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. 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. 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 nowhere 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. 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 tri-wizard 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 some form of invisibility 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.