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Chapter Text

Harry watched the Dursleys get in the car, Uncle Vernon pushing madly at his wife and son as if the house was already brimming with death eaters. Harry wished he could say he’d miss them, but he couldn’t bring himself to. How do you miss a man that locked you in a cupboard for years, and his wife who essentially starved you, and their brat of a son who bullied you, and made your life hell?

Harry didn’t know.

What Harry did know, however, that things were going to get very much worse before they got better. Dumbledore had given him a task to do, and Harry was determined to finish it, even if it killed him. He was allowing himself until Fleur’s wedding, and then he was going horcrux hunting. He wished Ron and Hermione could come with him, but he refused to drag them into danger with him. They’d take a bit of persuasion, but they would stay behind.

He stepped away from his window, sighing, and started to pack his things. He wouldn’t need all his Hogwarts stuff, like his books and his cauldron, but he thought about bringing his broom. He decided against it. If Moody or Lupin or whoever came for him wanted him to fly to the safe-house, he would, but otherwise it would just be another thing to carry.

He packed as light as possible before deciding he was hungry. In their haste, the Dursleys had forgotten to take their food, and Harry found a tub of ice cream in the freezer- Ben and Jerry’s Phish Food, Dudley’s favourite flavour. He picked up the old wooden spoon Aunt Petunia hadn’t bothered to cram into her suitcase along with all the other kitchen utensils, and went into the cupboard under the stairs.

He sat down on what used to be his bed and ate his ice cream, looking round the small room. His little tin soldiers stood on a shelf, covered in a thick coat of dust, and the spiders lurked in their corner. Harry had long since gotten over his fear of spiders, especially since that particular incident in second year. He almost wanted to smile at the memory, at how close he’d been to death. Sad how that was a regular occurrence.

There was a knock on the front door, and Harry clambered out of his cupboard, still clutching his ice cream, and opened it.

To his surprise, it wasn’t Moody stood before him, or Lupin, or even Tonks or the Weasleys. Stood before him was Draco Malfoy, the boy who was supposed to kill Dumbledore that night on the astronomy tower. He looked nervous, and as soon as Harry opened the door, he skirted round him and into the house. “Draco, what are you doing here?” asked Harry. “Are you alone? Where are the other death eaters?” His scar wasn’t hurting, so he knew Voldemort wasn’t close by, but still, it was unusual to see one death eater without another close by.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was coming,” said Draco, “but you know what it’s like with owls these days. If it’s not the ministry intercepting them, it’s you-know-who.”

“Draco, you’re a death eater, and you’re afraid to say Voldemort’s name?” Draco flinched as Harry said the name. “It doesn’t matter right now, Harry! What matters is that he’s coming for you. There are several spies inside the Order, and they’ve sold you out.”

“Spies in the Order? How is that possible? Mad Eye Moody can tell a spy from ten feet away! He can detect Polyjuice Potion like that!” Draco waved his hand dismissively. “I’ll explain more later, but for now we have to go! Where’s your broom?”

Harry stayed where he was. “How do I know you’re not just going to take me straight to Voldemort? You’ve not exactly proved yourself trustworthy, Draco.” Draco tilted his head to the side. “You really think they’d send me to get you? I couldn’t even kill Dumbledore, and I hated him!”

“Hey! Dumbledore was a good man, and an incredible wizard!”

“I’m not saying he wasn’t, I’m saying I couldn’t kill him, so they don’t trust me anymore! If they were coming to get you, they’d send Bellatrix or Fenrir or someone that wasn’t me!” Harry considered what Draco was saying. It certainly seemed logical…

“My broom’s upstairs. I’ll go and get it.” he ran up the stairs two at a time, and grabbed his broom from the corner of his room. Hedwig screeched at him, and he stopped to poke his fingers through the bars of his cage. “I’m sorry, girl. I can’t take you with me.”

He moved the cage to the window and opened the latch. Hedwig ruffled her wings, and with one last sad look at Harry, flapped off into the distance.

Harry carried his broom carefully down the stairs, and deposited it at Draco’s feet. “What about my stuff?”

“I’ll fly with you to where we’re going, then I’ll apparate back here for your stuff. You’re not seventeen yet, so you’ve still got the trace.” Harry nodded. He really had no idea why he was trusting Draco, but he didn’t really have any other options. If Draco was telling the truth, and there were spies in the Order, then there was a possibility that he wouldn’t live long enough to start collecting horcruxes.

He followed Draco out the front door, and saw that Draco had his broom to. “Where are we going?” he asked. “Just somewhere where no one will think to look for you,” replied Draco. Harry wasn’t sure he liked that answer, but he got on his broom nonetheless and kicked off behind Draco.

They flew higher than they normally would to avoid being seen, and Harry didn’t dare look down for fear he might fall off his broom. He followed Draco’s exact movements for what seemed like hours, before Draco finally started to descend gradually.

Harry snuck a look down at where they were, and saw jagged mountains and cliff faces. Draco landed gracefully on top of one of the tallest, and Harry followed suit.

“Draco, where are we?” he asked. Draco ignored him, muttering under his breath. “This better not be some secluded place where no one can hear me screaming,” half joked Harry. Draco turned round. “Don’t be so stupid, Potter,” he said, hints of his old character showing through. He pushed Harry through an invisible gap, and Harry found himself face to face with a tent. “I’ll be right back,” said Draco. “I’m just getting your stuff.”

He apparated with a snap, and Harry went into the tent. It had been enchanted to be much bigger on the inside, and while it was sparsely decorated, Harry could still sense the luxury that Draco was used to living in.

Draco apparated again outside the tent, and he dragged Harry’s heavy trunk through the canvas door. “Like it?” he asked. “It’s very nice,” said Harry. “Now what was this about spies in the Order?”

Draco sighed as he set down Harry’s trunk, and he sat down in an armchair, indicating Harry to do the same as he started his story.

“As you may or may not have guessed, you and I, we’re both pawns in a much, much bigger game. We’ve been used our whole lives, and ever since you befriended Weasley and Granger, they’ve been played too. Everyone we’ve ever known has been dancing on strings, either controlled by Dumbledore or by V-Voldemort. Everyone in the death eaters is being controlled by Voldemort, and everyone in the Order is being controlled by Dumbledore, or at least, they were. After Dumbledore’s death, a few people in the Order lost their loyalty. They didn’t believe that one sixteen year old kid was capable of doing all Dumbledore said he could. They lost their faith in you, and Voldemort saw his chance. He saw that the Order was corruptible, and he took advantage of it. Some went willingly, some had to be… persuaded. Bill Weasley, for example.”

Harry gasped. “No! Bill Weasley would never… he couldn’t…” Draco shrugged. “He was bitten by a werewolf, Harry. Werewolves are vulnerable. They’re permanently afraid of hurting people they love, and they’ll do anything to avoid it. He knows about fear, Harry. More than anyone else.” Draco’s eyes grew distant, and if Harry didn’t know better, he would have said that Draco himself had had his arm twisted up his back by Lord Voldemort. “Don’t worry; Ron and Hermione are fine. They’re both still firmly on your side, and I doubt much could be said to make them change their minds.”

“The Order! They were supposed to come and get me! They’ll know something’s wrong!” said Harry, jumping to his feet. “Harry, calm down!” instructed Draco. “There’s nothing you can do! We’re in the middle of the Peak District! Not even the stupidest muggles try and get up here, and there’s a protective spell over us. No one gets in, no one can see us.”

“Yeah, but Ron and Hermione will be going crazy, not to mention Mrs Weasley… oh god, is Mrs Weasley…” Draco shook his head. “No. They tried to get to her using Bill and Percy, but they just sent her in the total opposite direction. She cares for you like a son, you know.” Harry nodded. He still remembered his first Christmas at Hogwarts. Mrs Weasley had knitted Harry a sweater because Ron had written home, telling her he wouldn’t get any presents…

Harry shook his head. He couldn’t cry, not in front of Draco. “I’m going outside,” he said. Draco let him go, just sitting in thought. Harry pushed through the canvas flaps, and breathed in the fresh air. He needed to get his head around this somewhat sudden turn of events. Suddenly, his worst enemy from school had turned up on his doorstep, claiming to be his friend, and his actual friends were turned against him. Despite the boy in the tent, Harry had never felt more alone in his life.

Chapter Text

It got dark, and Harry still hadn’t come back into the tent. Draco sighed. I swear, if he’s slipped off the edge of this godforsaken mountain, it’ll be a blessing…

He pulled himself out of his chair, and left the tent to look for him. “Harry? Where are you?” he found him, sleeping by the side of the tent. “Honestly, I set up a nice tent, and where does the fucking chosen one choose to sleep? On the ground, like an animal.” Harry stirred in his sleep, and Draco sighed again. Time to drag him inside.

Harry was actually quite light. Draco was surprised. He’d seen that boy eat at banquets at school, and he’d never known anyone to put it away like Harry did. He must just not eat when he’s at home. He pulled the unconscious boy inside the tent, depositing him on one of the beds he’d set up. Whatever made Harry sleep like that, Draco wanted some. He hadn’t slept properly in weeks.

He settled back in his armchair, reading quietly. He thought about putting on the radio, but all it was these days was lists. Lists of shops that had been shut down. Lists of people the ministry wanted. Lists of people missing. Lists of people confirmed as dead. Draco never listened for fear of hearing the names of people he knew. There was only so much he could take, and he didn’t think he could carry on if he heard his mother’s name, or Penelope’s. Despite what people thought, they weren’t a couple. They’d talked about it, of course, but they’d decided against it. Or rather, Draco had, and Penelope had just followed his lead.

He turned the page in his book when Harry started getting restless. He tossed and turned in his sleep, legs kicking. “No… No…” he kept muttering. “Don’t kill him, he’s not the one you need…” Draco jumped out of his skin as Harry screamed suddenly, jolting awake.

Harry came to, surfacing from his nightmares. He stared around him, wondering where he was. Draco stared at him intently. There was something funny about his face, though… Oh. Harry corrected his glasses. “Alright?” asked Draco. Harry nodded, not quite feeling up to speaking. Draco put down his book. “Nightmares for you too?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” said Harry. “I’ve watched people die in front of my eyes, I’ve almost been killed on multiple occasions, and I was as good as abused by my aunt and uncle for years.”

“Abused?” asked Draco, quietly. Harry nodded. “What, you thought my muggle uncle and aunt would welcome me into their home with open arms? There was a reason I’d never met them before I was dumped on the doorstep. They hated magic, anything to do with it.”

“That’s why you don’t weigh as much as you should,” mused Draco. “How do you know how much I weigh?”

“What, you think your friends at the Order brought you back into the tent? Don’t be so stupid, your sixteen years old.” Harry checked his watch. “Seventeen, actually.”

“What?”

“I’m seventeen, as of an hour ago.”

“Well, happy birthday to you. Get some sleep.” Harry sat up. “Look, if you’re going to be like this the whole time…”

“What, I didn’t wish you happy birthday properly? Grow up, Potter. You think I’m any happier about this than you are? I could have left you to die. I could have left you for the Order, or the death eaters. Don’ t you realise that it’s my neck on the line too? That if I get caught, I’m dead, and probably my family too? Did you think about that?”

Harry stayed in silence, knowing better than to argue with Draco when he was in this type of mind frame. “You’re not the only one who has something to lose, Harry,” said Draco, head buried in hands. “Not by a long way.”

They sank back into awkward silence. Harry lay in bed, furious. How dare Draco suggest he was being selfish? He was hunting horcruxes to kill the darkest wizard ever known. Selfish? He was saving thousands of lives, for pity’s sakes! What was Draco doing?

Going against his family and risking his own life to help you, dumbass.

Sometimes Harry really hated that little voice in his head.

“Draco?”

No answer. “Come on, Draco, don’t be an asshole. I’m sorry. I know this is difficult for you, and it’s going to be difficult for both of us. But if we can just forget about all those stupid schoolyard arguments, then maybe this can work.”

Draco sighed. Great. Now Harry was apologising. Quite right too, he was a total selfish asshole, but Draco did understand what he was going through. He’d just learnt his friends were betraying him to the most dangerous dark wizard the world had ever known.

If you work together, you’re more likely to get this over with, whatever this is.

Sometimes, Draco really hated that little voice in his head.

“Forget about it, Harry. I’m sorry too. I know it’s hard for you, and I think that it would be best if we just got on with it, whatever this is. That reminds me- do you have a plan?”

“I’m hunting horcruxes.” Draco blinked. “H-horcruxes?”

“Yeah, it’s a nasty bit of dark magic where you split your soul…”

“I know what it is!” Draco interrupted. “I just don’t know where we could start, you know? What type of object does an evil wizard turn into a horcrux?” Harry sank back onto his back. “I don’t know.”

Draco grinned. “This is going to be fun!”

Chapter Text

After a night of sleep, Harry’s rationing was kicking in again. The fact that he’d actually woken up in the morning was a good sign Draco wasn’t going to do him in, but Harry was still wary. He’d known Draco for six years, and he’d never seen him be nice to another living soul, something that was no doubt Daddy dearest’s influence.

Draco himself wasn’t sure he’d done the right thing. A death eater meeting had been held out Malfoy manor, and whilst Draco wasn’t technically invited, that didn’t stop him listening in. he knew that the Order had been planning to move Harry on one of two dates. He’d listened in as Snape killed his ex-colleague, and the weight of his situation finally hit him. These people were ruthless. They would kill anybody without a second thought crossing their mind.

Draco had run up to his room, sick to his stomach and almost in tears. He knew that he didn’t belong in that room. He knew that he wasn’t like them. He was a coward. He couldn’t kill someone, he couldn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to look someone in the eye as his mouth formed those words that he dreaded to even think. As he lay on his bed, tears drying, a single thought formed in his mind.

No longer.

No longer would he allow himself to be bullied into doing anything he didn’t want to. No longer would he stand by as innocent people, muggles and wizards alike, were slaughtered in their thousands. No longer would he be a pawn in their game.

He’d run off that night, packing only what he needed, and setting up camp on top of a mountain he’d once visited as a child. It was the safest place he could think of, and he’d set up a tent, big enough for two people, and left home, leaving nothing but a note on his mother’s pillow.

He’d turned up on Harry’s doorstep, hours before the earliest date the Order  was supposedly picking him up, anxious to get to him before it was too late. He’d been shocked when Harry had come with him instantly without question.

Now they were stuck on top of a mountain in the Peak District, with no leads as to where they could start looking for horcruxes, let alone what they might be.

Draco turned round to face Harry. “Are you hungry? Want breakfast?” Harry nodded. “Yeah, but unless you know a spell that can turn grass and rocks into something edible, then I guess it’s not an option.” Draco thought for a moment before a brilliant idea struck him. “Wait here.”

“Well, what other options do I have?” muttered Harry as Draco snapped his fingers and disappeared. He decided to use the solitude as an opportunity to change his clothes in peace. He wandered round the tent to find his case, and picked out a clean t shirt, and a pair of jeans. He shifted through his trunk, surfacing. He shifted past photographs of Hermione and Ron, and the sweater that Mrs Weasley had knitted him.

He felt close to tears as Draco appeared again. “Happy Birthday!” he said, presenting Harry with a box. “What’s this?” he asked. “It’s a cake, genius. It’s your birthday today, so you get cake for breakfast.”

“Where did you get this?” asked Harry warily. “I bought it from a bakers in a side street from Diagon Alley,” said Draco, using his wand to cut the cake. Harry grinned as he took a piece. “So they weren’t too afraid to let you in?”

“I think they were too afraid not too. There’s not a lot I can do about looking like my father; only a certain few people are blessed with hair this colour and jaw structure.” Harry laughed. “All these years, and you’re still a pretentious twat like in first year.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “You’re such a fucking princess, Potter. Shut up and eat your damn cake.”

They ate cake in silence, and Harry had to admit, it was good cake. It wasn’t as good as the little cupcakes Ginny made every once in a while, but it was good. “So, what’s going to happen to Ron and Hermione and Ginny? Will they go back to Hogwarts?”

Draco nodded. “I should imagine so. The only reason Granger would miss out on her education is if she were being dragged over the world by you to hunt horcruxes. Weasley will go because he has such a huge crush on her, and wouldn’t dare go against her. Ginny will pine for you, then she’ll go to Hogwarts with her brother.”

“Ginny does not have a crush on me! And Ron does not fancy Hermione!” Draco rolled his eyes. “It’s so obvious; only you would be so oblivious. Weasley likes Granger because of her brains, and she’s pretty to boot. Ginny’s had a massive crush on you since the end of second year, when you rescued her from the chamber of secrets, which, by the way, Snape still hasn’t managed to find. Obviously, Voldemort knows where it is, being a direct descendent of Slytherin and all, but he won’t tell even Snape where it is.” Harry nodded. “Good. I don’t think I like the idea of Snape being down there, even though the basilisk is dead. I can’t believe I thought it was you.”

“I did everything in my power to make you think it was. I had a bet with some of the older kids that I couldn’t persuade you to think it was me.” They both laughed. “It seems like I’m a bit of a joke down in the Slytherin dungeon,” said Harry. “Harry Potter, you’re a joke everywhere. First years at Hogwarts are probably praying you won’t turn up so that they can get a decent education, unlike everybody else in that goddamn school since you turned up.”

They both laughed. “But where are we going to go?” continued Draco. “I can’t stay on this mountain forever.” Harry thought. Where was the safest place he knew?

Could go back to Privet Drive, he thought before dismissing it. No. I can’t go there, the Order  knows that I live there- or at least, I used to. The whole place could be booby trapped.

What about Malfoy manner? He almost laughed at his own stupidity. Draco ran away from there. That’s death eater HQ, for pity’s sakes.

“Grimmauld Place,” he said out loud. “Grimmauld place is safe!” Draco looked confused. “Where’s Grimmauld Place?” he asked. “It’s my house, Sirius left it to me! It was being used as Order headquarters, but I head Kingsley saying that they were switching to The Burrow, so as to confuse any spies.” Draco nodded. “Okay, we’ll go there. Help me pack up the tent, then we can go.”

With the help of magic, the tent was cleared up in a matter of minutes. Harry was enjoying having the use of magic.  It made everyday things so much simpler, and he could apparate now…

He disappeared and then reappeared on the other side of the tent, next to Draco. “Real mature, Potter. Piss off back to the other side of the tent and help properly.” With a grin, Harry disappeared again. He appeared back on the other side of the tent, and lowered it gently with his wand. “Okay. Now, let’s pack it up, then we’ll go to Grimmauld Place.”

They folded the tent as small as it would go, and then Draco stuffed it into a bag. “How are we going to get into Grimmauld Place?” he asked. “I mean, hasn’t the Order put up all sorts of protective charms?”

Harry stopped. “Oh, shit. I forgot about that… you won’t be able to get in, not with that thing on your arm.”

“We can’t just get rid of it, it doesn’t work like that!” protested Draco. “It’s sort of like an unbreakable vow.” Harry sighed. “Isn’t there a spell you can do to get it off?”

“Probably, but it’s not like he’s just going to go round telling his followers how to un-follow him, he’s a psychopath!”

“Oh really Draco? I hadn’t noticed!” said Harry sarcastically. Draco rolled his eyes. “You know, we could cut it off…” he said thoughtfully. Harry wretched at the thought of cutting out  whole patch of Draco’s arm. “Don’t tell me the great Harry Potter’s afraid of a little blood,” sneered Draco. “I’m not afraid, I’ve just see far too much of it for my tastes,” retorted Harry. “Anyway, that thing will hurt if you start digging it out.” Draco flashed a grin. “Maybe I’m into that sort of thing.”

Harry’s face stayed blank for a little while before the penny dropped. “Not okay, Draco. Trying to have a serious conversation here.” He couldn’t help a little smile as Draco hung his head in mock shame. “Sorry Harry.”

Harry sighed. “I wish Hermione was here. She’d know what to do.” Draco sighed. “Well, she’s not, and you’ve got no way of contacting her. So, are you going to help me cut this thing out or not?”

“Draco, it won’t help. You said it yourself, it’s a magical contract. Cutting out the physical mark of it won’t help against magical charms.” Draco sat back. “Well, how does Snape get in?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“How does Snape get in? He is a death eater, and he’s got the mark, but he’s also part of the Order. I give your intelligence way more credit than it’s worth.” Harry couldn’t do anything but blink vacantly. He’d always suspected, but to hear his fears confirmed out loud by a reliable source was a slap in the face. “Snape just walks in,” he said, eventually. “He just apparates onto the front step and walks through the door, like everyone else.”

