FEST FIC: Eislean cuir stad air (Part 4) - Harry/Draco (NC-17)

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Part 3


*

As it turned out it was past tea time before Dumbledore was able to make it to the house. Ron and Hermione had retired to their room, despite Hermione's wish to learn as much as possible about Harry's new abilities. Draco could see the battle between tact and curiosity being waged on her face, but eventually the tact had won and she'd led Ron upstairs.

Harry and Draco remained in the kitchen, awaiting the arrival of the Headmaster, with an explanation they hoped.

At last, he arrived, whirring into the room as gracefully as always, and greeting them with much cordiality. Dumbledore was nothing if not a jolly fellow.

“What is it that has brought me here, boys? Your missive was rather vague,” Dumbledore conjured us a tea service, complete with biscuits and proceeded to pour them each a cup.

“Well,” Harry began, shooting a nervous look at Draco. “Something...odd happened to us last night, and it seems to have...changed me.”

Dumbledore looked sharply up from his tea. “Changed you? In what way?”

“Well, I seem to be able to perform wandless magic.”

“Indeed?”

“It's not something I had mastered before. In fact, I'd never been able to do it.” Harry was fidgeting, unsure of how this conversation was going to proceed and wary of it.

“Few have the ability of wandless magic,” Dumbledore explained. “It requires a great deal of power.”

“Well, that's another thing,” Harry added. “When I use my wand, or not, my spells are always powerful, much more than they'd ever been in the past.”

“That is very interesting. It seems something has occurred which has given you this power.” Dumbledore set his teacup aside and looked solemnly at the pair. “What happened last night, boys? Details, if you please.”

Harry shared another look with Draco, who was already flushing. “We uh...it's kind of embarrassing,” Harry said, clenching and unclenching his hands.

“Be that as it may, this is a serious matter. If I am to help you discover what has happened, which is, I believe, why you asked me here, I am going to need to understand the mechanics of the event.”

“Right, well, I'll just say it, shall I?” Harry said, taking a deep breath. Draco reached over and entwined their fingers, his touch giving Harry the burst of courage he needed to share their intimate details with someone they had both come to look up to as a parent.

“Last night, Draco and I...made love, for the first time.” Dumbledore's only reaction to Harry's words was a curious lift of one eyebrow.

Harry continued. “We, uh, we'd been together for a, uh...a while, but it was the first time we'd actually...” He trailed off, uncertain of how to say what they all knew had happened. Dumbledore had mercy on him, though it didn't feel so.

“So, the two of you had penetrative sex last night, the first time together? Or the first time in general?” He took another sip of his tea, as placid as if they'd been discussing the weather.

“Umm, both,” Harry said, squeezing back when Draco tightened his grip. “When we were almost, um, done...we saw this shimmering cloud in the room, surrounding us.”

Draco interjected, “Actually, Harry saw it before right when he...began the uh, the...penetration.”

“Indeed? So this...cloud formed around you at the moment of penetration and surrounded you at climax?”

Harry coughed. “Um, yeah.”

“And what happened in the aftermath?”

“Well, it was surrounding us, completely covering us and then...it just kind of soaked into us both. Like, um...lotion.” Both boys blushed at the mention of the very substance they had used as lube. Neither boy would be able to think of lotion the same way again.

“It soaked into you? It was absorbed into your skin?” Dumbledore asked pointedly.

“Yes, just like that,” Harry replied.

“And this morning, you have the ability, suddenly, to perform wandless magic, and you have noticed an increase in your magical power,” Dumbledore stated the facts of the situation before moving on to another question.

“Have you noticed, is the power greater when Draco is touching you?”

Harry furrowed his brow. “Well, I was touching Draco both times this morning when it happened,”

“But you weren't when we were testing it out, with Ron and Hermione," Draco added.

“No, but the spells weren't as strong then, either. Remember, I thought it was passing?”

“Yes,” Draco said, thinking back to that afternoon.

“So, it is stronger when Draco is touching you,” Dumbledore clarified.

“I think so,” Harry said.

“Can you demonstrate for me, please? Summon a mug from the cupboard, and then repeat it, without any contact with Draco.”

“Okay,” Harry said. He squeezed Draco's hand and spoke clearly. “Accio red mug.” The mug in question came immediately and with great speed into his outstretched hand. Dumbledore nodded as Harry placed it on the table.

“Very good. Now, if you please,” He gestured to their entwined hands. Draco let go and moved away from Harry, sliding down the bench to be sure there was no accidental contact.

“Again, Harry.”

“Accio blue mug,” Harry said, waiting as the mug made a clatter inside the cupboard before making a much more leisurely journey across the kitchen toward him.

“Well, that settles that, most definitively,” Dumbledore grinned at them. “I do believe I know what has happened to you, and what the source of the power is. I had the idea in mind, as one of several possibilities to explain Draco and his connection with you. Now I know for certain.”

Draco had moved back down the bench and had taken Harry's hand once more. “You know?” he asked excitedly. “What is it?”

Dumbledore did not torture them further, getting right down to business. “Draco, you are what is referred to in ancient texts as a magical conduit.”

“A magical...I've never heard of such a thing,” Draco said.

“I would be surprised if you had. Such a power is exceptionally rare, and is certainly not common knowledge.”

“So, what does that mean?” Harry asked.

“What it means is that Draco has the ability to channel the magic around him, from the air, the earth, from himself as well as you, Harry, and focus it all in your body. Your power is great because you are now properly bonded to him, but when Draco touches you, the magic flows much more freely.”

“I don't understand,” Harry said. “How are we bonded? When did that happen?”

“Allow me to start at the beginning, dear boy. Magical conduits are people who are in tune with only one other, one they are exceptionally compatible with. They spend their lives dreaming of that person, much as Draco has dreamed of you all his life. These dreams are the magic's way of forging a bond between the two, one that will be completed when, not only have the pair engaged in the most intimate of sexual activity, as this bond is always, without exception, between romantic partners, but after you have become cognisant of your mutual love.”

Dumbledore took a sip of his tea, before continuing. “The dreams, all of them focused only on the conduit's bondmate, and all of them precognitive, function to prime the conduit, enabling an immediate flow of power when the bond is completed. I believe the visions of the Horcruxes, their locations and the manner of their retrieval began after you had both recognized your love for one another. The magic will decipher the needs of the receiving partner and manifest the visions in a manner that best suits the situation.”

“This is crazy,” Harry declared, confusion and awe written all over his face.

“There is more,” Dumbledore replied. “When the couple in question engages in the first act of penetration, the bond is shifted into alignment, bringing forth all the emotions that are within you, as well as your innate abilities. You are tuned up, in a manner of speaking, in tune with each other and the magic surrounding you.”

Harry and Draco sat, staring at Dumbledore, dumbstruck. It all made sense, of course it did, from the prophecy to the wandless magic. Yet having it explained and laid on the line for them was humbling. Finally Draco coughed and asked the question that they were both thinking.

“Sir, if Riddle had succeeded in bonding me to him, what would have happened?” Harry glanced at Draco, meeting his worried eyes and giving his hand a squeeze.

“Such an occurrence would have indeed been disastrous. Riddle would not have been able to complete a successful bond with you Draco, in that he would have received no power from it. However, in binding you to him, instead of allowing the magic to reach its natural conclusion, he would have, in essence, put a wall up between you and Harry. Even if you had found each other after the fact, your bond would have been hampered by the one Riddle had forced upon you, making the exchange of power impossible. If such a bond had been completed, your magic would have suffered greatly and your visions would have stopped abruptly. The connection between you, before you met and began to fall in love, was simply too weak to withstand such barrier being put in place.”

“That's horrible,” Harry said, his eyes wide.

“It is indeed. It is a very good thing that you were able to rescue Draco from his clutches, Harry. That was very well done,” Dumbledore nodded his approval.

“Thank you,” Draco said, looking right at Harry. Their eyes met and held, and Harry let go of his hand to wrap his arms around Draco's shoulders, pulling him in for a hug. “Thank you for saving me from him.”

