Part 1:

Harry woke slowly, which, these days was unusual for him, and opened his eyes feeling rested and relaxed. That feeling lasted about three seconds until he realised that he was alone and he sat up with a frown. He remembered falling asleep wrapped in an embrace with Draco, but now his lover was gone, and that annoyed him on several levels. Ready to storm to the bathroom, he moved back the cover on the bed, at which point he found the note stuck to the pillow with a charm that released the moment he touched it.

Harry,
I tried to wake you, but you must have really needed the rest, because all I got was a
grunt for my trouble. Dobby brought the special edition of the Prophet in, which is
what woke me. Seems that the whole paper is full of you, and I mean cover to cover,
from pictures of you as a baby to the pictures their photographer snapped after the
hearing. I had a quick look and left it on the desk for you; I think you may be
pleasantly surprised and I suggest you read it. I'll see you later: send Dobby when
you've finished with the werewolf.
Draco

The annoyance lessened, although it did not go away completely; he had been looking forward to waking up beside a warm body and part of him did not take disappointment well. Climbing out of bed, he stretched leisurely and walked across the room to his desk. The paper was folded in half with the headline and a very large picture of Harry fainting into Remus' arms upwards. To his surprise the words were not a condemnation of what he was and for a moment he stared at it.

"Down But Not Out" he read it over again just to make sure and then picked up the paper to find out what the article with the headline said.

Earlier today Harry Potter made his first public appearance since his heroic defeat of He Who
Must Not Be Named. It could clearly be seen that The Boy Who Lived is still suffering after his
encounter with The Dark Lord. In a later press release the Ministry revealed that after his kidnapping, Harry Potter was subjected to a version of the Crevitemero ceremony in which magic from several dark creatures was forced into his body. The hearing which The Boy Who Lived attended today concluded that he bore no responsibility in this situation and cannot be considered a danger to society. The corruption of Harry Potter failed.

Harry stopped reading and slowly sat down; this was not what he had expected at all. Spreading
the paper out on the desk, he ignored the fact that he was completely naked and just began to read in earnest.

====

"Hello, Remus," Harry greeted as soon as his friend entered the room.

He had finished reading, had a quick bite to eat and then sent the message he was available for
visitors while he dressed. Remus had come straight away and Harry had the craziest urge to wag a tail he did not at the moment possess, and he found himself smiling broadly. The werewolf in him acknowledged the werewolf in Remus and Harry felt completely at ease as Remus smiled back and bowed his head slightly in greeting.

"You're looking much better," Remus said in a warm tone.

That was enough for Harry and he crossed the room and wrapped his ex-professor in a hug. There were few people he felt as close to as Remus anymore; they shared something no one else he knew could understand. The only person he felt closer to was Draco and that was for entirely different reasons.

"Thank you for this morning," he said, so incredibly glad Remus had been there for him.

"You're welcome," Remus said in such a genuine tone that it made Harry's heart hurt. "How are you feeling now?"

"As close to sane as I get these days," Harry replied, leading his friend over to the arm chairs and sofa. "Draco is very good at putting me back together."

Remus sat down with a thoughtful little smile.

"Not a talent I would have ever guessed that young man possessed," was the werewolf's considered opinion. "He always seems so much better at taking things apart."

"He does that too," Harry replied and then remembered who he was talking to and felt himself blushing. At that Remus actually laughed, which was a blessing.

"I think you are showing a lot more of your father these days," Remus said and rather surprised
him; "if I let them he and Sirius would never shut up with the innuendos. Your mum despaired sometimes in polite company."

Harry wasn't sure if it was his dad he was channelling or it was just the fact that he had sex at the front of his mind most of the time, but he had to admit it was a little different from how he had been. He managed a small smile through his embarrassment.

"Did you see the paper?" he asked, deciding that changing the subject would be a good plan before he died of mortification.

"I read it from front to back," Remus replied with a nod; "I was quite astounded."

"Yeah," Harry admitted, glancing at the copy he had on the desk; "me too. I don't think Rita
Skeeter has ever been that nice about me even when she liked me. She even sounded genuine in places."

Remus leant forward a little, catching his gaze directly.

"There were a lot of people in the courtroom today, Harry," Remus said simply; "I think she was being genuine."

That made him stop for a moment; he didn't really understand what Remus was trying to say.

"But they saw how dangerous I am," he pointed out.

It did not make sense that seeing what he had done in court would make people like him; all he'd done was prove how deadly he was.

"Oh Harry, you really don't see it do you?" Remus said, sounding just a little sad. "What have we done to you since you stepped into our world?"

Harry frowned; he still didn't understand.

"They saw you, Harry," Remus told him while looking straight in the eye; "they saw a scared
teenager trying to deal with things no one should ever have to cope with. You are not a monster,
Harry; I wish you could see that. With every day that passes you change, you adapt. You have come so far in such a short space of time."

"But I still can't control myself," he insisted; he really didn't know how people failed to see that. "I do things before I can stop. Look what I did to Ron."

That earned him a very fatherly look from Remus, clearly Remus knew all the details.

"Harry," the werewolf said simply; "you have not killed, drained or seriously injured another human being since destroying Voldemort and his inner circle. That is, quite simply, miraculous."

Harry didn't really know how to respond to that.

"I get the feeling only time is going to prove that to you," Remus said eventually with a sigh when he did not reply. "Shall we pick another topic?"

It was easier to nod than to find a comeback.

"So how are Snape's potions coming?" Remus asked as he gave the affirmative.

Harry just made a face.

"I may have to wave the ban on killing people," he replied grumpily, which made Remus laugh.

"That bad?" Remus asked and Harry made a throwing up motion; experiments were definitely not his favourite thing.

====

Harry was so nervous his hands were shaking. After the hearing the last thing he really needed was more stress, but considering everything that had happened he was hungry and they had had no choice but to move feeding his vampire up by a day. Draco had offered to fill in the gap, but after the strange light show from their encounter earlier Harry had decided that he'd rather face the nerves than endanger his lover, no matter how remote the possibility that there might be something wrong. Harry wanted to know more about what was happening between them before he fed his vampire as well as the incubus from Draco.

Hence Dumbledore had arranged for Ron, Hermione, Neville and Draco to all have dinner in
Harry's room. With his vampire awake and needing to feed Harry could not face normal food, so
he was going to have to feed before they sat down. It had him so on edge that when the door opened the first time he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"We could just nip into the bathroom and deal with this before your friends arrive," Draco said the moment he set eyes on Harry. "I'm sure they wouldn't mind a change in schedule."

"No," he replied rapidly, although the idea did sound very attractive and his voice was no where near as firm as he wanted it to be, "thank you," he added as an afterthought, "I'll be fine."

Draco did not argue any further and walked across the room to place a gentle hand on his arm. It was a welcome gesture of support and Harry gave his lover a small smile of gratitude even though he didn't feel much like smiling at all. What if Hermione hated the experience? What if it
embarrassed her? Ron seemed to have found it appealing, but that didn't mean it would be the
same for everyone. If he hurt Hermione he did not think he would ever be able to look at himself in the mirror again.

"Stop worrying," Draco said and, although his words were short and to the point, his tone was gentle.

It was of course a much easier thing to say than to do and Harry began to fidget with the buttons
on his shirt. After getting up, he'd chosen something more casual than the robes he'd worn to the Ministry and the buttons on the untucked shirt made good worry beads.

"If you keep playing with it, it's going to fall off," was Draco's observation and when Harry looked at his lover, Draco gave him a very suggestive eyebrow wiggle.

Harry's mind was not working at full speed thanks to his nerves, but he picked up the double entendre in that one without problem. Part of him thought it was very inappropriate to be making jokes, but he did not try and stop the bark of a laugh that escaped him. He knew he was being an idiot, since all of the arrangements had been discussed and decided on in great detail and at a logical level he was fully aware that Hermione was fine with the whole arrangement, but that didn't stop his anxiety. At Draco's chiding, he mentally slapped himself around the face and did his best to calm down.

"I can do this," he said, more to himself than Draco, and took a deep breath to steady his nerves.
He still started when the door opened again, which made him swear colourfully under his breath, at which Draco looked rather impressed.

"Didn't know you knew all those big words, Harry," his lover said so that everyone could hear.

"Hey," was Harry's response before he realised that Draco had successfully distracted him from the approach of his other friends.

It didn't take him more than a moment longer to realise that the tension in the room was palpable and for a change it had nothing to do with him. In his anxiety over the upcoming feeding it had totally escaped him that this would be the first time his Gryffindor friends and Draco had been in a social situation together. To the outside observer Draco's stance was casual, but to Harry his lover was radiating tension and he realised he had been being a self-centred git since this had to be difficult for his friends as well.

"Malfoy," Ron greeted in a polite tone.

Harry awarded his best friend points for making the opening move.

"Weasley," Draco replied in kind.

So far it was probably the most polite conversation the two had ever had. It was a bit like watching two cats circle around each other not quite sure whether to be friends or not. Hermione didn't seem to be suffering from the same issues, however, as she stepped forward.

"Hi, Harry," she said cheerfully, "you're looking recovered. Everything okay?"

Then she gave him a small peck on the cheek.

"Much better," Harry replied, beginning to relax already, but not willing to say everything was fine.

"Draco," Hermione continued in just as friendly a manner, "today must have been awful for you too, not being able to come to the Ministry and everything. How are you holding up?"

A momentary expression of shock flicked across Draco's face so fast that, had he not been paying close attention, Harry would have missed it, and was then replaced by a pleasant smile.

"I'm fine, thank you, Hermione," Draco replied, assuming a manner to match Hermione's, "now that I have Harry back in one piece that is."

"You should have seen him," Neville chimed in, "Harry really put Fudge in his place."

"So I heard," Draco said, giving Harry a sideways look and a small smirk.

"He's lucky I didn't rip his bloody head off," Harry responded in a most unrepentant manner.
The only thing Draco was likely to object about his approach was the direct manner in which he had done it; not sneaky enough for a Slytherin's liking.

"Not subtle," Draco observed with a raised eyebrow, "but effective, I suppose. The sooner that
man is forced to retire, the better. Maybe you could turn him into a squib; then he wouldn't qualify as Minister anymore."

Harry would have loved nothing more, except he wasn't sure that if he did it once he'd ever be able to stop.

"I'm just glad that part of me is not hungry," he said, his thoughts turning a little dark.

"Speaking of which," Hermione said with a smile that almost hid her nervousness, "how did you want to do this?"

It was a really good effort, almost Slytherin in its execution, but Harry could still tell that his friend was anxious about what was going to happen. Harry decided that the least he could do was be as strong as she was being and put on a smile.

"The sofa would be the best place," he said, trying to sound nonchalant and managing cheerful, but a little jittery instead; "we probably want to be sitting down for this."

They were both completely aware of the false bravado, no matter what Draco said Gryffindors were not completely oblivious, but it helped a little.

The fact that Hermione had offered to be his first deliberate donor after Draco had both terrified and pleased him. Even though he tended to treat her just like any other friend, he was very aware she was a girl and that made this seem more troublesome somehow. He was sleeping with Draco, which made that situation entirely different and he could write off Ron's comments as mates horsing around, but Hermione was in another bracket in his head. Potential danger aside, he just hoped this wasn't too embarrassing for either of them.

Sitting next to each other on the sofa, Hermione carefully rolled up her sleeve and graciously
offered him her wrist. For a few moments he just sat there as his higher brain attempted to rebel, but he just about managed to force his body to cooperate and reached out to gently hold the offered limb.

"It'll hurt at first," he said, even though he knew Hermione knew all this, "but only for a moment."

Hermione nodded; she probably knew more about vampire bites than he did by now.

Undoubtedly she would have been in the library learning everything there was to learn.

It was funny, sitting there next to one of his two best friends he felt awkward and out of place,
right up until the moment he let his vampire nature rise to the surface. As soon as he did that, all
the human worries slipped to the back of his mind and his attention focused down on the blood
vessels he could see pulsing gently under the pale skin of Hermione's wrist. He would not let
those sensibilities go completely, allowing the vampire to take over totally, not like he had done
that first time with Draco, but it was all so much simpler when one of his alternative natures had the majority of control.

Hermione made a little whimpering sound when he carefully slid his fangs into her flesh, but he let the vampire lead and felt his power wash into his willing victim. It was then she gasped quietly and Harry allowed pleasure to flood both of them as the rich blood hit the back of this throat and he swallowed. He remembered very distinctly how Draco tasted and how Ron tasted and there was something very different about Hermione's blood. It occurred to the part of his brain that was functioning above the feeding level that is was probably because Hermione was female.

It was quite difficult to make himself stop, but he knew when he had had enough and he forced
himself to pull away. He had to drop Hermione's wrist quickly and look away, removing the temptation from his direct line of sight and he took in a very deep breath to make sure he had his vampire under control before he dared look back. There was still residual blood in his mouth, so his fangs would not retract, but he did his best to push the vampire back into a more dormant state.

Hermione, for her part, was sitting there with a vaguely unreadable expression on her face. When she didn't move straight away he began to worry.

"Hermione," he asked carefully, "are you okay?"

His friend looked at him, appearing a little dazed.

"Uh-huh," she said with a small nod and that was the least eloquent he had ever heard her.

"Are you sure?" he checked, since Hermione rarely used words of one syllable, let alone barely sentient noises.

It was then that she smiled at him and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Harry," she said, leaning towards him and patting him on the knee, "let's just say, Ron knew what he was talking about and leave it at that."

Harry felt himself blushing.

"Okay," he said, voice stuttering just a little.

In the back of his mind a little voice wondered aloud if this counted as friends with benefits, but he sat on it hard before it could embarrass him even further.

"Let's have dinner," Draco interrupted his little personal crisis and the tone of his lover's voice made him look round.

He thought he detected just an edge of jealousy in Draco's stance and it made him feel warm in the same way the blood had. It gave him the distinct impression that things would be interesting once  everyone else had gone.

====

After his feeding from Hermione, Harry had found Draco quite insistent about sex, not that Harry
was complaining of course. They had spent a good two hours on the sofa and the bed before actually going to sleep that night. When he thought about it, Harry decided that having sex on the sofa was Draco's way of reclaiming it and him after seeing him feed off someone else and Harry rather liked it; Draco had looked thoroughly debauched and delicious bent double on the couch.

There had been no repeat of the light show either, which made Harry feel a little better about everything.

The next morning he had let Draco go very reluctantly, but part of Draco's terms for release in the school was that he attend lessons normally unless there were extenuating circumstances. Harry wanting to keep him in easy shagging distance was not an extenuating circumstance unfortunately.

That left him alone with nothing to do, so he went back to his research on the creatures that were part of him.

It was mid morning when Jeremy alerted him to his presence by clearing his throat.

"You have a visitor," Jeremy said when he looked up; "Professor Snape."

"Thanks," Harry replied and put his book aside.

The Potions professor appeared as dour as ever as he walked in and Harry had to fight the desire to throw him right out again when he saw what Snape was carrying. The small tray covered with a cloth meant only one thing; Snape had a new potion to test on him.

"Am I going to throw up again?" he asked, doing his very best not to whine since Snape did not react well to whining.

"I believe I may have isolated the cause of the nausea," Snape replied simply, placing the potion on the table; "I have replaced it with an alternative ingredient."

That brightened Harry's outlook considerably; he did not fancy spending the afternoon with his head down the loo.

"It's going to taste horrid though, isn't it," Harry said, approaching warily as Snape removed the cloth.

Snape simply raised an eyebrow at him and did not answer; not that Harry had really expected one.

"If you would please drink the potion, Mr Potter," Snape said and sat down in one of the arm chairs, "I would be most grateful if you would then catalogue how you feel."

It wasn't on his list of favourite things to do, but he mentally reminded himself that Snape was
trying to help him and sat down, reaching for the goblet. The contents smoked gently at him as he picked it up and he didn't even give himself the chance to smell it. Tipping his head back, he
opened his mouth and drank the whole thing down as fast as physically possible and hoped that as little of it as possible came into contact with his taste buds.

"Urgh," he couldn't help his reaction as he put the goblet back down; the taste alone was enough to make someone want to vomit.

At least after a second or so he did not feel the irresistible urge to bring up his breakfast.

"No nausea?" Snape asked shortly.

"Doesn't seem to be," Harry replied, since he didn't think the churning of his stomach because of the flavour counted in Snape's enquiries.