“Well, it’s worth a shot,” said Draco. “Come on, grab your stuff and let’s go.” They gathered up all their stuff, and Draco hung onto Harry’s arm. “What are you doing?” asked Harry. “I don’t know where Grimmauld Place is, and I’d rather not risk ending up somewhere totally different, thanks.” Harry sighed, unable to argue with Draco’s logic. He visualised 12 Grimmauld Place in his head, making sure he was absolutely sure before disappearing from the mountain top with a snap.

Chapter Text

To any muggle walking by, eleven and thirteen Grimmauld Place stood next to each other, two ordinary houses, concealing nothing out of the ordinary. To many wizards walking by, the same thing seemed obvious. However, to Draco Malfoy, in between number eleven and number thirteen stood number twelve. Harry Potter simply walked in, knowing that they were safe within its walls.

As Harry entered the room, he turned to talk to Draco. “Sssssso assssssss you c-c-c-…” he stuttered. “C-c-cat got your t-t-t-t-tongue?” stuttered Draco. “I-it must be a tongue twister curse Mad Eye put on the house,” said Harry, speech returning as normal. However, he made very little progress down the hall before a figure arose from the carpet. “H-Harry?” stammered Draco, even though he was no longer under the tongue twisters curse, “What is that?”

The figure looked like Dumbledore. A little rough around the edges, but the deceased man’s eyes were clearly distinguishable. “You killed me!” it roared, flying towards the two terrified boys at alarming speed. “We didn’t kill you!” cried out Harry. The figure burst into dust, disappearing as quickly as it had come.

They stood there in stunned silence, wondering what exactly had just happened. Harry noticed a gripping sensation in his right forearm, and glancing down, he saw Draco’s hand clenched so tightly onto his arm so tightly the knuckles had turned white. “Um, Draco?”

Draco seemed to notice his hand on Harry’s arm for the first time, and cleared his throat while his cheeks turned red, and he removed the offending item. “So, where exactly is this?”

“It’s my house,” said Harry. “Sirius grew up in this house, and he left it to me in his will. There should even be a house elf somewhere round here.”

Draco nodded as he took in his surroundings. “It’s a little dark, isn’t it?” Harry shrugged. “You’ve got a wand. Fix it.”

Harry went in search of Kreacher while Draco occupied himself with the lights. He searched all over the house, and eventually found him hiding in a cupboard. “Intruders!” he shrieked as Harry opened the doors. “Kreacher!” shouted Harry over all the wailing. “Kreacher, stop all this noise! It’s only me!” Kreacher stopped immediately, and cautiously peeked through his fingers at Harry. “Master,” he said, clambering out of the cupboard. “Surely Master cannot be by himself?” asked the elf, a seemingly innocent question, but Harry understood the true intent of the question. “No, Kreacher, but Hermione and Ron aren’t with me.”

“No mud-blood or blood traitor?” asked Kreacher, his voice lifting in hope. Harry gritted his teeth as he remembered he had to be nice to this infuriating elf. He’s just parroting what the Blacks say, he told himself as he spoke, deliberately calmly. “No, Kreacher, Hermione and Ron aren’t here, and you mustn’t use those terms again, no matter what Mrs Black used to say.” Kreacher scowled at the mention of his mistress’ name, but tilted his head to the side. “Well, if Master isn’t alone, who is Master with? Is Master with the wolf? Or maybe another member of the Order?”

Harry shook his head. “No, Kreacher, none of the Order are here. It’s me and Draco Malfoy.” Kreacher’s face lit up when Harry said Draco’s name. “Malfoy? What a wonderful family, but Draco is weak…” he said, glancing up at Harry to check if his words were allowed.

“No, Kreacher, Draco isn’t weak. He’s helping me, so you must do what he asks of you unless I tell you not to, alright?” Kreacher nodded. “Thanks Kreacher,” said Harry, smiling. Hermione would be proud of how nice he was being to this somewhat stubborn elf. Kreacher bowed out and shuffled off.

Harry found Draco in the living room, examining the photos on the wall. “Did you find him?” asked Draco. “Yeah, I found him. He was hiding in a cupboard. He thought we were intruders.” A sudden though occurred to Harry. “hang on… there shouldn’t be any intruders here,” he said. “It’s got all sorts of charms on it, unless they already knew about them…”

He turned pale faced to Draco. “Do you think the Order knows we’re here?” Draco shrugged. “It doesn’t matter anyway. The worst thing that happens is they come for us, we die, and Voldemort wins but we won’t have to live through a world with a tyrannical dictator because we’ll be dead.”

“Ever the cheerful influence,” muttered Harry, oddly comforted by this. “I’ll ask Kreacher later. For now, we need to  sort out rooms.”

Harry and Draco went upstairs to decide on rooms, but Harry got distracted by Sirius’ door. Draco didn’t notice Harry’s disappearance until he started talking. “So, which one do you want? After all, it is your house.” There was no reply, and Draco turned round. “Harry?” One of the doors was open, and when Draco got closer, he saw a plaque on the door with Sirius’ name on it. Harry was stood in the middle of the room, and even from a distance the emotion was written clearly across his face. Draco knew he was reliving his god father’s death that Draco’s father had told Draco about. He’d come back home haunted, and after revealing that he had indeed been unsuccessful in his quest, he had informed his suddenly distraught wife that they had managed to kill Sirius Black in the process, a key member of the Order. How awful it must have been for Harry to watch his last living family member die in front of his very eyes.

Harry noticed Draco’s presence in the doorway and looked up. “Sorry, what was that?” he asked. “Oh, I just wanted to know which room you’d prefer,” said Draco, not quite meeting Harry’s eyes. “I don’t mind,” said Harry, pulling himself up and out of the prison of his thoughts. “Would it be a strange to request that we share a room though?” he asked. “It’s just that, I don’t particularly like being on my own, not after years of sharing at Hogwarts, and at Ron’s…” he trailed off, realising he was just babbling to fill the silence.

“It’s fine,” said Draco. Harry stood awkwardly, unsure of what to say next. “Spare room?” suggested Draco. Harry nodded. He had no idea what was in Regulus’ room, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out just yet. “Spare room.”

They walked past Regulus’ room on their way to dump their things in the spare room, and Harry caught sight of a note on the door, signed at the bottom with three letters.

R.A.B.

“R.A.B,” he breathed. “R.A.B.! that’s who it is! Regulus Black! Sirius said his brother was a death eater who changed his mind, it makes so much sense now!” Draco looked confused as Harry pulled out the locket from his pocket. He tore thee note out, and held the two pieces of paper together to compare handwriting. Yes! It was him!

“Who’s R.A.B. and why does he matter?” asked Draco. Harry thrust the note at him. “Here. Dumbledore and I went to find a horcrux about a day or two before he died. We found a locket in a cave full of Inferi, but when I opened it, it had this note inside.” Draco read in silence. “So you think Sirius’ brother stole the original horcrux, and left this fake one? Why would he do that?”

Harry shrugged. “He changed his mind about being a death eater, and changing that locket must have been one of the last things he did before he died.”

Draco still didn’t really understand, but went along with it anyway, hoping Harry knew exactly what he was doing. Harry knew what he should do, and that was to ask Kreacher, but he didn’t know how well that would turn out.

Kreacher came searching for them at around six o’clock, claiming their dinner was going cold. “Dinner?” asked Harry. He’d forgotten that they hadn’t even eaten lunch, and his slice of cake that he’d eaten for breakfast started getting lonely at the mention of more food.

“Yes, Master. Kreacher has prepared dinner for Master and Mr Malfoy. It was Kreacher’s duty to serve the house of Black, and now it is Kreacher’s duty to serve Master Potter.” Harry followed Kreacher downstairs where they found that the table had been set, and on it there were two plates of stew. Harry’s stomach growled at the sight of the warm food, just waiting to be eaten. “Well, thank you, Kreacher,” he said, smiling at the elf. Kreacher mumbled something in the way of “it was nothing,” and shuffled out of the room, leaving Draco and Harry to eat. “That is possibly the best thing I’ve seen all day,” said Draco. Harry didn’t bother wasting time with words as he settled into his stew with gusto.

After they’d finished, Kreacher came back to clear their plates. Harry, feeling slightly braver on a full stomach, caught his attention. “Kreacher, do you have a minute?” Kreacher put the plates back on the table. “Of course, Master. What is it that you require?”

Harry swallowed uncomfortably. “We need to have a little chat about Regulus.” Kreacher’s eyes narrowed. “We need to know whether he ever had a locket just like this one,” continued Harry, pulling the fake out of his pocket. Kreacher visibly recoiled away from it, but unable to defy Harry’s order, started to speak. “Yes, Master Regulus did have a locket like that.”

One very long story later, Harry was furious. “Mundungus Fletcher! That good for nothing little rat! How dare he steal from Sirius! How dare he steal from me!” Kreacher flinched at Harry’s rage, afraid the angry boy might strike out at him. “Kreacher, I want you to do something for me, said Harry, calmly. “I want you to go, first thing tomorrow, and find Mundungus Fletcher, and bring him here. Okay?” Kreacher nodded, and finally cleared the plates from the table.

Harry sat fuming in his chair, silent. Draco was unsure of what to say, and was about to open his mouth to say probably the wrong thing when Kreacher walked in with two of the slices of cake Draco had bought this morning. “Master, would you like some cake?” he asked. Harry snapped out of his thoughts, and took it gratefully. “Thank you, Kreacher. Would you like some cake? There’s plenty, if you want some.” Kreacher’s eyes filled with tears of joy. “Never has Kreacher been allowed to try cake!” he cried. Harry smiled. “Well, today’s your lucky day! Go on, get a piece. You don’t have to finish it if you don’t like it.”

Kreacher dashed out the room after quickly depositing Draco’s cake in front of him. Harry stared after him. “I thought it might be nice to let him have something nice, after we made him tell a difficult story.”

“Good call,” said Draco through a mouthful of cake.

Chapter Text

Kreacher left early the next morning after making pancakes for the two boys. They ate them with gusto, enjoying Kreacher’s rather brilliant cooking skills.

After breakfast, neither was completely sure on what to do with themselves. “Well, what you normally do?” asked Draco. Harry shrugged. “When I'm at home, I spend time with Ron, but when I’m with the Dursleys, I'm pretty much left with staring at a wall, maybe doing a little school work.”

“Interesting,” commented Draco. “You refer to the Weasley house as home, rather than the place where your aunt and uncle raised you for most of your life.” Harry bristled. “The only reason those people took me in is because I was physically left on their doorstep. If not, then I would have ended up in an orphanage. I’ve always felt more at home with the Weasleys.”

Draco nodded, noting the information in his brain. He didn’t know how it might be useful, but you never know…

“But that still doesn’t solve our problem of something to do,” said Harry, snapping Draco out of his thoughts. Draco shrugged. “I might practice my patronus. It’s alright, but I doubt it would be enough against more than one dementor.”

“Does it need to be?” asked Harry. Draco nodded. “He’s recruiting dementors. Surely you must have figured out the one that attacked you and your cousin in the middle of a muggle village wasn’t under ministry control?”

“I thought Voldemort did control the ministry.”

“Not at that point,” confirmed Draco. “At that point, he was gathering followers and rounding up all sorts of magical creatures to come and fight for him.”

“Like giants,” breathed Harry, remembering Hagrid’s absence at the start of fifth year, and how he’d returned with all sorts of cuts and bruises, and his baby brother. “For obvious reasons, he also wants the dementors, hence why I need to practice my patronus.”

“Should have come to DA,” joked Harry. “You think we didn’t know what was going on? It was just a matter of finding that damn room. I knew, the rest of the Inquisitorial Squad knew, Umbridge knew.” Harry instinctively rubbed the back of his hand where a reminder of his detention with Umbridge still remained. “That woman was a toxic bitch. I mean, I never was particularly fond of Professor Trelawney, but Umbridge had no right to kick her off school grounds like that! McGonagall did the right thing standing up to that absolute-”

“I agree,” said Draco, before Harry had time to think of an expletive foul enough to express his feelings for Umbridge. “She was always nice to me, because she knew my father from her job at the ministry. She made me her model child, and put me on the Inquisitorial Squad by default.”

Draco still remembered the ‘little chat’ he and Umbridge had had after she called him into her office. “Come on, Draco,” she cooed. “Daddy would be ever so proud! Upholding law and order, fishing out Potter and his equally troublesome little posse… and, you’ll receive extra privileges!”

“But I’m already a prefect,” he’d argued. “I don’t need any extra power. I’ll catch Potter, one way or another.”

“And that’s why you’ll make the perfect chief for the IS!” she slapped a badge onto his robes, and shoved him out of her office. Of course, after he joined, Pansy had joined, and then Crabbe and Goyle, then the list of Slytherins simply following their prefect’s example grew and grew.

“I actually thought your little defence club was a good idea,” he said to Harry. “Although, calling it Dumbledore’s Army was unnecessary provocation. In any case, it was better than the duelling club Lockhart set up in second year when the Basilisk was petrifying people.”

Harry laughed at the memory. “And everyone thought I was the heir of Slytherin, because of the time at duelling club you threw a snake at me. It was going to attack Justin, so I told it not to, but everyone thought I was egging it on.” They both laughed. “As if you’re the heir of Slytherin! You’d think the heir would at least be in Slytherin.”

“The hat thought about it,” said Harry quietly. “It really wanted me to be put in Slytherin; it kept telling me I’d do better in Slytherin.”

“Imagine if you had been in Slytherin,” said Draco, pondering. “You and I would probably have been friends. We could have been prefects together, and I wouldn’t have had to rely on Crabbe and Goyle for support. Maybe we would have done this sooner. Maybe it wouldn’t have had to be like this. I wouldn’t have had to betray my family, and you wouldn’t have to hide from the world. Maybe he would have let you live.” He sounded almost sad, and for a split second Harry could see it; laughing together with Draco in the Slytherin common room, visiting Malfoy Manor during the summer holidays, meeting Draco’s parents for the first time. Then his thoughts took a darker turn, showing him himself meeting Voldemort, becoming a death eater, destroying the wizarding world alongside some of the most wanted criminals…

“It wouldn’t have been different,” said Harry. “This whole war isn’t about Voldemort wanting to kill me; it’s about him wanting power. He still would have infiltrated the ministry; he still would hunt down muggleborns, even if we hadn’t met that night in Godric’s Hollow. He’s a bad person, and I’m just a rock on his road to power. Even if had been sorted into Slytherin, we would both have ended up being death eaters, and we would have just both been tools in the destruction of wizarding kind.”

“The destruction of wizard kind?” asked Draco. “Don’t you think you’re being a little over dramatic? I mean, I know it’s not a good thing, but I doubt wizard kind would die out.”

“Think about it,” insisted Harry. “How many people are there, just in our year at Hogwarts that are muggleborns, or have one muggle parent? Now think about walking down Diagon Alley, and imagine that every third person is muggleborn. That’s a lot of dead people, isn’t it? And it won’t stop with muggleborns. After they’re all gone, and all of the half-bloods, and there are only purebloods left, he’ll start attacking muggles, and anyone that helps them, or stands up to him. Soon, it’ll be just him and his death eaters.”

Draco remained silent, the importance of their job crashing down on him. For want of anything better to do, he raised his wand.

“Expecto Patronus”

His wand gave a feeble burst of light, not even capable of making a single dementor cough. “You need to think happy thoughts,” said Harry, watching intently. Draco searched through his mind. Well, there was the time Pansy threw him a surprise party in the Slytherin common room, and they’d all gotten drunk on Firewhisky. Or maybe the time when he’d caught his very first snitch for the Slytherin Quidditch team…

“Expecto Patronus!”

His patronus was stronger than before, but still, it wasn’t up to much. “Come on,” urged Harry. “You can do it.” Draco had an idea. He shut his eyes, and repeated what Harry just said over and over in his head.

“Expecto Patronus!”

“That’s it!” he heard Harry cry. He peeked open one eye to find a lion prowling at his feet.

Interesting.

Chapter Text

Kreacher still wasn’t back at lunch time, so Harry went into the cupboards to see what they had. Draco had refused to cook, on the grounds that he’d never had to in his life, and he’d probably manage to kill them both. Harry, on the other hand, was quite a good cook after years of catering to the Dursleys fussy tastes. He found a packet of pitta breads. Perfect.

“Draco, you useless brat! Get in here and help!” Draco rambled round the corner. “What do you want me to do?”

“Put these in the toaster.” Harry threw the packet at him, and turned to the fridge to find some bacon. Draco simply stood, looking round him. “Come on,” said Harry, noticing Draco still hadn’t moved. The blonde boy flushed red. “I… I don’t know which one the toaster is,” he admitted, embarrassed. Harry felt an incredible pity for the boy. “You really have never done anything for yourself, have you?”

He showed Draco how the toaster worked, and told him not to put a knife in to get the pittas out when they were done. “I’m cooking bacon to go in it. You want some?”

Draco nodded. “Sure.” Harry waited for the bacon to grill, checking it occasionally. When it had reached the crispy stage Harry was particularly fond of, he pulled it out, placing it on the smooth marble surface before turning round to get a fork. He slipped on a puddle of water on the floor, arms flailing before grabbing onto the closest thing to prevent himself from falling.

Unfortunately, that thing was the fresh out of the grill bacon tray.

“FUCK!” yelled Harry, retracting his hand quickly and slipping onto the floor. Draco came running back into the kitchen from the dining room where he’d been setting the table.

“Harry? What’s wrong!” Harry pulled himself off the floor. “Nothing. I burnt my hand, that’s all.”

“Let me see.”

“I’m not five, I can take care of it myself,” hissed Harry, but Draco was undeterred. “Let me see,” he repeated calmly. Harry reluctantly held out his hand. Draco grabbed hold of it and uncurled Harry’s fingers, ignoring the little part of him that was going into hyper-drive.

“It should be okay, but I’ll fix it anyway.” He pulled his wand out of his pocket and muttered something under his breath, lightly tracing the tip over the burn mark. The mark healed as it came into contact with Draco’s wand. Harry stood silently, unsure of what happened next.

All of a sudden, he collapsed onto the floor, lying motionless on the tiles. “Harry?” Draco dropped to his knees. “Harry, wake up!” Oh God… I’m going to have to give him mouth to mouth… Draco cringed. Why me? He sighed as he tilted back Harry’s head, pinching the unconscious boy’s nose closed.

He braced himself, and went for it, pushing air into Harry’s lungs, breathing for him. He felt movement in Harry’s body, and he sat up, waiting for Harry to do the same. Instead, he started laughing.

“Fooled you!”

An hour later, Draco still wasn’t speaking to Harry. “Come on, Draco,” teased Harry. “It was just a trick!” Draco huffed. “You did a great job on my hand,” said Harry. “Look, no trace of a mark, and no pain!”

Still nothing.

“Now you’re just being childish.”

“Childish! That’s bloody rich coming from the boy who just fell to the floor pretending to be dead, just for kicks!” Harry stopped. “What did you just say?”

“I said that’s bloody rich coming from the boy who just fell to the floor pretending to be dead, just for kicks. What did you think I sai- Oh…” 

They both looked at the floor, uncomfortable. “You know, I probably would do something like that,” said Harry. “You know, pretend I was dead so I could get some mouth to mouth from someone pretty.”

“Stop it,” said Draco. “No jokes; I'm still angry with you.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable… but I…” Harry swallowed uncomfortably. “ButIwasn’tjoking,” he said, all at once. “Sorry, didn’t catch that. Repeat it?”

“But I wasn’t joking,” mumbled Harry, staring at his feet. “And I’m not really angry with you,” whispered Draco. Why did this have to be so awkward?

Just as they both struggled to find something to say, the front door opened. Both boys froze in fear, listening as a calm voice informed the dust figure that it was not him who killed him. “It’s Remus,” mouthed Harry. Draco nodded, which Harry took to mean that they were okay.

Said man walked through the door, wistful look in his eyes, falling short when he saw Harry. “Harry?” he asked, cautiously. “Umm… yes?” replied Harry, unsure of the problem. Remus sank down on the sofa opposite him. “We all thought you were dead,” he whispered softly. “What? No! Why would I be dead?” asked Harry. “Why else would we turn up at Privet Drive, ready to transport you to a safe house, only to find you gone, and a group of death eaters ready to ambush us?” demanded Remus, getting increasingly angry. “WHERE WERE YOU?”

“I WAS GONE! DRACO SAVED MY LIFE!”

“SAVED YOUR LIFE? YOU MUST BE THICKER THAN YOU LOOK, HARRY! DRACO. IS. A. DEATH. EATER!” As if only just noticing said boy’s presence on the sofa next to Harry, Remus jumped back. “You! You told them we were coming! You told them everything!” he grabbed Draco and in one swift movement pushed him up against the wall, wand pointed at his throat.