“You're very welcome, love,” Harry said, forgetting Dumbledore was in the room long enough to kiss Draco gently, just a simple pressing of their lips to give comfort and reassurance.

“Well, now that we have the knowledge of your bond, we can begin preparing for its use. Harry, I'd like you to begin training with Remus. He can help guide you in what spells are most important, as well as teach you some new ones that should prove no difficulty considering your new found power. I would like for you to discover the limits of that power, particularly when you and Draco are not in contact and discover if the power fades with increased distance.”

“It sounds like a good idea, sir,” Harry agreed.

“Draco, I'd been thinking about the need to get you a wand of your own, but I now believe that such a thing would not be beneficial. An artificial focus may well take some of the power away from Harry, or disrupt the flow.”

“Okay,” Draco said sadly. He had been hoping to get a wand as soon as it became a possibility, but now he had to face the fact that he would likely never have one.

“Do not look so downtrodden, little one,” Dumbledore said fondly. “I believe you'll find that you possess a certain amount of wandless ability as well, and will not have the need for a wand in the future.”

Draco's eyes widened, but when Dumbledore gestured, he tried it out. “Accio biscuits,” he said clearly and, sure enough, a package of his favorite chocolate biscuits came out of the cupboard and flew through the air toward him. It didn't come as fast as Harry's first attempt, but it was comparable to his second.

Both boys stared at the package in surprise, before sharing bright grins with each other. Harry couldn't resist leaning over to give Draco another kiss, he was far too lovely all lit up with happiness for Harry to resist. Draco took a biscuit out of the package and bit into it, beaming.

“Well boys, I believe I will leave you for this evening. I have much to arrange for you, in addition to the continued repair efforts. We will have lunch tomorrow with Remus and shall discuss the particulars then.” He stood up and moved to the fireplace, turning around to address the boys one more time.

“I am very happy for you both. Magical bonds notwithstanding, I am thrilled to see the two of you so happy in love. It does this old heart very well. Very well indeed.” He twinkled down at them, sending them a wink.

“Until tomorrow,” he said and then, with a flash of flame, he was gone again.

*

And so, the next afternoon Harry began his training. At first, Remus wanted to test Harry's strength and power without Draco, so he was relegated to the library with Ron and Hermione. He didn't have the attention span just then for studying or research, so he challenged Ron to a game of chess. Their shaky truce was holding up fine, and Draco had been surprised to learn that Ron was an exceptional chess player. Draco had thought he was very good, until Ron had beat him soundly four games out of four. He had made it his goal to beat the redheaded boy, one day.

They had finished five games and Draco was beginning to get restless when Harry stumbled into the room, collapsing into an armchair.

“Harry!” Draco exclaimed, dashing across the room to his side. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Harry said, taking Draco's hand and tugging him down into the chair. “I'm just tired. Utterly knackered would be a better description, actually.”

“You do look pale, Harry,” Hermione added from beside the chair. Harry just nodded, pulling Draco into his lap and burying his face in Draco's neck.

“Well, Remus always was a strict teacher,” Ron reminded them, from where he was setting up the chess pieces for the next match.

“He hasn't changed,” Harry said, surfacing from his hiding place. “He made me go through every spell I'd ever learned, it seemed. Do you know how exhausting it is to cast a wandless Patronus?”

“The Patronus Charm does require a great deal of magical energy,” Hermione said. “In essence, you're creating a magical being, however short lived.”

Ron rolled his eye and Harry chuckled, but Draco was, as always, intrigued by Hermione's extensive knowledge.

“I've never learned about the Patronus Charm,” Draco said. “What does it do?”

But Harry stopped Hermione before she could get started. “Can we save the lessons for later? I just want to rest right now, please?” He reached up and stroked Draco's chin, bringing him down for a kiss.

“I don't think what you have in mind is very relaxing,” Draco said, taking his cue from not only the kiss, but from Harry's hand squeezing his bum, out of sight of the others.

“Oh, I don't know,” Harry said with a leer. “I'd be very relaxed afterwards.”

“Can we save the sexual innuendo for later?” Hermione asked, mimicking Harry's earlier plea to her. “Did Remus teach you any other spells?”

Harry nodded. “Yes, he taught me a bunch of new ones...some of them rather on the dark side, but he thought I might need them when I have to face Riddle again.”

“I don't know Harry, it sounds dangerous,” Hermione warned, always on guard against dark magic. She'd make a great Ministry worker, that one, Harry thought.

“Don't be ridiculous,” Draco interjected. “Riddle is awash in dark magic, and if Harry is to kill him, he'll need to be able to match him. There are few light spells that will be able to defeat a wizard like that.”

“Besides, I trust Remus' judgement, and I know you do too,” Harry added. Hermione pursed her lips, clearly not pleased with the idea, but she let it go nonetheless.

“Are you done for the day then?” Draco asked, running his finger's through Harry's dishevelled hair.

“Yes, he wants to start right after breakfast tomorrow though, with you this time,” Harry said, closing his eyes.

“Okay,” Draco agreed, scratching Harry's scalp gently. Harry was practically purring in pleasure, and Draco squirming against his hardening cock was not helping matters.

“Right, I've had about enough of this,” Ron said, getting up and grabbing Hermione's hand. “Let's go see about dinner, shall we?” He said, giving Harry and Draco another wave.

Once they were alone, Draco leaned down to give Harry the kiss they'd both been wanting. Their mouths opened as soon as their lips touched, tongues coming out to stroke the other, to taste and tease. Draco's hands were buried in Harry's hair, hanging on as he often did when Harry's kisses threatened to sweep him away. Harry was still clenching Draco's arse, pulling him closer and grinding up against him for friction.

“We should go to bed,” Draco said, gasping as Harry's teeth and tongue attacked a sensitive part of his neck.

“Mmm,” Harry mumbled, his lips still possessing the soft skin he had become so enamoured with.

“Not here,” Draco said with increasing urgency, as Harry's lips and hands became more aggressive. “Anyone could walk in, I don't want a repeat of the Dumbledore incident."

The reminder was sufficient to get Harry to detach himself from Draco's neck, pulling back to meet Draco's grey eyes with hot green ones.

“Then let's go to bed,” he said, pushing Draco up again.

“Excellent idea,” Draco rolled his eyes, but followed Harry eagerly.

*

The next morning, Draco joined Harry and Remus in the room that had been cleared just for the purpose of training. He was unsure of what he'd be able to contribute, besides holding Harry's hand for the duration.

“Draco, Albus has informed me that you are able to perform magic wandlessly as well. Can we test that out a bit?” Remus said, gesturing for him to step forward.

Draco nodded his agreement and so it began. He was surprised at how many spells he was asked to cast, both alone and in concert with Harry. They found that Harry's power was not only much stronger when in contact with Draco, but he did not tire, magically or physically. Remus was certain that he would eventually need rest but for their purposes Harry was inexhaustible, so long as Draco was holding his hand or touching him. They tested the distance factor, how Harry's power decreased with increasing distance from Draco, as well as if there was a marked difference when Draco was only touching Harry with a finger, or holding his hand, or pressed against his back.

It seemed not to matter how close they were, just being in contact with Draco allowed Harry to tap in to enormous amounts of power. He was able to cast wandlessly and, as Draco's vision had foretold, non verbally as well.

Then Remus put them through a series of drills, wherein Draco had to cast alongside Harry, anticipating his spell choices and casting his own accordingly. Remus was amazed at how well they worked together, casting often in unison, spells that complemented each other perfectly, whether for destruction or otherwise. Draco seemed to sense what Harry was going to cast, and was able to keep up with him, without exception.

Finally Remus let them rest, though neither of them felt particularly tired. “I think that's enough for today boys,” he said. “I'm sure we can all use some lunch, and I need to talk to Albus about all this.”

Harry and Draco agreed, and the trio headed toward the kitchen, to find Molly Weasley cooking up a storm. They smiled at each other and greeted her warmly. Meals were always superb when Molly was around.