Sitting very still Harry tried to decide if he was feeling any different and he realised he was
definitely feeling happier. He was actually beginning to feel really relaxed and cheerful and he
found himself smiling. This was a lot better than the other two tries; it might even have been working.

"How do you feel, Mr Potter?" Snape asked and he turned to look at the Potions Master, grinning at him.

"I feel great," he said, watching a small pink butterfly emerge from the top of Snape's head.

"Oh dear," was Snape's comment on his response.

He giggled, because the idea of Snape and butterflies was just so ridiculous and then he caught sight of another one from the corner of his eyes and turned to look.

"So pretty," he breathed, watching all the lovely colours.

He had to blink when another vial was thrust in front of his face.

"Please drink this, Mr Potter," Snape said simply.

Harry frowned at the man for that; he didn't want to take anymore nasty potions.

"I'm watching the butterflies," he said and pouted.

Snape just continued looking at him.

"There are no butterflies, Mr Potter," Snape said with a long suffering sigh. "Your pupils are dilated and you are acting like an eleven year old, therefore you are high."

Harry looked around the room; there were lots of butterflies now.

"No butterflies?" he asked, feeling perplexed.

"No, Mr Potter," Snape told him, "no butterflies."

It didn't seem fair that something so pretty wasn't really there.

"Are you sure they're not just invisible to you because they don't like black?" Harry asked in a very serious tone.

Snape closed his eyes and looked pained.

"The vial, Mr Potter," Snape said firmly and opened his eyes again to look directly at him; "drink it."

Harry pouted some more, but at some level he was trained to obey the teachers at Hogwarts and so he took the vial. Knocking it back he made a face; it tasted almost as bad as the other one. The pretty butterflies became decidedly less colourful almost instantly and slowly began to fade and then Harry experienced what it was like to come down off a high; he didn't like it one bit. He actually growled at Snape as his body began to ache and his happy mood completely evaporated.

Snape did not look impressed in the slightest.

"I will return when your mood is more conducive to conversing intelligently," Snape said shortly and picked up his things and walked towards the door.

It was a close thing; Harry only just managed to stop himself saying something he would regret. If nothing else, Snape's visits were helping his control even if it wasn't because of the potions.  

Part 2:

By the middle of the afternoon Harry was in a better mood, but not a great one and he was reading a Quidditch magazine, because he couldn't concentrate on anything else. It probably wasn't the wisest choice given the fact that the article he was reading was putting down one of his favourite players with all sorts of incorrect facts and it was pissing him off even more, but at least it was distracting him. He was, however, just about ready to rip the thing in half when something dragged his attention away from it. It was a strange feeling and he wasn't sure what had startled him out of reading, so he sat there, looking around the room to see if he could see anything.

He was alone, totally and completely alone; Jeremy was not even in his frame, but something had definitely disturbed him. Anger stirred in the pit of his belly, but it felt remote, not really real
somehow. He was very familiar with how angry he could become in a very short space of time
and this was not the same sensation at all. For some reason his mind had him thinking of Draco, only it wasn't distracting him from what was catching his attention. It took him a little while to put the two things together and then it suddenly began to make sense; the anger was coming from Draco.

It was new and he did not understand how he knew, but he did and he stood up, throwing the magazine down and marching towards the entrance.

"Let me out," he demanded as soon as he reached the portrait.

For a while there was no response and then Jeremy stepped into his frame.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Jeremy said in his usual polite tones, "but I can't do that."

"Let me out," he literally growled at the painting. His perception of the room changed, growing brighter and he felt several of his less human traits rise to the surface.

"I am not permitted to do that," Jeremy replied simply.

Harry's patience snapped and he swiped at the portrait, vicious claws ripping through the canvas as Jeremy darted out of the way.

"I need to get out," he snarled, claws just bouncing off the magically reinforced wood as he moved on to the door.

Something was making Draco angry, very angry, and there was just a touch of fear as well and

Harry wanted to get to his lover. The fact that letting him out of the Room of Requirements to run free through Hogwarts would be dangerous to the other students was about the farthest thing from his mind; he wanted out and that was that. Acting on instinct rather than thought, he pushed at the door, trying to go through it as he had done at the manor, but the wards forced him back. His prison would not let him out and that made him angry. He hit the door hard, making it shake in its frame, but it was not just wood in his way and it did not budge. The dark oak stayed firmly in place even as he threw all of his weight against it, using demonic strength and dark magic to try and get through.

The more he tried, the more it repelled him and the angrier he became until he all but screamed his fury at it, finally turning away and picking up the first thing within reach. It was one of the chairs and he lifted it above his head, hurling it at the door. He threw it with such force it splintered and folded in on itself, crumpling and falling to the floor. There wasn't even a scratch on the door where it had hit and in that moment Harry hated his prison, hated being kept in and he set about destroying everything he could find.

The furniture didn't stand a chance and after he had finished wrecking it he used bits of it to
destroy the fake windows. The only things he couldn't rend to pieces were the books; when he
tried to take them off the shelves his hands passed straight through them and it was only that which began to bring him back to reality. He was breathing hard and swiped at the books several times, but they refused to come into being as they usually did and eventually it finally dawned on him that they weren't going to, not while he intended to destroy them. It was enough to make him drag back just a little of his self control and he surveyed the devastation around him. Nothing had been spared, not the bed, not the small coffee table, not a single one of the windows and he was reminded of the room in Malfoy Manor and he slowly sat down on the floor.

He was still angry, but the feeling from Draco was gone and with it went his impetus. That was
when he felt the first stirrings of guilt and he probably would have wallowed if he hadn't seen the two-seater sofa he had ripped apart putting itself back together. The room was repairing itself and he barely managed to stop himself rising to his feet to fight the inevitable. Only later did he realise how ridiculous it was to resent the room for not staying broken longer.

====

The way the purple and red of Dumbledore's robe pulled the eye from anything else in the room
immediately grated on Harry's nerves. It had been a very long day, what with Snape's visit in the
morning to try another potion, and Draco being in detention all afternoon for fighting, so Harry was tired and irritable. It turned out Draco had been confronted by some nameless Gryffindors and there had been a small fight, at least that's what Dobby had told him after Draco had somehow managed to send the house elf with a message. Harry didn't know the details, but then that was probably better for all concerned. The snit fit he had thrown when he realised something was going on with Draco, not that he understood how he had known, hadn't helped in the slightest and the room was still repairing the windows, since it seemed to consider those the least important.

The magic in the room was not infinite as it sometimes seemed and Harry was pretty sure that there had been a lot flowing around to keep him in.

"Good evening, Harry," Dumbledore greeted with a smile.

The headmaster's eyes flicked around the room, taking in the obvious damage, before shifting back to Harry as the old wizard walked towards him as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

"I assume you are aware that there was a regrettable incident with Mr Malfoy this afternoon," the headmaster said, conjuring himself a chair as usual.

Harry just growled a response, since he had no doubts that the magical reverberations of what he had done would have been obvious to Dumbledore. Hogwarts communicated with the headmaster on a level Harry did not quite understand and he was sure the Room of Requirements would have reported what was going on inside. Dumbledore gave him a pleasant smile for his efforts.

"I believe the sooner the relationship between you and he is revealed to the school population the better it will be for everyone," the headmaster chatted cheerfully, "although I do not believe you are in any mood to discuss that at this moment."

The old man patted the chair next to him which had just appeared out of thin air.
"Come and sit down, My Boy," Dumbledore invited agreeably; "I need to have a small discussion with you about returning to your lessons tomorrow."

The statement so shocked Harry that he forgot completely how annoyed his was and actually did as he was bidden. If the way he had reacted this afternoon was anything to go by he was definitely not safe to enter the general school population yet.

"Now I don't believe the stress of being among the other pupils will be good for you just yet," the
headmaster continued, which in Harry's opinion was a nice way of saying that it would be better

to avoid him killing any of his classmates, "so other arrangements will be made. I apologise that it has taken so long, but it took longer than I anticipated to set up the network of surveillance globes and communication mirrors."

Harry had no idea what Dumbledore was talking about; sometimes the headmaster spoke as if he was living in a different universe from the rest of mankind.

"Surveillance globes?" he asked.

Dumbledore smiled and patted him on the hand.

"So you can see what is occurring in the classroom," the headmaster explained patiently. "Each
classroom where your lessons take place has been fitted out with a small globe that will allow a
communication mirror to show an image of what is occurring in that location; the mirror will be installed in here later this evening if you are agreeable."

Harry nodded; it was not as if he was returning to normal, but it was a good step.

"The mirror is full length, but there are matching smaller mirrors on each teacher's desk as well," Dumbledore continued his explanation. "This will allow them to see you and for you to interact with the class should you wish to ask questions or answer any of the Professors' enquiries."

This revelation brought a frown to Harry's face; he was not sure he liked the idea that someone would be able to see into his room when they felt like it.

"Do not worry, Harry," the headmaster said as if he knew exactly what he was thinking, "the
mirror will only be active for the class in session, and you will have ultimate control over it. I do,
however, think it would be a good idea to start easing you back into the school routine. There are only a few weeks left of term, but this is a very important year for you, and the fewer lessons you miss the better."

Harry nodded again, since it wasn't as if he had anything useful to say. Dumbledore was right and a routine might be just what he needed.

"How will I do things like potions?" he asked as the logistics of the situations began to form in his mind.

He hoped that he would not be expected to just do theory, because there was nothing more deadly.

"Good point, Harry," the headmaster said with a smile. "I have arranged for the house elves to
deliver any supplies you will require for a day's lessons on the morning of that lesson. The room
can provide a desk and most equipment you will need, but potions' ingredients and items for your transfigurations practicals will need to be brought to you."

It sounded as if Dumbledore had everything worked out, but then Harry had expected no less. If
Albus Dumbledore was ever not a step ahead of the rest of the universe the world would stop spinning.

"Would you like tea?" Harry said, suddenly remembering his manners and feeling much better than he had when the headmaster had walked in.

"That would be lovely, My Boy," Dumbledore replied cheerfully, "thank you."

Pulling out his wand, Harry tapped it on the side of the chair and muttered a quick spell. Dobby appeared with a small pop almost instantly.

"Harry Potter," the house elf greeted brightly, "what can Dobby be doing for you this evening?"

"Tea please, Dobby," Harry requested politely, "for two."

"Right away, Harry Potter, Sir," Dobby said in a delighted manner and disappeared again.

When he turned back, the headmaster was looking at him appraisingly.

"I was not aware you knew that spell, Harry," Dumbledore said with a slight nod of his head, "we do not usually teach it to students."

Harry could not help the slightly smug smile that graced his features then.

"No," he said lightly, "I can imagine not. It would be chaos if everyone could just summon a house elf when they felt like it; nothing would ever get done."

The curiosity was there plainly in the headmaster's eyes and Harry enjoyed being one up for just a few moments.

"Draco taught it to me," he explained with a grin. "He was fed up of me yelling for Dobby whenever I needed something. His exacts words were 'here, do it the civilised way'."

That caused Dumbledore to smile broadly.

"Ah, yes, I should have realised," was the headmaster's conclusion. "Speaking of Mr Malfoy, I believe his detention will be ending shortly, so I shall not keep you too much longer."

Dobby reappeared with two tea cups, a large teapot and a plate full of biscuits. Almost without thinking about it, Harry caused a small table to appear in front of the laden elf.

"Thank you, Dobby," he said politely, as the house elf placed his burden on the table.

"Anything for Harry Potter, Sir," Dobby said with a toothy grin and vanished again.

Harry poured to cover the fact that the images that had popped into his head the moment Professor Dumbledore mentioned Draco finishing his detention were rather less than innocent and then he passed the first cup to the headmaster. The twinkle in the old man's eyes was more evident than ever and as usual Harry felt as if he was an open book.

"Now, My Boy," Dumbledore said, as Harry picked up his own cup, "back to the subject at hand.
During lessons you will be expected to behave as any other student: be at your desk on time; wear your uniform; refrain from disrupting the class."

Harry nodded automatically, but he could not help a glance as the slowly repairing destruction he had caused earlier that day.

"Of course," the headmaster continued, "with your unique condition we cannot expect you to be
entirely even tempered. You will be subject to the normal house point system, however, should
you feel the need to express your anger it is requested that you withdraw from the lesson. All members of staff have been prepared for such an occurrence and should you disappear suddenly from a lesson you will not be penalised. I am trusting that you will not abuse the privilege."

Another nod; he was not about to argue with that. Harry had no intention of using the way out unless he really had to, but he could not say that he would never need it. The sooner he learned to control his temper the better, but it wasn't going to happen overnight.

"I'm sorry you've had to go to all this trouble," he said, feeling guilty about all the fuss he was causing.

"Nonsense, Harry," Dumbledore told him with a warm smile; "it is no more than you deserve. I
do not believe you quite understand the service you have done for all of us. Without you darkness would be spreading across our world."

Praise was never something Harry had been particularly comfortable with, it always embarrassed him and he bowed his head, feeling awkward. Thinking about Voldemort was also not good for his equilibrium and it reminded him of something the edition of the Prophet had skimmed over.

"What happened to Pettigrew?" he asked, deciding that he would rather focus on that than Voldemort.

Dumbledore appeared somewhat surprised by his question, but did not skirt around it.

"Peter has been taken to St Mungo's," the headmaster told him openly; "he is not in his right mind at the moment and is suffering from some form of magical damage. They believe he might in fact be a squib now."

That alarmed Harry somewhat, because there was only one place he could see where Wormtail's magic could have gone.

"Did I?" he asked, needing to know, but not quite able to ask the whole question.

"Render him safe?" Dumbledore replied, which had not been quite the way Harry would have put it. "Yes, I believe that may be a reasonable analysis of the situation, but the point is moot; Peter will never again be allowed a wand. Once he has recovered sufficiently he will be tried and placed in Azkaban. Given his crimes, he may very well be given the Dementor's kiss, after all he did singlehandedly engineer the return of Voldemort."

It was ironic that the Magical world would do to Wormtail what Fudge had tried to condemn him
for, but it gave Harry a small sense of satisfaction. He didn't like to think of himself as vindictive, but Wormtail had effectively taken everything from him: his parents; Sirius; and now his humanity by returning Voldemort to his full power. If anyone deserved to be punished it was him.

"I hope he rots," he said simply, not even trying to hide what he was feeling.

Dumbledore smiled a little sadly at that.

"Although it pains me to see the loss of any wizard to the Light," the headmaster said with a nod,
"I cannot find it in my heart to forgive Peter for what he has done. He has caused our whole world, and especially you, My Boy, far too much pain and suffering."

Given Dumbledore's penchant for saving everyone, that meant a lot to Harry.

"Will I be able to make up the work I've missed?" he asked, deciding to change the subject completely; he no longer wanted to think about Pettigrew.

====

After Dumbledore had finished his visit Draco had arrived and Harry had spent most of the
evening making sure his lover was very much whole and unharmed. Some of his techniques for doing so involved making sure Draco was completely mobile and as responsive as before, at least that's what he told Draco and then Draco had laughed at him for about half an hour. He couldn't help it if his thoughts were completely one track sometimes; the vampire and the incubus seemed to be the two creatures that had the greatest sway over his behaviour and Draco was nothing if not very attractive. They had actually had some sleep eventually and Draco had left early, needing to be seen in his house common room as if he was actually living there. Since the full, fabricated story about them having been boyfriends since the end of sixth year and lovers since Harry's change had not yet been released, appearances had to be maintained. Harry had spent most of the rest of the time before school pacing. He was very glad that his first scheduled lesson was Transfiguration, but he was still a complete wreck of nerves. It was ridiculous really, since the only one who would be able to see him was Professor McGonagall, but it felt as if he was walking into the lion's den. Straightening his robes, he sat down at his desk and looked at the mirror where it stood a few feet away. It felt very strange to be back in uniform and he had to try very hard not to fidget. Nothing felt normal anymore, but he was willing to try and fake it.

"Transfigurations classroom," he said eventually when he had all his courage balled up into something usable.

The mirror instantly displayed the interior of Professor McGonagall's domain and Harry was quite surprised by how much he could see. It was not like looking into the Mirror of Erised where he could only see an image; it was more like looking through an opening into the room rather than at a flat surface, he could even smell the classroom. As he turned his head, his view moved as well so that he could look around and he experimented for a little while. It must have taken some complicated spells to set up the connection and he was impressed with the sophistication of the devices. He wondered absently what Professor McGonagall would see when she looked into her desktop mirror, but it was rather pointless and he put it aside as he heard the classroom door opening.