“ENOUGH!” shouted Harry. “REMUS PUT HIM DOWN!” Remus stared at Harry as if he’d lost it. “Harry, this boy bullied you for six years at Hogwarts, both his parents and the majority of his family are death eaters, he himself is a death eater, and you think he’d trustworthy?”

“You don’t know him like I do!”

“You sound like a teenager!”

“I AM A TEENAGER!” shouted Harry. “I think you people keep forgetting that! I’m seventeen years old, I still had the Trace on me until a couple of days ago! Dumbledore gave me a task to do, and I can no longer rely on the Order to back me in it. That boy is the only support I have left in the world.”

Remus looked appalled.  “Of course you can count on the Order, Harry! What about Ron and Hermione! They’re your friends! They still think you’re dead, everyone does. People have stopped fighting because they think you’re gone, and you’re not the only one who’s died, Harry. Mad-Eye’s dead! Mad-Eye is dead because of this boy!”

“IT WASN’T HIS FAULT!” shouted Harry. “Look, just put him down, and we can talk about this.” Remus cautiously let Draco down, and the blonde boy gasped for air. “Fine,” said Remus. “You want to talk? Then start talking.”

Harry explained the situation to Remus, from how Draco had appeared on his doorstep to everything Draco had told him that night in the tent. “So, you see, I can’t trust anyone. I can trust you because I know that you’re not a traitor. I don’t believe anyone is a traitor by choice; Lord Vol-”

“Shush!” Remus glanced out of the window. “You haven’t been using that name, have you?” Harry thought back. “Not really, why?”

“I found out yesterday- the name’s been tabooed.” Draco looked confused. “What does that mean?”

“It means that if it’s said out loud, there’s a sort of signal that goes out to snatchers. There are very few people who are brave enough to say that name, and one of them is you, Harry. From now on, I don’t want you to say it, at least out loud.” Harry nodded gravely. This was getting worse than he thought. “Who are the snatchers?” he asked. “Well, since He Who Must Not Be Named took over the ministry through his puppet Thicknesse, all muggleborns had to submit to questioning at the ministry. Naturally, not everyone went, whether through fear, or whether they’ve already left the country, or they were ill or whatever. There’s now a list of muggleborns who are, essentially, wanted people.”

“Hermione,” whispered Harry. Remus nodded. “Unfortunately, as Miss Granger is well known to be an acquaintance of yours, she is also high up on the Undesirables list. Number three, I think she is. Of course, you are number one, and I believe Ron is number two. There are a great many other people on that list, myself included, as well as the Weasley family, with the exception of Percy, Ginny and Charlie, who is still in Romania and hopefully has no idea that this unpleasant business is occurring back home. Everyone in the Order is on that list, and the Snatchers all have a copy. They are hunting for people like us, who are on the Undesirable list, muggleborns that didn’t submit themselves for questioning, and also, for children playing truant from school, a category that the two of you both fall in. Attendance at Hogwarts is now compulsory, even though for many, that will not make a difference, but it means any children living in Britain that go to school elsewhere are being forced to change schools.”

“Why?” pondered Draco. “It’s so he can control them from the very beginning,” hissed Harry, furious. “Snape is headmaster of Hogwarts now, and everyone knows he’s just Vol- I mean He Who Must Not Be Named’s puppet. He’s going to turn the kids into elitists, and he’s going to control their minds and their thinking and use them as mini soldiers for his cause, and use them to control the parents too!” Harry stood, fists balled. “We can’t fail, Draco. We have to do this, and do it fast.” he turned to Remus. “Spread the word. Tell everyone I’m not dead; it’s not going to do any harm; the death eaters already know I’m not dead. Tell Ron and Hermione to fight against Snape’s regime, tell them to do everything they can to corrupt the system from the inside.”

“They’ve not gone back, Harry. Think about it. They are Undesirables, and pretty damn high on the list. They’re not going to go waltzing into the danger! They’re being kept safe at one of the safe houses, not that they’re too keen on that.” Remus rose from his chair. “I came to offer my services, but I see you’ve already enlisted some help. Just remember, Harry,” he leaned in close. “The sad thing about betrayal is that it never comes from your enemies.”

And with that, he was gone.

Chapter Text

Remus appeared back at Seashell Cottage, where Ron and Hermione anxiously waited for his return, hoping he’d bring Harry with him. Their faces fell when he walked through the door alone. “Well? Did you find him?” asked Hermione, barely giving Remus a chance to close the door. Harry’s words echoed through his mind. The Order’s not safe anymore… there are spies everywhere. Be very careful.

“Remus? Did you find what you were looking for?” asked Fleur. “Where did you go, anyway?” Remus nodded. “Yes, I found Harry. He’s alive and well, and he’s not alone.”

“Well? Where is he?” demanded Hermione. “We’re his best friends, and he didn’t even bother to contact us to say he was alright! When I see Harry again…” she shook her head. “How about a walk down the beach?” suggested Remus. He needed to talk to Ron and Hermione on their own, and he hoped they understood. Fortunately, Hermione seemed to catch it. “Yes, what a lovely idea. I’ve been going crazy, staying inside all day.” Ron groaned. “I think it’s starting to rain…” Hermione elbowed him in the side. “Come on,” she said, nodding towards Remus. Ron seemed to get it then, and he shouted to Bill. “Bill, we’re going for a walk on the beach. Getting some fresh air.”

“Alright,” Bill shouted back. “Take your wands, and don’t be long.”

They hurried out the door, anxious to hear what Remus had to say. “The Order’s been compromised,” he told them, once they were far enough away from the house. “There are certain people in the Order that have been blackmailed into being spies for He Who Must Not Be Named. We don’t know who exactly they are, but you must keep this information to yourselves so as not to arouse suspicion. To expose spies now would endanger everyone. Harry is completely fine, and he’s not alone. He says he has a plan, and that he’ll be fine without you two endangering yourselves.”

“That’s ridiculous,” said Hermione. “Where is he? We’ll go and find him.” Remus shook his head. “If he’s got any sense, he’ll have moved locations by now. He’s already taking an enormous risk being where he is with who he is with.”

“Who’s he with?” asked Ron suspiciously. Remus took a deep breath. “Draco Malfoy.”

“Malfoy?! But he’s a death eater! Are you sure Harry’s okay? He’s not under any charms, is he?” Remus held up his hand. “I know. That was my initial reaction, but think about it. If Draco Malfoy is caught by snatchers helping Harry Potter, his whole family will die in front of his eyes. That’s also how Harry found out that the Order’s in trouble. Draco sat in on a death eater meeting and they were discussing the Order.”

Hermione still didn’t seem convinced. “I’m not sure why Harry thinks he can trust this boy. I mean, he was going to kill Dumbledore!”

“But he didn’t,” said Ron quietly. “I mean, he was trusted by You Know Who to do a job, but he didn’t do it. Why would he refuse to kill Dumbledore just to stab Harry in the back?”

They walked along the beach until dark, discussing Harry’s choice of company. Hermione still didn’t seem convinced, and whilst outwardly arguing with her, both Remus and Ron secretly agreed. Lying awake in bed that night, Ron prayed with all his heart that Harry had made the right choice.

*****

After Remus’ visit, the boys at Grimmauld Place had reverted back to practising casting patronuses. After producing his lion earlier, Draco had tried using different memories involving Harry. The time in first year they had received detention together, and had gone wandering through the forest alone didn’t do very well. Draco supposed there was too much fear surrounding that particular experience. Then there was the time where had duelled together in second year, just before Harry found out he was a Parseltongue.  That didn’t do too well either.

“Come on,” encouraged Harry. “Just use the same memory you used earlier; it was a good one.” Harry thought it must have been a surprise birthday party, or the first time Draco rode a broom., although when Harry had first tried conjuring a patronus all those years ago in Remus’ office, Remus had told him that type of memory wasn’t strong enough. “Which memory are you using?” he asked, out of curiosity. Draco flushed red. “Well, at the minute, I’m using the time Pansy threw me a surprise party in the common room,” he lied. “What about the time it actually worked and there was a scale lion wandering round the room?” persisted Harry.  Draco went an even deeper shade of scarlet. “Well, before, I… um…” he blew out a deep breath. “I used your encouragement,” he said, not quite meeting Harry in the eye. Harry blushed to match Draco. “I, um, I’m glad you think of it as a positive memory…”

Oh god, here comes another awkward moment like before… thought Draco. Where’s Lupin to help me out of this one? Well, it’s now or never…

“I… I think I like you,” stammered Harry, beating Draco to it. “There’s that Gryffindor courage,” teased Draco, glad he wasn’t the one who had to say it. “Believe me, that wasn’t easy,” said Harry, feeling like he was going to throw up with nerves. “Nothing ever is,” said Draco quietly. “I like you too, Harry Potter.”  The tension stretched over them, silence expanding on forever. “Expecto Patronus,” whispered Draco.

A proud silvery lion jumped from the tip of his wand, prowling across the floor, brushing up against the tips of Harry’s fingers. Harry smiled weakly, a little smirk that turned into a giggle, then into a full laugh. Draco found himself laughing too. They both laughed, and the lion dissipated into thin air as Draco lost concentration. They laughed hard, unsure of what exactly was so funny.

Eventually, Draco wiped his eyes. “Why were we laughing? I mean, you started laughing, and then it was so infectious I just had to join in.” Harry stopped giggling. “You see me as a lion?” he asked. “Harry Potter, you are so vain. That could just be my favourite animal. Anyway, it’s perfectly logical. All I’ve known you as for most of my life is that boy in Gryffindor that’s better than me at most things I’ve only ever known you in the sense of house rivalries at Hogwarts.” Harry considered Draco’s words. “Have you ever considered how seriously we take the house system at Hogwarts? I mean, we’re pitted against each other in everything.” Draco shrugged. “Are we not talking about the elephant in the room then?” he asked. “Because if you don’t want to, I’m totally okay with having that particular conversation another day.”

Harry sighed. “I suppose we ought to,” he said. “What should we do?”

“I suppose normal teenagers start a relationship, but I would say we’re normal teenagers, would you?”

“Maybe we could,” Harry said, thinking out loud. “Have one aspect of a normal life. It would definitely make hunting horcruxes more fun…” he stole a glance at Draco. “What do you think?”

“I think a great many things. I mean, a relationship is just one more thing that can be used as leverage, and it’s a distraction, and they just make life complicated,” said Draco, pretending not to notice the spike in his pulse. “Well, it was just a suggestion,” said Harry quickly, not wanting to make the situation any more awkward. “I mean, there are plenty of other options to consider…” Draco slipped his hand into Harry’s as the other boy trailed off. “Let’s do it. Let’s be normal teenagers, Harry.”

Harry stepped up onto tiptoes and kissed Draco lightly on the cheek, causing the blonde boy to flush red. “Let’s.”

Chapter Text

Draco was asleep when he felt a light tap on his shoulder. He jerked awake, causing his assailant to flinch backwards. Draco only relaxed when he saw who it was. “Harry,” he said, smiling. “Has Kreacher come back?”

Harry’s face was obscured by the dark shadows in the room, but the moonlight shining through the open curtains made the tears glisten as they ran down Harry’s face. “Harry? What’s wrong?” Harry didn’t say anything, sobbing silently. He stood quietly by the side of Draco’s bed until Draco shifted over, sitting up properly, and patted the space next to him for Harry to sit down in. Harry sank down onto the bed, still crying. Draco put his arm round Harry, and rubbed his shoulder comfortingly. “Harry, what’s wrong?” It took a little while before Harry answered. “I don’t want to be the chosen one,” he whispered. “I want to go home to my mum and dad, and go to Hogwarts and learn how to do magic like a normal person.” He started crying again, and all Draco could think of to calm the hysterical boy was to rub his shoulder, and pray that that was enough.

Eventually, Harry’s breathing rate steadied and he fell asleep, sitting up in Draco’s bed. Draco sighed as he carried him back over to his own bed, laying him down softly onto the blankets and brushing the hair out of his face. Then, he climbed back into his own bed, and slipped back to sleep.

Draco woke up in the morning to the smell of bacon, and for a second forgot that he was not, in fact in Malfoy Manor, but in 12 Grimmauld Place. He rolled over to face the room, and saw the empty bed next to his, and the events of the previous night came flooding back to him.

He wandered down to the kitchen where Harry was stood by the cooker, and a frying pan of bacon sizzled furiously. “Good morning,” yawned Draco. “It lives!” cried Harry. “Well, if someone hadn’t kept me up half the night, maybe I could have risen with the dawn too.”

Harry looked confused. “Was I talking in my sleep again?”

“I’ve gotten used to that, but what I haven’t gotten used to is you waking me up in the middle of the night in tears, claiming you don’t want to be the chosen one!” Draco suddenly realised his tone sounded harsher than he meant it to, and softened his voice. Harry stared at the floor. “I don’t remember doing that,” he said. Draco put an arm round his shoulder. “It’s alright, you were probably sleep talking and walking. People do that, you know, when they’re feeling stressed.” Harry laughed bitterly. “I think we’ve both got pretty good reason to be stressed.” Draco smirked, and Harry turned his attention back to the breakfast, still feeling embarrassed. He really didn’t mean to reveal his thoughts to anyone. If people thought he couldn’t do it, all hope was lost. He never wanted to let on how terrified he truly was, and if his own subconscious was fighting against him, what chance did he really have?

A crash through the back door interrupted his thoughts, and both he and Draco jumped to their feet, wands at the ready. “Who’s there?” called Harry. “It’s only me, master,” called back Kreacher. “I’ve found Mundungus Fletcher, as master asked.”

The house elf came tumbling into view, dragging along a short man, who was screaming murder. “MUNDUNGUS!” shouted Harry, over the man’s protests at being dragged along by a house elf. He immediately stopped, turning to stare at Harry and Draco. “Harry! You’re alive!”

Suddenly he bolted for the door, but Kreacher stopped him with a snap of his fingers, slamming the door shut and locking it. Mundungus cowered against the door. “Look, it was an accident alright? I never meant to leave Mad Eye alone!”

“What?” asked Harry, confusion crossing his face before he remembered Remus’ visit yesterday. “Mad Eye’s dead,” clarified Mundungus, “And it wasn’t me what killed him!”

“I never said it was,” said Harry, coolly. The way Mundungus was defending himself made Harry doubt he was totally guilt free, but that wasn’t why they had asked Kreacher to find him. “Look, I didn’t send Kreacher after you to get vengeance on Mad Eye, so you can calm down.”

“Good, it’s just that knowing how close you two was, I thought that you might have some need for revenge or something like that, but obviously…”

“Stop blathering, Fletcher,” said Draco, wand still raised. Mundungus visibly flinched as Draco addressed him. “Mundungus, we need to ask you a couple of questions regarding an item you stole from me,” said Harry, ignoring the blatant discomfort. “I didn’t steal nothing! Tell your death eater friend to lower his wand, and we can clear this up in a civilised manner like.”

“I’m not a death eater,” said Draco through gritted teeth, placing his wand on the table. Mundungus laughed. “You got the mark, ain’t you?”

“Yeah, well, I was a death eater.”

“You can’t stop being a death eater, son. It’s not like being in a band; you can’t just leave whenever you want to. Once you got the mark, there’s no backing out.”

Draco was about to argue otherwise before Harry intervened. “Enough, both of you! Mundungus, sit down. You’re going to answer a couple of questions.”

A long while later, Mundungus was let go, and he apparated immediately. “So now that toxic bitch Umbridge has a horcrux dangling round her neck!” Harry kicked out at the table leg in frustration, then howled as his toes bent out of shape. Draco pointed his wand at them and fixed them, leading Harry away from any sharp corners and into the living room. “We’ve got to get it from her. I don’t care if it leaves her lying stiff in a morgue, I need that horcrux!”

Draco stepped away from Harry, a little afraid of the raw hatred distorting his boyfriend’s features. “Harry, you’re scaring me. This isn’t you, all this talk of killing and violence. You need to calm down, and then we can think logically about this.” He walked out of the room, putting himself out of harm’s way before Harry could throw hex him.

Harry watched Draco leave the room, anger radiating off him in pulses. He was furious that Mundungus had broken into Sirius’ house, his house and taken something that was clearly of importance. And then of all people to give it to, why Umbridge?! Harry had hoped that he’d never have to even hear her name again after he left Hogwarts, but evidently she was flourishing inside this new ministry. Of course she was, she shared all of Voldemort’s skewed beliefs. Why couldn’t Draco see how evil this creature really was? He’d never had to sit in detention with her special quill that didn’t need any ink, he’d never had her threaten him with the Cruciatus curse, and he’d never…

It didn’t matter, Harry realised, what Draco had and hadn’t been through. What mattered was that he was right. Killing wasn’t really Harry’s style, and even if it was, killing Umbridge really wasn’t a good idea. The one thing this didn’t need was more bloodshed.

He took a few deep breaths, and heard Hermione’s voice in his head. You need to apologise, Harry. It’ll never work between the two of you if you refuse to cooperate.

Harry went searching for Draco, and it wasn’t long before he found him in their shared room, reading through a sheet of parchment. “Draco, I’m sorry. I didn’t really mean all that stuff about killing Umbridge.”

“I knew you didn’t,” smiled Draco. “You’ve met He Who Must Not Named multiple times, and never cast a killing curse. Now, while you were having your bitch fest, I’ve been thinking about the ministry. My father told me that they’ve really tightened up on security now. There are no visitors anymore, and there’s one way in. No apparition, nothing. If you’re not someone who should be there, you can’t get in.”

“So, obviously, we’re going to need to be people who should be there.” Harry grinned. “Looks like we’re going to need some Polyjuice potion.”

“But that stuff takes forever to brew, and we don’t have that luxury. We need a plan B.” Struck with sudden inspiration, Harry got up and ran out the room. “Kreacher! I need you!” Kreacher came sprinting round the corner and nearly collided with Harry. “Sorry master! What is it master requires?”

“No need to apologise, Kreacher,” puffed Harry. “Just tell me; didn’t Sirius have a supply of potions somewhere in the house?”

“Yes, master,” said Kreacher. “Master Sirius was always brewing potions; he said he had nothing better to do while he was stuck here under Alistair Moody’s orders.” Harry nodded. “Could you show me his supply? Draco and I need some Polyjuice potion.” Kreacher nodded, and hurried off back in the direction he came from, motioning for Harry to follow him. Harry ran after the little house elf, and found himself in the kitchen, where Kreacher muttered something under his breath in order to open a door which Harry had incorrectly presumed to be the pantry. The door swung open, revealing shelves of neat little vials, containing all sorts of potions of varying colours and viscosity, each hand labelled in Sirius’ slapdash scrawl. Harry could imagine Sirius whiling away his afternoons, brewing potion after potion. If only he was around to know that all his hard work hadn’t been in vain. Harry found a large supply of Polyjuice potion tucked neatly in the corner. Evidently, Sirius had decided that it was one of the more important potions to be brewing, and Harry thanked him for it.

He decided to take all of the vials of Polyjuice up to Draco, and thanking Kreacher, headed back upstairs to where Draco was patiently waiting.

“Here,” said Harry, spilling the vials onto the bed. “I don’t think we’ll be running out of it any time soon.” Draco grinned. “I don’t even want to know where you got all of this from. Anyway, we need to carefully select who we’re going to be. Ideally, we need access to all areas of the ministry, or at least, Umbridge’s office. We need to have contact with Umbridge, so it’s no good being someone that works in a totally different department.”

“You could be your father,” suggested Harry. Draco immediately began to protest, but Harry stopped him. “Think about it. You know exactly how he acts, exactly how he speaks, and his opinions. He’s also probably not doing too badly for himself down at the new ministry, and he probably drops in on Umbridge every other day for a friendly chat.”

Draco still wasn’t sure. “Harry, how are we going to get him alone? I doubt he travels anywhere by himself, and going back to Malfoy Manor now would be suicide.”

“It’ll be fine,” said Harry. “We’ll go out tomorrow, and gather data. It’s all going to be okay,” he said soothingly. He slipped his hand into Draco’s. “This will work, I promise you.”

Chapter Text

Lucius Malfoy tugged on his sleeve. “Stop doing that,” hissed Runcorn. “You’ll give us away.”

“I’m sorry,” whispered Lucius, still not used to his voice, “but I really don’t feel right about this.” The pair fell silent as Arthur Weasley stepped into the elevator, giving them both a curt nod before turning away to face the doors. Runcorn and Lucius stayed silent until he’d gotten off the elevator. “Harry, I really don’t like this. Please, let’s just go home, and we can think of another way.”

