunk,” Goyle said, not bothering to wait for a reply as he took Ginny’s trunk off
Harry’s hands.
“Er,” Harry said, nonplussed.
“Thank you, Goyle,” Ginny said graciously. “Hurry up, Harry.”
Shaking off the encounter, Harry swiftly weaved his way through the throng of parents and
younger siblings, realizing most of the students were already on the train. He skidded to a
halt in front of Draco.
“Late, as usual,” Severus sneered.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Harry protested. “Besides, we’ve probably got two minutes still before
the train starts moving.”
“And you actually know this?” Draco exclaimed. “Do you always cut it this close?”
“Er, usually, yeah,” Harry admitted, hearing Ginny giggling behind him. He cast a glance
over his shoulder. Ginny and Blaise were already boarding the train with Crabbe and Goyle
right behind them.
“Let’s go,” Draco said, heading towards the train.
“Watch yourselves,” Severus warned.
Harry nodded, waving to Remus and smirking at Lucius.
“Harry! We’re going to miss the bloody train if you don’t hurry up,” Draco said.
“I’m coming!” Harry exclaimed. “The train hasn’t left yet, you know.”
He caught up with Draco, grabbing hold of his hand and giving him a quick kiss.
“I’m here now,” he said.
Considering that Draco had been in a rush before, they simply stood together for a few
moments looking at the train.
“I can’t believe I’m actually going back,” Draco said.
“It’s going to be all right,” Harry said softly, knowing Draco was extremely nervous and he
hadn’t been helping by making them almost miss the train.
Draco cast a sidelong glance at him, quirking a half-smile. “Simply the beginning of a new
adventure?” he asked.
“We conquered the Dark Lord,” Harry said, shrugging. “Surely we can conquer Hogwarts.”
The train whistle blew a final warning as its wheels started to slowly turn.
Exchanging smirks, they made a run for the steps. Draco hopped up, taking the basket from
Harry so he could jump on board. As the train picked up speed, they looked back at Severus,
Remus and Lucius, who were still standing on the platform and shaking their heads.
Harry waved to them. “See you at Hogwarts!”
~~Finite~~
A/N: The answer is no. I don’t intend to write a sequel at this point! *grin* I won’t say I’ll
never write one, but I definitely need a break from this universe as I’ve been working on
Secrets since August. I started out simply writing a story about Harry, Draco and a baby for
my own entertainment. If I’ve entertained others as well along the way, then it’s been worth
taking the time share. When I started posting in December, I promised a roller-coaster of a
story. I do hope that if you’ve made it this far, you’ve enjoyed the ride! Thanks for reading!
~~Biza
Works inspired by this one
Secrets [PODFIC] by Opalsong
Please drop by the Archive and comment to let the creator know if you enjoyed their work!

Secrets

Uploaded by

Document Informationclick to expand document information

Document Informationclick to expand document information

Copyright:

Available Formats

Secrets

Uploaded by

Document Information

Copyright

Available Formats

Share this document

Share or Embed Document

Sharing Options

Did you find this document useful?

Is this content inappropriate?

Copyright:

Available Formats

Secrets

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

Secrets

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/8184311.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and company are property of J.K. Rowling.

“Potter? Oh, thank Merlin,” Malfoy murmured.

“You need my help?” Harry asked incredulously. “You’re my enemy, Malfoy!”

“I know that,” Malfoy spat. “But I need you to take her.”

“Stay away, Malfoy!” Harry shouted as forcefully as he could.

“Keep your voice down,” Malfoy hissed.

“Prove it,” Harry whispered, staring at the bundle of robes.

“What’s wrong with her?” Harry asked warily.

“I don’t know how to take care of a baby,” Harry said nervously.

“Shut that thing up!” Vernon shouted furiously.

“Where did she come from?”

“You can help stop this?” she questioned hesitantly.

“Where is your Headmaster?” Petunia asked, sounding almost hopeful.

“Dead,” he answered flatly.

She stared at him in disbelief. “Is there no hope?”

“Where did she come from?” Aunt Petunia asked again.

“Harry?” Petunia questioned him hesitantly.

What did it mean?

What did it all mean?

“How do I do this?” he muttered, knowing he wasn’t going to get an answer.

“Is she all right?” Malfoy asked immediately.

“She appears to be fine,” Harry said evenly.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in, Potter?” Malfoy sneered.

Malfoy glanced warily at the house. “You could,” he admitted coolly.

“I’m not explaining out here,” Malfoy snapped at Harry.

“How do I get you past the wards?” he asked.

“Don’t you know anything, Potter?” Malfoy smirked.

“I’ve never invited a Death Eater here before,” Harry retorted.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and company are property of J.K. Rowling.

“Malfoy, who is she?” Harry asked.

Harry’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Your daughter?!”

“Yes, my daughter,” Malfoy sneered. “Are you unable to hear properly?”

“She’s not an orphan?” he asked dumbly.

“I hate you, Potter,” Malfoy said.

Malfoy resumed his pacing.

“Why did you bring your daughter to me?” Harry asked.

“I didn’t know where else to take her,” Malfoy muttered.

“I know that,” Malfoy sniped. “But no one knows about her.”

Harry blinked. “No one?”

“Why?” Harry asked, but Malfoy ignored him.

“I could always take her to my dear Aunt Bella,” he sneered.

“No,” Harry growled, tightening his grip on the baby.

“Potter! What’d you do to her?” Malfoy asked. “Don’t hurt her!”

“I didn’t hurt her!” Harry snapped. “I think I just scared her.”

“Well, do something!” Malfoy said worriedly. “Fix it!”

“He’s an evil, traitorous bastard,” Harry spat angrily.

“I know we have a lot in common. He told me so himself,” Harry retorted.

“Several years?” Malfoy said in confusion.

Malfoy glared at him. “I don’t have to tell you anything, Potter.”

Harry remembered Malfoy’s words.

“So are you!” Harry shot back.

“It’s different!” Malfoy shouted.

“You’re worthless, you know that,” Harry spat.

“Potter! Where are you going?” Malfoy demanded.

“You really live like this?” Malfoy asked, sounding bemused.

“Where are you going?” Malfoy asked.