The chatter that surrounded him as the rest of the class made their way to their seats almost made him feel as if he was actually in the room. His nerves were still raw, but he found himself relaxing, at least partially.

"Welcome, class," Professor McGonagall said as she strode in from the back of the room and
Harry turned so that he could see her walking, "today we will be starting on the theory of the
Animagus transformation. Although you will not be expected to learn the actual transformation, you will be expected to understand why and how it may be achieved for your exams."

Harry was graced with a small smile as the woman reached her usual teaching spot behind her desk and looked at him through the mirror.

"Yes, Mr Malfoy," Professor McGonagall said and Harry could not help turning his head to look.
Draco was sat towards the front of the class next to Pansy and was as immaculately turned out as ever. Harry had to sit on his sudden desire to attempt to step through the mirror as his more possessive nature decided to make itself known. Sitting through Transfiguration with a hard-on for his lover was not Harry's idea of fun, but he was rapidly coming to the conclusion that that was what he might have to do. If it was always going to be like this, he was not sure he'd ever pass his N.E.W.T.s.

"Would it be possible to arrange for extra tuition in the area if we find we have an aptitude for it, please, Professor?" it seemed that Draco could be remarkably polite if he set his mind to it.

"We shall have to see, Mr Malfoy," Professor McGonagall replied, but her tone was no where
near as harsh as Harry had heard it in the past when dealing with Slytherins. "This is a very
difficult area of study, but if any of you show serious promise and dedication I may be able to assist you in your goals."

Draco gave a polite nod of his head at the reply. It was such a difference from the spoilt brat most of the school had come to know and love that Harry almost laughed. He stopped himself just in time, remembering that Professor McGonagall would be able to hear him.

"There are special books for this section of the course," the woman continued, indicating the pile of tomes on her desk, "and they will not leave this classroom. They are restricted reading material and you will sign out one between two whenever you come to this lesson and sign it back in at the end. All homework on the subject will be done here at pre-arranged times."

Harry looked at the book on his desk, which had been delivered by a house elf that morning, and realised that he was being given a privilege to have it. He took hold of it and ran his fingers over the gold lettering on the cover as the others were handed out in the classroom.

"Before we open our text books," Professor McGonagall's voice brought him back to the present,

"can anyone tell me the three stages of the Animagus transformation?"

The answer leapt into Harry's head, since this was a subject close to his heart. He almost didn't put up his hand, since he did not really want anyone to remember he was there, but then he realised he was going to have to interact at some point and so he dipped into the famous Gryffindor courage and lifted his arm.

"Mr Potter," Professor McGonagall said and he could tell from the look in her eyes that she was pleased he was taking part, "please enlighten us."

His name caused a ripple of sound to move around the classroom, and he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, but a stern look from McGonagall silenced the rest of the room and he relaxed again.

"Meditation, realisation and transformation," he said in as steady a voice as he could manage.

His tone was deeper than his normal speaking voice because of the nerves and the fact that not all of his other aspects were completely asleep, but at least he sounded human.

"Very good," Professor McGonagall said with a smile, "five points to Gryffindor. Mr Potter is
perfectly correct. The first stage is meditation and can take from between four and twelve months to achieve. It is the stage where you would learn to feel your animal, but not perceive it
completely. This is the time where a person finds out if they are capable of the transformation at
all. It takes a great deal of concentration and hard work to find your animal to begin with. The
second stage is realisation where the feel of your animal is translated into recognition of what it
actually is. This is by far the longest stage of the process and the fastest on record was thirteen months, however, no one who has registered their success at the first stage has ever failed at this point. Of course the third stage is the most dangerous when you combine the Animagus spell into yourself and use it to channel your form into that of your animal. Several fully trained wizards have died at this point throughout history when they failed to cast the spell correctly."

Harry couldn't help wondering how long his father had taken to learn the Animagus
transformation; he had a feeling it had been nowhere near that long. Of course he doubted that the marauders had worried about all the safety measures involved either, which would have undoubtedly sped up the process.

With her ominous warning given, the professor turned to her copy of the text book and flicked it open.

"Please look at page 24," she said in her usual efficient tone; "today we will be discussing the theory behind finding your animal."

Harry dutifully turned to the right page and tried heroically to ignore that half his brain was still trying to decide exactly how to ravish Draco as soon as physically possible.

Everything was fine as Harry copied down the notes Professor McGonagall put on the board and
listened to the discussion going on in the room; that was until towards the end when he glanced
around the room. Pansy was leaning against Draco pretending to read something from the book
they were sharing, but every instinct in Harry said she was doing nothing of the sort. Draco for his part was ignoring her, but that was not the point. Everything came into sharp focus as Harry
glared at Pansy even though at a logical level he knew she couldn't see him. The smell of pheromones alone, that the girl was giving off, were enough to make him want to rip her head off.

He stood up before he could stop himself as his incubus failed to comprehend that there was no
way he could get to Pansy anyway. That someone else was touching what was his in that way was unthinkable to him and he wanted to snarl and attack.

"Off," he managed to growl out before he lost it completely and the view in the mirror disappeared.

The little whore had been rubbing herself against his Draco and part of Harry wanted to rend her
limb from limb. It was so strong that he almost lost it and totalled his desk in his fury, but he just about managed to hold it in and dragged himself to the bathroom instead. After dunking his head in a basin of cold water, he felt together enough to look at himself in the mirror, but even as he did so he could still see the glow in his eyes. His incubus was very annoyed and he knew he was not going to be able to rejoin the lesson any time soon.

It took him fifteen minutes and three dunks in the basin before he decided he was ready to return to the other room. He was still not calm enough to activate the mirror again, but he was in a state of mind to at least think. He picked up a piece of parchment and his quill, quickly scribbling down a note:

Professor McGonagall,
I'm sorry for leaving so abruptly, but I saw something which set off my incubus. I did not wish to
disrupt your lesson so I cut the connection. If you would not mind sending a note with the
homework assignment I would be very grateful.
Thanks,

Harry

With a quick flick of his wand he summoned Dobby and sent the elf off with the message. He was glad that he had a free period next, because he needed the time to put himself in the right mindset for Charms. He was surprised when Dobby returned in under ten minutes with two sheets of parchment.

"Professor McGonagall is asking Dobby to deliver these, Harry Potter, Sir," the elf said and held out both sheets.

"Thank you, Dobby," Harry replied in as calm a tone as he could manage, "you may go now."

The elf vanished with a small bow. Harry looked at the first sheet and was surprised to see a note back rather than the homework assignment.

Mr Potter,
Thank you for the apology, but it was unnecessary. For a first time back in the classroom I believe you managed remarkably well. Rest assured I also noticed the situation with Miss Parkinson; most unbecoming of a young lady. I have assigned both of them to new partners to prevent it happening again.
Miss Granger has offered to share her notes for the few minutes you missed and I have enclosed
the homework assignment. I will see you again later in the week.
Yours,

Minerva McGonagall

Harry felt some of the tension leaving him and he had to smile at least a little bit; he could just
imagine what Professor McGonagall would have said to Pansy. It was not a complete solution,
because Draco was still out there and so was Pansy, but it was better than nothing. His incubus was still annoyed, but he was better able to control it now.

====

The moment Draco stepped through the door Harry reacted, He moved so fast even he could
barely follow it and he had Draco pushed up against the wall in seconds. Given how he was
feeling he was strangely careful, but that didn't stop him burying his nose in Draco's uniform.

There was no smell of Pansy, which appeased him a little.

"I showered in my free period," Draco said, smiling just slightly; "I didn't want to smell of the silly
cow either. She still seems to think I'm interested and no doesn't seem to be in her vocabulary;
does give me an excuse to have some nasty hexes on my door though. Dobby was very happy to help."

Harry smiled at the mental image that gave him; Pansy sprawled unconscious in the corridor covered in boils would have been nice and he didn't think Dobby would have allowed them to be that bad, but imagining it settled his nerves.

"So," Draco said, when he didn't move, "are we eating or are you the only one taking sustenance today?"

That made Harry feel a little guilty, it really did, and he considered ordering up some food for
lunch, but his incubus had been riled and he really needed to reaffirm that Draco was his. He managed to step back, but that was about as far as he got, which made Draco laugh.

"Gryffindors," was Draco's comment, and then Draco leant forward and kissed him. "Dobby has promised to bring me a sandwich before my next lesson; so you can stop worrying."

"Bastard," is what Harry replied as he realised Draco had been winding him up.

"Always," Draco replied with an unrepentant grin, "I am also not stupid. It does not take someone of my significant mental agility to realise what Pansy's deplorable behaviour would have done to you and ..."

When Draco paused Harry almost leant in to steal another kiss, but Draco did it for him.

"...I wanted to reward you for how well you've done today already," Draco told him.

Harry liked that idea, he liked it a lot, which was why he growled his displeasure when Draco batted away his hand as he reached out to take what was on offer.

"Draco," he said, voice taking on just an edge of power.

"I am not teasing you," Draco replied simply and perfectly openly, probably the only way to make Harry listen, "but I want to ease you into the idea of letting me have my way occasionally."

Incubus power stirred under his skin at that and Harry was not sure he liked what he was hearing.

"This isn't a good idea," he said, knowing that he had asked a great deal of himself that morning already.

"Which is why it's not going to be difficult," Draco said, taking his hand and walking towards the bed; "but you are going to have to learn you can't just have me instantly sometimes."

"Not today," Harry said, bringing them to a halt by just stopping and holding on Draco's hand firmly.

At that Draco acquiesced a little and moved closer to him, holding his face gently with his free hand and kissing him softly.

"You had me last night," Draco reminded him quietly, placing small kisses on his face, "and you will undoubtedly want me again tonight, so I am asking you, for now, to please try. For me?"

It was a very Slytherin attack; it was not demanding and it went straight to Harry's heart. He knew Draco was playing to his weaknesses, but he couldn't do anything about it; didn't really want to in fact.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked, not quite agreeing.

"I want you to stay right here," Draco told him, already releasing the buttons on his own shirt, "for as long as you can while I go over there," his lover indicated the bed, "and prepare myself for you on full display."

Harry's cock had started paying attention the moment Draco had walked into the room, but it gave a very intense throb at the idea those words conjured up.

"I'm going to strip," Draco told him, slowly walking backwards away from him, "and then I'm
going to climb onto the bed and spread myself wide for you with my fingers. All you have to do is watch."

That might have caused Harry to tremble just a little, but he was admitting to nothing.

"You can take your clothes off if you like, so that you don't spoil them when you finally can't take
it anymore," Draco suggested as he very slowly removed one item of clothing after another.

Harry wasn't really aware as he did the same thing; his whole focus was on Draco and his clothes ended up somewhere on the floor without him taking any notice of where. Draco was beautiful, all pale skin and almost delicate bone structure, but with a wiry strength that Harry had felt in his arms. There was muscle under the sun-shy flesh, even though Draco had been locked up for months and Harry realised then that Draco had never given up. All that time Draco had kept himself fit somehow and it gave him another reason to admire the Slytherin. His feelings about Draco were very much mixed up and he wasn't quite sure what they meant, but he was well aware he could neither survive, nor wanted to, without Draco there.

Draco had pulled something from his pocket before taking all his clothes off and Harry realised
what it was as Draco climbed onto the bed; it was a small jar of lubrication. Harry bit his lip in anticipation, feeling his incubus nature stirring restlessly as he tried to keep it under control.

"You have such intense eyes," Draco said, draping himself on the bed and languidly stroking his cock with one hand; "I can almost feel your gaze when you look at me."

Their relationship was hard to define, but there was no doubt in Harry's mind that Draco was fully committed as well, if nothing else he was always interested in sex as much as Harry was. Draco's cock was already proud and full in his hand and Harry had to tear his eyes away from it before he forgot what he was supposed to be doing. Talking was not high on his list of things to do, so he did not reply to Draco's observation.

"You make my skin prickle when you stare at me," Draco told him, lifting one of his legs and taking up a position on the bed that allowed Harry to see everything.

He so wanted to move forward and touch, to feel that warm flesh surround him as he pushed
inside, but he dug his nails into his palms and stood his ground. Draco was his, no one else's and
he needed to reaffirm that, but Draco had helped by removing any trace of another claim on him
and Draco was showing him everything. It allowed him to exert at least a modicum of control over himself.

Draco took the jar he had brought with him, not something they usually needed thanks to Harry unique anatomy, and opened it, dipping his fingers in and smiling as he did so. This show was for him, Harry knew it, and he could tell Draco had planned it all out in that blond Slytherin head of his. These days Draco seemed to have a better idea of what went on in his brain than he did, so he was not about to argue. As he watched Draco carefully spread himself and then ever so slowly push two fingers into his own body, Harry's breathing sped up considerably. With the amount of sex they were having he doubted Draco needed much preparation, but he knew that tight heat well and could almost feel how his lover would have slightly tightened at the first intrusion. No matter how under control Draco had himself, his muscles always clenched just a little at that first incursion inside.

"I can feel your need, Harry," Draco told him, breath catching slightly as he moved his fingers slowly in and out of himself; "it runs through me too; I've been feeling it all morning."

That was new; he was well aware that he could make Draco want him with his magic, had done that first night, but they hadn't been in close proximity since breakfast. The section of his brain that was still capable of logical thought realised this was significant, just like the way he had sensed Draco the previous day, and he filed away the information for another time. When Draco pushed his fingers in deep and made a quiet little mewing sound, he knew exactly what spot Draco was touching and it wiped away most of his sensible thought. He couldn't stop it anymore and he let the incubus rise to the surface, feeling his body change and his need become an almost palpable thing.

"Merlin you're beautiful," Draco said, eyes roaming over him and gaze heavy, and Harry took that as permission to move.

He kept himself in check, just about, and walked over, climbing onto the bed with measured
movements. Draco didn't stop what he was doing, lying there, moving his fingers in and out as
Harry loomed over him. It literally made Harry growl low in his throat, a very possessive, appreciative sound, and only then did Draco carefully pull his fingers out, spreading his legs either side of Harry, very deliberately inviting him in. Leaning down, he nipped gently at Draco's lips, just to prove he was still in control, and then he hooked his hands under Draco's thighs and lifted them. It opened Draco to him completely and it took no effort at all to line up and slowly push inside.

Draco put his head back and let out the most wonderful needy sound that Harry had ever heard as Harry slid all the way home. They moved together so easily now, as if they had been lovers for
years not weeks and, even with the incubus driving him, Harry cared as much about Draco's needs as he did his own. It meant something, he knew it did, and he could feel so many needs and desires and emotions running around inside him, but they refused to resolve into anything that made sense.

As he slowly pulled out and thrust their bodies together once again, he knew this was not just sex anymore, but he did not know what else to call it. It was almost more confusing than everything else that had been happening to him. His darker thoughts whispered of ownership and control and power, but those weren't his only ideas and he started up a careful rhythm as they flew around his mind.

Lunch was only an hour; they didn't have a lot of time for long drawn out sex, so Harry pushed
aside his deeper ponderings and allowed the incubus free reign. His instincts knew what was
good, what would make Draco pant and moan and buck underneath him, and the more Draco
enjoyed it, the more he did. His magic could force Draco to come apart of course, but it was so much better when he didn't need it; when Draco's reactions were all natural.

"Tell me who you belong to," he whispered as Draco writhed under his touch.

Draco just moaned.

"Tell me," Harry demanded, stilling his hand for a moment where he was also stroking Draco's cock. Draco's whine was completely desperate and Harry fisted his cock hard, making him gasp and try and twist away.

"I'm yours," Draco cried out as Harry thrust into him balls deep, "oh god, I'm yours."

Draco was so close to the edge that all it took was another couple of strokes of his cock and Draco was coming with a needy, shuddering moan and Harry drank in every facet of the moment. His own orgasm, triggered by the influx of sexual energy and magic, was secondary to what he felt coming from Draco and the way everything settled into being right again with Draco's declaration.

He was sated and satisfied and he felt balanced again.

Part 3:

Being back in lessons was harder for Harry than even he had expected. It took a lot to keep himself under control and by the time evening came along he had found himself surprisingly tired.