“No way,” hissed Runcorn. “It took far too much trouble to get here, we’re not turning back now.” Harry stopped talking as the source of their troubles entered the elevator, along with another woman Harry didn’t know. “Good morning, Lucius. Come to watch the trials?” Dolores Umbridge giggled as she stepped into the elevator. “Albert, aren’t you getting out?” asked the other woman. Harry gave them both a brief nod before stepping out the elevator. He watched as Draco went down with the two women to the court room. He had a feeling Draco wasn’t going to be happy when they got home, but never mind. At least Harry knew Umbridge wasn’t going to come bursting into her office just as he was snooping round. He hid under the invisibility cloak, and started hunting.

There were so many offices, and Harry had no idea where Umbridge’s would be. At the moment, he was round near magical maintenance. He doubted a high ranking official like Umbridge would have an office near to the care takers, so he kept walking until he reached a corridor where the doors were spread farther apart, and the golden plaques had heads of department’s names written on them. He couldn’t find Umbridge’s office, and he’d reached the end of the corridor. He slipped quietly through the door he’ reached, and he saw row upon row of people all making what seemed to be booklets. Upon further inspection, they were titled ‘Muggleborns and the dangers they pose to our society’. Harry felt his anger bubbling up again, but repressed it as best he could. At the front of the room was a door with an eye on it. With a sickening jolt, Harry realised that it was, in fact, Mad Eye’s fake eye. That’s just sick on so many levels. How dare she take what isn’t hers? What gives that bitch the right to rob a dead man of what little he has?

Calm down, Harry, he told himself. You need to create a diversion so you can get into that room without being noticed.

Harry reached into his pocket, and as he made his way across the room sprinkled Peruvian Instant Darkness powder as he went. In the chaos he created, he got into Umbridge’s office undetected.

It was positively vile in there, exactly the same as her Hogwarts office. Harry supressed unpleasant memories as he searched the office top to bottom for a locket like the one he and Dumbledore had found. He rifled through drawers, scoured the filing cabinets, and even checked behind furniture for cracks in the wall where she could have place a necklace. Nothing.

Harry checked through the eye and saw that the people outside were still dealing with the chaos he’d created with the Peruvian Darkness Powder, allowing him to leave Umbridge’s office without being seen, just as he’d entered. He supposed the best place to continue the search would be Umbridge herself, so he headed down to the courtrooms.

As soon as he set foot out of the elevator, he felt a cold chill come over him, signifying the presence of dementors. He wanted to cast a patronus, but his stag was too recognisable. He ground his teeth together as he rounded the corner, and saw a group of shaking people. Some of them were crying, and the dementors watched over them, sucking any possible joy out of the witches and wizards below. Muggleborns, thought Harry. They must be here for interrogation.

He pushed his way through them, quietly making his way into the courtroom, still under the protection of the invisibility cloak. He saw Umbridge sat at the top of the room, with the witch who’d ridden in the elevator with her on her left, making notes, and Lucius sat on her right. Harry made his way noiselessly across the room, and as soon as he approached Umbridge’s seat, the chill of the dementors faded, and a silvery cat wandered across the front of the desk lazily. Harry blew across the back of Lucius’ neck to let Draco know he was there. He seemed to get the message as he stuck his hand out behind him, reaching to feel if Harry was there. When his hand hit something solid, Lucius nodded, as if agreeing with what Umbridge was saying. Harry took a good look at the back of Umbridge’s neck, and sure enough, partially obscured by her collar, was a silver chain. He breathed into Lucius’ ear. “We need to find a way to get that locket off her.” Lucius nodded. “But how?” he asked.

“What was that, Lucius?” asked Umbridge, interrupting the poor witch who was pleading her case. “I said, um, and how? Meaning how can muggleborns benefit a society of pure blooded wizards?”

“Quite,” said Umbridge, smirking down at the witch who had gone a nasty shade of white- green. Harry couldn’t stand to stand here any longer. He burst out from underneath his invisibility cloak, and yelled “STUPEFY!” Umbridge slumped forwards, and all hell broke loose.

*****

Harry came to, blinking as dappled sunlight fell across his face. He sat up in a crunching of leaves, taking in his surroundings. Draco was stood, putting up the tent. His eyes seemed red and puffy, and he looked like Draco again. They were in a forest, and for a moment Harry thought they were in the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts. “Draco?”

“Harry? Oh God, I thought I’d lost you!” He ran over and hugged Harry, knocking them both over into the leaves. “What happened?” Draco bit his lip. “You’re not going to be happy,” he said.

“After you stunned Umbridge, which was, by the way, a really fucking stupid thing to do, we had to get out. The dementors were out of control, and we had to run. Yaxley hit you with a hex, and you collapsed…” he started shaking again, and Harry hugged him again. “It was awful. You looked like you were having a fit, it was terrible… Anyway  I had to drag you to the fireplace to get you out, but Yaxley had hold of you, and he wouldn’t let go. I had to hex his hand, and I managed to get away. I apparated outside of Grimmauld Place, but there were death eaters outside. I got you inside, and Kreacher started healing you, and I put up enchantments. They weren’t enough to keep them out though, it was just enough time to pack a bag. After that, I had to bring you here through Side-Along apparition. I'm so sorry, Harry.”

Draco started crying properly again, and Harry noticed as he winced when he put his arms around the crying boy. “What’s this?” asked Harry, gently pushing the fabric of Draco’s jumper aside to reveal a big red mark, smudges of purple just starting to appear. Draco flushed. “Well, while you were jinxed, you kicked out a lot, and I had to had you down so Kreacher could do his thing.”

“Oh my god,” breathed Harry. “I did that?” Draco nodded. “I’m so sorry, Draco, I really didn’t mean to…”

“It’s alright, you were jinxed, and you had no idea. For now, just help me set up this tent.” Harry got to his feet, and the rest of the day was spent putting up the tent and filling it up with their things.

As dark fell, Draco went about cooking some of the food he’d packed in a hurry while still at Grimmauld Place. He’d pretty much cleared the cupboard out, and the food was being preserved with various preservation charms. The aroma from the food was making Harry’s stomach churn, and he staggered outside of the tent, and vomited violently again and again. He emptied the contents of his stomach and more, until he was just throwing up yellow bile. Draco followed him outside and knelt with him in the dirt, stroking his hair like his mother always did when he was sick. “Kreacher said this might happen. He also said it was best that you get everything out of your system. It was a nasty curse that Yaxley hit you with.”

All that evening, Harry was unable to eat anything without throwing it back up immediately. Draco was getting worried, but his healing knowledge was limited, so he was too afraid to do anything more than place a wet rag across Harry’s forehead in the hope it might even out the temperature. Draco was up and down all night, stroking Harry’s hair through the sickness and holding his hand through the nightmares. By morning, he was absolutely wrecked. He didn’t realise he’d fallen asleep until a hand ran its way through his hair. Harry was sat above him on his bed, smiling down at him. “Harry! How are you doing?” asked Draco, trying to get rid of the crick in his neck. “I’m fine. I don’t feel much like getting out of bed though.” Draco shrugged. “That’s fine. However, we need to talk about this necklace that we have.”

Harry jerked, searching around him for it. “Where is it?”

“Relax! It’s hidden in a very secure place. I didn’t want to wear it, because it’s covered with dark magic, and it might try and defend itself.” Harry nodded. “So, how do you destroy a horcrux?”

They talked for at least an hour before Harry remembered the diary. “Basilisk fang!” he cried. “The basilisk fang was coated in venom, and that destroyed Tom Riddle’s diary!”

“Um, Harry?” said Draco. “One problem with that. Where are we going to get a basilisk fang from in the middle of a forest?” Harry slumped back on his pillows. “I don’t know. But maybe…”

He started rummaging through the bag next to his bed, searching for something. “What are you looking for?” asked Draco.

“What if it wasn’t the actual fang that destroyed the diary? What if the venom is all we need? Think about it. Hopefully, a basilisk won’t turn up, but maybe, just maybe, Sirius had some venom in his potions! Then all we’d need is something sharp to put it on, then we could open the locket and destroy it!”

“Harry, that’s… that’s brilliant!” said Draco. “But… what do we have that’s sharp enough to pierce a metal locket? I mean, a pointy stick isn’t exactly going to do the trick.” Harry was beside himself, glad to have a breakthrough. “It doesn’t matter, we’ll find something. The point is, we have a horcrux, and we know how to destroy it!”

Chapter Text

There’s a girl. She’s sat in an armchair, facing a group of people. There’s something about her that look oddly familiar, but he can’t put his finger on it. He can’t dwell on it for too long though, because she’s starting to speak.

“They’ve found him,” she says. “They know his location.” A murmur of dissent ripples through the group of people before her, people that he knows now are death eaters. “Why, then,” asks one of the women in the group, “is he not sat before us in that chair instead of you?”

“That’s what I came to tell you about,” growls the girl. “They know there are spies. They don’t know who, but they know they’ve been infiltrated.”

“How?” hisses one of the men. He has long blonde hair, and a look in his eyes that suggests he hasn’t slept for days. “How can they know?”

“Because he isn’t travelling alone,” says the girl, staring accusingly at the man. “Draco is keeping him company.”

Worried murmurs start up, along with yells of “traitor!” aimed at the long haired man and the woman now clinging onto his arm, pale faced. “And,” shouts the girl, raising her voice to be heard over the noise, “he’s telling him your secrets! He’s the one that informed Harry of the spies in the Order, and now Remus Lupin knows!”

“Should have killed him while I had the chance at the ministry,” ponders the first woman who spoke. “But Bellatrix, you didn’t, and now we are paying for your mistakes.” A new voice cuts through the room like a knife, cold and smooth. Everyone in the room flinches, and the long haired man and his wife stare at the floor. “Yes, you may well stare at your feet, Lucius, but they cannot right your wrongs.” The crowd laughs, and Lucius looks like he wants to fall through the floor. The girl starts laughing, and immediately the cool voice starts to speak again. “You dare laugh? I hope you have not forgotten who you are.”

The girl looks sheepishly at the floor as she opens her mouth to speak. “Harry!”

“Harry!”

This time, it wasn’t a girl’s voice calling him, it was Draco, waking him up. “Harry! Wake up!” There was water falling on Harry’s face, and he reached for his glasses, turning a blurry mass that vaguely resembled his boyfriend into a soaked Draco.

“Is it my turn to stand watch?” asked Harry, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “No, you have to come outside, now!” Harry allowed himself to be dragged outside, presuming he’d be allowed back in after a few seconds. “Alright, this had better be good,” he yawned.

A silvery doe stood in front of them, waiting. “A patronus,” said Harry, confused. “Where has it come from?” Draco shrugged. Harry reached out to touch it, and it moved away. “I think it wants us to follow it,” said Harry, pulling on a pair of shoes that once he had them on, he realised weren’t his. “How stupid are you?” asked Draco, pulling Harry back as he went to follow it. “That could be anyone’s patronus! You could have Fenrir Greyback waiting for you right behind that bush!”

Harry simply pulled his wand, and gave Draco a cheeky kiss on the cheek. “Don’t worry; I’ll be back.” He set off after the doe, and after a moment’s pause, Draco followed him. “Oh no you don’t, Harry Potter. I’m coming with you, to make sure you don’t do anything stupid.”

They followed the doe to a small frozen over pond, where it stopped and promptly disappeared. “Great. Now what?” asked Draco, teeth chattering from cold. Harry stepped onto the thick ice covering the pond and stared in. There! “Look, there’s something at the bottom of the pond!”

“Lumos,” said Draco, the light from his wand catching the object just right so Harry could make out the words written on it. “It’s the sword! The sword of Godric Gryffindor!”

“What’s it doing at the bottom of a pond?” asked Draco, clearly not impressed. “It’s not always been there, stupid! The sword of Godric Gryffindor presents itself to any worthy Gryffindor in a time of need! It came to me in the Chamber of Secrets, and it’s been sat in Dumbledore’s office ever since…” said Harry trailing off. “What’s wrong?” asked Draco. “It’s goblin-made,” said Harry, mind whirring at  mile a minute. “It has extra magical properties, and I remember reading somewhere that the sword takes in that which makes it stronger, and it put it through the mouth of a basilisk, so it got coated in venom, so it took that in…” Harry stared at Draco, eyes shining. “We can use it to destroy horcruxes!”

“Brilliant!” cried Draco. “In you go!” Harry gave him a dirty look. “You think I’m going in there?”

“It’s the sword of Godric Gryffindor. It’s presented itself to you, so you can go and get it.”

“Typical Slytherin,” muttered Harry under his breath as he started stripping off. “Keep these dry,” he told Draco, handing him everything but his pants, which he kept on for decency’s sake. He pointed his wand at the ice, and a small hole appeared. Harry cursed as he dipped himself in. “Holy mother of fuck that’s fucking freezing!” Draco giggled as Harry slowly sank under the water, disappearing from view.

He began to get concerned as Harry didn’t resurface, and he stuck his face over the hole in the ice. “Harry?”

A splash of icy cold water in his face sent his staggering backwards, spluttering. Harry pulled himself out of the ice, laughing but blue with cold. Draco sent a wave of hot air over his shaking boyfriend before throwing over his clothes. “I was genuinely concerned for the welfare of my boyfriend and what do I get? Cold water in my face.”

Harry froze in his tracks. “Harry, what’s the matter? Did you just drop the sword back in the lake?”

“That’s the first time you said it,” said Harry. “That’s the first time you’ve called me your boyfriend.” Draco went very quiet. “Is… is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all,” grinned Harry, suddenly running over to hug Draco, who froze up. “Harry, you need to put some clothes on.”

“Why?” asked Harry, letting go so he could strike a pose. “Do you find this… distracting?” he burst out laughing at his own hilarity, and Draco threw his top at him. “Not as distracting as you’ll find pneumonia. Put it on.”

“Yes Aunt Petunia,” said Harry, upwards twitching at the corners of his mouth betraying his otherwise straight face. Draco rolled his eyes. “Come on, and don’t forget to pick up that sword.”

“Why can’t you pick it up?”

“Because I told you to do it, and- for god’s sakes, Harry, just put the shirt on and keep it on!”

They arrived back outside their tent, where Draco went inside to retrieve the locket. They agreed to open it outside to minimise damage inside the tent. Draco held it down on top of a tree stump, while Harry brandished the sword, ready to strike. “I swear, if you miss and cut my fingers off…”

Draco never got to finish his threat because Harry hissed something in Parseltongue, and the locket flew open, sending both of them flying backwards. Draco was the first to reach the locket, pinning it back down. On the other side, he heard voices coming out of the cloud of what looked like smoke gushing out of the open locket.

“Wee little Potter; no mother, no father… no family to protect him… friends gone… left in the company of your worst enemy… he doesn’t love you… how could he? He never has, and never will…”

Draco could only assume the voce were talking about him as he yelled at Harry. “Harry! Just destroy it! It’s lying!”

“He calls out to you now… but you know, deep in your heart, he doesn’t want you… it’s all a hoax… a plan… he’ll betray you in the end…”

With a flash of silver, Harry plunged the sword into the heart of the locket, causing it to scream out. Draco fell back and covered his ears, shutting out the terrible noise. He only ever heard screams like that in his nightmares…

“Draco? It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’m here, it’s gone. It’s over Draco.” Harry pulled him close into a tight hug, and they sat there together, watching as the snow started to fall.

Chapter Text

Weeks passed, and Harry and Draco were no closer to finding the next horcrux than they were to turning into unicorns. Patience was wearing thin in both boys, and there was a tension in the air that they both felt. They were tired, dirty and hadn’t had a proper meal in what felt like forever. They constantly fought, and Harry was sick of it.

They were having an argument one day when Draco hit below the belt. “You think you’re so great, but you can’t even find one stupid horcrux! How are you going to end him?”

Harry laughed cruelly. “Him? Ha! You can’t even say his name!”

“No, because-”

“Just say it! Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort!”

“Harry, NO!” Draco shouted, just as Harry realised his mistake, clasping his hands over his mouth. Draco knew that the snatchers would be there any second, and grabbed his wand. “Harry, look at me,” he instructed. “Draco, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

“No time!” insisted Draco. He dragged his wand tip across Harry’s face, then his own before casting a charm. “Now, the snatchers are coming and…”

“Come out! We know you’re in their!” called Stan Shunpike’s voice. Harry grabbed Draco’s hand. “I’m so sorry,” he said again. Draco gave his hand a quick squeeze then let go. “It’ going to be alright. Lie as if you’re telling the truth.”

Harry nodded as they stepped out of their protective bubble. “Well, well, well,” said Stan. “What, or rather, who is it that we are having here?”

“Dudley,” said Harry. “Dudley Vernon.”

“Est-ce que vous parlez français ?” said Draco, withoutthinking. Stan stared at him. “What was that, Froggie?” Draco decided to go with what he’d started. “Est-ceque vous parlezfrançais?” he repeated. Stan stared at him again before turning his attention to Harry. “What’s wrong with Frog’s Legs over there? He had a jinx put on him?”

“No, he’s French,” said Harry. “His name is Alain LeBlanc, and he doesn’t speak a word of English.” Stan shrugged. “Whatever. In any case, there ain’t no Dudley Vernon on any list. What’s your blood status?”

“Pure blood,” said Harry. Stan tilted his head. “You ain’t who you say you are. In fact,” he said, walking up into Harry’s face. “You look an awful  lot like Harry Potter…” Harry shook his head, and every curse Draco had ever said or heard ran through his head in a stream that would probably make his mother cry.

Stan stepped away. “I know where I’m taking you,” he said. “Come on! Of to Malfoy Manor we go!”

Shit.

They arrived at Malfoy Manor, and Harry was shaking. Draco placed a soothing hand on Harry’s, and gave him a reassuring glance. The gates swung open and they were transported inside by the snatchers.

Harry knew he couldn’t give up. There was too much riding on him succeeding, and he had to get out. Failure was not an option. His mind began formulating a plan to get out while they were marched through the corridors towards a room with big wooden doors. Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange stood by the fire, only looking up as Stan practically pushed Harry and Draco onto the floor.

“These two were captured in the woods. The taller one don’t speak no English, and the other says he’s a Dudley Vernon, but he’s not on the list. Says he’s pure blood, too.”

“I am!” protested Harry. “I’m a pure blood, and I was in Slytherin at Hogwarts.” Bellatrix laughed. “Nice try, Dudley, but everyone says that. Most of them don’t even know where the common room is!”

“It’s under the lake!” said Harry, thinking desperately back to his visit to the Slytherin common room in second year. “It’s near the dungeons too, and it’s dark in there, because the lake’s over the top.”

Narcissa nodded, but Bellatrix simply shrugged. “So, you know where the common room is. That doesn’t mean you were actually in Slytherin.”

“I am!” shouted Harry. “I mean, I was. I left school last year, and me and my friend were travelling, and…”

“What’s your friend’s name?” asked Narcissa, speaking for the first time. “Alain LeBlanc,” replied Harry. Draco jerked his head, knowing he was being referred to. “Doesn’t speak English, huh? Where’s he from?” asked Bellatrix. “France, obviously,” replied Harry.

“He don’t look French,” put in Stan, smirking in his corner. The two sisters whipped round and glared at him. “Shush!” hissed Bellatrix. “Although, he is right… You don’t look like you’re French, and you,” she said turning on Harry, “Look an awful lot like one Harry Potter.”

Harry’s heart stopped. “No, I’m not Harry Potter.” Bellatrix smiled, a nasty grin that contorted her features, and she threw back her head and laughed. “Wormtail!” she screeched suddenly. A small man came scurrying into the room, looking frightened to death. Harry almost felt pity for him, before he remembered who he was and what he had done. “Wormtail, take the other one down to the dungeon,” said Bellatrix, pointing at Draco. “Dudley and I are going to have a little chat.” She smiled again, and Harry’s insides tied themselves in knots.

He gave what he hoped was a reassuring nod at Draco as Wormtail lead him down a flight of stairs. With a flick of her wand, Bellatrix sent Harry flying against the wall and trapped him there. “Did you search him?” she asked Stan. “I took his wand off him, and his bag.”

“Did you search the bag?” demanded Bellatrix impatiently. Stan shook his head, and Bellatrix screamed in frustration. “IDIOT! He could have anything in there! Sissy, keep Potter still while I search his bag.” Narcissa flicked her wand, and Bellatrix snatched Harry’s bag from Stan. She threw potion after potion out onto the floor, and her hand hit something sharp. “Ouch!” she shrieked, pulling her hand from the bag, and using her wand to heal her injured palm, put her other into the bag to retrieve what had cut her. She pulled out the sword of Gryffindor.

