Mythas Lester congratulated himself as he watched Harry Potter stumble into work that morning. Hermione — the real Hermione — tried to approach him but Harry just shoved her away, heading into his postage stamp sized office. Mythas grinned. Harry looked awful. His hair, usually sticking out at odd angles, stuck to his forehead with sweat, dark bags hung under his eyes, and the best part: he was glowing.

Not enough to be noticed by most people, but Mythas saw it. He saw everything. The way his green eyes slowly changed darker and how his movements were labored. The potion worked. Now all that remained in his plan was to crush Harry's spirit. And to do that, he needed Harry to make a horcrux. Then the next Dark Lord would rise and Mythas would conveniently save the day with a simple potion. Not that anyone needed to know how easily he could best Harry, after all, he had created him.

Rubbing his hands together, he knocked on Potter's office door. "Come in!" Harry snapped, obviously annoyed.

Good, Lester thought as he opened the door.

Harry looked worse in the dim lighting of the small room, piles of folders on either side of him. "What's all this?" Mythas asked as if he didn't already know.

"Ministry is apparently incapable of filing all their Auror cases," Harry's voice came out as a hoarse rasp, sweat dripped from his forehead. "Apparently the only person capable of doing the filing is me."

Mythas sat down on the folding chair across from Harry, nodding to himself. "I just came in to talk about dear old Draco Malfoy."

"What about him?" Harry looked up, bloodshot eyes wide and surprised.

"I found him."

"W-what? How?" Harry jumped up, shaking before falling back into his seat.

Mythas smiled, every fiber of Harry's magical aura was being ripped up and twisted into an unnatural tangle of darkness. The amount of pain he must have, Mythas couldn't fathom. Yet Harry hadn't given in yet. He needed to give in. "He was seen in a park, one with a rather large homeless community. Apparently he's been living under a bridge, pretending to be a Muggle," he let his lip curl for effect, "I already have a plan to take him out."

Harry choked, "What? Take him out?"

"A euphemism for killing him. Obviously. But, there's something I can't tell you," he smirked, "I can't tell you that there is a way to protect Draco from the blast that would inevitably kill him. If there was someone who happened to care enough about him to try and save him, there is a way..."

"How!" Harry jumped up, entire body lighting up for a moment before the magical glow disappeared again.

If only Harry knew that glow was his Light aura dissipating. Mythas smirked as Harry sat back down, holding his forehead and wincing. "Well," Mythas feigned exasperation, "we already have a tracker spell on him, I managed to cast one on him while he was in the park, so no matter where he goes, we will find him. But, if someone could somehow protect him, I don't know with a certain Dark spell that can stop death."

"What spell?" Harry presses, practically jumping in his seat.

"Well, it's more of a ritual. A soul for a soul, so to speak. The person who wanted to save him would have to take a life and channel the little bit of soul broken off into an object—

"A horcrux?" Harry rolled his chair backward, mouth hanging open.

"Yes. If the person gave that bit of soul, shrouded in a protection spell, to Malfoy, when the time came, it would stop him from dying."

Harry sat back in his chair, tapping his chin thoughtfully before saying, "Is there any other way."

Mythas smiled a wide, half sane smile, "No."

-_-_-_-

Harry entered his apartment quietly, seeing Draco sitting on the floor in front of the TV, staring at what appeared to be a tellanovela  in utter fascination. He looked so... different. Knees to his chest, chin on his knees, hugging himself. His white hair, hung loose and Harry could tell his magical core had repaired the choppy ends and all the damage from leaving on the streets. Of course Draco's very magical essence made his hair perfect.

Closing the door, Harry cleared his throat and watched the serene picture disappear. Draco leapt to his feet, turning of the TV before he whirled on Harry. "Why do you keep barging in with no warning! It's improper!" his grey eyes flared in the light as he marched toward Harry, fingers crossed and lip curled.

Some part deep inside Harry melted at the sight, all the pressure in his skull seemed to dissipate as he pulled a very angry Draco into his arms. Draco glared at him and opened his mouth to protest but Harry kissed him before he could. "Mmph," Draco grunted in surprise before kissing back.

Harry cupped his jaw with one hand, placing the other on Draco's back. He decided he liked the feeling of another man against his chest, the broad shoulders matching his own, their hips touching just barely. But mostly, he liked that he was kissing Draco Malfoy. The wizard somehow made all the anger and fury that boiled inside him, evaporate. Harry opened his mouth against Draco's, deepening their kiss before walking them towards the open door of his bedroom. Draco gasped a little as he stumbled backwards, letting Harry slip his tongue inside his mouth.

Harry never felt sparks like this, never desired so intensely for anyone. Not Cho, not Ginny, or that one man at the bar a couple weeks before he rescued Draco. His heart pounded in his ears as their knees collided with the bed, Harry falling on top of Draco. The darkness, which spent so much time roaring like a thundering storm, quieted as Harry straddled Draco's torso, sitting up for a second to pull of his shirt before kissing him again.

Draco groaned against his lips, and Harry could tell he was chuckling, but Harry was busy sliding his hands under the silk dress-shirt Harry bought him, hand running along Draco's smooth skin. "Is this okay?" Harry asked against his mouth.

Draco into the touch of Harry's hands on his torso. "Bloody wanker. Didn't even say hi? Am I just so enticing you just had to have me as soon as you walked in?" Draco sneered.

"Yes," Harry didn't hesitate with his response, their hips hovering millimeters away from each other.

Draco's eyes widened in surprise, but smirked. "In that case," he sat up, pushing Harry back for a second. Draco held a finger to the center of Harry's chest, silently telling him to stay down before he began unbuttoning his shirt, slowly but surely.

He finally took it off and Draco leaned down, staring down at Harry. In turn, Harry leaned up, kissing Draco before grabbing him and rolling them over so Harry was on top.

And he knew.

He already knew the second he saw Draco as he walked in, or the second he kissed him, to the moment they finished and Harry fell beside Draco, pulling the blonde into his arms, looking at that beautiful hair, now messy and in his thin face. Draco seemed like he was about to pull away, but Harry felt his muscles relax against him, eyelids fluttering closed as he let out a minute sigh. It may have been Harry who moved, or maybe part of his imagination, but he could have sworn Draco cuddled closer to him.

In that moment, Harry was sure. Harry was worth killing someone for.

Harry could feel his magic stir inside him.

He knew just who deserved to die.