The next week followed the same general pattern. Training in the morning, lunch, then so relaxation in the afternoon. They talked about strategy and the nature of the bond during dinner; Dumbledore and Remus were full of ideas and information, as always, and the other four just soaked it all up. After dinner on the second evening, Dumbledore announced that there would be an Order meeting that coming Friday, as it was time to begin preparations for a final confrontation with Riddle. Remus was certain that Harry and Draco were as ready as they could become, and the situation was becoming desperate.

Riddle was quickly gaining political backing and power, and it seemed that he would launch a campaign against the Minister before long, in the hopes that he could unseat him and take the chair for himself. Death Eater attacks were on the rise, but the vast majority of the population was unaware that Riddle was in fact behind them. His plan to separate himself from the name of Voldemort after his reanimation had been successful; he was able to ingratiate with the magical population, while simultaneously subverting them through fear, unbeknownst to them. It was a dire situation; Riddle needed to be stopped and soon, before he gained the real power he needed to take over Wizarding Britain completely.

The night after their first dual training session, Draco woke suddenly from a dream. It was the first vision he'd experienced since he and Harry had completed their bond, and it was terrifying.

“Merlin, Harry,” Draco breathed, panting as if he'd been running for miles.

“Mmm, Draco,” Harry mumbled, rolling over and pushing himself up slowly. “Another vision?”

Draco nodded, shivering, but letting Harry pull him back down onto the bed. He snuggled right in when Harry wrapped his arms around him, he was accustomed to it now. Sleeping alone was in the cold, distant past, one he never wanted to return to. He didn't miss his parents as much as he thought he would when he'd first followed Harry out of Riddle Manor, but he supposed that was because they had barely been a presence in his life for the years preceding his escape. Harry was all he needed now and, as he'd come to realize, was all he'd ever needed.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked, like clockwork. Some might have felt frustrated with the routine they'd settled into, but Draco loved it. Harry was constant, consistent and ever present. Draco had never known such certainty.

“I am now,” he said, pressing himself against Harry's body.

“What was it this time?” Harry rubbed up and down his back, soothing the tremors and Draco's fears.

“I think...I think it was the battle,” Draco said. “You and Riddle, there were others in the background, but everyone was watching you. You were taunting each other, there's no other way to describe it, and he was furious about something.”

“Where were you?”

“With you. I was holding your hand,” Draco pulled back and smiled up at Harry. “Right where I want to be.”

Harry smiled back. “Anything else?”

“No, it wasn't that clear. I don't think it's going to happen right away, but soon.” Draco shuddered again.

“You'll probably know more tomorrow night,” Harry said, still rubbing Draco's back.

“I don't want to see it again,” Draco said.

“I know love, I know,” Harry said. “Just a few more times, then we'll deal with him and it'll all be over.” Draco sniffed. The vision had impacted him, not only with the immediacy of the showdown but with the risks involved. He hadn't seen if Harry would survive, just that he would confront Riddle. Draco shivered again. The thought of Harry losing was unthinkable, the thought of what Riddle would do to him was an after thought, nothing could be worse than life without Harry.

For the first time after Draco had a vision, they didn't initiate any sex. Draco was shaken and Harry was too worried to shut it off and just let go, so instead, they held each other close, breathing in what peace they could find. The reckoning was coming, all too soon for both of them, though it wasn't soon enough.

*

Draco continued to dream of the confrontation, more bits of information coming up each time. He realized that they were in the field outside Godric's Hollow, near the cemetery where Harry's parents were buried. He wasn't privy to the words between Riddle and Harry, but he did see his parents, and Dumbledore, Weasley, Order members, other Death Eaters and people who Draco did not know. It was disconcerting, that he was seeing the entire picture of the vision, it was not focused solely on Harry. He was seeing it all from over Harry's shoulder, so he was seeing everything that Harry saw.

A few more nights and Draco realized that the night of the confrontation was Harry's birthday. Flashes of their activities earlier in the day had come to him, including the two of them waking in bed, Harry's face on the pillow across from him, his hair mussed from sleep. Harry's bright grin at lunch when the Weasley family showed up with gifts and food. Harry looking grim as he and Dumbledore had a serious talk, before they all left the house for the final confrontation, then a familiar flash of Harry killing the snake, gripping Draco's hand tightly for more than just the power it afforded him.

But Draco could see nothing about the climax of it, nothing to indicate if Harry survived or if Riddle was victorious. Nothing that would give him a clue about how Harry could defeat his opponent. It was unnerving to say the least.

By the morning before the Order meeting, Draco knew the place, time and date of the final showdown. They were happy to be forewarned but the stress was eating away at Draco. His inability to see the outcome was keeping him in a constant state of near panic, even more so because the result would define his future. However, Hermione had come up with an idea to help them relax and have some fun before the big day, all they needed was Dumbledore's permission. There were far too many things at stake to just go without an adult knowing.

So on the night of the meeting, they talked to Dumbledore in the library, as Molly, Arthur and Remus were in the kitchen, preparing refreshments and organising the seating.

“You four look as if you are planning something,” Dumbledore said, sitting down across from where they were clustered.

“Well sir, that's because we are,” Hermione said. It was her idea, so she would do the asking or, if need be, begging. “All the stress has been piling up on us lately, but on Harry and Draco the most.”

“Mostly Draco,” Harry interjected. “He's the one who has to see it over and over, every night. It's not the same just hearing about it.”

“Exactly,” Hermione agreed. “And he could use a break, something to distract him from the upcoming battle. We all could.”

“What have you got planned?” Dumbledore asked, watching them shrewdly.

“I thought a trip to Muggle London would do the trick.”

“Indeed. Go on.”

“Well, Draco has never seen it and neither has Ron, so I thought we could make a day of it. Have lunch, do some shopping, maybe have a nice dinner somewhere kind of fancy,”

“And who will be paying for that, do you think?” Harry interjected smoothly, winking at Hermione when she glared at him.

“As I was saying,” she turned back to Dumbledore and continued. “Maybe we could go to the cinema after. It would be nice to spend some time just being teenagers.”

“It would be a nice break for all of you,” Dumbledore agreed. “However, your safety is what concerns me. So close to the confrontation, and with everyone's emotions running high, perhaps it is not the best time for such a thing.”

“I understand Professor,” Hermione said solemnly. “But to be perfectly frank sir, there is no other time. Considering what is being asked of Harry, and by extension, Draco, it is only fair that they be given a bit of leeway. Muggle London is practically free of wizards, very few of them travel there at all, save to Kings Cross to meet the Hogwarts Express. Certainly those who would immediately recognize and attack either Harry or Draco would not venture there at all.”

“I see your point, Miss Granger,” Dumbledore was quiet for a few moments, considering their request. The four shared nervous glances, all anticipating him to reject the idea. His blessing meant the difference between going and staying, despite the fact that they were all of age, except for Harry.

Finally he looked up at them. “Alright, you may go with my blessing. I am sure that you will take any necessary precautions, Miss Granger, and I would like to be given one of those clever coins you use, in the event that something should occur. I must also insist on tracking charms, so that we can locate you all immediately should the need arise.”

“Absolutely Professor, I'll see to it,” Hermione said, beaming at him. Harry squeezed Draco until he thought he might pop, and Ron was grinning goofily at them.

“Well then, that is settled. I will tell Remus and have him set the charms on you before you leave. When will that be?”

“Monday,” Hermione said. “We thought we'd wait until after the weekend, it will be much less chaotic with all the weekend shoppers back to work.”

“I agree,” Dumbledore said, standing. “And now, we must get downstairs, it is almost time to begin the meeting.”

He received a chorus of thank you's as they followed him to the kitchen, practically bouncing with excitement. It had been a long stressful six weeks for all of them; to have such a vacation planned so soon was liberating.

*

The kitchen was almost full when they arrived. While Harry, Ron and Hermione knew most of the people there, Draco knew almost none. It was a little overwhelming to say the least, more so when he spotted Severus Snape.