He was hungry for more than just food and he had been kind of glad, but also nervous about the
fact it was Nev's turn to donate to the cause. Everyone was there like the time before and the atmosphere was actually friendlier than the previous meeting of all his friends; it seemed they were all relaxing around each other. Of course that only went a certain way to settle Harry's nerves.

When he withdrew his fangs from Nev's wrist, he was rather worried by his friend's expression;
he couldn't tell what Nev was thinking at all. Nev had become his rock; the solid friend who wasn't always vocal and wasn't always there with good advice, but who could always be counted on for support, and he dreaded having done something that would unsteady that rock. After Hermione's dazed response, he had expected Nev to take a little while to gather himself, but Nev was just sitting there.

"Why do they never tell us this stuff in DADA?" Nev asked, suddenly exploding into motion and
throwing his arms into the air in an expression of exasperation. "The Ministry needs beating for their PG rated curriculum."

For a moment there was stunned silence and then Draco was the first to laugh, followed quickly by Hermione and then Ron and Harry managed a smile while blushing madly.

"Longbottom," Draco said and slapped Nev on the shoulder, "I never thought I'd say this, but I'm really beginning to like you."

The way Nev smiled at that had Harry feeling very warm inside; he had never thought he'd hear
that either. A Longbottom and a Malfoy, friends: the world was probably about to grind to a halt or something.

"Talking of the Ministry and their fallibility," Hermione said, picking up the glass of butterbeer she had placed on the table earlier, "how is your plan coming along?"

"We're almost there," Harry said, happy to jump into a topic which didn't cause him hideous
embarrassment; "Draco insists that we work out a few more dates before we can move forward though."

Draco made an agreeing noise to that and sat down on the sofa next to him as Nev moved to one of the other seats; Harry hadn't been the only one to notice Draco's reaction to him feeding off other people it seemed.

"If the Ministry choose to question us I want to make sure our story is airtight," Draco said simply.

"The idiots will probably want a complete list of what we did and when, no matter how personal."

Hermione nodded, clearly showing her displeasure at the Ministry's idiocy.

"I agree," Harry quickly backed up his lover, "but I can't help wanting to get this all over with so you can have your wand back. I'll feel better when you can defend yourself."

He was very unhappy that Draco was having to rely on Crabbe and Goyle, especially when the two could not be with his lover all the time.

"There won't be any more trouble from the Gryffindors," Ron said in a very firm tone that had Harry looking at him.

"What ... you ..?" he asked, not actually sure what Ron might have done.

"We had a word," Hermione told him in a reassuring tone; "told them that you were trying to put
everything behind you and the rest of us should set an example as well. Ron gave a lovely speech."

"I even called myself an idiot for that incident right at the beginning," Ron said, smiling sheepishly. "I think they got the message."

"And we'll keep an eye on them to make sure," Nev added resolutely.

Harry's heart almost burst with pride: he loved his friends, he really did.

"You're all the best," he said, feeling just a little bit emotional.

It was nice to have to deal with controlling a happy emotion for once.

"Awww," was Draco's comment on his reaction, for which he elbowed his lover in the side.

It made the others laugh, which stopped the moment becoming awkward, so he didn't really mind.

"I think Fudge needs to go," Nev said as they all began to relax again; "how is he still Minister?"

"Seconded," Hermione said with the certainty of one who knew idiocy when she saw it.

Given Hermione's usual attitude to authority, her resolution said a great deal.

"He is a constant in a world that has been changing so much," Draco said in a philosophical tone; "people need constants, even moronic ones."

"I've had enough of him," Harry said simply.

There were some things Harry could look at as part of a bigger picture, even if it wasn't the picture he had seen, but there were some things he couldn't; Peter Pettigrew was the final straw. He felt the nastier elements of his personality stirring just at the thought. Tearing Fudge limb from limb was a really good thought, even if it would be more trouble than it was worth.

"While I think what's going through your head might be more fun," Draco said smoothly and
Harry realised what he was thinking appeared to be written all over his face, "there are undoubtedly more subtle methods to remove the moron from office."

"We could always give Harry an alibi," Ron offered helpfully.

That settled it; he was definitely being very obvious indeed, because he was being teased. It was a bit baffling that his violent urges had gone from something to be afraid of to a source of cannon fodder, but he refused to be repentant.

"But can you imagine how disappointed Dumbledore would be?" Hermione added innocently.

"Okay, okay," Harry said, holding his hands up in surrender; "I promise to try not to kill him, but he still needs to go."

Draco patted him fondly on the knee and smiled at him.

"I think we might be able to work that into the plan, given some more time," his lover told him and he could see the wheels whirring behind Draco's eyes already.

When he glanced around, Ron had his brow furrowed in thought, Hermione's eyes were narrowed a little and Nev looked like he had done in almost every Potions lesson of his life: Fudge didn't stand a chance.

====

For once life actually carried on quietly. The headmaster had information that dealing with Draco's prosecution was being delayed by Fudge for political reasons, but for once that played into their hands, because it gave them more time to finalise their plan of attack. Two days had passed without incident and Harry knew that should have warned him.

He had felt Draco's annoyance at something and then his lover's distress, but by the time he had
summoned Dobby and sent him to Dumbledore it had been too late; Draco had been gone from

the school. It had taken hours to find him, hours where Harry had basically been going insane. He remembered every minute like it was a lifetime, pacing up and down in front of the mirror where he could see into the Headmaster's study. When the news came back that Draco had been taken to a Ministry safe house, by none other than Caveo, Harry snapped.

"Professor Dumbledore," he said as the headmaster prepared to contact people to deal with what had happened, "I ... I don't think I can stay here alone."

He had point blank refused to let anyone come into his room in case he lost control while they were trying to find Draco.

"Of course, Harry," Dumbledore said in a very fatherly tone, "I quite understand. I will send word to your friends. Now don't you worry, My Boy, we will have this all sorted out very soon."

Harry's gut twisted; most of him did not believe that.

"Thank you," is what he said, holding everything inside as well as he could and then he shut off the mirror.

Draco was out there, his lover had been taken from him by force by a man he knew all but hated
him; he could not leave this to others. Standing up, he walked to the door, smiling haltingly at Jeremy when the painting popped into his frame.

"Nervous," he said, wrapping his arms around himself and pretending to rock just a little.

Jeremy smiled at him in what he suspected was supposed to be a comforting manner and Harry
waited. The moment the door opened he was though it. The enchantments tried to hold him back, but with the door open to let his friends in they could not hold him and he barged past them, changing form as soon as he was clear.

"Harry!" he heard Hermione call after him, but he wasn't really listening.

Draco was in distress and danger and Harry's only thoughts were about finding him. He ran along the upper corridor, straight towards the window at the end and he leapt, passing through it with the ease of air moving through the cracks. His whole mind was on Draco and, as soon as his feet touched ground with a thud, he was running towards the edge of the grounds. He might have been at the mercy of his instincts, but this time he was thinking more like a wizard as well. The time between then and now meant the aspects of his nature were more firmly integrated and he could use what he needed rather than only what his base urges told him to. He could move fast, very fast, and he reached the edge of Hogwart's protections sooner than any human could possibly have made it. The moment he felt the enchantments of the school stop prickling his skin he Apparated, vanishing with a pop, only to reappear outside Nackington Farm.

It looked like any other remote farmhouse in the Scottish countryside, but Harry felt Draco's
presence intensify within him and he knew he was at the right place. Still in wolf form, the most efficient of all his shapes, he wasted no time, bounding up to the front door in a handful of strides.

The enchantments on the house could not stop him, but he felt them react as soon as he entered and he knew they would have alerted anyone inside.

The first thing he smelt was blood and he sensed pain and he followed both. He knew that smell
intimately, had tasted of it; he could smell Draco's blood and he snarled as he realised his lover was physically hurt. Someone was going to pay; that was for sure.

"Confess!" his sharp ears heard someone yell desperately as he moved closer. Up the stairs, round a corner.

"I am not guilty," he heard Draco's pain-filled reply.

Caveo was trying to get a confession out of Draco; the whole thing became clear in Harry's mind and, if it was possible, he felt his fury rising even further.

"What?" he heard Draco's scared and startled question.

"Ava..." Harry heard the first syllable of the familiar spell and his mind whited out, instinct spurring him on.

He did not pass through the door he knew was between him and Draco, he flattened it as his need even overcame the powers of the creatures inside him and he landed on top of it just in time to see the green light from Caveo's wand hit Draco firmly in the chest. In slow motion he saw Draco's eyes go blank and dead and his ears heard his lover's heart simply stop beating and all he could hear after that was the rushing sound of the curse that he knew would never stop. He stood there, looking at Caveo as what was left of Harry Potter finally died. Somewhere at the back of his mind he realised Dumbledore had arrived downstairs, bringing the cavalry too late, and then he attacked. He did not care how, but Caveo had to die and he had to suffer and he let his dark nature rise.

Harry sat up, swallowing the scream lurking in his chest, staring around at his room and not really seeing it. The only thing he could see, the only thing that mattered was that Draco was lying beside him, opening sleepy, puzzled eyes to look up at him.

"Harry?" Draco asked, beginning to sense his distress.

He needed so much to assure himself that Draco was alive, that the events he had been living in
his mind were not true, that all he could do was reach out and drag his lover close to him. Living,
breathing, whole; those were the only things going through his mind and he clung to Draco refusing to let him go.

====

Harry put himself between Draco and the door and snarled at the people who were entering.

Snape looked thoroughly unimpressed with the display and Dumbledore appeared slightly worried with his behaviour. At the level where he was not reacting on instinct, Harry could not blame either of them, but that was not the part of him in control at the moment. Coherent was not a way to describe his current state of mind and he could not control his instincts.

"Harry, My Boy, what is wrong?" Dumbledore asked calmly.

At the moment, in his mind, everyone was a possible threat and about all Harry managed to do in reply was stop himself growling at them. He had finally let Draco call for someone to come, but he couldn't say most of him liked it.

"Another premonition," Draco provided the information from the bed behind Harry. "It must have been worse than the first, because Harry hasn't let me off the bed since."

Snape took a further step into the room and Harry reacted instantly, moving in front of the potions master and snarling a second time.

"Is there danger to Draco, Mr Potter?" the head of Slytherin asked in what to most people would have sounded like a completely calm manner.

Harry could smell the man's fear, and hear the almost non-existent tremor in Snape's voice. The
vision that had woken him that morning flashed behind his eyes again and all he could do was
nod. The broken and bloody image of Draco chained to a chair would not go away, and he would do anything to protect his lover from that. The words of the killing curse on the lips of the desperate Auror responsible were ringing in his ears, and Dumbledore arriving seconds too late to stop his revenge tore his heart out. He was the only one who could protect Draco from this fate and he was not going to fail him.

"Mr Potter," Snape snapped pointedly, dragging his attention back, "focus on the present. Is there danger to, Mr Malfoy?"

Almost desperately Harry nodded. He could not explain; the words would not come, but he knew that someone else had to understand.

"Within the school?" Dumbledore added his own question.

Harry shook his head almost immediately; he knew without a doubt that what he was seeing was not Hogwarts, but he had no way to explain what had happened.

"Draco cannot leave school grounds," the headmaster pointed out reasonably, "and the
enchantments on his person mean that he may only be taken away from Hogwarts by officials of
the Ministry or myself. I have Madame Bones' assurance that no Aurors will venture onto school grounds without my permission."

It sounded so sensible, but Harry knew what he had seen, and the Banshee knew the truth. He
needed to make them understand, but it was so hard. The words were stuck in his throat and he could not push them past the mental block. For the thousandth time he cursed the creature inside of him that gave him the ability to see the danger to his lover, but not to be able to explain it. One face was in his mind's eye; one terrified face that turned in panic to his prisoner as he heard rescue coming; one person who lifted his wand and cast Arvada Kedavra in a desperate attempt to protect what reputation he had left.

"C.." Harry tried desperately to communicate as he felt the Banshee wail building in him. "C..." he tried again.

He snarled when Snape moved again; he was so frustrated and angry with himself more than anything that his instincts would not let him go.

"Harry," Dumbledore said slowly and evenly, reaching out in a friendly gesture. "Try and calm
down. No one will attempt to remove Mr Malfoy from your care until this matter is resolved, you have my word."

The headmaster's eyes were not twinkling now, and Harry found himself caught in their very
serious depths. He saw only truth there; truth and a serenity Harry knew he would never be able to find.

"Let the anger go, Harry," Dumbledore spoke to him softly, with a gentle lilt that called him to trust. "I will see to it that Draco may remain here until this threat has been removed."

"C..." Harry tired yet again, knowing that the headmaster needed to know. 

This was important.

"Ca..." he threw himself at the mental barricade with everything he had, feeling the wail build with every syllable. "Cav..."

It physically hurt as he tried to say the name, and the Banshee struggled against its human cage.

"Caveo," he forced through unwilling lips and fell to his knees with the effort.

The Banshee was coming, Harry could feel it, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"Severus," he heard Dumbledore's urgent tones, and he was not too far gone to feel Snape move to one side of him and the headmaster the other.

The words and magic of a silencing charm flowed over him from both sides as the two powerful
wizards cast together, and with relieved gratitude Harry put his head back and keened into the veil of silence that surrounded him. The wail ripped from him in wave after wave of despair as the banshee mourned the loss it could feel coming even as the rest of him resolved to never let it
happen. By the time he was finished his throat was raw and he was shaking, on his hands and knees. It was a feeling he had hoped to never have again.

Arms snaked round him from behind and pulled him up so that he was kneeling and leaning
against the body at his back. Draco buried his face in the side of Harry's neck and kissed him, whispering words that Harry could not hear as they were still trapped in the veil of silence.

====

With Harry's vision they made a simple decision; they had to move up the timeframe on the plan
to clear Draco. They held a meeting of all those who needed to know the truth and then
Dumbledore called the Prophet; they sent their best reporter almost before the fire call was finished.

Rita Skeeter looked particularly nervous when Professor McGonagall escorted her into the room and Harry made sure he sat very still so as not to give the woman a heart attack. Even though she had written nice things about him in the Prophet it was clear to Harry that Rita knew that he was no where near as harmless as she had made out. Making her sweat for a while would have been fun, but this was important and he did not want to alienate her. Having had to escalate the plan the direct approach had seemed the best way to do it.

They had set the scene very carefully; Draco was sat next to him on the two seater sofa, just close enough to be too close for friends, but not be indecent in polite Wizarding society; Ron, Hermione and Neville were on the three-seater sofa next to them; Professor Dumbledore had one of his eccentric arm chairs and that left two other chairs, one for Rita and one for Professor McGonagall.

"Ah, my dear Miss Skeeter," Dumbledore said politely, standing up to greet the reporter, "how  nice of you to come at such short notice."

"Always a pleasure for Harry," Rita replied as she sat down when offered a chair.

Tea was offered all round, but Harry sat very quietly and refused since, he was well aware he was being nervously observed. It was interesting to see what effect his appearance had on a single person who did not really know him and he wondered briefly if he could find a charm or something to tone it down. Rita did not seem to know whether to be afraid or aroused if the scents he could detect coming off her were anything to go by.

"We have some things that people need to know," he said eventually and it seemed to surprise the reporter as he took the initiative, "before the Ministry do something stupid. We thought that you being the Prophet's star reporter deserved the story and could take it to the people."

Rita smiled a somewhat predatory smile; playing the game Draco's way seemed to be working.

"Please go on," she said as she set up her quick quotes quill.

Harry did not fail to notice that it was not the same design as the one she had used during the triwizard tournament, and Professor McGonagall looked vaguely surprised on seeing it, so he assumed it was a different model. If it began to record outrageous things he would complain later.

"The first thing you have to know is that Draco and I are a couple," he said, watching the quill
and to his surprise it wrote down every word exactly, "and we have been since the end of sixth year."

Rita had the decency to look surprised.

"That is interesting news," she said, sitting back in her seat and observing them in the most unsettling way.

Harry was not sure she believed them, and really he couldn't exactly blame her; it did sound like an excuse of some sort.

"How did you come together?" she asked.

"That's not important right now," Harry said and knew his mistake instantly as the woman's eyes narrowed slightly.

Now she definitely thought he was lying.

"My father's imprisonment in Azkaban lowered my family's status within the Dark Lord's ranks,"
Draco took over, reluctance in his voice as if he did not wish to reveal the details. "Some of the seventh years in my house felt this meant I should be taught a lesson. They had just started beating me up when someone under an invisibility cloak stopped them. When they were gone I found out it was Harry. He helped me to the hospital wing and after that we started tolerating each other. The old adage of opposites attract must be right, because we just ended up kissing one day and it went from there."