Bellatrix stared at the sword before shrieking and throwing it across the floor as if it were hot. “Bella!” chided Narcissa. Bellatrix ignored her. She took three steps across the room, striding up to Harry with rage radiating out of her in white hot waves. “Where did you get that sword!” she screamed. Harry said nothing, pressing against the wall he was being held on. “Sissy, let him go,” instructed Bellatrix. Narcissa lowered her wand, and Harry fell to the floor. Bellatrix pounced on him, pinning his arms to the floor. “I said, where did you get that sword?” she spat into Harry’s face.

“It appeared to me,” said Harry. Bellatrix saw her opportunity and wasted no time in taking it. “HA! You said you were in Slytherin! The sword supposedly appears to Gryffindors!”

“I lied,” said Harry, squirming uncomfortably under her weight. Bellatrix grabbed his hand. “Oh my,” she said, grinning sadistically. “I see someone else has already tried to teach you it’s naughty to tell lies,” she said, examining Harry’s hand that was permanently engraved with the words: I must not tell lies.

“Dolores Umbridge,” gasped Harry, as Bellatrix dug her knees into his chest, shifting her weight. “You know, I’m never sure whether I like her or not,” she debated. Shrugging, she placed the tip of her wand onto Harry’s forearm. “Bella, no!” cried Narcissa. “What if he is Potter? What will you tell the Dark Lord when he’s broken and bruised?”

“I’ll tell him Stan did it,” said Bellatrix. “Hey!” protested Stan. “If he is the Potter boy, I’ll be wanting a reward, not the killin’ curse!”

Bellatrix flicked her wand, rendering Stan unable to speak. “Where was I?” she wondered aloud. “Oh, yes, that’s right!” she turned her attention back to Harry. “Anyway, I know you’re still lying, because that sword,” she said pointing at Gryffindor’s sword, “is supposed to be in my bank vault at Gringotts! What else have you taken?” she spat furiously. “I haven’t been to Gringotts!” protested Harry, yelling in pain as Bellatrix drew her wand down his forearm, carving out a letter. “I’ll ask one more time. What else did you take?” she screeched.

“Nothing!” sobbed Harry, tears flowing down his face, arm practically on fire with pain. “I haven’t been to Gringotts! The sword’s a fake!”

“Wormtail!” screeched Bellatrix. “Get the goblin!” She grinned at Harry, who flinched away. “We’ll soon see if he’s telling the truth.”

As Wormtail scuttled off, Bellatrix turned her attention back to Harry. “In the meantime, let’s teach you a proper lesson for lying to me.”

Harry lasted a total of three minutes before the pain turned his world black.

Chapter Text

Whilst Harry was upstairs being questioned, Draco was down in a dark dungeon losing his mind. “It’s all my fault,” he whispered to himself. “I made him angry, and he lost control. It’s my fault we’re in here.”

“Hello?” called another voice. Draco jumped, instinctively reaching for his wand, only to find that, of course, it had been taken from him. “Who’s there?” he called out. “Malfoy?” replied the voice. “That’s odd; being held prisoner it what I presume to be your own house.”

“I said, who’s there?” called out Draco with more force. “Luna Lovegood,” called back the voice. “Brilliant,” muttered Draco, sinking onto the floor. Of all the people to get locked up with, it had to be her…

“Why are you being held prisoner in your own house, Draco?” asked Luna’s voice. “None of your business,” replied Draco. “Is that Harry up there?” asked Luna. “Yes, that’s Harry.”

“What’s he doing here?”

“Having afternoon tea with the death eaters, what do you think?” snapped Draco sarcastically. “You know, you’ve never been very nice to me,” Luna’s voice floated through the darkness. “It’s true, he never has been.”

“I’m not really surprised,” came a new voice. “He always struck me as the pompous brat type, just like his father.”

“How many people are down here?” cut in Draco, sick of hearing himself being talked about as if he weren’t there. “Well, there’s me, Mr Ollivander and Griphook.”

“Griphook? Who the hell is Griphook?” asked Draco. “I’m a goblin, Mr Malfoy. I work at Gringotts, or rather, I did, before I was captured.” Draco jumped as he heard screaming through the ceiling.

“Oh, no,” said Luna. “Poor Harry.”

“We need to get him out of there,” decided Draco. “Everybody, try and find each other so we can come up with a plan.”

“Why do you care?” asked someone who Draco presumed to be Griphook. “It’s no secret that you and your family are fighting the other side of this war.”

“Not me,” argued Draco. “Not anymore. I’m with Harry, and right now, we need to do something to help him.” He started walking in the direction of the other voices. After tripping over his own feet, he searched through his pocket to find something that could possibly shed a little light. His hand came into contact with something cold and smooth. He pulled it out, and held out Harry’s mirror.

He’d forgotten about that. He’d seen Harry staring into it one night in Grimmauld Place, and he’d jokingly teased him about being so vain. Harry had told him about it, or what he knew anyway, and he’d shown Draco the man in the mirror. Kreacher had knocked on the door, and they’d gone down to dinner. Then, when Draco and Harry returned to Grimmauld Place after their eventful visit to the ministry, Draco had seen it lying on the dresser and had quickly shoved it in his pocket, thinking Harry would probably be upset if he didn’t.

He stared into it now, seeing the reflection of the greying old man. “Help us,” he whispered to him. The man nodded, and he disappeared. Draco tripped over his own feet again, except this time he brought someone else down with him. “Sorry,” he said hurriedly. “It’s alright,” said Luna breezily. Draco stood himself up, and started talking. “Are we all in the same place?”

There was a general murmur of assent, and Draco was about to start forming his plan when there was a snap, and another voice sounded from the darkness. “Hello?”

“Dobby?” it was odd hearing the voice of his old house servant’s voice again. “Is that you?”

“Mister Malfoy!” there was another snap, and the lamps in the room lit, revealing the scared and slightly dirty people inside, and the house elf that had come to save them. “Dobby! Listen, Harry’s upstairs, and-”

“Mister Potter is in trouble?” asked Dobby, already wide eyes widening a little more. “Yes,” said Draco impatiently. “We need to do something about it!”

“What about these other people?” asked Dobby. “I don’t care!” yelled Draco as another sob came from upstairs. “Take them to an Order safe house, do whatever you want, just do it quickly and come back for me and Harry!” Dobby nodded. He held his arm out to Griphook, Luna and Ollivander before turning back to Draco. “Meet me at the top of the stairs,” he said before disappearing with a snap. Draco searched round for a way to get out of the room.

The sound of feet coming down the stairs sent him running behind a pillar. Wormtail swung open the door, and called out for Griphook. “Goblin? Goblin! Where are you?” Draco picked up a wooden beam and waited until the timing was just right…

SMACK! Wormtail fell unconscious onto the stone floor, and Draco ran to the top of the stairs. Dobby appeared quickly afterwards, and together they ran into the room where Harry had fallen suspiciously silent.

“What’s taking Wormtail so long?” asked Narcissa, looking over her shoulder and stopping dead. “STOP!” she screamed at Dobby and Draco, wand drawn.

Bellatrix scrambled to her feet. “Where’s Wormtail?” she asked. “Unconscious on the cellar floor,” replied Draco.

“Draco?”

“That’s right! And I’d really appreciate it if you’d leave him alone.” Bellatrix howled with laughter. “Well isn’t this funny? Look who’s back, and he’s grown a backbone! What’s wrong, Draco? Nothing to say to Auntie Bella?”

Draco stayed silent, bravado fading as Bellatrix laughed. His mother simply stood silently, a single tear rolling down her face. “That’s right, Sissy, cry. Little Draco’s a traitor now!”

“Draco,” pleaded Narcissa. “Please, just come back. The Dark Lord will be merciful…”

“No, he won’t!” cried Draco. “We all know he won’t! He left Father to rot in Azkaban, and he’s already angry because I couldn’t kill Dumbledore! He doesn’t know how to be merciful; he doesn’t know the value of compassion.”

Bellatrix giggled again. “What, and you’ve been on a journey of self-discovery while you’ve been gone? Let me guess, Potter’s taught you how to be kind and loving even towards mudbloods, and muggles, and all the scum? I bet you and Potter have been making daisy chains together!” she giggled maniacally at her own hilarity. Draco kept his mouth shut, knowing better than to reveal their true purpose.

Harry chose that moment to come to with a groan. Bellatrix grinned and turned back to him, wielding her wand like a sword. A small cough came from the ceiling, stopping her in her tracks. Dobby sat on top of the chandelier brandishing a small knife, which he dragged through the chains holding up the chandelier, sending it crashing down, narrowly missing Bellatrix.

“You stupid elf! You could have killed me!” screeched Bellatrix. “Dobby never meant to kill,” protested the house elf. “Simply maim!” he grabbed Draco’s wrist and dragged him over to Harry.

With a snap of the house elf’s fingers, Draco’s world went black, but not before he noticed Bellatrix picking up Dobby’s knife and throwing as hard as she could. The last thing Draco saw before he was pulled into the crushing blackness was his Aunt Bella’s eyes, glowing with malice.

Chapter Text

Harry fell onto a sandy beach in so much pain he could barely see. He became acutely aware of someone next to him, and a little whimper that forced him to sit up. Dobby stood before him, clutching at a gaping wound in his stomach. “Harry Potter?” he whispered. “Dobby!” yelled Harry as the elf sank to his knees on the sand. Harry ran over, and as soon as he saw the size and depth of the cut, he knew. He knew that this poor creature wasn’t going to make it. Dobby was clutching something in his hand that he held out to Harry. “Wands,” he coughed out in a fake voice. “Thank you,” whispered Harry.

It broke Harry’s heart to stay and hold his friend’s hand as the light faded from his eyes. When Dobby’s body finally went limp in his arms, he allowed himself to break down. Draco’s arm wound its way around Harry’s shoulders, and Harry turned into it, sobbing.

At last, he pulled himself together enough to ask an important question. “Where are we?” he asked. “I was hoping you might be able to answer that. I think we might be at an Order safe house.” Harry looked around him, and saw a cottage stood a short way off. “That’s Shell Cottage,” he said. “Bill and Fleur.”

“Bill? As in Bill Weasley?” asked Draco. “Yeah,” replied Harry. “And Fleur Delacour, who was in the Tri Wizard tournament with me. I saved her sister.”

“Bill Weasley was bitten by Fenrir Greyback,” said Draco quietly. “We can’t be sure of his loyalties, to one side or another. Werewolves are temperamental at best, but if He Who Must Not Be Named has gotten to him…” he trailed off. “We have to be careful.” Harry nodded his assent, and they head up to the cheerful little building on the Cliffside.

Bill sat drumming his fingers on the kitchen table. Dobby had arrived with two wizards and a goblin earlier, and had promised that Harry and Draco Malfoy were on their way. That was two hours ago. There had been no sign of Harry or Malfoy, and bill was starting to worry. Dobby had said they were being held at Malfoy Manor, and anything could have happened to them there.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a knock at the door. A peep through the curtains told him that Harry had arrived, although there was something wrong. Bill opened the door carefully, letting Harry and Draco inside, and showed them to the kitchen table.

“What’s wrong?” he asked immediately, not wasting time with pleasantries. “Dobby’s dead,” said Harry quietly. “He died saving me.” Bill nodded as a sign of sympathy. “And what about you? How’s Harry doing?” Harry shook his head, not wanting to talk any more.

A welcome distraction in the form of Fleur came running in. “Harry! We’ve been worried sick!” she kissed him on both cheeks. “Ron and Hermione are in the garden; I will go and fetch them.”

“Wait, Fleur,” Harry stopped her. “Don’t. I won’t be staying long. I just need to have a chat with Griphook.” Draco looked confused, but Harry shot him a look that said later.  Draco simply nodded and Harry returned to the conversation. “Fleur, honey, would you mind showing Draco your amazing baking skills?” Fleur nodded as she understood the meaning behind Bill’s seemingly innocent question- get Draco out of the way, I want to talk to Harry about him. Draco reluctantly followed her from the room as she babbled on about special little cakes she and her sister used to make back in France.

Harry watched them go. Bill wasted no time, and as soon as the door was shut, he started on Harry. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked again. “You’re so pale, and you look as if you’ve lost a fair amount of weight.”

Harry shrugged. “I’ve been camping. It’s not the best way of sleeping, and as for my cooking skills…” he trailed off. “Let me get a proper look at you,” said Bill in  tone that reminded Harry remarkably of Mrs Weasley. Harry stood, sighing, but otherwise letting Bill see Bellatrix’s masterpiece.

FUCK THE ORDER

“No doubt Bellatrix’s somewhat immature sense of humour coming into play,” commented Bill dryly. “Please may I speak to Griphook now?” asked Harry. “I am nowhere near done with you, Harry,” said Bill, motioning at the chair Harry was previously sat in. Harry sank down.

“Draco Malfoy, Harry? Really? There are plenty of other guys out there.”

“How did you…?” Harry gaped. “Please, Harry. You two are less subtle than a dark mark.” They both chuckled slightly at Bill’s dark humour. “Seriously, though Harry. Are you sure you’ve thought this through properly? He’s been living in the Dark Lord’s pocket all his life.”

“I’m capable of making my own choices, thanks.”

“What about Ron and Hermione? Have you thought about how hurt they are that you’ve chosen to trust this boy instead of your best friends?”

“If they were truly my friends, they’d understand that I don’t want them to get hurt!” said Harry, jaw set in a firm line. Bill held up his hands. “Look, all I’m saying is that you might want to have a good look at this Malfoy boy, deeper than whatever attracts you to him, and see what you find. You might not like what you discover.” He got up from the kitchen table. “You look like you haven’t eaten a proper meal in weeks. My mother would disown me if I didn’t at least feed you before letting you go.” Harry grinned as he followed Bill through to the little room that housed the oven where Fleur was showing Draco how to make special French cakes.

Chapter Text

The plan had been made. All they had to do now was follow it. Harry and Draco had roped Griphook into helping them rob Gringotts, a feat that had only been done once before. “While I was upstairs with Bellatrix, she seemed furious that we’d been into her Gringotts vault, and she kept asking me what else we’d taken. There must be something in there!”

“Harry, the Lestrange family are one of the wealthiest wizarding families there are! She could have just been worried about her gold.”

“If she’s so rich, she wouldn’t be worrying about a few galleons,” said Harry. Draco gave an exasperated sigh. “Rich people don’t stay rich by letting people rob them!”

“Well, it’s better than nothing,” said Harry. “And we may as well take advantage of our available resources. There’d be nothing worse than discovering later that we do need to visit Gringotts when we’ve not got a goblin close by!”

“And that’s another thing!” argued Draco. “Goblins are not the friendliest of creatures, Harry. How do you know he’ll even agree to help us?”

“Everyone’s got their price,” shrugged Harry. “We’ve just got to find out Griphook’s.”

It turned out that Griphook’s price was the sword of Godric Gryffindor. It seemed to Harry that Griphook considered it rightfully his anyway, as it was goblin-made. “But it was made for Godric Gryffindor,” argued Harry. “But you are not, in fact, Godric Gryffindor, so that sword belongs to the goblins who made it.”

“No, the sword belongs to me. Dumbledore left it to me in his will!” It was true. Bill had told him that Rufus Scringemour himself had appeared at the Burrow on the day of Bill and Fleur’s wedding with Dumbledore’s will. He’d left Harry the first snitch he’d ever caught, which Bill had handed over to him, and the sword of Godric Gryffindor that Harry had used to slay the basilisk in his second year at Hogwarts.

“It was not Albus Dumbledore’s to leave you!” said Griphook angrily. Harry was fully prepared to argue with Griphook, but Draco put his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Harry, I think it’s best you stop arguing with the person we need to help us,” he suggested. “Fine. You can have the sword; just help us to get into the Lestrange vault.”

“And,” said Draco, “If you even think about double crossing, we’ll put it through your heart.” Harry raised his eyebrows at the sheer brutality of the threat, but he didn’t contradict his somewhat frightening boyfriend. Griphook nodded in acknowledgement, and they set about a plan.

Now, as they were walking down Diagon Alley, Harry’s heart was beating faster than ever. Draco, or rather, Bellatrix strode slightly in front of the invisible Harry, who was carrying Griphook on his shoulders under the invisibility cloak. Say what Harry would about Draco, he certainly had no problem imitating other people. He fooled everyone around them, carrying his head high, looking down his nose at everyone.

They entered Gringotts bank, and immediately Harry noticed that something was wrong. “They know,” he breathed to Draco. “They’ve been tipped off.” Draco gave a tiny nod as he strode right up to the main desk. He cleared his throat loudly, waiting impatiently for the elderly goblin to finish writing on his parchment. He looked up at Bellatrix and gave a small smile. “Good morning, Madam Lestrange. What can I do for you?”

“I want to enter my vault,” said Draco in his aunt’s cold, clear voice. “Certainly,” aid the goblin. Harry noticed a security guard wandering in their direction. “We shall need your wand, as proof of your identity, please.”

“My wand?” queried Draco. “And why is this necessary?”

“Well, Gringotts has decided to employ new security measures in light of these… new times. Surely you understand?”

“No, I do not understand,” argued Draco indignantly. The security guard was getting closer, and Harry had run out of options. He lifted his wand, and whispered “Imperio!” He began to panic as nothing happened. He tried again as the real Bellatrix flashed through his mind. “You have to mean it, Potter!”

“Imperio!” the goblin’s face eased, and he gave a breezy smile. “Very well. If you’ll simply follow me, please.” Harry thought about putting the security guard under the imperius curse as they walked past, but instead he settled for holding his breath, not wanting to arouse too much suspicion.

The ride down to the Lestrange vault seemed to take forever. Harry knew that the further down in the bank a vault was, the more it had in it, so he knew Draco hadn’t been lying when he’d said Bellatrix was obscenely rich. They passed through a waterfall, and for a moment Harry was grateful for the cool water on his face, but all of a sudden, the floor of their cart opened up, and the group fell.

“Arresto momento!” yelled Draco, and as they hovered inches above the ground, Harry gasped. “Draco, the potion’s worn off! That was still good for another forty five minutes!”

“That’s because we just passed through the Thieves’ Downfall,” said Griphook, dusting himself off. “It removes all enchantments, and any appearance altering potions will be useless.”

“Oh, and you didn’t think that maybe, we might have needed to know that!” shouted Draco, nursing a cut on his hand. “You didn’t think to tell us that before we almost fell to our deaths?”

“Enough!” shouted Harry. “Who the devil are you?” asked the goblin that had, until recently, been under the imperius curse. “Great, it works on unforgivable curses too!” muttered Draco.

“Unforgivable curses! My word, I’ll have you scoundrels locked up faster than you can say-”

“Imperio!” said Harry. He couldn’t help but feel a little bit proud when it worked first time before realising that was bad. You weren’t supposed to be able to do unforgivable curses first time. “It doesn’t matter,” Harry told Draco. “They’ll know we’re here now. We just need to get to that vault and fast.”

They followed Griphook through what felt like the centre of the Earth, it was so deep underground. A distant rumbling noise grew louder, and they finally walked through an archway to see a huge white dragon stood guarding a line of vaults. Harry flinched, remembering the last encounter he’d had with a dragon. Griphook picked up something from the corner of the room, and started shaking it, creating a loud clanging noise. The dragon shrunk back against the wall, flinching. “It’s been trained to expect pain when it hears the noise,” explained Griphook as they cautiously crossed the room. “What happens when it figures out that you’re not actually going to hurt it?” asked Draco. “We reinforce the message,” said Griphook darkly. Harry shuddered.

They approached the furthest vault, and Griphook grabbed the imperiused goblin’s hand and used it to gain access to the stone chamber. Harry’s mouth fell open as he saw what lay inside. There were mountains of galleons, and old paintings, and even a replica of the sword of Gryffindor. Then, at the back of the vault, he saw it. “There!” he cried pointing to it. “The little golden cup at the back of the vault with a badger on it.”

“Hufflepuff,” said Draco. “He was collecting the founders’ objects. That means the next horcrux will have something to do with Ravenclaw!”

“That’s all very well, but I think we need to focus on the task at hand. How do we get to the back of the vault? There’s bound to be some sort of enchantment on all this.”

“You’re right,” said Griphook. “Every single piece of treasure in this vault will multiply exponentially if you touch it, but the replicas are worth nothing. Also, they will burn you to blisters.” Was it Draco’s imagination, or was there something wrong with that voice…?

“Keep a good hold on that sword, Harry,” he whispered in his ear. “Griphook’s up to something.” Harry nodded. Griphook narrowed his eyes at Draco, guessing what he’d just said. “I’ll get the goblet,” he said. “No, you won’t,” decided Harry, trusting Draco’s judgement. “I’ll get as close as I can and hook the sword through one of the handles.” He shifted forwards towards the heaped gold, and leaning forwards, he just managed to get the sword through a handle. “I’ve got it!” he said, straining.