“Harry,” he hissed, grabbing Harry's elbow and pulling him close. “That's man, the tall one with the greasy hair.” He gestured toward where Snape was talking to Remus, his face a dour mask, as usual.

“That's Snape,” Harry replied. “He's a total git, but Dumbledore trusts him. He's the Potions professor at Hogwarts.”

“I know,” Draco said frantically. “He taught me potions too. He's a Death Eater Harry, you can't trust him!” Draco was panicking, but Harry just pulled him close.

“It's okay Draco, I know. He's a spy for us, he has been for as long as we've been alive. He's been helping Dumbledore destroy the Horcruxes.”

Draco gave him a sceptical look. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am. As much as I can't stand him, he's on our side.” Harry rubbed Draco's arms reassuringly.

“He won't tell Riddle I'm here?” Draco was still nervous.

“I'm sure if he was going to, he would have already. I'm sure Dumbledore told him about you when I brought you home.” Harry directed Draco to a spot at the table, between Hermione and Remus.

“If you say so,” Draco was still unsure, but he trusted Harry and he trusted Dumbledore as well.

Then the meeting began and they turned their attention to the front. They heard reports from several people about Riddle's political aspirations, and the increasing instances of the Imperious Curse within the ranks of the Ministry. They heard about the Death Eater attacks and how they were increasing attacks against purebloods and Muggles alike.

After hearing it all, Dumbledore took the floor again. “All of this is pointing to one conclusion. We need to put an end to Riddle, and soon. I fear that if he is allowed to take over the Ministry, it will not be long before he makes known his true identity. But by then, it will be too late.”

There were murmurs from around the room; the shock and unrest was palpable.

“However, I believe we will be able to stop him, next week. On Thursday, to be exact.” Again the room was filled with shocked murmurs.

“And exactly how is this going to be accomplished?” Kingsley Shacklebolt's booming voice rose up over all the chaos.

“Next Thursday, I will expect all of you to meet us, in a soon to be disclosed location, to provide support while Harry faces off against Riddle, for the last time.” Dumbledore stood, straight and unmoving in the face of a raucous uproar as everyone in the room expressed their shock, excitement and disbelief.

After a few moments, he raised his hands in an attempt to quiet them down. “I will explain a little bit of the circumstances, if you would all quiet down.”

Everyone settled quickly, no one wanted to miss Dumbledore's explanation.

“To begin, I would like to introduce you all to Draco Malfoy,” Dumbledore gestured toward Draco, and then he had to hold up a hand again to quiet the murmurs. “Yes, I understand any concerns you may have, and yes, Draco is the only son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. However, he is as much a victim of this war as any of us, and has been treated like a pawn by Riddle himself. He was rescued from Riddle Manor and has lived here since that time, helping out as much as he is able. Indeed, his contributions have been great. Without them we would in no way be prepared for the showdown, next week.”

Dumbledore looked around, making sure everyone was listening. They were.

“The fact is, Mr. Malfoy is a Seer, and he has been given a vision of the confrontation between Harry and Tom Riddle. He is also Harry's second and his partner, and will be with Harry every moment of the battle. I expect each and every one of you to protect young Mr. Malfoy as you would protect Harry, with your life, if need be. Our victory depends on both of them.”

“I don't understand,” a voice called out from the back of the room. “Why does he have to be with Harry? If he's a Seer, isn't he better off staying out of the battle altogether?”

“A good point,” Dumbledore answered. “The truth is, Harry and Draco have formed a magical bond that gives Harry immense and almost inexhaustible power. He is the key to Harry's victory and therefore, to ours.”

“What bond? I haven't heard of any such bond, and I studied them specifically,” came another voice.

“The nature of the bond is a personal matter between Harry and Draco. Suffice it to say that it is extremely ancient and powerful.”

“Does this have anything to do with the second prophecy that was stolen from the Department of Mysteries?” Arthur Weasley asked quietly.

“Yes it does, though I will say no more,” Dumbledore lifted his hand again, to silence the meeting.

“I appreciate that you all have many questions, but I must ask you to trust me now as you have done in the past. It is a matter of utmost importance, and all will be revealed in time or as the boys will it. I will send a Patronus to each of you with the time and place of our gathering, next Thursday evening, and ask that each of you keep this information to yourselves.

“We are down to the final hour in this war. The outcome will be decided next Thursday, the same day that Harry Potter comes of age in our world, a very significant day indeed. I believe it is the day he, with the help of his bondmate, will deliver us all from Riddle's evil forever. Your patience and loyalty is much appreciated. Come on Thursday, ready to fight.”

He nodded at the assembled and added. “This meeting is adjourned. Good night.”

And, just like that, everyone began to filter out of the kitchen. A few stayed to chat or talk to Dumbledore, but mostly everyone accepted his words and moved on to prepare for the coming battle. There were few preparations to be made, and nothing more for Harry or the others to do except unwind and train. The showdown would be upon them, sooner than they realized.

*

<>June 1993</b>

Draco was excited. His second year of schooling was now complete and he was almost home. While he liked his school a lot, he liked going home more. Durmstrang was not a place where the students were indulged, and Draco was accustomed to being indulged. His mother always had treats and gifts ready for him when he arrived home.

Also, his twelfth birthday had just passed and Mother had told him that his birthday present was waiting for him at home. He was counting on a new broom, a Nimbus 2001, or even something better. Whatever it was, he couldn't wait.

His father was waiting for him at the train station as usual, but instead of the bemused smile he normally wore when Draco arrived, his face was grim. His lips were set in a stern line, and Draco couldn't help but wonder if he'd done something wrong. He couldn't think of anything, but the fact remained that his father was not happy. Draco kept quiet, unsure of how to act or what to do in the face of his father's displeasure. Instead, he walked quietly behind his father to the apparition point, his excitement dampened greatly.

When they arrived home, the reason for his father's mood became apparent. Draco was led into the parlour, where a handsome, dark haired young man waited for him, sipping his drink with an air of danger that set Draco on edge.

“Father?” Draco spoke up for the first time since his arrival, but was quickly silenced by a look from Lucius.

The man spoke then, with a finely cultured accent. “This is the boy then, Lucius?”

“Yes, my lord,” Lucius said, nodding his head. “This is Draco. Draco, this is...”

The other man interrupted him before he could finish his sentence.

“My name is Tom Riddle, Draco. I am very pleased to see you again.”

Draco shot a nervous look at his father before speaking. “Again, sir?” he asked, his voice embarrassingly shaky.

Tom Riddle eyed him appraising. “Yes. We met when you were but an infant, before I...went away.”

Draco didn't know how to respond so he stood silent instead. He gaze flickered between Riddle and his father. The tension in the room was palpable and despite his desire to find out just what was going on and just who Tom Riddle was, Draco dared not speak up. His father was stiff, his face expressionless, and Draco had learned at a young age that the lack of expression was never a good thing. When combined with Riddle's menacing presence and his father's deference to the man, it made Draco's stomach a mass of nerves. He felt like he was being tested, but for what he had no idea.

The moments passed silently, the air rife with tension, before Riddle finally spoke once more. “He's not very impressive, is he, Lucius?” The man asked, and Draco bristled. “How old is he again?”

“He is but twelve years old, my lord. He is barely more than a child,” Lucius' voice conveyed some of the insult that Draco was feeling.

“Yes, clearly,” Riddle took another sip of his drink before setting it down and standing, moving toward Draco like a predator.

“Draco,” he said, “you will be coming with me, today, to stay for a while.”

Draco's shocked eyes turned toward his father, but Lucius' face was still as expressionless as ever.

“I don't understand,” Draco said, suddenly terrified.

“It's really quite simple,” Riddle explained. “You have great potential, Draco and I want to help you reach that potential. To do that, I need to bring you with me, to Riddle Manor where you will be educated in so much more than they can provide at Durmstrang.”