There had been an incident in sixth year when Draco had ended up in the hospital wing because
of members of his own house, but Harry had had nothing to do with it. The two seventh years who had been too drunk to remember their own names would never be able to deny the story even if Rita ever managed to find out who they were. It was details like this that Harry and Draco had spent hours working out and by the look on her face Rita seemed to have bought it.

"Always the hero eh, Harry?" the woman said with a smile.

Harry did not have to fake the blush the rose to his cheeks; he really did not like being referred to as a hero all the time.

"I believe this is where I came in," Professor Dumbledore stepped into the awkward silence that
followed, "the boys came to me just before the summer holidays. They were in something of a
quandary since they knew Draco would be forced to take the Dark Mark after his seventeenth
birthday and yet he refused to claim sanctuary for the sake of his mother. He believed she would be killed if he did not return."

"And how did you help them, Headmaster?" Rita asked, sounding for all the world like a real journalist rather than the gossip monger they had all come to know and distrust.

"This," it was Draco who spoke and held out his left arm.

Rita did not even attempt to hide her shock as she saw the snake without the skull. Her paper had clearly printed a picture of Draco Malfoy's Dark Mark only the day before, calling for an investigation.

"That's impossible," she said, clearly confused.

"Far from that, My Dear," Professor Dumbledore said in his usual fatherly tone, "merely
somewhat difficult. I must admit it was a most interesting puzzle, but one I am glad to say we
managed to solve. I placed that mark on young Mr Malfoy's arm the week before he returned home and at the time it resembled Tom's mark. It was hidden behind illusions designed to break and absorb Tom's power when he went to place a real mark on Mr Malfoy's arm, thus protecting him from Tom's evil and allowing him time to remove his mother from danger. Of course, to our disgrace we were unable to predict that Tom had other requirements of Mr Malfoy that he could not bring himself to fulfil."

It was obvious to Harry that Rita wanted the gritty details of the 'other requirements', but Dumbledore's tone clearly indicated that such questions would not be tolerated.

"That is ..." Rita said, looking at the mark closely and somewhat suspiciously.

"Not faked," Draco finished for her and gave her a sympathetic smile as if he understood her quandary. "There is no illusion now; you may cast Finite Incantatum if you wish."

If there was one thing that could be said for Rita Skeeter, other than the fact that she had a nose for a good story, it was that she took care in making sure she could backup what she wrote, even if her sources were suspect.

"You understand," she said and she actually almost sounded apologetic, "that in a case like this I should be sure."

"We want you to be," Harry said, although he had to sit on his instincts firmly when she pulled out a wand.

The spell only took a moment and when Draco's mark did not change, Rita appeared surprised and convinced.

"So you were never actually a Death Eater, Draco?" Harry squeezed Draco's hand as the woman's attention turned back to Draco's face rather than his arm.

"No," Draco replied without the slightest trace he was lying through his teeth. "I knew there
would be no chance of escape until after I had taken the mark; as soon as I returned home I was
watched constantly. We thought that once I had the mark I would be trusted enough so that I
could get my mother away, but I was locked in my room the same night and I did not see the
outside again until Harry sent my mother to get me. When Voldemort died the mark should have
returned to what you can see now and when it didn't I thought it had gone wrong. After everything that had happened I didn't know what to do, so I just let everything happen. Then after a day or so it finally changed and I realised that I was being an idiot, so I came to Harry."

"We were going to bring the information up when Draco finally came to trial," Harry took over, not bothering to hide the protectiveness he felt towards his lover, "but we believe the Ministry will try and take him away from here and that..." the words became stuck in his throat.

He had known it would happen and it had the desired effect.

"Have you had another premonition, Harry?" Rita asked clearly understanding what was going on.

Harry nodded and let himself look relieved while trying to not overact. He was not about to try and tell her that what he had seen was an illegal kidnapping and murder, so he let her think what she would. Hopefully when the story broke there would be enough clamouring to mean that they could get this settled with very little fuss. Going against the Boy Who Lived in the current climate would be political suicide for anyone. In a way Harry hoped Fudge tried, but he was more concerned about Draco than the Minister's continuing employment.

"Is this why you really saved Draco, Harry?" this was the question that had bothered them the most, because it implied Harry had lied to the Wizengamot.

"No," he said slowly as if trying to remember, "I don't think so. I really wasn't thinking like that at
the time. When Draco didn't come back for seventh year I thought he'd changed his mind and
gone over to Voldemort's side. I'd stopped thinking of him as anything to me, because it hurt too much and after what happened I didn't think he'd ever want anything to do with me. It wasn't until after the mark changed that anything began to make sense again."

The little round of soul baring seemed to please Rita, although she did at least appear slightly sympathetic. When her attention turned towards his friends, Harry almost breathed a sigh of relief.

"And what, as Harry's friends, do you think of this?" the woman asked with all her usual tact.

"Harry told us the truth just before they went to Professor Dumbledore," Hermione said with a proficiency in lying Harry had had no idea she possessed. "It was a shock at first, but we'd have to have been blind not to see that something was going on by the way he was suddenly so happy."

It appeared Hermione knew how to tug on the ole heart strings like a pro.

"I didn't react too well," Ron said, sounding sheepish, "because me and Malfoy have been
enemies for ages, but Hermione is right and Harry needed Malfoy, still does, so what kind of best mate would I be if I didn't support him?"

"But I hear there have been some altercations between you and Draco since he came back, Ron," Rita said far too sweetly.

Ron blushed as if embarrassed.

"Yeah, well I thought he'd ditched Harry and was back to being a git," Ron said and sent an
apologetic look towards Draco; although the story was fabricated Ron's remorse about the incident was real. "I couldn't exactly tell everyone what was really going on, so the whole junior DeathEater thing was all I had left."

Rita seemed to be buying the whole thing if her expression was anything to go by.

"We're Harry's friends," surprisingly it was Neville who spoke up very firmly, "and we'll support
anything that makes him happy. He's done what he had to do and now its time to let him have his life. That includes Malfoy, which is why we called you, because the Ministry wants a Malfoy as
an example because the one who did all the damage is already dead. Lucius was the evil bastard
and he got what was coming to him; Draco's one of us and if the Ministry want to try and hurt him they have to go through us ... and you can quote me on that."

All of Harry's protective instinct sat up and cheered his friend's words; he had never been prouder to be a Gryffindor in his life.

The rest of Rita's questions were just clarifications and Harry answered where he could and gave her a glare when she stepped over the line, but it was mostly amicable. It was clear that the story had been accepted as true and Harry did not mind giving away a few personal details to sell it all the way. By the time she was finished they had her eating out of the palms of their hands.

"Well thank you for thinking of me," the woman said as she finally put her quill away, "I can guarantee that this will be on the front page of the late edition of the Prophet. The world will know the truth. If I send a photographer over as soon as I floo back would you mind allowing a picture of your arm, Draco?"

Hermione produced a small packet and handed it to Rita.

"We thought you might need these," she said with a slight smile at the woman's look of surprise;
"there are a few shots of the new mark and a couple of Harry and Draco as well. One of our house mates is a good photographer."

"Thank you," Rita seemed genuinely pleased.

She was turning to go and Harry was about to let himself relax when she turned back with a thoughtful look on her face.

"Just one other thing, Harry," she said as if she had just remembered, "the world will want to know if you'll be attending the awards ceremony."

That caused him to frown; he had no idea what she was talking about.

"What awards?" he asked, not bothering to hide what he was truly feeling.

That seemed to stump the reporter for a moment.

"The Order of Merlin awards for services to the war," she said as if she thought it was obvious.

"Oh," Harry replied, not really sure it was anything to do with him, "I didn't know there was going to be a ceremony. They probably wouldn't want me there anyway; I might scare the people getting the awards. I haven't been invited."

Rita looked truly astounded, as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Don't be ridiculous," she said and she sounded affronted, "they have to have invited you; they're awarding you the Order of Merlin first class. The list is being officially announced in the paper tomorrow morning and I know the invitations to the ceremony have already gone out."

Harry sat there without a clue as to what to say. He would have refused any invitation anyway,
but he was sure he would have been told if he had had one. He looked to Professor Dumbledore to find out what was going on.

"Your mail has been quite considerable, my boy," the headmaster said looking him straight in the eye, "but rest assured we would have brought something this important to your notice the moment it arrived. There has been no invitation."

Then Dumbledore turned to Rita, a very serious look in his eye.

"My dear, would you care to join me for tea in my office?" the headmaster asked cordially. "I do not believe this is something we should burden the children with, but I would be most interested to know if there are any others on the list who have not received invitations."

The look Professor Dumbledore sent Harry as the headmaster lead Rita towards the door told him that the details would be forthcoming when they were known, so he did not comment on being excluded. There were some things it really was best to leave to the headmaster.

Part 4:

Harry thought that maybe he could actually feel the change in atmosphere in the school when the late edition of the Prophet arrived. Dobby brought him a copy as soon as it arrived and he had read the front page article and the two other pages that went with it. He hated to admit it, but Rita had done a good job reporting the facts as well as giving a romantic edge to it; he was almost beginning to like the woman.

They had decided that for appearances sake, mostly for the Slytherins' benefit, Draco would make an appearance at dinner in the Great Hall. Harry didn't really like it, but Hermione and Ron had promised to keep an eye on him, so he had finally agreed. Given the information about Harry's premonition no one was getting on to school grounds without the headmaster knowing about it, so letting Draco out of his sight was only slightly traumatising.

At one point he was sure he had felt shock coming from Draco, but it was quickly followed by
amusement, so he hadn't reacted. However, he was still on his feet and checking Draco over the moment his lover and his friends returned from dinner.

"Did you eat anything at all?" Draco asked, looking at the dishes that were still on Harry's table.

"No," Harry replied simply; he had been far more worried about other things to have been bothered with food.

Draco rolled his eyes, grabbed Harry's wand from Harry's back pocket and summoned Dobby.

"What can I be doing for you Master Draco, Sir?" Dobby asked cheerfully, as ever, delighted to be useful.

"I'm sorry, Dobby," Draco said to the house elf, "but Harry was too preoccupied to eat his meal, do you think you could find him a new helping of something please so that it's hot?"

"Of course, Master Draco, Sir," Dobby replied with a huge smile, and then vanished along with Harry's ignored dinner plates.

Harry narrowed his eyes at his lover, which it appeared, amused Hermione, Ron and Neville no end.

"I'm not hungry," Harry said in a pointed tone.

"Yes you are," Draco replied and gave him back his wand, "and you need the calories; Snape says your metabolism is still adjusting, which takes fuel, Harry."

Somehow he felt as if he had just been patted fondly on the head, although Draco did not lower himself to such displays.

"Sit, eat," Draco told him and pecked him on the cheek, "and we'll tell you what happened in the Great Hall."

"Oh, it was brilliant, Harry," Ron said enthusiastically and before he could object, Harry found
himself being swept over to the table and seats and ensconced next to Draco on one of the sofas.

Sometimes Ron's version of brilliant left something to be desired, so Harry looked at Hermione and Draco for confirmation.

"It was demonstrative," was Draco's opinion on the matter and Hermione just smiled.

"Well someone tell me," he said, just a little exasperated.

"Pansy slapped Draco right across the face," Neville said and Harry lost whatever sense of humour he might have had.

"She what?" Harry all but growled, but Draco placed a hand on his leg and stopped him reacting any further.

Pansy had dared lay a hand on his Draco; he was very, very unhappy.

"She hits like the silly little girl she is," Draco told him calmly and patted his leg gently; "it didn't hurt and it was useful."

Harry was not overly mollified, in fact his hind brain was beginning to plan several possible nasty fates for Pugface Parkinson.

"How?" he asked, doing his very best to contain his temper.

"She was screaming all sorts of things," Hermione stepped in to explain; "about Draco being a
traitor to Slytherin and a fool and leading her on all this time and, well, you can imagine what she was like when she got going."

"Draco was brilliant," Ron said and there was that word again and in conjunction with a Malfoy
which Harry had never in a million years had ever thought he would have heard from a Weasley; "he just stood there and let her rant."

Why there had been a spike of shock from Draco was now obvious, but Harry didn't quite understand the amusement. He looked to Draco for the answer.

"She dug her own hole," Draco said, giving him a rather pleased smile. "I just waited until she had finished and then asked her who had won. I think it made the point to the rest of my house very neatly. There should not be any trouble from that direction once I get my wand back. Some of them may bow to pressure from their parents until then, so I will still have to be careful, but most of them aren't stupid."

It was all very Slytherin and Harry wasn't sure whether to approve or be appalled; he settled for disgruntled at Pansy and proud of Draco.

"I still don't think you should let me anywhere near Pansy if you want her in one piece," he said, just as his new dinner appeared on the table.

That made Draco smile even wider.

"I may have quietly mentioned to her how upset you get if someone attacks me," Draco told him, clearly enjoying it; "I don't think I've ever seen someone go quite that pale."

Hermione laughed at that. "I wondered what you said to her," Hermione commented as if it all finally made sense; "she didn't seem interested in staying for dinner after that."

"I suspect she's writing to her daddy to come and get her right now," was Draco's amused response. 

Now that mental image did appeal to his darker nature and he finally smiled a darkly satisfied smile.

"You know," Neville said with a grin, "it is so creepy when you do that; makes me think of a spider with a fly."

Harry might have been worried or annoyed by that, if Nev hadn't added: "Going to be useful when we make a move on Fudge; he'll wet himself."

Draco picked up the plate of beef stew from the table and handed it to Harry with a no nonsense expression on his face. He took it, but he didn't start eating.

"So how did everyone else react?" he needed to know for his peace of mind.

"You could almost see the hearts in the eyes of the Hufflepuffs," Ron said with a laugh and Draco made a face.

"Hopeless romantics, every one of them," Draco said as if that was possibly one of the worst
possible things they could be. "Mention true love and the lot of them lose what intelligence they ever had and end up with the I.Q. of a Puffleskin."

"You two will probably have half a ton of cute cards by the morning," Hermione said and was clearly amused by this.

The fact was, Harry didn't think his and Draco's relationship could ever be described as romantic given how it had started. Of course he wasn't on the outside looking in and he hadn't just read a made up story about how they had been together for months.

"The Ravenclaws seem to think the whole thing is being over romanticised, but, on the surface, all appear to believe it's for the best," Hermione explained and stole a carrot from his plate.

"And the Gryffindors?" he asked, a little nervous about his own house; they had some very strong views about Slytherins.

Hermione gave him a sympathetic smile for his worry.

"They're still digesting it," Neville told him, seemingly also realising his anxiety, "but no one is
reacting badly. They just need time to think it all through and then they'll be fine; it's just Draco being Slytherin that's holding them back."

"Trust your house to choose this one time to actually think about something," was Draco's sardonic comment.

That managed to raise a small smile from Harry; it was rather ironic, but that news did make him feel better. He finally skewered a piece of beef with his fork and began to eat.

====

Even though the article had been printed in the Prophet, Harry was still on edge, he couldn't help it. He had let Draco go to breakfast and his lover would be going back to lessons, but that didn't mean his whole being wasn't focused on his lover. They were connected now, Harry could feel it, and when he was in such a heightened state of awareness he could sometimes sense things from Draco. The flash of distaste when Draco had found shell in his scrambled eggs had not been particularly useful, but it did at least give Harry something mundane on which to focus.

He really wasn't sure how he was going to get through the morning, he could barely sit still, so
lessons were going to be difficult. It didn't help that it was Potions first and he was sure he was going to end up losing points for Gryffindor if he managed to stay in the lesson at all.

It was a shot of alarm that was not his own that had him rearing to his feet and sending his breakfast table crashing to the floor. Unlike the previous evening the shock he felt running through him from Draco did not morph into anything else and fear for his lover ripped at Harry's control.

This time when he ran to the door he did not even try and call Jeremy; he knew the portrait would not let him out, so he went straight for his goal: escape.

He pushed against the door, feeling the magic pushing back at him, stopping him breaking through, but this time he was scared as well as angry. The premonition had affected him badly and he was still very much focused on his lover. It was partly a matter of survival; instinct drove him to protect his means of sustenance, and it was also possessiveness; instinct again forced him to keep what was his, but it was a whole bunch of very human emotions as well. It was those that pushed him over the edge and his magic flared, all the aspects coming together in their one need and it felt as if he was pushing through plastic rather than onto wood.