“Good! Now I suggest you give that sword to me,” said Griphook quietly. “Harry!” yelled Draco. Harry tried to twist round to see what was happening, and almost lost his balance. he steadied himself, but not before he’d made contact with a stray galleon with his foot. It popped along the floor, rattling as it kept doubling right before his eyes. “You’ve started it now, Potter,” sneered Griphook. “Soon, we’ll all be drowning in fake coins. So, I suggest you hand over that sword.” Harry cursed under his breath, and after ensuring the cup was safely retrieved, he turned around. “Harry, don’t do it! He’s a goblin; he’ll leave us in here even if we don’t give him the sword!” Draco was struggling against Griphook, who was attempting to silence him by twisting his arm around behind his back.

“You’re a dirty double crosser!” hissed Harry. “You pathetic, lying runt!”

“Runt!” howled Griphook. “I am no runt!  I am a goblin! Yes, I am a goblin, and we goblins are a vengeful people. How despicably we have been treated by wizards over the years, and now, to extract revenge. A small victory, locking their precious ‘Chosen One’ into a vault, but a victory nonetheless!”

“Griphook, you must be insane if you think leaving me in here is going to help! You who He is, you know what He does! If you leave me in here, everyone in this bank is going to die!”

Griphook said nothing to retaliate, instead electing to snatch the sword and the imperiused goblin, who had been watching the fighting with a dreamy far-off look. Harry and Draco ran after him, making it by a fraction of a hair. Griphook was already running off in front of them. “Theives!” he screamed. “Help, thieves!”

“Why that slimy little beast! If I ever get my hands on him, I swear I’ll rip him to shreds!” spat Draco, hissing with rage. Harry was a little frightened of his boyfriend, seeing him so angry that his slender frame shook. “Don’t worry, he’ll probably be dead soon anyway,” Harry reassured him. “We need to get out of here, and now!”

Draco suddenly stopped shaking and smiled, glancing at the dragon now approaching them. “Quick, on his back,” he instructed, taking the lead. He jumped on, clinging tightly to the ridges down the dragon’s spine. Harry followed suit, and Draco sent a blast towards the dragon’s chains just as hundreds of security guards came pouring into the room, no doubt sprung into action by Griphook’s treachery.

The cool marble floor of Gringotts bank really was lovely to look at, or at least Merryband thought so. It helped him recollect his thoughts in the middle of a busy working day.

Or at least, it did, before a dragon came bursting through it.

Merryband and many others went running for their lives, ducking under desks to avoid the shower of rubble being sent their way, and the dragon kept climbing up a smooth pillar towards the glass ceiling, where it could see light; it could sense freedom.

Draco and Harry braced again as the dragon shattered the ceiling, showering the chaos below in a sprinkling of shards of broken glass. The dragon stretched its wings out, and flapped. Harry watched as Diagon Alley passed by, and soon, they were flying through fresh country air.

Chapter Text

After Harry and Draco had jumped from the dragon into the lake, they set about getting warm and dry. “What did you mean about Griphook being dead before long?” asked Draco. “Well, they were expecting an attack. When it’s revealed that it was the Lestrange vault was the one that was broken into, He’s going to know straight away what was taken. After all, he put it in there because Gringotts is the safest place on earth; everyone knows that.”

“Not that safe if two teenagers can break in and live to tell the tale,” grinned Draco. “Anyway,” interrupted Harry, silencing Draco with a glare, “As they failed to do their duty and protect the thing that was most valuable to him, he’s going to slaughter every last man, woman and goblin in that bank.” Harry shivered at the image of Voldemort walking over hundreds of cold, stiff corpses while his death eaters stood off to the side.

They changed into their clothes and Harry pulled a jar out of his rucksack, filling it with one of the portable flames Hermione was so good at producing. He beckoned Draco close, and they sat on the shore of the lake, cupping the little jar of heat between them. Harry rested his head on Draco’s shoulder as they watched the sun go down.

“I didn’t think I’d get to see another one of these,”” said Draco softly. “When we were in the vault, and Griphook was arguing with you, it thought he’d take the sword and run us both through, or leave us in the vault to die.”

“I’m so glad we didn’t die,” said Harry. “There’s still so much left.”

“What do you mean?” asked Draco. Harry sighed, staring out over the lake as the light reflected off the surface of the water. “There are still so many things I need to say, and; so many things I want to do with my life.”

“If we’d have died in that vault, I would have died having never told you I loved you,” said Draco. “And that I’m sorry for everything I’ve done.”

“What do you mean, ‘sorry for everything you’ve done’?” Harry twisted uncomfortably so he could look Draco in the eye. “I made life hell for you at school,” said Draco, eyes glazing over with memories. “I bullied you, teased you, made fun of you and your friends, hell, I even bet money that you were going to die in that Tri Wizard tournament!”

“I wasn’t exactly nice, either. The time I used Sectum Sempra on you in the bathroom in sixth year…” he shuddered at the memory. “That was stupid of me, using a spell I didn’t know that was scrawled in the margin of someone’s old textbook.”

“It was,” agreed Draco. He sighed as the last dying rays of light faded away to darkness. “I… I love you, Harry.”

“I love you too,” replied Harry, pulling Draco’s face down to his to give him a proper kiss. “You mean the world to me.”

They stayed out in the open for hours; just two lovers under the stars, leaving their cares behind them as they kissed the night away.

*****

Harry woke up first the next morning. His back was stiff and his bed was hard and lumpy, and he could hear the sound of water nearby. There was something warm in front of him, something that had an arm flung over him in an almost protective way. He forced himself to crack open his eyes and was very glad he did. The first thing he saw was Draco Malfoy’s chest, pressed close against his face. When Harry shifted his chin upwards slightly, he came face to face with Draco, watching as his boyfriend slept. He looked so peaceful as he slept. Harry knew it was clichéd but it was true. The worries that were scrawled across his face while he was awake had completely vanished.

Harry snuggled in close, making the most of the warmth, which was odd, as Draco was only wearing a jumper, and it wasn’t exactly warm out. Harry realised with a smile that Draco had draped his jacket over the two of them, providing a bubble of warmth while they slept.

It was nice to just lie with his boyfriend, not worrying about anything. For once, it seemed like the world would just have to wait. Right now was their time.

Draco shifted in his sleep, trying to get comfortable on the uneven ground they had fallen asleep on. It didn’t take long before he woke up too, wriggling to try and get his back to cooperate with him. “Remind me,” he said, stretching out. “Why did we thing it was a fun idea to sleep on the floor?”

“I don’t really think we actively decided,” said Harry. “We just sort of… fell asleep.”

“After all the making out we did, who could blame us?” grinned Draco. Harry blushed slightly, reminded of the events of the previous night. “I don’t know; robbing a bank might have taken its toll too.”

“That’s effortless,” joked Draco. “Must have been the making out.” Harry rolled his eyes. “You’re such a dick.”

“And you’re an asshole. That’s why we fit together so perfectly.”

“Did Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy, of one of the most respectable wizarding families there are, just make a sex joke?” laughed Harry. Draco looked confused for a second before realising. “What, no! That wasn’t intentional! You’ve got a dirty mind, Potter.”

They both laughed, and then got ready. “So, about what you said in the vault yesterday, about the next horcrux having to do with Rowena Ravenclaw…” said Harry. “You were right. I had a dream, and I was connected to His thoughts, and I saw Hogwarts. I think we need to go there next.” Draco nodded. “How are we going to get in? I bet Snape’s not just going to let us waltz in.”

“I think our best bet would be Hogsmeade. There are tons of secret passageways that lead to the castle, and one of them is bound to be open.” Draco looked doubtful. “I’m going to take your word for it, simply because I haven’t got any better ideas.”

“Great! We need to get packed and gone. The sooner this is over, the better.”

Chapter Text

There was a sense of finality as they packed up their things. “Harry?”

“Mhm?”

“How many horcruxes are there left?”

“Well, I destroyed the diary in second year, and Dumbledore destroyed the ring just before the start of sixth year. Then we destroyed the locket, and the cup, then there’s the Ravenclaw item. I have no idea after that.”

“Oh,” said Draco. “It’s just that I thought that there was a set number of them.” Harry shrugged. “I guess we’ll just have to figure it out as we go.”

“How are we getting to Hogsmeade? Are we apparating?” Harry nodded. “But we’ll go when it’s dark; just in case there are people there we wouldn’t want to be meeting.”

“So, that means we’ve got a whole day to just relax.” Draco grinned. “Finally.”

They spent a whole day by the lakeside, just messing about. Around midday, they went for a swim, stripping off to just their underwear. Draco caught Harry staring. “See something you like, Potter?” Harry flushed, busted. “Just admiring the view,” he said, whilst making a mental note that Draco looked a little thinner than he should do.

They caught fish from the lake for dinner, roasting it over an open fire. “This is good,” said Harry, mouth full. “Sorry, what was that? I don’t speak fish,” replied Draco.

Darkness came sooner that either boy wanted, and they put out the fire, depositing any evidence they’d been there into the lake. Harry grabbed Draco’s hand, and just like that, they were gone.

They landed in Hogsmeade, and immediately a loud screeching sound filled the air. “The hell is that?” cried Draco. Hearing people approaching, Harry dragged Draco down a little side street, hiding. “Potter!” came a hissed voice to his left. A door opened, and Harry ran through it, dragging Draco with him.

The people ran past the building Harry and Draco now stood in, yelling. “Come on! You can’t hide from us!”

Harry and Draco stood in a darkish room, eyes adjusting to the low light. “You’re a bloody fool, coming back here, Harry Potter,” said a gruff voice. “And who’s that you’ve got with you?”

“Draco Malfoy, sir. Thank you for saving us.” The voice laughed, and Harry could finally make out the person it was coming from. “You’re Aberforth,” he said, more a statement than a question. “That’s right,” said Aberforth. “What are you doing here, boy? And why have you brought him with you?”

“Your brother gave me a job to do, and I’d appreciate your help. I need to get into the castle tonight.” Aberforth laughed. “You’ll have a hard time doing that, boy. The castle’s more secure than Azkaban these days, what with Snape as headmaster. You’ll do better to just go home, both of you. Give up my brother’s silly dreams.”

“I don’t have a home to go home to,” said Harry quietly, trying to contain his anger. “My house may or may not be crawling with death eaters, and as for the muggle house I grew up in, that no longer exists. It was blown to smithereens, or so I’ve heard.” Aberforth shrugged. “Run. I don’t care, just get yourself out of this war; you’ll live longer.”

“How can you be so blasé? This isn’t some silly argument between your brother and some other wizard! There are lives hanging in the balance here! People are dying every day, and you’re too cowardly to do anything about it!”

“Cowardly! I’ll tell you what’s cowardly! Pretending your baby sister simply didn’t exist because you wanted to travel the world looking for some silly artefacts that may or may not exist! Running away from the responsibilities you carry!”

“This isn’t about Ariana! I don’t care what stupid fight you and your brother had god knows how many years ago! I want you to help me, please.” Aberforth sighed. “I heard you were my brother’s man, through and through. What you must understand Harry, is that in his search for power and fame, my brother sacrificed many things. My sister was one of them. You may be too. I thought you were more than that, Harry. Your mother and father didn’t die that night in Godric’s Hollow for you to be a pawn in my brother’s chess game.”

“My mother and father didn’t die for me to become a coward either. I have to finish this, or many more innocent people are going to die,” said Harry. “I know it hurts,” he added softly. “When you lose someone you love. God knows I’ve lost so many. But at some point, you have to pull yourself out of the grief, and make sure that they didn’t die in vain. That’s why I’m your brother’s man. He believed in the greater good, and I do too.”

“You’ll want to be careful with that attitude,” said Aberforth. “Grindlewald was very well known to believe in the greater good, and that’s where my brother picked up the attitude.”

“I know. I read Rita Skeeter’s book,” said Harry, bristling internally at the thought of that obnoxious woman. Aberforth chuckled. “Not nice to see your heroes laid out and picked to pieces, is it boy?”

Draco gasped from somewhere across the room. “The mirror,” he said. “You had the other part all this time.”

“That belonged to Sirius! Just wait until I get my hands on Mundungus Fletcher!” growled to Harry. “Think about it; where would you be if I didn’t have it?”

“Dead,” said Harry, thinking back to the events at Malfoy Manor. “You sent Dobby?” asked Draco. “That’s right,” nodded Aberforth. “Where did you leave him?”

“He’s at Shell Cottage, dead,” said Draco. Aberforth looked shocked. “That’s a shame; I liked that elf.”

Harry was getting impatient. “Is there a way we can get into the castle undetected?” he asked Aberforth, who nodded at a painting of someone Harry presumed to be Ariana. “There’s one way in and out of Hogwarts now,” he said as Ariana walked towards the back of her painting. “It might be advisable to leave him here,” he said, nodding at Draco. “Word has it his family are death eaters. I don’t think he’ll be very welcome anymore.”

“What’s new?” muttered Draco. “He’s coming with me,” said Harry. “It’s non-negotiable.” He reached for Draco’s hand. Aberforth raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything.

Ariana was walking back into view, but there was someone behind her. The painting swung forwards, revealing none other than Neville Longbottom.

Chapter Text

“Hi Harry! And, erm, Malfoy…” said Neville, initial excitement to see Harry fading as he saw Draco’s face. “Told you,” whispered Aberforth. Harry ignored him. “Hi Neville! It’s so good to see you again!” Neville blinked. “Could I have a word, Harry? In private?”

Harry cast a muffliato charm around them. “What’s up?”

“Where’s Ron and Hermione?” asked Neville. “When they didn’t show up at school, we presumed they were with you, and then you show up with him…” Neville nodded at Draco. “It’s fine, honestly. Remus has already had this conversation with me, and Bill. I can trust him, and so can you. I know he made life difficult for you over these past few years, but he’s changed. Things are different, and people have changed.”

“People?” said Neville. “Who else has changed?”

“You, for one,” said Harry. “Where have all these scars come from?” he asked. “The Carrows,” said Neville dismissively. “But that’s not what I meant and you know it. What is it that you know, Harry?”

“There are spies,” said Harry. “In the Order. Not everyone can be trusted, and I have no idea who I can or can’t trust anymore.” Neville nodded. “I always kind of thought that it’d come down to this. I mean, He’d be stupid not to try and infiltrate the Order, right?” Harry got rid of the charm, and smiled at Draco. “Right, so how are we getting to Hogwarts?” he asked Neville in an overly bright voice. Neville gestured at the hole in the wall he’d just crawled out of. “Snape’s sealed up all the other passageways,” he said. Harry climbed into the hole after Neville, bringing Draco too. “So, who are the Carrows?” asked Harry. “They’re in charge of punishment now. They’re brutal; even Filch looks uncomfortable sometimes.”

“So what did you do to get that?” asked Draco. “In Defence Against the Dark Arts, we learnt about the Unforgivable Curses- by practising them. We had to practise the cruciatus curse on first years; I refused, and the Carrows gave me this. Brother and sister, they are.” Draco nodded. “They’re also death eaters.” Neville snorted. “Anyone with a bit of sense can figure that out,” he said, frostily. Just because Harry could forget six years of bullying, that didn’t mean Neville could.

They arrived at the end of the tunnel, and Neville lead them out into a room packed with students. “Hey, you lot! I brought you a surprise!”

“What now, Neville?” asked Seamus, clearly irritated. Neville stepped aside, revealing Harry stood side by side with Draco. There was a united cry of “Harry!” before general confused murmuring. “Are they holding hands?” asked someone. Harry glanced down at their hands, still loosely entwined. “Harry,” muttered Draco. “Kiss me.”

“Ginny, go get the word out to Remus and the others,” said Neville, keeping an eye on Draco and Harry.

“Now’s not really the time, dear,” replied Harry out of the corner of his mouth. “Just do it!” insisted Draco. Harry turned to look at him; ready to argue that really, now wasn’t the time to be making out. Draco saw his chance and took it, grabbing Harry by the face and kissing him; effectively silencing the room. Neville coughed awkwardly, hoping to break them apart. Draco pulled back, grinning as Harry flushed red before turning to the room. “If any of you have anything you wish to say, then please, speak up.”

Silence echoed through the room, and Draco nodded. “That’s what I thought. Now, you all know me as someone very different to who I truly am. Plenty has changed over the past two years, and my world has been thrown upside down. My father is, or rather, was until very recently, in Azkaban, I was ordered by He Who Must Not Be Named to kill Albus Dumbledore; a feat which greater wizards than I have failed. I have been inducted into a dangerous organisation, only to realise that I wanted out; I have been on the run for almost a year now. I have been snatched, and I have looked in my own mother’s eyes and she did not recognise me. Believe me when I tell you; I am not your enemy.”

Everyone in the room was stunned. Luna was the first to speak. “So, Harry and Draco, how can we help you?”

“We’re here looking for an object,” said Harry. “It’ll be small, easily concealed, just a sort of easily hide-able object. I realise that’s not a lot to go on.”

“That’s nothing to go on,” said Seamus. “I think it might have something to do with Ravenclaw,” said Harry. “Something that might have belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw.”

“What about the lost diadem?” said Luna. “Oh, Luna, no one alive has seen that diadem. There’s a reason it’s called the lost diadem,” said Cho. “No, that’s exactly the kind of thing we’re looking for!” said Harry.

Ginny ran back into the room. “Harry!” she cried, running over to hug him. Draco felt a weird twinge in his stomach, but was unsure as to why before he realised; Ginny and Harry used to date. She’s his ex-girlfriend. He felt marginally better as he saw Harry awkwardly patting her on the back until she let go. “Snape knows,” she said. “He knows that Harry was spotted in Hogsmeade, and he’s called an assembly.”

“He’s getting everyone out of bed so he can say that Harry may or may not be in Hogsmeade?” asked Dean. Ginny nodded. “Everyone, get into uniform. You know what the Carrows are like.”

Everyone scrambled round to get into dormitories and get into their uniform, leaving Harry stood in the middle of the room, wondering: just what happened to Hogwarts?

Chapter Text

Row after row of students marched down the stairs, and into the Great Hall. They filed in in neat rows, and stood in their houses. Snape stood at the front of the room, ranked by the Carrows, one on either side of the headmaster. The students stood staring at the floor, as did the staff. It very nearly broke Harry’s heart to see McGonagall staring at the flagstones, not daring to look up.

“Now,” said Snape in his monotonous drawl. “As you may or may not have heard, Harry Potter has been spotted in Hogsmeade.” Whispered conversations broke out throughout the hall, only to hurriedly stop when Snape started speaking again. “As you all know, this boy is incredibly dangerous, and should anyone, student or staff, attempt to aid Mr Potter they will be punished in a manner consistent with the severity of their offense. Anyone found to have knowledge of these events that does not come forwards will be treated as equally guilty.” Snape surveyed the mass of people before him, eyes coming to rest on the Gryffindor students. “Does anyone have anything they wish to confess?” he asked.

Harry decided enough was enough. He pushed past the people in his line, walking out into the open for everyone to see. “I’m right here, headmaster. It seems that despite your extensive security measures, you have a problem. I’m afraid it’s quite extensive.”

The wooden doors behind him burst open, revealing Draco stood with Kingsley Shacklebolt, Remus, Ron, Hermione, and so many more members of the Order. They strode almost in sync down the aisle towards Snape. In any other circumstance, Harry would have laughed because it all looked so rehearsed. As it was, he was too angry with Snape to allow anything else to enter his mind.

“How dare you stand where he stood? How dare you threaten these children! Tell them how it happened that night. Tell them how you looked Albus Dumbledore in the eyes, and killed him!”

Snape drew his wand, and faster than Harry could process the action, McGonagall had pushed through the crowd of gasping students and was stood in front of Harry, wand drawn. She struck first, launching a vicious set of jinxes and hexes at Snape, who blocked each, but only just. The Carrows drew their wands, but someone behind Harry hit them square in the chest with jinxes, sending them both flying backwards into the stone wall, both slumping to the floor unconscious.

Snape, sensing his imminent defeat, flew out of the window, leaving McGonagall shrieking after him. The students cheered her, breaking out into animated conversations. Harry ran over to Ron and Hermione, hugging them both tightly. “Harry! I missed you!” cried Hermione. “Is it true?” she whispered in his ear. “Remus told us you’d teamed up with Draco Malfoy.”