“Does this mean I'm not going back to school next year?” Draco asked.

“Draco, I know this is confusing to you, but lord...Mr. Riddle has only your best interests at heart. You will be safe and well taken care of, so there is nothing to fear.”

“I...will I be able to see you?” Draco asked Lucius, whose lips tightened into a pale slash across his face.

“Of course you will,” Riddle replied. “Both your parents are more than welcome to visit you, when we are not otherwise engaged.” He smiled coldly, laying a hand on Draco's shoulder. Draco looked up at him, his stomach tight with nervousness. Lucius' face was still blank, it was clear that he was not happy, but he would do nothing to stop it. No matter what he did or said, no matter what he wanted, he was going with Tom Riddle, who ever he was.

*

July 1997

“So, where are we going?” Harry asked Hermione as they sat down for breakfast on Monday morning. “I'm assuming you've got it all figured out.”

Ron snorted and rolled his eyes, and Draco chuckled. Hermione always had things figured out.

“Yes, actually,” Hermione said, sipping her hot tea while giving Ron an equally scalding look. “I thought we'd go to Whiteley's, on Queensway. I think it's safer for us to stay in one place, and everything we'll need is all there. They even have a cinema.”

“Good idea,” Harry agreed. “No wandering the streets, sounds good.”

“So, what is this place?” Ron asked. “Like Diagon Alley?”

“Something like that, yes,” Hermione said. “It's a huge building with all kinds of shops and restaurants all under one roof. The Muggles call it a shopping centre. It's really very convenient, especially for us.”

“What kind of shops?” Draco asked. “It's been so long, I hardly know what to expect.”

“All kinds. Clothing shops, bookstores, antique shops, specialty shops. Pretty much anything you could wish for. And the cinema.”

“I've never heard of that, what's a cinema?” Draco asked, getting a laugh from Harry and Hermione.

“It's like, pictures on a big screen, isn't it?” Ron said. “I remember my father saying something about that.”

“Essentially yes, but it's not moving pictures the way ours move. Each screen shows a film, which is usually a couple hours long, and it tells one story. You can see and hear everything that the storytellers want you to,” Hermione clarified.

“Like a big telly?” Ron asked.

“Along the same principle, yes. And well done using the word properly, Ron.” Hermione beamed at him and he beamed back. Harry met Draco's eye and they couldn't help but giggle.

“It opens at 10am, so we can go anytime now,” Hermione said, sending another look at the infamously late sleeper beside her. Ron blushed.

“Right then, let's get dressed,” Harry said, tugging Draco to their room. He had moved most of his clothes out of the room he'd shared with Ron, while Ron had done the same, moving his things in to Hermione's room. The only adult who slept there on a semi regular basis was Remus, and he seemed to leave them to their own devices more often than not. Harry was very grateful for that, though he didn't have the reasons Ron did for keeping his sleeping arrangement private.

“I can't wait,” Draco said, as he choose his outfit. “I even have all those galleons I got from our vault, so I'll be able to buy you something.” He beamed at Harry, who chuckled at his enthusiasm.

“Draco, Muggles don't use galleons. We'll have to switch them for pounds...I wonder if Hermione knows where we can do that. I don't want to risk another trip to Gringotts.” Harry had withdrawn and exchanged a large sum of galleons at the beginning of the summer, so he was set.

Fortunately, Hermione did in fact know where to switch Draco's money.

“Actually, Whiteley's has a small section of wizarding shops as well, I forgot to mention that. My parents used to take me there after it opened, and they thought I was mad because I could see the door where they just saw a wall. It works just like the barrier at King's Cross. We can floo in there and exchange our money before we head out into the Muggle portion.”

“Excellent,” Harry said. “Let's get going then.” He, Draco and Hermione were gathered in the kitchen, waiting on the slowest member of their group.

“Hurry up Ron!” Hermione yelled up the stairs, causing Harry and Draco to cringe. But it worked, Ron came barrelling down the stairs only moments later. They all followed Hermione through the Floo, having had Remus put a charm on them earlier that morning, and ended up in the large foyer of Whiteley's Wizarding Centre. It was split into laneways with signs telling them where to go. Hermione chose the one led to a Gringotts branch, with a sing that said, 'To Muggle London.' Draco squeezed Harry's hand, almost bouncing with excitement.

Exchanging their money didn't take long at all and soon they were standing on the Muggle side of the barrier. Draco and Ron both looked around with awe...Ron had been through Muggle London for catching the Hogwarts Express, but a shopping centre was a whole other matter.

Draco was rather overwhelmed with the space and the number of people, and spent the first few minutes clinging to Harry like a life preserver. It didn't last long; shortly after, he began tugging Harry about from this shop to that display, wanting to see it all at once. He didn't let go of Harry's hand though, unless he needed to. Harry found he didn't mind; he liked it that everyone who saw them knew Draco was his.

And sure enough, Draco got a ton of looks from girls and blokes alike. Quite a few girls even tried flirting with him, with Harry right beside him, holding his hand. Harry did his best not to glare at them, as Draco was having such a good time talking to the Muggles, but if Hermione's eye rolls were any indication, he was not terribly successful.

By the time the stopped for lunch, Harry had a pocket full of inconspicuously shrunken bags filled with clothes, books and various other items Draco had found fascinating. Ron was carrying quite a bit less, but then he had neither the cash nor the enthusiasm that Draco possessed.

“I thought we could see a show after lunch,” Hermione suggested. “There's an interesting looking film about aliens that we could see. It's packed with action, I've heard.”

The boys nodded, all too busy eating to disagree, but they followed Hermione to the cinema eagerly when they were finished. Harry bought their tickets, and paid for their snacks too. “Least I can do,” he said when Hermione tried to pay. “It was your idea to get us out of the house, and I appreciate it.”

“Fine, but I'm buying dinner,” Draco said, through a mouthful of popcorn. “This is great! What is it again?” he asked.

“It's popcorn,” Harry answered. "They dry the corn kernels and then heat them up and boom, they explode and that's what comes out.”

“Exploded corn?” Ron said, his eyes wide in amazement. “I want some!”

“Here's yours,” Hermione said, passing him over another bag. By the time they went looking for seats, they were loaded down with sweets, popcorn and drinks. Draco and Ron were so blown away by the previews, Harry had to cast a Muffliato on them to keep the other people in the theatre from getting them kicked out. Not needing a wand was something Harry was getting used to really quick. And sure, so he didn't get to pay attention to the whole movie, with Draco asking him questions constantly, but it was totally worth it to see the glow on his face when they left the theatre.

“That was amazing!” Draco exclaimed, bouncing up and down, tugging on Harry's arm in the process. “Can we go again? Is there another like that we can see?”

Harry laughed, catching Hermione's eyes and mouthing 'Thank you.' Making Draco this happy was worth it; he was like a child, viewing the world through innocent eyes, and making it all seem new to Harry in the process.

“Well, I don't want to sit through another show quite so soon,” Hermione said. “But why don't we go to HMV and see what we can find.”

“What's HMV?” Draco asked, but he followed her without complaint. Looking back, Harry thought perhaps it was a mistake, as they spent at least an hour there, while Ron and Draco tore through the store, asking questions and piling Harry up with purchases.

Finally Hermione called a stop to the insane shopping spree.

“This is getting out of hand,” she scolded Ron and Draco, taking a pile of dvd's from Harry and putting them back. “We won't have the time to watch any of these anyway, and you don't have a telly or a dvd machine. Besides, Muggle electronics don't work around too much magic, and we live in one of the most magical houses in Britain. Why don't we come back after it's all over, and we'll get the whole set up and pick out some dvds to watch. Alright?”

The boys agreed reluctantly, but they did have to admit, the next week was going to be busy with preparations, and with the outcome so uncertain, perhaps she was right.

They continued their tour, visiting any shop that caught their eye although they bought much less than they had in the morning. Before long it was time for dinner, and, once again, they followed Hermione, first to another clothing store, “It's rather a fancy restaurant, so I though we'd all get something nice to wear,” and then to an elegant restaurant for dinner.