It was hard and it hurt as he pushed, but he was totally focused. The door melted around him, or
he melted through the door, he wasn't quite sure which, but it felt as if bits of him were being dragged apart. Only as he came out the other side was there any relief, but he didn't have time to take notice of it. He was set on his task and that was all that mattered and he flowed from man to wolf, ripping through his clothes, without even thinking about it. Getting to Draco was the only thing on his mind.

Someone screamed as he ran past in one of the upper corridors; he thought it might have been
Trelawny, but he wasn't really paying attention. He knew where Draco was without needing to
pause and he simply ran, occasionally through things when necessary. Nothing and no one was
going to stop him and he finally rounded a corner to see Draco standing against a wall with a
group of Gryffindors in a semicircle around him. They were not too close and none of them were holding a wand, but Harry still didn't like it and he skidded to a halt, growling.

It was Dean who turned first and the boy's eyes went wide and he went to go for his wand.

"Don't move," Draco said very firmly and very quickly.

Harry swung his gaze to his lover, looking him over for any sign of damage.

Luckily for them the Gryffindors obeyed Draco's barked command and none of them did anything at all. Harry glared at them, adding another growl for good measure.

"Harry, enough," Draco said, voice not so much as quavering and he looked back at him straight away.

Being bossed around was not something Harry liked at all, but, as seemed to be the case now,
Draco's peculiar relationship with him kicked in and he found his hackles slowly lowering. He
was not happy, but it was beginning to become clear that the danger was no longer there and nothing but mostly calm feelings were coming from Draco.

"Come here," Draco said in a warm tone and held out his hand in a welcoming gesture.

With one more look at the assembled Gryffindors, Harry trotted over to Draco who let him sniff at his hand and then his body. There were no other fresh scents on Draco, confirming that Draco had not been manhandled, not like last time, which made Harry relax a little more.

"Satisfied that I'm okay?" Draco asked him once he had finished his inspection and he gave a snuffle of a reply.

Only at that point did he really begin to start thinking again and it occurred to him where he was
and what he had just done to get there. He flowed back from wolf to man before his animal
instincts could get the better of him, at which point he realised it was very chilly in most of
Hogwarts when you were naked. Draco gave him an appreciative up and down before slipping off his outer robe and slipping it over Harry's shoulders.

"You were worried," Harry said, still under the influence of his instincts enough not to die of embarrassment.

"Well you'd be worried when confronted by a delegation of another house," Draco pointed out, letting Harry look him over yet again.

Harry couldn't help it, he really couldn't; the vision of Draco bloody, bruised and dead was still too clear in his mind.

"We only wanted to talk to him, Harry."

It was Seamus who had the courage to open his mouth first, but the Irish Gryffindor almost
flinched back when Harry rounded his gaze onto him. He was feeling just about protective enough to enjoy that reaction rather than find it unsettling.

"I believe," Draco said, placing a hand on his arm and stroking gently, "they were being Gryffindors."

Harry frowned, he wasn't sure what that meant exactly.

"They wanted to know my intentions," Draco added and he still wasn't clear; "towards you," was
the final clue he was given.

The light dawned and Harry finally caught up; he had thought the interview had been pretty plain and he was beginning to understand Draco's point about Gryffindors being dense.

"Everything in the Prophet was true," he said simply, looking at the others, finally letting the last of his fear for Draco go.

The problem was, with it went his protection from really analysing what he was doing and where he was and one fear was quickly replaced by another: fear that he might have actually hurt the people who had been his friends.

"Harry," Draco said, taking his face in both hands and making him look him in the eye, "everything's okay."

He felt a little light headed as the ideas that had been running through his head came back to haunt him. If Dean had got to his wand he wasn't sure what would have happened.

"Look at me," Draco demanded as he tried to look away; "everything is fine."

"I..." he started to say.

"Rushed in like an idiotic hero," Draco interrupted, refusing to let him finish. "Nothing happened; you didn't hurt anyone and you wouldn't have, okay?"

Harry was not so sure.

"Okay?" Draco insisted.

It amazed him how much faith Draco seemed to have in him; it shone in his lover's eyes and made him feel somehow whole. He nodded; faced with that belief he couldn't do anything else.

"Good," Draco said and to his surprise kissed him.

It wasn't a long kiss, or a passionate kiss, but it shocked him enough to keep him from spiralling
into worry over his actions. The incubus part of him whispered at the back of his mind that he
could easily push Draco up against the wall and have his way with him, but luckily his sensibilities were more prevalent and he managed to quell the urge.

"Later," Draco said with a small smile, as if reading his mind, "for now, we need to deal with the delegation."

The whole group of Gryffindors were looking at them with open curiosity when Harry dragged
his eyes away from Draco. There were Dean and Seamus, Lavender, Colin and a third year Harry didn't know very well, he thought the boy's name was William, in the group.

"Sorry, Harry," Dean said and did actually look apologetic; "we didn't mean to scare you, we just wanted to know the truth and make sure you would be okay."

It was a very Gryffindorish sentiment and Harry did understand it; they had been looking out for
him. The fact that he could feel when Draco was in trouble was not something that anyone had
seen fit to bandy about and the current situation wasn't really anything anyone could have predicted.

"I ..." he tried to tell then why he had reacted the way he had, but, as usual, any mention of the premonition caused his voice to lock up.

"Like the article said," Draco stepped in for him smoothly, "Harry had another premonition; in it I died because of the Ministry being idiots. He won't be settled until it's all over."

Harry squeezed Draco's hand in thanks. He would have added something himself, something not directly to do with the premonition, but time was not on his side.

"Exactly what is going on here?" a very familiar voice asked and Harry looked round to see Professor McGonagall standing in the corridor.

All the other Gryffindors were looking anywhere but at their head of house, but Harry met her gaze.

"I got the wrong idea," he said simply; he didn't want anyone getting into trouble.

The way the professor looked at Dean and the others on one side of the corridor and Draco and him on the other, he doubted she couldn't figure out some of what had happened, but he hoped his head of house would not push the matter.

"So much so that you decided to break out of you room, Mr Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked and raised both her eyebrows.

"I'm feeling very jumpy at the moment," he replied, holding on to Draco's hand firmly, "because of ..."

Words failed him yet again, but he could see his message was received. The professor looked at the other Gryffindors.

"And what exactly happened to give Mr Potter the wrong idea?" she asked in her usual stern
voice.

"I believe," Draco stepped in smoothly, "that Harry's friends wished to check the validity of the
Prophet's report for themselves, Professor, and I am a little unsettled myself, given the situation, and they startled me."

It was an understatement of the situation, but Harry prayed McGonagall would accept it; more tension was not what he needed.

"Very well," Professor McGonagall said after a few seconds silence, "misunderstandings can happen so easily; I trust it will not happen again."

All the Gryffindors nodded very definitely.

"Good," the professor said in a very final tone, "then I believe you all have places to be. Mr Malfoy, you and I shall escort Mr Potter back to his room."

Professor McGonagall did not have all the secret ways to move around Hogwarts that the headmaster did, but she managed to find a route to the Room of Requirements that did not cross too many well travelled paths, so Harry didn't have deal with too many people. He really wasn't quite sure how to react to what he had done, since he had just proved that even Hogwarts couldn't keep him in if he wanted out. It was unsettling to say the least; his previous episode had made him think he had proved that he was contained, but it turned out he wasn't.

"I will send a note to Professor Snape," his head of house told them as she delivered him back to
relative security, "explaining why you will be a few minutes late, Mr Malfoy. I trust it will only be a few?"

Draco nodded politely.

"Of course, Professor," Draco replied in kind, "I will just make sure Harry is okay."

That satisfied Professor McGonagall it seemed, because she did not move to enter the room.

"Do try not to fret, Harry," she said gently, just before turning to leave; "I do not believe the
headmaster ever thought this room would be a prison, more a safeguard, which it still is. I have found in the time I have known you, that you react to situations as necessary, and I think, perhaps, that this morning's incident was necessary and will serve you both well."

It was a very long speech from a usually reserved teacher and Harry took it to heart. He still felt off balance and less protected than he had, but he could see what his head of house was trying to tell him.

"Thank you," he said and he genuinely meant it.

With that Professor McGonagall turned and walked off with her usual efficient stride.

"Come on," said Draco and ushered him into his room; "let's find you some clothes."

====

Draco had given him a little pep talk before leaving, but Harry was amazed that he'd been able concentrate at all during the first lesson of the morning. Snape had raised an eyebrow at him when the man had first seen him, since he was wearing a t-shirt and jeans, but since he only had one complete uniform at the moment (he really needed to buy some more) and he had torn it to shreds, he hadn't had much choice. There really was no mending clothes that looked as if the incredible hulk had been wearing them.

That was why, when the mirror cut out without him asking it to, just as he was in the middle of his potion, he was rather surprised.

"Crap," he said loudly; he'd been reading the instructions from the board.

It was annoying to realise his potion was going to be ruined through no fault of his own.

"Harry Potter, Sir," Dobby's voice made him turn.

He hadn't summoned the house elf, so he assumed the small creature had been sent.

"The Headmaster is asking if you would be kind enough to join him in his study," Dobby said with a bob of his head; "he is sending Dobby to clean up your potions for you."

That was a bit of a shock.

"He wants me to go out there?" Harry said, looking at the door. He'd only been back in his room for an hour; he wasn't sure he liked the idea of leaving its safety again. Dobby bobbed his head again.

"The Headmaster, Sir, is saying that there are people who wish to talk to Master Draco and that to be avoiding misunderstandings Harry Potter should be invited too," Dobby said somewhat apologetically.

Harry's reluctance was wiped away with just a few words and he put his wand back in his pocket and stepped away from his potion brewing.

"Thank you, Dobby," he said, doing his very best to appear calm, even though his heart was beating a mile a minute.

Logically he knew Dumbledore would never let anything happen to Draco, however logic didn't
always hold a lot of sway. The events of earlier had proved that and Harry walked towards the
door quickly. This time it opened for him and he stepped out into the hallway, schooling his features into as neutral as he could manage. He hadn't really had time to analyse how it felt to be outside and free after his previous escape, he had been more worried about Draco, but he had a little time just then. The magic of the school was so clear to him and he could sense the bustle of life. His instincts wanted to drag him in all sorts of directions, so he squashed as many of them as he possibly could and focused on the ones that wanted to protect Draco.

Setting off, he walked quickly, heading straight to the headmaster's study and doing his very best to ignore everything else. He had no choice but to pass through the main parts of the school, but with lessons in progress he met only two people and even when they stared at him he simply kept walking. The gargoyle let him up when he produced the latest password and then he ascended to the Headmaster's office, stepping through the door and doing his very best to appear completely calm.

"Ah, Harry, thank you for coming so quickly," Dumbledore said from behind his desk, "do come in. You know Auror Tonks and this is Auror Newline."

"Wotcha, Harry," Tonks said, smiling at him.

"Hello," he replied, walking forward and giving Newline the once over.

If the Ministry had sent Caveo he might have had to kill the man, but Newline didn't seem to be hostile and didn't seem to mind the scrutiny.

"Tonks and Newline are here to record young Mr Malfoy's new mark for the official records,"
Dumbledore explained with a benevolent smile. "I thought it best you be here so there were no misunderstandings."

His break out was probably news all over the school by now and he was not in the least bit
surprised by the headmaster's reasoning. Clearly the plan 'Reintegrate Harry' had gone up a notch thanks to his own actions.

"Thank you," he said, sitting down in the chair furthest from the Aurors.

"If we can confirm what was reported in the Prophet this morning," Newline said in a very pleasant manner, "then it will help greatly in expediting Mr Malfoy's case."

Harry wanted to demand that the case be dropped instantly, but he knew that would do no good, so he just nodded silently.

"I hope you don't mind me saying, Mr Potter," Newline said in a very cheerful tone, "but I find your case fascinating. I studied magical beings in university before I had a moment of insanity and joined the Aurors. I must say your core magic must be incredibly rich to not have been overcome by the magic added to it. I was very impressed when I read the report."

Harry just blinked; that was not what he had expected. Newline was in fact a polar opposite to
Caveo and it finally began to dawn on Harry that maybe this was actually all a formality rather
than something sinister. He looked to Dumbledore, who just smiled at him, only backing up his supposition.

"Thank you," he said, looking back at Newline, "I think."

Newline actually smiled at him for that, but before the man could reply the door opened again and Draco stepped in.

"Ah, Draco," Dumbledore greeted in his usual cheerful and benevolent manner, "I do apologise for the interruption to your lesson. Please come in."

Draco nodded and walked over to stand beside where Harry was sitting.

"If I may ask," Draco said politely, "what is this about, Headmaster?"

"We're here to record your new mark for the records, Cuz," Tonks said with her usual irreverence.

"Since it would be imprudent to remove you from the safety of Hogwarts," Newline added in just
as cheerful a tone, "we were sent to retrieve a record for the official transcripts. Given the
circumstances, Madame Bones had ordered your case to be considered immediately and so we need to do things by the book."

"Oh," was Draco's response, clearly that was not quite what he had been expecting, anymore than Harry had been.

Given the Ministry's idiocy even since Harry's defeat of Voldemort, the new approach was a little surprising.

"Of course," Draco said, gathering himself, "what do you need me to do?"

"It's just like what we did the last time," Tonks said with a smile. "If you want to sit down, we'll check the mark for other spells, then make an official record to take back with us; totally painless, well unless I trip between here and there and fall on you."

Harry did his best to appreciate Tonk's attempt at humour, but he wasn't feeling much like joking around, so he gritted his teeth even as Draco smiled graciously. His eyes zeroed in as Draco rolled up his sleeve and all his instincts screamed 'Mine' as he saw the mark there. It took quite a lot of effort for him to sit still when Tonks walked over and pulled out her wand.

"No worries, Harry," the female Auror said brightly, "I promise he's safe and sound."

At least she seemed to understand, which helped a little.

The spells Tonks used were designed to identify any spells on Draco's mark rather than just cancel them, which made them more complicated than Rita's cursory investigation. Draco just sat there looking totally calm and holding his arm still for the whole process and Harry tried to be similarly stoic, even though he knew Draco was not quite as calm on the inside. The final spell caused an image of Draco's arm and the mark on it to float up into mid air, then it rolled itself up like a scroll and vanished with a pop.

"All done," Tonks announced with a cheerful smile and then stepped away from Draco, putting
her wand away as she did so. "Thanks again for letting us come so quickly, Professor," she said, looking at Newline who stood up, "we'll stop bothering you now."

"Thank you for your efficiency," the headmaster replied, standing and walking around his desk; "and please pass my thanks to Madam Bones for dealing with this matter so efficaciously."

Everything seemed so friendly, but Harry was still not comfortable with Aurors, not even Tonks,
being anywhere near Draco, which was why he sat still and concentrated on not doing anything
while Dumbledore passed pleasantries with the pair and showed them out. In fact he was only going to be happy once they were off of school grounds.

"Well I am very glad that is over," Dumbledore said with a smile as he walked back to his desk.

"My hope is that this situation will be resolved very soon now that it is firmly within the public eye."

Harry just nodded; he agreed with that totally.

"Now, Harry," the headmaster said, smiling at him in a very fatherly manner, "about this morning..."

His stomach fell; he hoped he hadn't ruined anything.

"I have to be honest and let you know that I have not believed the Room of Requirements could
hold you if you were determined to get out for some days now," was the explanation that made
him blink at the headmaster. "Professor Snape has been monitoring your condition very closely
and we are both of the belief that as your aspects settle they are becoming more cohesive, making you a very powerful young man."

Harry wasn't sure how to react.

"We had hoped to allow you to believe this was not the case for a little while yet, to give you
peace of mind," Dumbledore explained kindly, "but alas, we have been foiled. I would like to
suggest we keep the existing precautions in place to protect you from unwanted visitors and to
mitigate, shall we say, possible tantrums, but put avenues in place, that should you wish to gain access to the rest of the school, you may."

"That sounds like a very productive way forward," Draco said in a pleasant tone and made Harry look at him in shock.

"Um," was as close as Harry came to a sensible answer.

"Thank you, Professor," Draco said, standing and reaching out to take Harry's hand, "don't worry, I'll explain why it's a good idea to Harry and he'll come round."

That shook him out of his shock.