“You could call it that,” Harry told her. “Look, I’m really sorry I didn’t write or anything, but obviously I couldn’t. Why didn’t you two come back to Hogwarts?” he asked. “I didn’t go for interrogation,” said Hermione. “It wouldn’t have been clever to turn up at Hogwarts.”

“I wasn’t staying here without you two, and anyway, our faces are on wanted posters too, mate,” said Ron. “It’s not exactly a secret that we’re your friends.”

A scream cut Ron off. It echoed through the Great Hall, cutting off everyone’s conversations. A voice hissed through the hall, causing people to put their hands over their ears. Harry knew that voice straight away.

“I know that many of you will be preparing for some sort of battle… Some of you may even think it wise to fight for your cause… I assure you, this is not the case… Give me Harry Potter, and I will leave Hogwarts untouched… Give me Harry Potter, and you shall be rewarded… You have one hour to make your choice… Choose wisely.”

People started running in all directions, and McGonagall made a beeline for Harry. “I trust you came here for a reason Potter. What can we do for you?”

“I need time, professor, and as much of it as you can get me.” McGonagall nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.” She ran off to Professor Flitwick, who nodded gravely as she spoke to him. Harry turned his attention back to his friends. “Right, Ron and Hermione, Draco and I are going to look for the horcrux. You two need to find a way to destroy it, and this one.” He threw the cup at them, and grabbed Draco’s arm. He was already running when Ron shouted at him “How? What can we use?”

“I don’t know, anything!” shouted back Harry. “Use your imagination!” He slipped his hand into Draco’s and ran through crowded corridors, pushing through groups of frightened first years and ignoring people who shouted his name. “Where are we going?” asked Draco. “Ravenclaw common room. Have to start somewhere!”

“Harry!” Luna’s voice rose above the commotion. “Not now, Luna! I’m sort of busy!”

“Harry Potter you listen to me right now!” shouted Luna. Harry stopped dead in his tracks, shocked at hearing Luna raise her voice. “You’re going the wrong way,” she said. “And in any case, don’t you remember what Cho said? There isn’t a person alive who’s seen it.”

“So?” asked Draco. “It’s obvious,” said Luna, giving him a death stare. “We have to talk to someone who’s dead.”

She lead them through the commotion to a deserted corridor. “Down there; that’s where she normally is. Helena Ravenclaw, daughter of Rowena Ravenclaw.”

“Aren’t you coming?” asked Harry. “No; I’m needed elsewhere.” Luna left them to walk down the cold dark corridor, Harry still holding Draco’s hand.

It didn’t take long before they found her, watching out of a window as the chaos below unfolded. “Excuse me?” said Harry quietly. “Are you Helena Ravenclaw?”

“Yes,” she replied, tearing her eyes away from the window. “And you are Harry Potter.”

“Yes,” said Harry. “That’s right. I need your help, please. If you’re willing to give it.”

“You seek my mother’s diadem,” she said, sadness ringing through her voice. “There was another, fifty years ago who sought out my mother’s diadem. He was a clever boy, smart, and intuitive.”

“Yes, Tom Riddle, although nowadays he’s known as-”

“I KNIW WHO HE IS!” shouted Helena, suddenly angry. “I KNOW WHO THAT BOY IS! I KNOW WHO HE HAS BECOME! HE SOUGHT OUT MY MOTHER’S DIADEM, THEN DEFILED IT WITH DARK MAGIC!”

“Please!” cried Harry as she started to fly away. “I want to destroy it, for good. I’m not like the other boy; my intentions are pure.”

Helena stopped in her tracks, turning back around to face Harry. “It’s strange. You remind me of him.” She sighed. “If you need to ask, you will never know. If you know, you need only ask.”

She disappeared without another word, leaving Draco and Harry to figure out her little riddle. “Got it!” yelled Harry. “We just need to find Ron and Hermione.” He pulled the Marauder’s Map out of his pocket, glad he’d had the sense to bring it with him. “There!” cried Draco, pointing at the map. “In the girl’s bathroom, there.”

“The Chamber of Secrets,” whispered Harry. “Of course! I destroyed the diary with a basilisk fang, and the skeleton is still in the chamber! Come on!” he grabbed Draco’s hand and started running again.

Meanwhile, Ron opened up the Chamber of Secrets. Hermione stared at him. “That’s incredible, Ron!” she said. “Harry talks in his sleep,” explained Ron. He jumped in the hole that had appeared, followed closely by Hermione. They landed on the carpet of bones below with a crunch. “Come on,” said Ron, leading Hermione through the Chamber to the main room where the skeleton of the basilisk lay. “Look!” cried Ron, running over to it. “I knew it would still be here!” Hermione reached down and carefully dislodged one, before throwing her arms around Ron. “You’re incredible!2 she said before pressing her lips to his.

Ron was taken totally by surprise, but he relaxed into the kiss before he felt something sharp being stabbed into his back. He took two staggered steps backwards, reaching behind him and pulling out a basilisk fang that had been lodged in between his shoulder blades. Hermione stood before him, face unreadable. “H-Hermione?” choked Ron. “I’m so sorry, Ron,” she said. “But I’m afraid I had to.”

“H-had to?” Hermione gave a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yes, I had to. I am so, so sorry that it had to be you, but I suppose you doomed yourself.”

“W-what?” spluttered Ron. “H-Hermione, you’re not making any s-sense!”

“When you followed me!” she hissed. “When I went out to meet Bellatrix, you followed me. She noticed you hiding. She told me that I had to get rid of you. I begged her to reconsider, and she gave me this.” Hermione lifted up her jumper to reveal an ugly scar across her stomach. Her voice wobbled as she apologised again. “I am so very sorry, Ron. I’m sorry it took so long. I’m sorry it’s taking so long now.” She laid him down on the ground gently, smoothing the hair out of his eyes. “I’m sorry I can never love you like you want me to, but this is goodbye. Who knows,” she said, a single tear running down her face, “Maybe we’ll meet again in another life.”

Ron watched her walk out of the room, horcrux in hand. He’d never felt more alone in his life, and he lay back onto the wet floor, accepting his fate.

Chapter Text

Harry and Draco burst into the girl’s bathroom, finding the passageway already open. They jumped, hitting the bone carpet just like Ron and Hermione had done only minutes before. Harry wanted to heck the map to see if they were on their way out before he remembered that the Chamber of Secrets wasn’t on the map.

They ran through to the main chamber, only to see something, or rather someone lying on the floor in  sizeable pool of blood. “Ron!” yelled Harry, splashing across the room to get to his best friend. Ron lifted his head slightly at the sound of his best friend’s voice. “H-Harry?”

“Yeah, Ron, I’m here. Who did this to you?”

“H-Hermione.”

Harry’s heart stopped. “No…” he breathed. Ron coughed and spluttered, bringing Harry’s attention back to him. Draco placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “I’m going to give you two some privacy. Use the map to find me when…”

He didn’t need to finish the sentence, and Harry was glad he didn’t. Draco left the room, gently pulling out a fang as he went, leaving Harry holding Ron, his best friend’s head on his lap. “Ron, I want you to hold on. We’ve gotten out of much worse than this together.”

“You prat,” said Ron weakly. “I’ve never had much worse than this.” Harry laughed weakly with him. “True. It’s just… You can’t leave me, Ron!”

“I-it’s okay,” said Ron. “You’ve got Draco now, and Fred and George and Bill, and Mum and Dad…” he trailed off. “You’re the dying one,” joked Harry. “Isn’t it supposed to be me comforting you?” Ron smiled as his eyes fluttered closed.

“RON! NO, YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME RON!” Harry howled as the last remaining thread of Ron’s life snapped, leaving him a motionless corpse, smiling up at Harry.

It was like a switch had been flicked inside of Harry’s head. He was furious and sad and utterly heartbroken at the same time. Ron had been his brother, and he’d just watched him die in his arms, killed by the girl he had one day hoped to marry. “It’s not fair,” sobbed Harry, tears flowing freely from his eyes. “You deserved so much better than this. You deserved to die at home, in a warm bed, well into your hundreds. Now you’re just another statistic. But don’t worry,” he added, “I’ll make sure you get a proper burial. I’ll make sure you’re not just thrown into some pit. The world will know what Ronald Weasley has done.”

It tore Harry’s heart in heart to have to leave. He considered taking Ron with him, but decided against it, deciding that he’d rather make sure Ron was kept away from all the fighting. He pulled out the map, and it didn’t take him long to locate Draco, right next to…

Oh no.

Harry started running.

*****

After he left Harry in the main chamber, Draco went for Hermione. He figured that since Ron was still alive, she couldn’t have gotten far. He was right. He caught up with her in a corridor not far from the exit of the chamber, and he went for her.

He got her from behind, slamming her into a wall. She gasped in shock, head knocking against the stones. “Ouch, Draco! That hurt!”

“Yeah, I bet it did,” he hissed. “Not quite as much as being stabbed in the back though.” Hermione looked shocked. “Does Harry know you’re here? I’m not sure he’d approve of you pinning me up against a wall.”

“Do not play dumb with me, Granger. Why did you stab Ron?”

“I didn’t!” insisted Hermione, struggling to get away from him. “Really? Then why is he lying dead in the Chamber of Secrets?” shouted Draco. “I didn’t know you cared, Malfoy,” sneered Hermione in a poor attempt to cover her fear. “I don’t. I don’t give a fuck about you, or the Weasley boy, but I’ll go after anyone that makes Harry cry.”

“Look, I’m sorry, but I had to! I had no choice; surely you of all people would understand that?” said Hermione. “Wasn’t it you that was ordered to kill Dumbledore last year?”

“But I didn’t. I'm not a killer,” said Draco. “But I’m not afraid to give people a beating.” Hermione’s eyes widened as Draco dropped her to the floor and drew his wand.

“Sectum Sempra!”  Hermione screamed in pain just as Harry came bolting round the corner. “Draco, no!” he yelled. “Don’t kill her! Don’t let this war change what you are.”

“Oh Harry, it already has. I didn’t kill her. I used Sectum Sempra.” Indeed, Hermione lay bleeding on the floor, but she was still very much alive.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!” with a shout, Remus sprinted into view. “What have you done!” he yelled at Harry and Draco, staring at Hermione on the floor. Hermione saw her chance. “It’s Draco!” she gasped. “He’s not trustworthy!”

“LIAR!” yelled Draco. “She killed Ron!” Remus stared between them both, deciding who to believe. He glanced at Harry’s tear stained face. “Harry, what’s wrong?”

“Sh-she killed him. Stabbed him in the back with a basilisk fang,” choked Harry, a wave of emotion washing over him. Remus pulled him into a tight hug, smoothing down Harry’s hair as he sobbed. “Where is he?” he asked softly. “In the Chamber of Secrets,” said Draco, seeing that Harry was uable to answer. Remus nodded. “Harry, I’m going to hand you over to Draco. You can have two  minutes to cry, then you have to get on with your task.”

“Where are you going?” asked Draco. “I’m going to take Miss Granger over to the hospital wing, and ensure that she stays there,” said Remus, an ominous undertone ringing through his voice. He gently pried Harry away from him, and Draco immediately wrapped his arms around him, keeping Harry safe. Remus picked up Hermione, and walked off in the direction of the hospital wing.

Draco watched them go before talking to Harry. “Shh, hush. Come on, she’s left the cup here. We need to destroy it. Would you like to do it, or me?”

“Y-you do it. I’m sick of horcruxes,” sobbed Harry. Draco nodded, extracting the fang he’d pulled earlier. Keeping one arm around Harry, he took a deep breath and plunged the fang into the cup, piercing the metal. A deathly scream sounded, just like with the locket.

“It’s done,” he sad to Harry, who was sniffling and wiping his eyes. “Come on,” he said thickly. “Let’s go to the Room of Requirement.”

They didn’t take long to get to it, as most of the corridors had cleared. Students had been herded into common rooms, and those who were of age and wanted to fight stood at their battle stations, wands at the ready.

Harry cleared his mind as they approached the wall, and sure enough, the wall opened up, revealing a door. He pushed it open, revealing towers of junk.

“It could be anywhere,” he said. “Best split up. You take that side, and I’ll take this side.” They separated, and Harry walked deliberately in between the piles of junk, scanning carefully for anything that caught his eye.

It didn’t take him long before he saw it, perched on top of a model head. “Draco, I found it!” he called out.

“Draco?” said a gruff voice. Harry spun round to see Crabbe and Goyle, Draco’s loyal henchmen stood before him. “Draco’s been with you?” asked Crabbe. “Yeah,” said Harry. “I don’t believe you,” said Goyle. “I bet you imperiused him. Only one way to break the curse,” he sneered, pulling out his wand. “Have to kill the caster.”

Harry didn’t have to think. He ran for his life. fortunately, Crabbe and Goyle’s reactions were considerably slower than his, so he’d managed to round a few corners before they’d even started running.

A broomstick! He grabbed it and kicked off, looking for Draco. What he saw made his heart stop. Goyle had conjured a jet of fire from his wand, laughing. “You can’t hide from fire, Potter!”

“Harry?” called out Draco, sounding like he was in the far corner of the room. Harry zoomed towards him, only stopping or a few seconds so Draco could grab hold of his waist. “Goyle’s set the place on fire!” he shouted. “We need to get that diadem, and fast!”

Harry zoomed to where he had found the diadem in the first place, grabbing it as he flew by. He couldn’t see Crabbe or Goyle anywhere. “Just go, Harry!” yelled Draco. “They’re dead, if not as good as! There’s nothing you can do!”

Harry headed for the exit, pursued by a persistent heat that singed the ends of the broomstick. They made it out just in time, and Harry just managed to plunge the fang into the diadem before Draco kicked it back into the fire, doors slamming shut just in time.

Chapter Text

Draco and Harry sat panting outside the Room of Requirement, taking  moment to breathe.  Harry wandered over to the window, looking out at all the defensive charms that the teachers had placed over the school. It was quite impressive, really. There were stone soldiers guarding every gate, stood to attention.

“It’s starting,” said Harry. Draco joined him at the window, watching as spell after spell hit the protective barrier, bouncing off to no effect. “Come on,” he said. “There’s got to be another horcrux left.  Get inside his head; look to see where the next horcrux is.” Harry sank down against a wall, locking his eyes closed in concentration.

Pictures. So many pictures. There was pain too; a recent pain. He felt it, and he was angry. A surge of magic flowed through his mind, flowing through to his wand. There was pictures of a snake, and boats. The snake was recurring, and he felt it on his arm, draped round his shoulders. It was important that she be kept safe-

“The snake!” said Harry, coming to. “The snake is the last horcrux, then it’s just him.”

“Where is he?” asked Draco. “There was boats,” said Harry, trying to think of a place in the school that had boats. “Like the boats we sail in on in first year.” Draco nodded. “I know where they are,” he said. “Come on!”

It was peaceful by the boats. None of the shouts or cries of the battle going on in the castle could be heard, and Draco ad Harry crept silently towards the boathouse. He wasn’t alone in there; Harry heard Snape’s distinctive drawl. He couldn’t make out exactly what Snape was saying, but from what Voldemort was saying, it sounded like they were talking about a wand.

“You’re a smart man, Severus. You surely know where the wand’s true loyalties lie.” There was a mumble from Snape, followed by a short apology from Voldemort. “You’ve been a faithful servant, Severus,” he said. “But only I can live forever.”

A body fell against the clouded windows of the boathouse. “Nagini, dinner.” Harry and Draco ducked behind a bush as Voldemort entered the open air, taking in a deep breath before heading off to the Forbidden Forest.

After being sure that the snake was gone, Harry rushed inside. Snape lay bleeding against the window. Bleeding, but still just alive. “H-Harry,” said Snape, beckoning him over. “T-take them,” he said, gesturing to the tears slowly dripping down his face. Harry scrambled for a container, and found a small flask. “P-put them in the p-pensieve.” Harry nodded, staying by Snape’s side, Draco on the other. “Y-you really d-do have your m-mother’s eyes,” spluttered Snape. Harry nodded as Snape’s eyes closed for the last time.

“Come on,” he said to Draco. Draco nodded, fighting back the tears. He had known Snape since he was tiny, and while they may have grown apart during Draco’s years at Hogwarts, it still hurt to see him slumped motionless on some dirty floor. He shook himself, and went with Harry all the way to the statue that marked the entrance to the Headmaster’s office. “I think you should stay here,” said Harry. Draco simply nodded, sinking down on a step while Harry climbed up the stairs.

Draco didn’t know how long he was sat there unable to keep the memories  from swirling about in his head.

He’s five years old. Daddy’s in a meeting, but he wants to play… Snape picks him up from his hiding place under the table, bounces him on his knee while Daddy’s talking…

He’s eleven years old, and nervous about starting Hogwarts… Snape comes and finds him in his room, gives him a couple of tips… “I want to be in your house,” he says… “Don’t worry, you will be,” replies Snape, smiling…

He’s seventeen years old… Potter’s just attacked him in the girl’s bathroom… Snape gently heals the cuts and makes sure he’s okay…

Harry came down the steps, and Draco cleared his head. “What was in the tears?” he asked. Harry was about to reply, but he was cut off by the same voice as before.

“You have fought bravely… valiantly…It is such a pity… Every drop of magical blood spilled is a waste… I therefore order my forces to retreat… in their absence, dispose of your dead with dignity…

“Harry Potter, I now speak directly to you… You have allowed your friends to die for you… There is no greater dishonour… join me in the Forbidden Forest… Or I will kill every last man, woman and child in Hogwarts castle… Join me in the Forbidden Forest…”

Harry stood, a determined look on his face. “Harry, no! You can’t go!” insisted Draco. “He’ll kill you, how can you not see that!”

“I have to!” cried Harry. “This isn’t about honour, Harry. This is your life!” argued Draco. “I’m a horcrux!” yelled Harry. “In the pensieve, Snape’s memories… they showed me a conversation he had with Dumbledore, where Dumbledore revealed that when Voldemort came after my parents in Godric’s Hollow, he accidentally created me as a horcrux. I don’t think he knows about it. But I have to go. He has to destroy me like we’ve destroyed all the other horcruxes. Don’t worry about me,” he said, as Draco opened his mouth to speak. “Go after the snake. Kill the snake, then it’s only him left. You need to finish this, Draco.”

“But Harry, I can’t lose you!” sobbed Draco. “If I lose you I have nothing!” Harry smiled as he wrapped his arms around Draco’s neck. “It’s for the greater good.”

He pressed his lips to Draco’s, feeling his own tears running down his face as well as Draco’s. It felt like the best kiss of his life, which made him cry even harder, knowing that it was his last.

He pulled away. “I love you so much,” he whispered before making himself run away from Draco.

Chapter Text

“I love you so much,” Harry whispered as he ran. “Harry! No!” Draco sank down the wall, sobbing harder than he’d ever sobbed in his life.

He was found there by Professor McGonagall half an hour later. “Malfoy! Where’s Potter?” she asked. “H-he’s gone!” he choked out. McGonagall’s hand flew to her mouth. She quickly composed herself, placing her arm round Draco’s shoulders. “Come now, to the Great Hall. We’ll get you a shock blanket and something to eat,” she said, noting how thin Draco looked.

Draco allowed himself to be lead to the Great Hall, only realising as they got there what a mistake that was. Madame Pomfrey rushed around in circles, trying to attend to the injured lying about everywhere. Some she could heal with a tap of the wand, but others… when she tapped them, a small symbol appeared on their head, causing those surrounding them to burst into tears.

The dead were laid out further down the Hall, nearer to where the teachers ate at mealtimes. Friends and family clumped together, howling in misery as they stared down at the deceased. Draco easily spotted the Weasleys, stood over two corpses. Draco glanced as he walked past, and saw Ron and one of the twins. The other twin was inconsolable. Bill stood with them, hand on his mother’s back as she sobbed. Draco was glad to see that he was with them, and had supported the Order, even with the threat of his family being hurt. Well, at least they can’t get hurt anymore, thought Draco. They’re safe now.

Remus a little way down from the Weasleys, stood silently by himself. Tonks lay pale and motionless, her bubble gum pink hair shocking against her bloodless face. Draco swallowed uncomfortably as McGonagall sat him down on the stool that the first years sat on when they were being sorted. She conjured a blanket for him, and wrapped it round his  shoulders before walking briskly off, with the promise of returning with food.

Remus came over, sinking onto the floor beside Draco. “He’s gone into the Forbidden Forest, hasn’t he?” he asked deadpan. Draco nodded. “We were going to make him Teddy’s godfather,” said Remus. “Teddy?” asked Draco. “Our son. She had him just a few weeks ago.” Draco simply nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Remus carefully sat down on the floor beside Draco. “I’m sorry I doubted you,” he said after a little while. “I’m sorry I gave you such a hard time. I should have listened to Harry, trusted him.”