After a satisfying dinner, they lingered over dessert, not wanting the night to end. Not only had they enjoyed a fun filled day, but Ron seemed to reach an understanding with Draco. By the end of dinner, they were laughing and joking as if they were old friends. Harry gave Hermione another grateful smile, and was determined to thank her more thoroughly later.

They piled into the Floo reluctantly, but still happy to be home.

“Now that was a long day,” Harry remarked as they slumped at the kitchen table.

“It was amazing!” Draco said. “I wanna see what I bought.” He started digging into Harry's pockets. But that had an effect on Harry that Draco had not intended. Harry captured Draco's hands and pulled them away from the vicinity of his crotch.

“Draco, you need to stop that now,” he said, giving Draco an intense look.

“But Harry, I want my...oh,” Draco said as he noticed the look in Harry's eyes.

“Maybe we should look through your bags in our room,” Harry suggested, keeping eye contact.

“Yeah, that might be a good idea,” Draco agreed, pulling back and getting up off the bench.

“Let's go take care of that right now,” Harry said, licking his lips and following Draco toward the door.

“You two are incorrigible,” Hermione called after them as the shouted good night to their friends, headed right for a whole different kind of relaxation.

“I think we should follow their example,” Ron said, grabbing Hermione around the waist.

“It is a good end to the day,” Hermione said, laughing and allowing her boyfriend to tug her toward their bed.

*

Innocent and not so innocent hearts all over Britain will be breaking wide open this morning when they read this exclusive Daily Prophet article. One of, if not the most well loved and sought after wizards, none other than Harry Potter himself, was spotted out and about yesterday in Whiteley's, a Muggle shopping centre.

Captured in this photograph is the Boy Who Lived himself, accompanied by his long term friends, muggleborn witch, Hermione Granger, and pureblood wizard, Ronald Weasley. Much speculation has been tossed around over the years about the nature of Harry Potter's relationship with Ms. Granger, and, at long last, we now know the truth. Joining the trio was another young man, a very attractive blonde, seemingly of the same age as the others, who stayed by Mr. Potter's side as if attached there with a sticking charm.

The pictures tell the tale, dear readers, proving once and for all that Harry Potter will not be looking for a wife among the witches of Britain. Indeed, he will not be looking for a wife at all. Yes, loyal readers, Harry Potter is, apparently, a homosexual.

My trusty photographer and I followed Mr. Potter and his group for several hours, and it was immediately clear that the two were a couple. Rarely were they to be seen not holding hands, and they spent an inordinate amount of time gazing into each others eyes, flirting and kissing, to a degree that many loyal readers would consider quite scandalous. They simply could not keep their hands off each other. The couple were spotted joking and laughing as they made purchases in many shops, all of which were paid for by Mr. Potter, including a rather expensive dinner at one of the finest restaurants available. This reporter could not help but wonder if Mr. Potter's new companion is simply playing him along for the galleons, as a great many were spent on him, in the short time I observed them.

The name of Mr. Potter's companion is still a mystery, as well as the facts of where he came from, and how he has come to know Harry Potter so very well. Is he a wizard? This reporter speculates that he may be a Muggle, which would certainly explain the location at which they were spotted. Whoever he is, he seems to have captured the attention, if not the heart of the Boy Who Lived, much to the disappointment of witches of all ages.

Mr. Potter could not be reached for comment. Indeed, his current location is a closely guarded secret. Harry Potter and his friends have come under some suspicion over the years as regards their loyalty to the Ministry and its time honoured statutes. Potter's involvement with Albus Dumbledore is questionable at best. Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has been known to spout anti-Ministry rhetoric upon frequent occasions and has been accused of forming a League of Wizards. Entitled, ever so aptly, 'Dumbledore's Army', its sole purpose is to undermine the Minister of Magic, the honourable Cornelius Fudge, and to usurp the power of that esteemed position for himself, primarily through claims that the most feared Dark Wizard of our times, He Who Must Not Be Named, has returned and is hard at work amoung us.

Mr. Tom Riddle, recently named the Minister's Adviser and Caretaker of Pureblood Rights, is looking for any information that may be had about the location of Harry Potter or his friends. Mr. Potter's volatile nature is a matter of record, and Mr Riddle feels-and in this he is joined by many wise and upstanding witches and wizards, that Mr. Potter may well be a danger to himself, others and to our society as a whole.

Indeed, the perverse nature of his personal relationships cannot be denied, in a time when we are facing an ever increasing influx of Muggle blood and an expanding Muggle population, the procreation of children is paramount to the sustaining of our culture and, indeed, the perpetuation of magic itself. "Mr. Potter's disregard for the Ministry, its laws, his fellow magical folk, and the very future of the magical race, are so despicable and harmful that he must be contained," declares Tom Riddle, and this reporter must agree.

Any information leading to the apprehension of Mr. Potter will receive a reward, at the discretion of Mr. Riddle. Dear readers, I beseech you to come forward with any information you may have, and to shun Mr. Potter and his associates should you come across them. This behaviour must be stopped, for the good of us all.

*
“Ahh, there you are, Harry,” Remus said as Harry and Draco entered the kitchen for a late breakfast the next day. They had taken the opportunity to sleep in, as Remus had declared a day off. It appeared they weren't the only ones, as Ron and Hermione had yet to make an appearance.

“Good morning Remus,” Harry greeted, retrieving mugs for Draco and himself, pouring them tea while Draco began to make some toast, collecting butter, marmalade and his favorite strawberry jam.

“Well boys, it appears your trip yesterday was a success.”

Harry looked at Remus oddly, but nodded anyway. “It was amazing, yes. How'd you know?”

Remus' eyes crinkled with amusement. “You made the front page of the Prophet,” he replied, handing over the paper.

“What!” Harry exclaimed, taking the paper and turning it over to read. Draco moved closer to read it over his shoulder.

“That woman!” Harry exclaimed as he scanned through the article. “Not only does she invade my privacy and make ludicrous speculations about Draco, but she turns it into a Harry Potter bad, Tom Riddle good, propaganda piece!” He was working up into a right lather, with Remus chuckling to himself as he watched.

“At least the pictures are good,” Remus commented, grinning at Harry, who glared back. Draco took the paper from Harry and sat down to read it quietly.

“And that's another thing. I hate having my picture taken, even more when I don't know it's happening. Her speculation is ludicrous and her conclusions are utter shite. Not to mention all the brown nosing to Riddle, and the aspersions on Dumbledore. Who does she think she is?”

“You're right, the way she ended the article is horrid, and the content as concerns your relationship with Draco is none of their business, but you have to admit Harry, being who you are, you must certainly expect this kind of thing.” Remus commented.

“That's precisely why we went to a Muggle area. I wanted to avoid this altogether.” He sat down heavily on the bench, burying his head in his hands.

“I know you did,” Remus replied. “It was a good idea, and at least she didn't approach you.”

“Thank Merlin for that,” Harry said grimly. “Or I may have hexed her in the middle of Muggle central and that would not have gone over well with the Ministry.”

“Indeed not,” Remus agreed.

“Draco, what do you think about...Draco?” Harry turned to ask Draco's opinion, only to find his boyfriend sitting pale and unmoving beside him, the paper crumpling in his clenched fists.

“Draco, what's wrong?” Harry asked, taking the paper from him and pulling Draco close.

“That, what she did, she told everyone that you're gay,” Draco said in a whisper, swallowing heavily and not meeting Harry's eyes.

“I know.”

“But, they're all going to hate you now,” Draco continued, looking up at Harry through eyes filled with fear and doubt. “The purebloods won't take this lightly Harry, they really do hate anything that is not the norm. I mean, such a thing is never even spoken of. I had no idea a boy could love another boy until I met you.”

“But your upbringing was hardly usual,” Harry said, rubbing Draco's back.