"I am sitting here," he pointed out, just a little annoyed at being talked about rather than to.

Draco just smiled at him.

"Of course you are, My Boy," the headmaster said and also smiled at him, "and now I believe, if
an old man's time keeping is not too off, you should have a few minutes to talk before your next lessons. Would either of you care for a lemon drop before you go?"

Harry gave up; he was surrounded by insanity.

====

It had taken Draco a little while to re-convince him that he was not now a danger to the entire school, but after that the day had gone quite smoothly. So smoothly in fact that he was doing some of his homework when Draco arrived just before dinner and he found he hadn't even realised the time. Draco had decided he had made enough of a point by appearing at three meals to show that he was not Harry's lap dog that he and Harry could have dinner together again.

"You've spelt that wrong," Draco said, pecking him on the cheek and peering over his shoulder at his work and pointing to part of the spell he was writing about.

"Oh, thanks," he said and corrected it.

His academic efforts were improving with Draco around as well.

"So," Draco said while he continued to write his essay, "hungry?"

There was something about the way Draco said it that caught his attention and he looked up to
find Draco, pulling off his Slytherin tie and opening the top buttons of his shirt to reveal his long,
pale neck. It had been so crazy over the past couple of days that Harry had forgotten what day it was, but as Draco smiled at him with a very 'come hither' smile, he remembered rather pointedly.

It was Draco's day to donate blood and it looked as if Draco was looking forward to is as much as Harry was.

Turning, Draco walked away from him, calmly sitting down on the bed, kicking off his shoes and
crossing his ankles in a very demure pose, just looking at him. Harry did not need to be invited twice and he stood up, homework all but forgotten as he walked over to where Draco was sitting.

Sometimes, when he caught himself thinking in very human terms, he was still amazed that Draco was his, but the rest of him knew it with every fibre of his being.

When he leant down and captured Draco's mouth for a kiss it felt so right that, for one, all his
aspects were in agreement and he let the vampire rise to the surface. His body was reacting to
Draco's closeness, but his incubus nature was, for once, content to remain in the background.

"Move back on the bed," he said, letting his voice resonate as he spoke.

Draco did so without question, moving to the centre of the bed and settling there with a smile on his face. The way Draco lay down, opening his shirt, had Harry immediately crawling on to the bed as well, but he controlled himself, making his body move with careful precision rather than raging need. He could see Draco's approval in his eyes. He pushed one knee between Draco's legs, forcing him to spread them and placed the other on the outside of one of Draco's thighs while leaning over his willing prey. Part of him revelled in Draco's surrender and he leant down, ever so gently kissing Draco's neck.

With the vampire at the surface, he could hear the steady beat of Draco's heart and smell the
burgeoning arousal that their position was causing in Draco. It was a heady combination and he used his tongue to feel the pulse beating under Draco's perfect skin.

"Harry," Draco whispered his name almost as if it was a prayer and he obeyed the request.

Opening his mouth, he placed his razor sharp fangs against Draco's neck and, ever so carefully,
pushed them in. Draco gasped in pain, reaching out to grip his shoulders, but the moment blood
hit Harry's tongue that sound changed to one of pleasure. Harry did not hold back, he opened
himself completely to Draco, allowing the full pleasure to flow into his lover. Draco bucked up against him, bringing Draco's erection into contact with his hip and his erection into contact with Draco's and he moaned around the bite. Sex and blood at the same time nearly blew his mind and his imagination conjured all sorts of thoughts about how it might be if he did this while buried deep in Draco in another way as well.

He drank longer than he needed to, just because it was so wonderful, but it was only a little too long and he did managed to force himself to stop, pulling his fangs from Draco's throat and sealing the wounds with his tongue. Draco was breathing hard and whined quietly at the loss when he stopped feeding, but Harry was not about to abandon his lover and rolled his hips. For once there were no sensible words from Draco's mouth, only moans of pleasure. They were both still in their clothes, but Harry didn't care, he just kept moving against Draco as his lover clung to him, angling his hips for maximum contact. It was rough and ready, but feeding from Draco had affected Harry far more than feeding from anyone else did and they were both so needy it didn't matter. It didn't take long either as Draco's breath began to come in shorter and shorter gasps and when Draco came, pushing up against him and shuddering out his pleasure, Harry came too, dragged along as his incubus took full advantage of the sex.

They ended up in a panting heap with Harry doing his very best not to squash Draco underneath him as he tried to drag his body and brain back into some semblance of order.

"Wow," Draco said eventually as they rested without so much as attempting to move; "it better not be like that for the others."

Harry couldn't help himself; he laughed.

Part 5:

The next morning brought with it blessed normality, or at least what passed for normal for Harry
these days and he was actually feeling more relaxed. The Ministry hadn't shown their hand yet,
but it seemed to be clear which way they were leaning. That meant that Harry let Draco go off to lessons with only a little reluctance and he actually managed to concentrate quite well through his subjects. Draco returned at lunch time, along with Hermione and Neville, Ron was dealing with something to do with the Quidditch team, and Dobby brought them all a very nice selection of what the kitchen had to offer. They were eating and talking, and well just being friends when Jeremy popped into his frame.

"Sorry to disturb you, Harry," Jeremy said with a smile, "but the headmaster wonders if he might be allowed in."

"Of course," Harry said immediately.

It didn't sound urgent, but you could never tell with Dumbledore. When the headmaster walked in, he was carrying a small bundle under one arm and a rather large flat something in the other; he was, however, smiling brightly, so Harry thought this was probably a good visit.

"Good afternoon," Dumbledore greeted in his usual, slightly dotty manner, "please, do not let me interrupt your lunch. I am merely here as a delivery boy."

When Albus Dumbledore was just a delivery boy the world would end, but Harry wasn't about to
challenge him on it. It did pique his interest though and he couldn't help wondering what could have dragged the headmaster all the way from his office.

"Firstly," Dumbledore said, while sporting the biggest smile, "a few students pressed upon me to deliver this."

He produced the large flat thing that appeared to be some sort of homemade envelope.

"I believe they have been working very hard on it since the news broke," Dumbledore explained and twinkled at them.

The predicted pile of cards from the Hufflepuffs had never materialised, but Harry had the sinking feeling that was because they had been working together. He stood up and carefully took what he suspected was a giant card from the headmaster.

"Um, thanks," he said, looking at it dubiously, "would you mind if we opened it after lunch?"

His reaction seemed to amuse the Headmaster somewhat.

"Of course not, My Boy," was the cheerful response and Harry found himself being patted on the shoulder.

He placed the large envelope against the edge of the sofa and sat back down.

"And now, Draco," Dumbledore said, grabbing Harry's attention, because everything concerning Draco did these days, "this is for you."

The headmaster passed the other small bundle to Draco, who took it and placed it on his knee. He didn't appear to know whether to open it right then or not, so Harry gave him a small nod; he felt safer with Dumbledore there when there were strange parcels involved. Logically he knew that the headmaster would never allow anything through that might endanger Draco, but it made him feel better that Dumbledore was there.

Opening it, Draco revealed a thick scroll, and the most obvious thing on it was the Ministry seal.
Harry's heart began to beat a little faster. All the signs had been good, but Harry never
underestimated the Ministry's ability to take the most obvious situation and hash it up, so he
waited, all but holding his breath. Draco carefully picked up the scroll to release the seal and, as he tipped it sideways, something fell out into his lap. Harry might had squeaked, just a little, but he was admitting to nothing. There on Draco's legs was his wand.

"I believe, My Dear Boy," Dumbledore said, twinkling beyond belief now, "that the scroll
contains a full account of the Ministry's investigation and their findings, as well as their decision to drop all pending charges."

Harry beamed at his lover and then threw his arms around him. It was the best news and he felt a knot inside of him finally releasing. Draco was safe; Draco had his wand back; Draco was looking at him as if he was an overexcited Hufflepuff. However, he was unrepentant and hugged him a bit more.

"Go on then," he said, grinning like he'd lost what brain cells he had left; "you know you want to."

Draco just rolled his eyes, but reached out anyway and reverently curled his fingers around the
handle of his wand. There was no other real way to describe reconnecting with a wand except to
say it was a perfect moment, and for just a second Harry could see that on Draco's face. Of course Draco, being a Slytherin, wiped it away pretty quickly, but it had still been there.

"Thank you very much for delivering this personally, Professor Dumbledore," Draco said, almost formally.

"Not at all," Dumbledore replied with a smile, "it was my pleasure, and now, I will let you all finish your lunch."

"You can join us if you want, Sir," Harry said quickly as his manners caught up.

"Thank you, Harry," the headmaster replied, "but I would not dream of interrupting you young people any further. I wish you all a very pleasant afternoon."

There was a general consensus of things like 'you too' and then the headmaster was gone, leaving the rest of them with lunch. By that point Draco had slipped his wand into his sleeve and was popping the seal on the scroll. Hermione, of course, was brimming over with curiosity, so Harry let her and Draco worry about the details, while he just enjoyed the fact that Draco had finally been cleared. It was a very nice feeling and nothing marred it until after Nev and Hermione left, leaving him and Draco alone.

"We should open the card," he finally decided after all the lunch things had vanished.

"Do we have to?" Draco asked, actually sounding a little scared.

Harry didn't blame him, Hufflepuffs could be scary sometimes.

"Yeah," Harry replied, playing up to the face Draco was making, "I think we do."

There wasn't a lot that could wreck his day now anyway, but he was just a little worried. He picked up the giant envelope and placed it on the table and then very carefully opened it. Nothing happened immediately, so he gained in confidence and, with Draco's help, pulled out the card. It was sweet really, all hearts and ribbons and wishing him and Draco good luck in bright letters on the front, so he opened it. That was his mistake. There was a small explosion and it suddenly appeared to be raining glitter and hearts all over the immediate area. It wasn't a shower either; it was a deluge and it covered everything.

"I may have to kill them," Draco said simply; "this is simply undignified."

When Harry turned to look, Draco was as covered in glitter as everything else and there were little metallic hearts all through his hair. He couldn't help smiling; it was adorable.

====

When Jeremy announced he had a visitor, Harry just assumed it was one of his friends. He knew
it wasn't Draco, because they had arranged for the Slytherin to come back after dinner since Draco thought he should show his face in the Great Hall again. The news of the first sensible decision the Minitry had made was all over the school, so Harry had absolutely no fears of letting him go at all. Harry was presentable, not wandering around half naked or anything, and he had finally managed to remove nearly all of the glitter, so he just told Jeremy to let his guest in. He really didn't expect to look over from where he was putting a book back and find Narcissa Malfoy standing in his room.

"Mrs Malfoy," he said in a rather shocked tone.

"Mr Potter," Narcissa said with a small nod of her head, "I apologise for visiting unannounced, but Headmaster Dumbledore said it would be best to come straight away."

Harry wasn't quite sure what to say.

"Um, yeah," he said, a little bit lost, "please, come in. Can I get you anything, tea, perhaps?" Falling back on learned habits seemed like the best idea.

"Thank you," Narcissa said with a slight smile, "but no, I am fine thank you."

Narcissa was wearing a very fine dress and matching jacket and her hair was piled on her head in fine blonde tresses; Harry felt rather underdressed.

"Please, have a seat," Harry offered and walked over to the sofa and chairs, waiting for his guest to sit down before he followed suit, "what can I do for you?"

"Mr Potter," Narcissa began.

"Harry," he put in since it seemed polite.

"Harry," Narcissa corrected herself, "please call me Narcissa. I have come to see you because of my son."

It wasn't really unexpected and Harry nodded; it was difficult to isolate any of the myriad of emotions that ran through him at that moment.

"Until now I have stayed away because I believed reminding others that Draco is part of the
Malfoy family would have been detrimental to his position," Narcissa explained, which was more
than Harry thought he had a right to expect given the circumstances, "but since he has now been officially declared innocent I came as soon as I could."

That of course begged the question why she was there with him. It suddenly occurred to him that maybe she was taking Draco away and he had to squash some rather nasty impulses.

"I wanted to ask you a question, Harry," the woman continued politely, "if I may?"

Harry nodded; he wasn't sure what timbre his voice would come out at that moment as he did his very best to control himself, so he didn't speak.

"How much of what was written in the Prophet was true?" Narcissa asked and Harry could tell that the woman seemed all but lost.

He knew Narcissa and Draco were close and he could only imagine how Narcissa was feeling, thinking that maybe she did not really know her son at all.

"The part where we are a couple now," Harry said, using the sympathy he felt for Draco's mother
to soothe anything else he was thinking. "I changed the dark mark the morning after our first night together here. Professor Snape helped us concoct the rest of the story; Draco has not been hiding anything from you."

Narcissa's face actually showed her surprise then, clearly she had not expected such a direct response.

"Please excuse me," she said, regathering her composure; "I must apologise for once again underestimating you, Harry. You are a very direct young man."

He even managed a small smile at that.

"As Draco would say," he replied with a shrug, "I am a Gryffindor."

Narcissa smiled as well at that and then she sobered, looking at him in a contemplative manner.

"I do not claim to understand what exists between you and Draco, Harry," Narcissa said
eventually. "After what happened at the manor I find it hard to comprehend, but I know my son
well enough to know he would not tie himself to you out of simple gratitude. You have done more for him than anyone else, but he has more of a heart than his father ever did and he would not give himself over for that."

Harry found himself reaching out and he placed a hand on Draco's mother's arm very gently as she tried to explain herself. It was in that moment that he realised one simple fact.

"I love him," he said plainly, voicing what his brain had finally admitted and he has known in his heart for ages. "All of me, every different facet, every creature inside of me; we love him."

He wasn't one of those people who was good with words and always knew what to say, but he
saw Narcissa's uncertainty and he responded to it. He could not explain it any other way. Draco
was as much a mystery to him as the Slytherin had ever been, he could not speak for Draco, but
he could speak for himself. He was tied to Draco in ways he did not understand and he didn't know if Draco was as tied to him, but it didn't make any difference.

It dawned on him at that moment that Draco's get out of jail free card had been completely
obvious all the time and he felt just a little bit of an idiot for not seeing it. The truth had been staring him in the face and, all playacting aside, he now knew what was real.

"I have lived with a man who forgot he had a heart for too long," Narcissa said, looking him in the eyes, "I find I have forgotten that sometimes the simplest explanation is the truth."

Harry wasn't quite sure what that meant.

"You might have to explain that sentence," he admitted sheepishly and Narcissa smiled at him.

"I will leave that to Draco," the woman replied and patted his hand gently.

That was the trouble with dealing with Slytherins; often they left you hanging.

"Now, I believe I was in error before," Narcissa said, sitting back in her chair; "if the offer of tea is still open I would very much enjoy a cup."

For a moment Harry was caught completely wrong footed by the change of direction, but he
recovered quickly. He had mostly expected Narcissa to find out what she wanted to know and leave, but it seemed that was not the case.

"Right," he said with a smile, really not sure what was going on now at all, "of course," and he cast the spell to summon Dobby.

Harry was bad at small talk and he couldn't help wondering if someone would come and rescue him.

====

"What on earth did you say to my mother?" were the first words out of Draco's mouth when he entered the room.

Harry put down his homework and looked over at his lover.

"Um, why?" he asked, hedging his bets.

"Because she described you as adorable," Draco said, throwing his outer robe over the back of one of the chairs, "and that is a term she usually reserves for babies and small fluffy animals."

Harry lifted an eyebrow at that; as far as he was concerned there were many ways to describe him: dangerous, lethal, dark, potentially psychotic. Funnily enough, adorable was not on the list.

"She didn't hit her head on the way to see you did she?" he asked, just a little worried.

Draco rolled his eyes and then grinned.

"Maybe she was right," was Draco's comment and Harry had no idea what he had done and the way Draco sauntered towards him cut off most of his higher thoughts anyway.

He totally forgot about his homework when Draco climbed into his lap and kissed him.

Considering the fact that it was usually him who initiated sex, probably because he always had sex on the brain, this was a very nice surprise.

"I want to celebrate," Draco said, between kisses: "I'm free of the shadow of the Ministry, my mother has vetted my boyfriend and adores him and you look simply irresistible sitting here."

"Your wish is my command," he replied, snaking his arms up Draco's back.

"Really?" Draco asked with a wicked smile and just for a second Harry was worried.

For a moment he had forgotten he was talking to a Slytherin. However, rather than reveal what
was going through his head, Draco just kept kissing him and Harry was all for that. It was only when Harry went for the fastenings on Draco's clothes that his lover pulled back.