“It’s fine,” said Draco. “I’d consider you an idiot if you didn’t question it.”

Silence fell again. “You know, Harry is remarkable boy. He’ll find a way out of it; he always does.”

“No, Remus, please. I can’t do that to myself. I just have to accept he’s gone. I need to just move on.” Draco started crying again. “Yes, Harry was a remarkable boy. He did nearly always find some ridiculous way out of situations. He was someone that we could all look up to. He was so strong, so incorruptible. You’d think that maybe, with all the things that have happened to him, you’d think that maybe he’d just give up. But he didn’t. He never stopped fighting. He kept going through all of his pain, through all of his nightmares and terror, he kept pushing forwards. He had a job to do, and he’s paid the ultimate price to finish it.”

The Weasley family had started to listen in to his mini eulogy. “And that’s exactly what I’m going to do,” said Draco. “Harry gave me a job to do, and I’m going to do it; even if it kills me.” He stood up. “I’m going snake hunting.”

He held his head high as he paraded out of the hall. He had one thing and one thing only on his mind: finding that snake.

He marched out into the courtyard, hell bent on his task, only to stop dead in his tracks. A large group of people, silhouetted against the rising sun, made its way into the centre of the destruction. As they got closer, Draco could make out Voldemort at the front, closely followed by the bulky gamekeeper, flanked on either side by two people, holding the chains for the collar around the half giant’s neck. A crowd of people had started to gather behind Draco, shocked gasps sounding as they laid eyes on what Draco had just seen; Harry’s body, limp and lifeless in Hagrid’s arms.

“Harry Potter is dead!” shouted Voldemort, leering. “Hahaha!” Several people around Draco burst into tears, causing Voldemort to laugh even harder. Suddenly he stopped dead. “Your hero is dead. Now you can join me,” he said, gesturing at his group of followers, “Or you can die.”

“Draco!” his father’s voice rang out across the courtyard. “Come on, Draco,” said his mother softly, holding out her arms. For a split second, Draco had a flashback to a similar scene, when he was very young. In his mind’s eye, his mother smiled at him, her grey streaked hair pure black, while his father stood with his hand on her shoulder.

He wanted to run towards them, like he had done in the memory, but he shook himself back to the present. “No!” he shouted back to them. “I’ve made my choice; I’m staying here.”

“Alright,” said Voldemort. “Look at your classmate, children. See what happens when you say no.” Draco closed his eyes, bracing. Coming to you, Harry.

There was a scuffle, and Draco found himself being thrown to the floor as someone shouted “Protego!” Draco opened his eyes.

Harry smiled back down at him. “Surprise,” he said before turning his attention back to their immediate problem. He grabbed a rock and threw it at the snake, hoping to crush it. He missed, and he ran for his life back into the corridors. Voldemort went after him, in his fury forgetting to bring Nagini.

Harry ran, throwing random curses behind him as he went. Not noticing the collapsed pillar in front of him, Harry tripped over, dropping his wand. He scrambled after it, grabbing it just in time.

“Avada Kedavra!”  yelled Voldemort. Harry cast a non-verbal spell, and the two jets of energy met in the middle. Each wizard stared the other in the eye, refusing to relent. “You can’t kill me, Tom,” panted Harry. “The wand won’t kill me.”

“You foolish boy! I killed the wand’s last master! Now it answers to me,” snarled Voldemort. “No, you didn’t,” insisted Harry. “Snape never owned the elder wand. It never answered to him. It answers to me, and has done since the night Dumbledore died.”

Voldemort let out an unholy scream, and the connecting energies died out. Harry knew that somehow Draco had managed to kill the snake. It’s just him. Let’s finish this.

They locked again in a duel, both aiming for the kill. Harry’s theory was correct. The elder wand began to relent, unable to kill it’s master. It cracked, and the stream of energy grew ever shorter. Harry’s spell hit Voldemort, and the elder wand flew out of his hand.

Tom Riddle fell to the ground, in death equal to all those he had slain.

Chapter Text

Aurors arrived on scene as the death eaters scrambled. Harry ran back towards the courtyard where he’d seen Draco last, and ran slap bang into Hermione. “Oh, hi Harry,” she said breathlessly. “I would love to stop and chat, but I’ve got to be going…”

“Oh no, you don’t,” said Harry, grabbing her wrist before she could run off. “You’re going to the Aurors.” Hermione’s eyes widened in fear. “Harry, no! you can’t just haul me off to the Aurors, I’m your friend! What would Ron say?”

Harry was suddenly furious. “It doesn’t matter what Ron would say, because Ron is dead, and you killed him!”

There was a gasp behind them. Harry turned round to see Mrs Weasley, pale as a sheet. “You killed him?” she asked Hermione quietly. Hermione at least had the decency to stare at her shoes, ashamed of her actions. Mrs Weasley set her mouth in a straight firm line. “I see. You know, he hoped to marry you one day. I hope you know that.” She walked off, unable to keep herself composed for much longer. Harry took his opportunity and dragged Hermione over to the nearest Auror, which just happened to be Kingsley Shacklebolt. “Harry! Congratulations, my boy, you did it!”

“Thanks, Kingsley, but I need you to take her,” he said, shoving Hermione forwards. “Why?” asked Kingsley, confused. “I thought she was your friend?”

“Yeah, so did I. but she’s been a spy in the Order, and she killed Ron.”

“The youngest Weasley boy?” asked Kingsley. Harry nodded. “Molly will be heartbroken when she finds out it was her,” said Kingsley, grabbing Hermione’s arm. Harry didn’t bother telling him that she already knew, instead watching as Kingsley pulled Hermione away.

A pair of arms was thrown around his middle, and he felt himself being lifted up and twirled round. “You did it!” cried Draco, once he’d set Harry down. “We did it,” corrected Harry. “Actually, Longbottom killed the snake,” said Draco. “He used the sword.”

“What, and I suppose it was Neville who came with me while we hunted the horcruxes?” teased Harry. “No, I suppose,” said Draco. Harry pulled him in tight. “I thought I was never going to see you again,” he said into Draco’s chest.

Neither boy said anything for a while, instead remaining still in the middle of the courtyard until healers insisted that they separate so medical examinations could be carried out. After the healers cleared them both, a hand was place on Harry’s shoulder. “I suggest that you go home, Potter,” said McGonagall. “If not, you’ll be swamped with people in about two minutes.” Harry nodded. “Professor,” he called, just as she was leaving, “I just want to say thank you. You didn’t have to do all of this. You’ve lost so much, because of me, everyone has…”

McGonagall cut him off. “Of course we had to, you silly boy. Now go, quickly.” Draco grabbed Harry’s hand and lead him through the school and out of school grounds so that they could apparate away.

“Where shall we go?” asked Harry. “How about Malfoy Manor? I doubt my parents will be back there, what with them being wanted criminals and all.” Harry nodded, and he held tight onto Draco’s hand as they disappeared.

The next few weeks were difficult for everyone, but Harry felt like he felt it more than most. He spent most of his time in bed, either catching up on lost sleep or just because he couldn’t face leaving. He did drop in on the Burrow about twice a week, and every time Mrs Weasley told him he was much too thin, and sat him down at the kitchen table so that she could cook him some ‘proper food’.

He even went back to Grimmauld Place once, but he was ushered out by a group of ministry officials. “We’re well aware that it is your house, Mr Potter,” said one, “But we simply can’t allow you back in until it has been made suitably safe.” Apparently, following their trip to the ministry, death eaters had been into Grimmauld Place and set up vicious booby traps, hoping that Harry might return.

Draco stayed by him while he was dealing with his problems. He held Harry while he cried, made sure he at least ate breakfast in the morning, kept all his clothes clean and made sure that he was alright. Harry couldn’t have asked for more. Together, they dealt with the horror of what they’d been through.

Harry’s eighteenth birthday soon rolled around, and Draco was in the kitchen making breakfast when something that vaguely resembled his boyfriend shuffled his way through the door. “You’re up!” he exclaimed. “Well, sort of.” Harry had indeed left his bed, but he’d brought his duvet with him, and was now sat on a chair, wrapped in his duvet so that only his face was showing. “Are you visiting the Burrow today?” asked Draco. Harry nodded. “I was thinking I’d go at around dinner time. No offence, but Mrs Weasley’s cooking is incredible; much better than yours,” he said. “Wow,” said Draco, pretending to be insulted. “And I even got you a birthday present!”

“It’s not my birthday,” said Harry, confused. “Yes it is!” laughed Draco. “Are you really that out of it?” Harry nodded. “It’s not even been your birthday yet.”

“Yes it has,” Draco told him. “Oh, shit!” Harry swore. “We didn’t celebrate it! I’m sorry!”

“Hey, hey! That’s fine. I don’t really want you to.” Harry raised his eyebrows. “You can’t fool me, Draco Malfoy. Tomorrow, we are going to celebrate your birthday.”  Draco rolled his eyes, rushing back to the porridge he’d made. “Can I have some of your porridge?” asked Harry. “I don’t know, are you sure it’s good enough for you?” joked Draco.

After they’d finished breakfast, Draco went and got Harry’s presents. The first parcel he presented made a sploshing noise when Harry shook it. “Careful!” said Draco. Harry tore off the wrapping paper to find a bottle of Firewhisky. “Guess who’s old enough to drink now!” said Draco. Harry laughed as Draco gave him his other gift. Harry ripped through the paper to find a rectangular box. “Open it,” said Draco. Inside, there was a necklace on a silver chain with a tiny little bottle pendant. The bottle was filled with a cloudy, milky white substance that looked like the memories that went in the pensieve. “Draco, is this…”

“A memory,” Draco confirmed. “And you can’t watch it until I’m dead, or I’ll die of embarrassment. Read the label though.” Harry held the tiny bottle up to his eyes so that he could read the label. On it, in cursive lettering, were the words

Draco Malfoy’s soul

“You made your own horcrux,” whispered Harry. “Not a real one,” Draco said quickly. “It’s not a real horcrux, but I kind of liked the idea of you owning a small part of my soul.” He smiled quickly. Harry undid the clasp. “Put it on me,” he ordered. “I’m never, ever taking it off.” He turned round and kissed Draco harder than he’d ever kissed anyone, pinning him down on the sofa.

They were starting to get into it when a discreet little cough interrupted them. Harry sat up, embarrassed. Kreacher stood before them, holding a beautifully wrapped box. “Kreacher is sorry to disturb you, master,” he said, bowing. “Kreacher will punish himself later.”

“No you won’t,” said Harry, not missing the small smile that crossed the house elf’s face at the thought of not having to punish himself. “How did you find us?” he asked. “Well, after Master left, nasty men came to the house, and Kreacher hid. Kreacher didn’t know it was safe to come out until a lady from the ministry found Kreacher, and told him to go back to his master. Kreacher said he didn’t know where Master was, and she said Master would probably be at the Burrow. When Kreacher arrived at the Burrow, Kreacher was told that Master was living in Malfoy Manor. Kreacher also overheard the family talking about birthday celebrations for Master. Kreacher didn’t know, but Kreacher wanted to get Master a present, because Master has been so kind to Kreacher, so Kreacher found this that belonged to Master Sirius. Kreacher thought Master might like it.”

He handed Harry the box, and Harry carefully unwrapped it, not wanting to ruin the elf’s impeccable wrapping skills. Inside, he saw a photograph in a silver frame. It was a moving photo of Sirius and Harry’s dad, laughing together as they pointed at something behind the camera. Harry felt a pang of emotion in  his heart. “Thank you Kreacher. I love it. In fact,” he said, getting off the sofa, “it’s going right there in the middle of the mantelpiece.

Draco snickered. “Harry, aren’t we forgetting something?” he asked. “Oh, shit! I forgot I wasn’t wearing any clothes!” cried Harry, hurriedly grabbing the duvet. “That’s why I brought the duvet!”

It took Draco a full hour to stop laughing, during which time Harry had gotten dressed, and established with Kreacher that he could stay here. “I actually would rather like for you to stay here, Kreacher. I know that Grimmauld Place is your home, but…”

“Kreacher’s home is wherever Master is,” insisted Kreacher.

Harry decided to take off for the Burrow. “Have fun!” said Draco, settling down on the sofa with his book. “Draco, why not come with me?” asked Harry. “It’ll be the perfect occasion for you to meet the Weasleys properly. They keep asking to meet you.”

“I’m alright, thanks,” said Draco. “All those people asking questions? No thanks.” Harry laughed. “Come on, it’ll be fun!” he insisted. “We can pretend we’re normal teenagers, and I’m bringing my boyfriend home for the first time. Anyway, it is my birthday.”

Draco sighed. “Fine. When are we leaving?”

“Now!” exclaimed Harry, grabbing Draco’s arm and apparating before he could change his mind. They arrived a short walk away from the Burrow, Draco landing in a puddle. “Harry! You did that on purpose!” he pouted. “Did not,” said Harry automatically. Draco rolled his eyes and they started their walk up to the Burrow.

Harry opened the door cautiously, looking around the dark room before using his wand to flick on the lights.

“SURPRISE!”

Harry almost jumped out of his skin as the entire Weasley family jumped out from behind various pieces of furniture. Mrs Weasley was the first to run over and hug him. “Happy birthday, Harry!” she squeezed him tight. “I know Ron would have loved to be here to celebrate with you.” Harry smiled weakly as he thought of his best friend, hiding behind the armchair next to his sister, jumping out as the lights flicked on, giving Harry one of his tight bear hugs he reserved for special occasions…

“Happy birthday, Harry!” George came over to him, patting him on the back. “Didn’t think you’d live this long, if I’m honest…”

“George!” his mother chastised. “He knows I’m joking!” said George with a wink. “Now Harry, you come through here and sit over there, that’s it. Remus should be along in a few moments with a special surprise for you…”

Harry could guess what the ‘special surprise’ was, and his suspicions were confirmed when Remus knocked on the door, Teddy in arms. “Happy birthday, Harry!” he said. He sat down in the chair Mrs Weasley offered him, and bounced Teddy on his knee. “What’s that?” he asked Teddy, holding the child up close to his face. “You want to sit with Uncle Harry? You say you want to give Daddy a break?” Harry laughed as he took Teddy. He sat in his place next to Draco, unsure of what exactly he should do with him. He tried bouncing him up and down on his knee like Remus had done, and he seemed to like that. Draco leaned in close, supporting him. “Careful!” he said. “You don’t want to drop him; he might end up as dumb as you!”

“I am not dumb!” retorted Harry. “Oh really?” said Draco, eyebrow raised. “Of the people in this room, who forgot to actually put clothes on this morning?”

A bright flash of light interrupted their mini argument. After the bright dots had cleared from his eyeballs, Harry could make out Mrs Weasley stood with a camera, smiling. “Oh, how lovely!” she cried. “That’s one for the album!”

“Anyway, Draco, what was that about Harry forgetting to wear clothes this morning?” asked Ginny, grinning devilishly.

After a long evening of recounting embarrassing tales of Harry, topped off by a spectacular cake baked by Ginny and Mrs Weasley, Harry and Draco returned home to Malfoy Manor.

They curled up on the sofa, wrapped in blankets, simply lying on top of one another, staring into the dying firelight. Harry glanced up at Draco, watching as the light flickered over his face, and thought of his family at the Burrow, and sighed. “What’s wrong?” asked Draco.

“Nothing,” said Harry. “I was just thinking that I’ve always been known as the Boy Who Lived, and now, I can finally do it. I’m finally free to go ahead and live a normal life; no bounty on my head, no dark wizards out to get me. For once in my life, I feel like even though I’ve lost so much, it’s finally gained a purpose.”

Draco kissed him on the top of the head. “Me too.”

Chapter Text

“Come on, Sirius, stop talking to that man! You don’t know who he is!” Harry grinned as the dark haired little boy ran up beside them, energy overflowing. “But Dad, he was telling me about the trains! Did you know that muggle trains are-”

“Sirius, I grew up with muggles, remember?” teased Harry, ruffling his son’s hair. “Left on a doorstep, just like you.” It was true. Kreacher had been woken up one night by the sound of crying on the doorstep. He’d brought the baby inside, and had run for Harry and Draco. No one knew why he’d been left on their doorstep, whether it was because the mother had mistaken the large house as an orphanage, or whether because she thought they were rich and could care for her child was anyone’s guess.

They had reported him to the authorities, muggle and wizard, but no one had come for him. They were going to put him in an orphanage before Harry stepped in, deciding that as no family had come forwards to claim him, he was legally theirs to keep. Adoption papers were signed, and Harry decided to name the child Sirius James Malfoy Potter.

Draco had taken a little convincing. He didn’t know if they were ready to take on the responsibility of a baby, only just turned twenty themselves, and how did they know how it would turn out? What if it was a muggle? They would have to go to muggle school plays and parents evenings and how would they hide their magic?

They had decided together that they wouldn’t pretend not to be wizards, and that if they had to go to parents meetings, Harry would do it. Draco had been delighted when little Sirius had shown his first signs of magic. “What a happy coincidence!” he’d said, whirling round a very confused Sirius.

Then, when Sirius had received his Hogwarts acceptance letter, Harry and Draco took him shopping in Diagon Alley, recounting stories of their first visits. Sirius had been incredibly confused when people kept coming up to his fathers, congratulating them and asking them to sign things.

Draco had been the one to explain it to him. Harry had walked off under the pretext of paying Mr Ollivander a visit. Draco had seen the horror on his little boy’s face as he told him all about the dark wizard named Voldemort, and how Dad’s parent’s had been killed, and together his parents went hunting him down. “Only Dad’s still a little sensitive about it, okay? So be very gentle.” Sirius had nodded his understanding, and given Harry a big hug when he came back.

Now, they were walking down platform ten in Kings Cross station, Sirius refusing to hold onto anyone’s hand, insisting that it would be embarrassing if anyone from Hogwarts saw him, and could Harry and Draco stop holding hands please, because that was equally as embarrassing.

They reached the solid brick wall that concealed the entrance to platform nine and three quarters. Sirius took a shaky breath. “Dad, could we go all together?” he asked, trying to pretend he wasn’t nervous. Draco and Harry grinned at one another, scooching in close to their son before running at the wall.

Sirius couldn’t help but gape at the scene before him. There were kids and crying parents everywhere, and a magnificent scarlet engine stood waiting for them on the tracks. Harry lead them towards George and Angelina, who were stood with their two kids, twins, who were both in their third year at Hogwarts. Sirius stood shyly next to Draco as Harry greeted George and Angelina warmly and mock curtsied to the twins. “Oh, Uncle Harry, we’re far too old for that now!” giggled Rose. Katie nodded at Sirius. “Hi, Sirius. I didn’t realise you were starting this year.”

“Yeah,” said Sirius. “I hope I’m in the same house as you two.”

“You better!” said Rose. “Gryffindor is the best house! Way better than Slytherin, anyway! We’re better at quidditch than they are, and they’re all weird creepy losers!”

“Watch your mouth, Rose,” warned Angelina. “Uncle Draco was in Slytherin.”

“Yeah, and he’s really weird and creepy.” Draco pretended to smack her across the back of the head. “I want to be in Ravenclaw!” said Sirius. “I mean, they’re really smart, right?”

“You can be smart and be in Hufflepuff, you know,” said Katie. “Yeah, I know, but Ravenclaw seems like the best house! My Dad’s friend Luna was in Ravenclaw, and she’s so cool!” Draco rolled his eyes. Cool was not a word he’d use to describe Luna, even grown up Luna the healer, but Sirius really liked her.

The whistle blew before the conversation could go any further, and Katie and Rose pushed Sirius onto the train. Harry and Draco stood together on the platform, not caring less about the looks thrown their way as they waved goodbye to their son.

The platform cleared out pretty quickly after the train had left, but Draco and Harry lingered. They had booked the whole day out of work to see their son off. Kingsley had laughed when they’d asked. “Of course you can have the day off!” he cried. “I’d go myself if I didn’t have work to do. Besides,” he said with a wink, “I can’t have an office full of weepy aurors, can I?”

Draco squeezed Harry’s hand. “He’ll be alright,” he said. “You already killed the basilisk, and the kid has more sense than to go wandering off into the Forbidden Forest.”

“I think he will be in Ravenclaw,” said Harry. “I hope he’s a Slytherin boy myself,” said Draco. “Runs in families.” Harry rolled his eyes. “We’re not his family.”

“Of course we are!” cried Draco. “I think we’ve changed enough nappies, wiped enough snotty noses, and put plasters on enough cuts to earn that title! We’re our own little family, and this is better than I ever thought I’d get.”

“Me too,” sighed Harry. “Me too.”