“That doesn't matter,” Draco insisted. “I may have been isolated, but I was taught what it means to be a good wizard, and that included marrying a girl of good parentage and breeding, not to mention social standing, and fathering at least one heir for the family. Love is irrelevant, and following your heart is unheard of.”

“Draco, I don't care about their opinions,” Harry reassured him, pulling his distraught boyfriend even closer. “Did you read the whole article? They all hate me already, well, it's a love/hate thing mainly, they may put me on the 'Boy Who Lived' pedestal, but they all think I'm mad and fear me. Being gay won't change that, for the better or worse, and I think it's a good thing, really.”

“How could this possibly be a good thing?” Draco asked.

“Well, I won't have to come out after Riddle is gone, now will I? Neither will you, assuming you still want to be with me if the whole world knows.”

“Of course I will!” Draco insisted.

“Then why are you so quick to believe that I don't want everyone to know about us?” Harry asked. “I'm proud to be your boyfriend, and I plan to keep you as long as you'll stay...I don't care what anyone else thinks, certainly not Rita Skeeter and her Riddle-loving sycophants.”

“Are you sure?” Draco asked again, still unconvinced.

“Of course I'm sure,” Harry said, kissing the top of his head. “Besides, we're bonded, aren't we? I'm not going anywhere, okay?”

“Okay,” Draco said. “And you don't care that they all know?”

Harry chuckled and turned to their observer. “Remus, have I ever cared about what anyone has thought about me?”

“Definitely not,” Remus confirmed. “And there have been much worse articles than this written about you.”

Draco nodded, taking it all in. “Well, we can be sure Riddle and my parents know where I am now,” he said wryly. Harry and Remus chuckled.

“Yes, I'm sure they do. Now your parents will know you're safe, and Riddle is not doubt furious, but we'll be dealing with him soon enough.”

He kissed Draco softly on the lips, running his fingers across Draco's jaw. “It'll be alright, I promise.”

Draco nodded his understanding and kissed Harry back, just as Ron and Hermione entered the room.

“Morning all,” Ron bellowed, clapping Harry on the back and sitting down heavily on the bench. “I'm starved, what's for breakfast?”

“Propaganda,” Remus replied, as Hermione picked up the slightly crumpled copy of the Daily Prophet.

“That bitch!” Hermione exclaimed when she saw the article. She paused a moment, before looking up at Harry and Draco with a grin. “Great pictures, though.”

*

When Lucius Malfoy was summoned to Riddle Manor that morning, he had no doubts as to why. Seeing Draco on the front page of the Daily Prophet had come as quite the shock, though the fact that he was with Harry Potter was much less so. Still, Riddle was no doubt furious about it, and Lucius felt certain that he was about to be punished for the sins of his son.

He arrived and was shown into Riddle's great room immediately.

“Well, Lucius,” Riddle said, gesturing him to a seat. “Your promptness is appreciated.”

“Yes, my lord,” Lucius inclined his head in acknowledgement.

“I suppose you know why you are here, do you not?” Riddle's voice was cold, a perfect match to the ice in his eyes.

“Yes, my lord,” Lucius repeated.

“This!” Riddle held up the Daily Prophet. On it Lucius could see his son, the best accomplishment of his life, snogging Harry Potter for all to see. Lucius bowed his head in shame.

“Your despicable son has indeed run off with Dumbledore's little golden boy. Not only has he shown his utter disloyalty to me and his disregard for all I have done for him, he has shown his lack of moral character, to debase himself in such a repulsive way.”

Lucius remained silent. There would be no deflecting of Riddle's wrath, it must all come down on him.

“There can be no one else to blame but yourself, Lucius.” Riddle stood above him and threw the newspaper in his face viciously. “You were responsible for the boy, to raise him in a manner properly befitting his station and his future at my side. To train him in behaviour proper for a pureblood. Instead, he has turned his back on it all, allowing himself to become a whore for an upstart pretender. Harry Potter is nothing more than what Dumbledore makes him. He is a fake, and the boy has signed your fate by choosing betray his family.”

“I am sorry, my lord.”

“Silence!” Riddle roared, his rage twisting his features until he looked far too much like the Voldemort of old for Lucius' peace of mind.

“He has rejected your teachings Lucius, and the only explanation for that is that you did not teach him well enough. You spoiled him and pampered him, you allowed your wife to turn him into a creature whose only use is to be a toy to greater men. Yet you did not even teach him the discernment needed to choose his master wisely.

“You have failed him, Lucius, and in doing so, you have failed me. Once my brightest star, you have fallen so far, I can barely stand to look at you.”

Riddle paced in front of Lucius' chair for a few long moments, his silent contemplation somehow more chilling than the fire of anger.

“You may still have some use to me, though. This turn of events is most troubling. I had hoped that I need not resort to such desperate measures, but it appears I must again secure the means to retain my immortality. And you will help me achieve this. I will grant you your life, and that of your wife, but do not doubt, Lucius Malfoy, that should I stumble across your misbegotten spawn, I will waste no time in disposing of it.”

Lucius swallowed heavily. “I understand, my lord.”

“Should you not come when summoned, I will not keep my promise, Lucius. You would do well to heed my warning.”

Lucius nodded, bowing his head in supplication.

“Fine, you may go,” Riddle said, and Lucius began to get out of the chair, stunned and baffled that he was being dismissed without any actual punishment. He assumed too quickly in fact, as Riddle stopped him with one word.

“Crucio!” the spell was cast powerfully and quickly, with no evasion possible. Lucius crumpled to the floor in agony, every synapse in his body screaming in pain at the wrongness of it.

He came back to himself moments later, panting, unable to clear his head or move forward, but determined to do so. He had seen this game played many times, Riddle would tease and torture his wayward minion until the poor sod could drag himself out of the room and beyond the reach of Riddle's wrath. Some made it, and some did not. Lucius was determined that he would be one of the ones to make it out alive. A plan was forming in his mind, the only way he could save his wife. He knew that despite assurances to the contrary, Riddle would kill them both before long. Lucius would take his punishment, head held high like a proper Malfoy, if only he could free his wife from the burden of his bad choices. Draco had already taken his freedom and Lucius was certain that with Potter he would be safe.

“Crucio!” The spell took him again, wiping out all thought but the immediacy of the pain, and the desperate need to survive. When the spell ended again, Lucius was ready. He pulled himself forward, as quickly as he could, attempting to gain his feet, to close the distance to the door that much quicker, but before he was able, Riddle cast once again.

It took Lucius Malfoy six more attempts before he was able to pull his shaking, pain stricken body across the threshold and out of sight.

There he rested, trying to regain the air he needed to breath, the energy to stand and run for his life, for the life of the woman he loved. Then he heard Riddle speak again, and what he overheard would give him the strength to go on, and the collateral needed to secure Narcissa's life.

*

Lucius Malfoy wasted no time in implementing his plan. He went immediately to Hogwarts, to beg an audience with Albus Dumbledore, who was the only person in a position to help him. He wasn't honestly surprised at how quickly he was shown through the gates and into the Headmaster's office.

“Mr. Malfoy,” Dumbledore greeted, gesturing for Lucius to take a seat. “Lemon drop?”

“No thank you,” Lucius said stiffly, sinking gratefully into the chair.

“I must admit it's a surprise to see you here.”

“I imagine it is,” Lucius replied. “I had not anticipated the need, but I cannot go blindly on, anymore.”

“I am glad to hear it,” Dumbledore replied.

“I...is it safe to assume that Draco is safe and well cared for under your protection?” Lucius had not known how desperate he was for news of Draco until he found himself speaking the question. He had failed his son indeed, but not in the way Riddle thought.

“He is, and very happy as well.” Dumbledore smiled and Lucius felt something loosen in his chest. He took a deep breath and dove in.

“I am here to offer some information, in exchange for protection,” Lucius said.

“For yourself and Narcissa?” Dumbledore asked. “Draco has no need of such an arrangement, he is free to make his own choices, which I believe he has already done.”