"Come on," Draco said, climbing off his lap, "I want a shower."

Harry's disappointment at Draco moving away transformed into pleasure in an instant; he never
complained about ways to get Draco naked in short order and as long as he could keep his hands on Draco his incubus was happy. Draco led them into the bathroom, turned on the shower and then stripped without further ado, all of which Harry watched with great interest.

"Over dressed, Harry," was all Draco said, smiling at him and climbing under the spray.

Just occasionally Harry might be slow at picking up on things, but that come-on he heard loud and clear and pulled off his clothes as fast as physically possible. Draco actually laughed at the speed with which he managed to make it under the water with him. He wound his arms around Draco, pulling their bodies flush and revelling in the touch of flesh on flesh as he kissed his lover deeply.

There was nothing in the world more intoxicating to him than Draco. For a while Draco let him
have his way, responding to his kiss and his touches with just as much passion, but eventually Draco pulled himself away.

"Wash first," Draco said breathlessly, "sex afterwards."

Harry might have objected, but he did rather like seeing Draco's smooth skin covered in suds.
As it turned out, Draco had been serious about the washing, not that Harry made many objections when he found out that Draco meant clean everywhere. The way Draco was touching him and he was touching Draco, just made him that much more excited. Harry had never thought of putting a shower head to quite the use Draco did.

When they were both clean to Draco's satisfaction and before Harry could take charge again, Draco smiled at him, turned the water down to a trickle and slipped to his knees.

"Oh," Harry said, since that was about as coherent as he could manage as Draco, quite simply, swallowed his cock.

His back hit the wall and he had to scrabble to remain standing while his lover sucked him off. He wasn't used to being wrong footed when he came to sex, most of the time he had led where they went, but it seemed that Draco had decided he wanted to drive this evening. Part of Harry was not sure he liked it, but the rest of him thought Draco's tongue was amazing and, when he hollowed his cheeks and sucked, it was mind blowing.

"Draco," he said in a warning tone as he felt himself beginning to lose control as his incubus
nature rose to the surface, but Draco only pulled back a little, still holding him and licking him as his physiology changed.

Having his more demonic nature on the surface didn't seem to faze Draco at all, in fact, if
anything, Draco became more enthusiastic. His lover began to work him with his hands as well as his mouth, playing with his balls and his shaft along with licking and sucking and all sorts of other wonderful things. Harry was in heaven and he wasn't sure he had seen anything as debauched as Draco, on his knees, sucking his cock.

The familiar tightness began to grow and wonderful shots of excitement began to run through his body.

"Draco," he said breathlessly, trying to give his lover some warning of what was coming, but Draco didn't seem to care.

Draco did not even pause in what he was doing and Harry couldn't stop himself, he felt himself
about to go and he gasped and at the very last second Draco pulled off, just in time for Harry to
come all over his lover's face. Harry's knees all but gave out as his desire, his passion, his
possessiveness and his incredible orgasm all fired at the same time. There was something more debauched than Draco on his knees sucking his cock and that was it.

For his part, Draco stayed right where he was for a while, just looking smug, before slowly standing up.

"Good?" Draco asked, as if he didn't already know the answer.

"Yeah," was about all Harry could find to say.

Turning the water back on to full, Draco stepped fully under the spray and washed himself off, before leaning in to Harry and kissing him again.

"Let's get dry," was the next suggestion, but Harry caught Draco before he could step out of the shower.

He pushed his lover up against the wall and laid his own body over Draco's so they were skin to
skin from chest to toe and then he began kissing Draco's neck. He really didn't care about being
dry and he wanted more of Draco right then. Draco let him have his way and did not object, for a while at least.

"Harry," Draco finally said, trying to push him away, "not yet."

In the beginning that would not have worked, Harry would have pushed for what he wanted, but he was more in control now. It took a lot of effort, but he did manage to pull back.

"Dry," he said, as if trying to convince himself, "time to get dry."

Draco smiled at him and pecked him on the cheek for the effort.

By the time they made it out of the bathroom, Harry's nerves were singing; he needed Draco as much as he needed air and he was more than a little frustrated that Draco had not let him have his way in the shower. The blowjob had been good, never let it be said he was ungrateful, but it just wasn't quite enough. When they had full on sex something in him was satisfied which was left wanting by everything else.

"I want to try something," Draco told him as his lover kissed up his neck.

The growl that came out of him was totally out of his control, but it wasn't supposed to be a
warning, not really. For all the effect it had it might as well have been a purr when Draco drew back and gave him a look.

"I know what you want, Harry," his lover told him with a slight smile, "and you can have your wicked way with me later, but there's something I think you might enjoy."

It took a lot of effort for Harry to stop himself from simply throwing Draco down onto the bed. He knew Draco would let him if he insisted; they were both aware that sometimes Harry was not completely in control, but he resisted.

"Good boy," Draco said leaning forward and kissing him on the lips; "your control is getting better all the time."

Harry wasn't so sure it was his control at all; he thought maybe it was Draco's, but he didn't
mention it out loud. After all, Draco was a Slytherin and Harry did have some self-preservation instincts some of the time.

"Now climb onto the bed," Draco said, smiling seductively, "on your hands and knees with your arse in the air."

Instinct warred with instinct as he tried to decide whether to blush and obey or just give up and throw Draco onto the bed anyway.

"Draco, this is hard," he said, feeling his body demanding things of him as his incubus tried to take over again.

"I know," Draco replied and the playfulness was gone, replaced by what seemed to be genuine understanding; "all I ask is that you give me a little warning if you are going to lose control."

It sounded so reasonable, but Harry didn't exactly feel in a very reasonable mood. He bit his lip, using the very slight pain to make his body pay attention to his mind and he made himself move.

His cock hung heavy, already hard again and demanding his attention and his need eased a little when Draco climbed onto the bed behind him and stroked him firmly.

"This is called rimming, Harry," Draco told him, stroking his cock some more to keep him
occupied, "and I have it on very good authority it feels very, very nice. I doubt you've heard of it, being of innocent Gryffindor stock."

"I'm not innoc..." his voice cut off when he felt Draco press his face against his arse and a tongue swiped over his hole.

He was incredibly sensitive to all things sexual and Draco's very direct assault on a distinctly erogenous zone took away his voice for a few moments.

"Bloody hell," was about the most sensible words he managed to get out even after that, especially when Draco did the same thing again.

The sheer intimacy of what Draco was doing held him still. The sexual nature of the act spoke to
his incubus very loudly, but his human side was caught as well and it made him tremble inside. He and Draco had done some things, but nothing that felt quite like this and especially nothing with Draco being the instigator. Draco's tongue was firm and hard against him, pushing at the tight ring of muscle and sending thrills through him. It was amazing and for a while it was wonderful and enough, but that feeling inside his chest was growing and it didn't feel right. Draco was making him come undone a second time, but he needed more.

"Draco," he half said, half growled as he felt the incubus surfacing completely again, "I can't ..."

"How about you try?" was Draco's response to that as his lover pulled back and then moved to beside him on the bed, also on his hands and knees.

Harry needed no second invitation, shifting back behind Draco and admiring the smooth curve of his lover's arse. All his in sweet surrender and Draco just hummed quietly when he reached out to touch him.

"Take me with your tongue, Harry," Draco said breathlessly; "prepare me for that big, hard cock."

This was one thing Harry had not tried before, but the idea filled him with desire and he bent
down, at first just teasing the skin of Draco's buttocks with his lips. Draco was waiting for him,
arse in the air, legs spread in perfect supplication and Harry wanted nothing more than to take his lover there and then. Unsure, but wanting to please Draco, he swiped his tongue over Draco's hole and the way the muscle quivered under his touch had him doing it again. It delighted him and intrigued him and now he understood why Draco had been so insistent they both be completely clean. All he tasted was clean flesh that was very much Draco.

At first he copied what Draco had done to him, but he was an incubus; he was designed for sex
and his tongue was far more versatile than a human's. Smiling to himself, he pushed his tongue
against Draco's entrance and then he let it change shape and grow. The end became almost pointed, slipping inside Draco easily and not splitting, as it lengthened and widened.

"Harry, oh god," was Draco's response, not that Harry could reply of course.

He was pretty sure this was what Draco had envisioned and he was more than happy to give his
lover what he wanted, especially when Draco began to make breathy, panting moans. He moved his tongue in and out of his lover, ever so slowly, feeling Draco's muscles tremble under his touch, loosening and taking him more easily with each stroke. Draco was surrendering to him in the most intimate way and it was wonderful. Of course, it was not completely perfect and it was not all Harry needed; it satisfied him for a long time as he took Draco apart and made him writhe, but he needed that one step more. Finally pulling away, he knelt up straight and moved in close, lining himself up and sliding into Draco's needy hole in one slow stroke.

Draco let out a choked sound and fell forward a little, but that just improved Harry's angle and he began to move his slick cock with little thrusts of his hips. He knew what made Draco whimper in need, what made Draco cry out in part pain, part pleasure and he knew what could make Draco come without even having his cock touched and he intended to use them all. Part of his mind sneered at him for being in love with this fragile human, but his pleasure and need were now all wrapped up in Draco's and he never wanted that to change.

He claimed what was his and tried to give pleasure in equal measure as he angled his pelvis and
thrust deep into Draco. He wanted Draco to feel just as good as he did, after all it was Draco's
celebration. He could feel Draco's arousal and need building and he fed it with every thrust, taking his lover higher and higher.

"Harry, please," Draco begged.

Such desire and want poured out of Draco with those two words that Harry could not deny him,
taking pity and reaching round to take hold of Draco's cock. It was all too clear that his lover
could not take much more and plans or no plans he gave in and took the shorter route. Buried ball deep in Draco, he pumped his lover's cock and Draco cried out, all but instantly coming, his
whole body shuddering time after time. Energy flooded into him and out of him as he felt so
completely connected to Draco that it was almost frightening. He gripped Draco, leaning over his lover's back and came, still seated deep within his lover. His magic ripped free of his control as it had done that one time before and Draco cried out again beneath him as his lover's orgasm
rekindled to its original intensity.

Harry's mind shut down any sensible thought, riding out the wave of pleasure along with Draco
and his skin was prickling in a very familiar way by the time he could gather any brain power
together at all. This time the little shots of lightning were not a surprise, but that didn't mean he didn't pull away and collapse in an exhausted heap as soon as they were gone. He still didn't know what he was doing to Draco, if the expression of power even meant anything other than that he was claiming Draco completely as his own, but it definitely didn't feel bad.

Draco just collapsed on the bed where he was and looked at Harry with heavy, lidded eyes.

"Lightning again," was Draco's tired, but satisfied comment.

"Hmmm," was as close as Harry managed to a word.

"We might have to look into that," Draco commented, flipping onto his back and then just lying there.

"Hmmm," Harry replied, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

It felt right and at that moment that was all that mattered to him.

Sometime later, having recovered somewhat, they were just cuddling, something Harry was
beginning to think he really liked. Having Draco close was comforting and it settled all of the creatures inside of him. It made him feel calm, which was rare in his new world.

"I love you," he said, the words just popping out before his brain caught up with his mouth.

He had admitted it to Narcissa easily enough, but he hadn't planned on saying it straight to Draco.

He had come to know Draco very well over the past few weeks and declarations of love was not
something he thought Draco would be comfortable with, but he'd said it now and he wasn't
talking it back. Draco didn't say anything in return, just lay there, facing away from him as their bodies were spooned together, but he knew Draco wasn't asleep.

"Pettigrew," Draco said eventually, after what seemed like ages to Harry; "he was my only
contact with the outside world. Voldemort wouldn't let me see anyone else, even the house elves weren't allowed to talk to me."

It was not an 'I love you', but Harry got the message and squeezed Draco gently to show he understood.

"At first he just used to come and give me Voldemort's message and go," Draco continued to tell
him, "but then, once he realised I wasn't likely to be in Voldemort's good graces any time soon, he changed."

Draco shifted in his arms and Harry could sense his discomfort.

"It started when he offered to take a message to my mother for me," Draco said quietly; "he
pretended to be all concerned for me and I almost fell for it, until he named his price. He wanted
sexual favours; nothing as grand as Voldemort he assured me, just a hand job or two, maybe a blow job. I told him to go to hell."

Harry barely suppressed the growl that wanted to rumble through his chest, as he thought of Wormtail propositioning Draco like that.

"After that it just got worse," Draco explained as Harry held him; "his suggestions became more
lewd by the day. I think he spent most of the day thinking up what he was going to say to me. He even suggested that the reason I didn't want anyone else was that I was far too close to my father. Now my father may have been all kinds of a monster, but he never laid a hand on me."

Ever so gently Harry stroked Draco's arm in silent support.

"I think the only thing that stopped him doing anything to me, forcing me," Draco eventually
began to speak again, "was that he was afraid what Voldemort would do. He spelled me with ropes more than once and pretended he was going to take what he wanted, but he never had the guts to do it."

"He's an evil little coward," Harry said, finally needing to speak, "and he will get what he deserves."

Draco did not reply, but did move back against him so their bodies were perfectly aligned. All
Harry could do was pet his lover gently and hold him as he went over what he now knew in his mind.

"I made him a squib," he said suddenly, calling to mind the one thing Dumbledore had told him about Wormtail that he had not shared with his friends.

That made Draco turn and look at him.

"What?" was the rather unSlytherin like question.

"The experts in St Mungo's," Harry explained, feeling no guilt about it now, "they think he's a squib now. I think I absorbed his magic while I had his soul."

That caused a glint in Draco's eyes, one that reminded Harry very sharply that he was in no way dealing with a Gryffindor.

"Good," Draco said and settled down again, "I hope he lives a long and pain-filled life knowing that he can never use magic again."

Harry might not have been so cruel with anyone else, for a wizard to lose their magic was almost worse than death, but when it came to Wormtail he whole heartedly agreed.

"I hope they put him in Azkaban and throw away the key," he said and snuggled back down against Draco.

Wormtail dead would satisfy the more bloody parts of his nature, but Wormtail in the same place he had put Sirius, with no magic to help him; that was a better revenge. It was not a nice thought, but it made him feel just a little bit calmer about the only person left that he truly hated.

"There's a spot just below my left shoulder," Draco said, distracting him from his darker thoughts; "it's a bit stiff."

Harry smiled into Draco's hair; he knew Draco was trying to take his mind off what they had just
talked about, but he did not object and moved back a little, placing his fingers on Draco's back.

When he moved them in slow, firm circles, the moan Draco gave was more than worth the effort.

====

It was getting late and Harry was mostly asleep with a dozing Draco in his arms when Dobby popped into existence beside the bed.

"I is sorry, Harry Potter, Sir," Dobby said quietly, "but Headmaster Dumbledore is asking me to deliver this if Harry Potter is not yet asleep. It is arriving by special delivery."

Dobby held out a pure white envelope with gold lettering on the front spelling out his name.

"Thanks, Dobby," he said, moving very carefully to take the offered letter without waking Draco.

He had been on the point of falling asleep, but he didn't want Dobby to think he was upset with him, so he did not show any annoyance. It wasn't Dobby's fault that a house elf's definition of still awake was probably not what Dumbledore had meant. Dobby smiled at him, bobbing a little bow and then vanished again.

For a moment Harry thought about putting the letter on the bedside table to look at in the morning, but then he realised he was awake and that curiosity was getting the better of him, so he gently freed his other arm from under Draco and opened the envelope. Inside was a card, also embossed with gold lettering.

"The Order of Merlin cordially invites
Harry James Potter
to the Hall of Merlin on the 21st December at 6pm
for a ceremony to honour those who have aided in the war against the Dark.
The Order also wish to bestow on Mr Potter their highest award:
The Order of Merlin First Class

Please use the complimentary owl to respond."

In all the excitement he had almost forgotten about Rita's question about the awards and he put the invitation down with a shake of his head. Clearly Dumbledore had sorted out that Ministry balls up, but Harry had no idea if he would go. A few days ago he would have refused outright, but he knew there might be reasons that it would be worth the effort and he would talk to Draco and the others about it in the morning. He didn't even know where the Hall of Merlin even was, but if it meant they could further their plan to get rid of Fudge, he would find out.

Lying down, carefully he wrapped his arms around Draco again and tried to forget everything in
the peace that that brought him. He could worry about everything else after the sun came up.