“Indeed,” Lucius ground out. He may be pleased to know that Draco was well and happy, but that didn't mean he had to like his son's relationship with Harry Potter.

“But the protection I desire is for Narcissa alone. She has never received the Dark Mark, and she does not agree with my decision to support Riddle.”

“Not for yourself?” Dumbledore questioned.

“I will stand up and accept the cost of my actions. Nothing you or the Ministry could do will be worse than what Riddle has planned.”

Dumbledore nodded acknowledgement, so Lucius continued. “Sir, are you aware of the true identity of Tom Riddle?”

Dumbledore lifted a sceptical brow. “I am well aware that Tom Riddle is in fact, Lord Voldemort. I am also aware of his parentage, something I doubt yourself and your fellow Death Eaters are aware.”

“And that would be?” Lucius asked.

“Before I get into that, I would like to hear what you have come to tell me,” Dumbledore changed the subject proficiently, and Lucius had no recourse but to follow.

“As a result of this morning's Daily Prophet, I was summoned to Riddle Manor to receive the wrath of its master. Indeed, he did not disappoint, and that punishment is the reason for my...stiffness of movement.”

“Do you wish for me to call Madam Pomfrey, with a pain reliever?”

“No thank you,” Lucius replied. “It is mine to bear, though I do not do so out of loyalty to Tom Riddle, but as penance for what I have done to Draco.”

“I understand,” Dumbledore said. “Do go on.”

“After I had removed myself from Riddle's presence, I remained outside the room in an attempt to compose myself, and I overheard his plans for me. I had already determined that I could not allow Narcissa to remain at his mercy, but after overhearing his plans, I determined that coming to you was the only feasible option.”

“Why did you not go to the Aurors?” Dumbledore asked.

Lucius scoffed. “You know as well as I that the Ministry is not really concerned with apprehending Tom Riddle. Indeed, very few believe that Voldemort has returned and almost none are aware that Tom Riddle is Voldemort. I am well aware that you and your associates are the real resistance, and the only group with the power to protect my wife, as you are already protecting my son.”

“Let me be clear, Lucius,” Dumbledore leaned forward on the desk, his face solemn. “Draco is an innocent. He is a victim of Riddle, as much as Harry Potter himself. He remains with Harry because he chooses to do so, and that position will not change unless he should desire it. Nothing you or your wife have done will endanger Draco's safety.”

“Thanks you, sir,” Lucius replied. “I am very grateful for that.”

“Yes,” Dumbledore sat back again. “Now please, tell what what you came here to say.”

Lucius took a deep breath, holding his head high as he began to speak. “This Thursday evening, Riddle intends to kill me, to facilitate the creation of an artifact that will secure his immortality. He intends to do this at Godric's Hollow, I suppose in an act of sentimentality. To perform this ritual in the place where he was defeated by the infant Harry Potter, on the day of his birth, well suits Riddle's flair for the morbid and dramatic.”

“It does indeed,” Dumbledore agreed.

“I have come to you because you have the power to stop it. I must be frank, my unease with Riddle has been growing steadily, more so since he informed me that he'd intended to bind my son to him in order to handicap Draco's magic and twist it for his own use. Before he was defeated fifteen years ago, he was becoming increasingly unstable, prone to fits of madness, and I fear that he is becoming so again. While I agree with many of his tenets, I can no longer stand by while he wrecks his particular brand of havoc on the wizarding world in general and my family in particular. He must be stopped.”

“I happen to agree,” Dumbledore said. “And I am very grateful for this information. I will ensure that something is done about it, and I can promise the safety of your wife, if she would be willing to go into hiding. The safest place I can offer her is the very same place that Draco is residing, in fact. If she would be willing.”

“I am sure she would,” Lucius admitted. “I have yet to speak with her, I came directly here after leaving Riddle Manor.”

“I understand,” Dumbledore said. “If there is nothing else?” Lucius shook his head, so Dumbledore continued.

“I will make certain that we take steps to apprehend Riddle this coming Thursday, and I will, with your permission, inform Draco of your decision.”

Lucius nodded his agreement. “I would be most grateful.”

“Excellent. You may inform Narcissa that, if and when she wishes, she may simply come here to see me, and I will remove her to our safe house.”

“Thank you Headmaster, I am eternally grateful for your assistance.”

“And I am much appreciative of your information. I am also very pleased that you have realized the damage being wrought by Riddle, as much now as when he was known as Lord Voldemort. And, when one considers his origins, it is most distressing to consider the implications.”

“You said you would tell me what you know of Riddle,” Lucius reminded, but Dumbledore had not forgotten.

“I recall. I am aware that Riddle had claimed pureblood supremacy for himself, but the truth is that he in a mere halfblood. He is the progeny of one Merope Gaunt, a pureblood witch, though her family had long since fallen into madness, and a Muggle by the name of Thomas Riddle.”

“Impossible,” Lucius said, utterly astounded.

“It is quite possible in fact, and is very true,” Dumbledore said. “Riddle is a halfblood, who was raised in a Muggle orphanage, as his father, once free of the love potion that Merope had dosed him with, denied her and her unborn child. She then died after birthing her son, whom she named Tom Marvolo Riddle, after her father and his.”

Dumbledore continued the tale, as Lucius boggled at the implications.

“I myself was the one to remove a young Tom Riddle from the orphanage, and I brought him here to Hogwarts, as I would any magical child of the appropriate age."

“Unbelievable,” Lucius remarked. “He is the son of a Muggle?”

“He is indeed,” Dumbledore concluded.

“If I was not completely set on my course, this would certainly ensure it,” Lucius replied. “Thank you for telling me. It makes my betrayal seem less...painful, although I am mortified now to have followed him, that I almost let him ruin my son in pursuit of power.”

“I imagine so,” Dumbledore said. “If you change your mind Lucius, you are welcome to join Narcissa at the safe house.”

“Thank you, but I must take responsibility for my actions.”

“If you insist. Thank you for coming to me Lucius, the information is most helpful. You may use the floo to return to Malfoy Manor, if you wish.”

“I do,” Lucius pulled himself out of the chair, his muscles protesting. “Thank you for everything, Headmaster.” Lucius reached out and offered his hand, which Dumbledore took without hesitation.

“I know it is not necessary, but thank you for protecting Draco as well. Narcissa will be in touch.”

“You are welcome, Lucius. Good luck.”

Lucius nodded, before disappearing into the Floo. Now he had to tell Narcissa about what he had done, and take the blame, as he should.

*

On Wednesday just before lunch, Remus summoned Harry and Draco from the library to the kitchen, to find Dumbledore waiting for them.

“Good afternoon boys,” he greeted them as they sat across from him at the kitchen table.

“Professor,” replied Draco.

“We weren't expecting to see you until tomorrow,” Harry said.

“Nor was I expecting to be here,” said Dumbledore. “But I received an unexpected visitor last night, and our discussion required that I keep you informed.”

“Really? Who?” Harry asked.

“It was Lucius Malfoy,” Dumbledore replied, watching closely for their reactions.

Harry stared at him for a moment before turning to see Draco's reaction.

“My father,” Draco whispered. “What did he want?”

“That was most surprising. He saw the article in the Daily Prophet and wanted to be assured that you were well.”

Draco glanced between them, but didn't say anything.

“He also wished to exchange some information for protection. I told him that your safety does not rely on his actions, only on your own and that you were free to make your own choices. However, it was not only you he was concerned about, but your mother.”

Draco just sat, frozen, looking ahead for a few moments before declaring, “That's a first.”

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, but did not comment. Harry took Draco's hand and entwined their fingers, rubbing Draco's wrist with his thumb. Finally Dumbledore broke the silence.

“Be that as it may, he did provide me with critical information. While some of it was not new to us, the rest filled in a few details we were unaware of.”

“I...that's interesting,” Draco said.

“It is indeed. Lucius confirmed that Riddle will be at Godric's Hollow the evening of the 31st, and that his intention is to kill Lucius and create a new Horcrux from his murder.”

That got Draco's attention. “No, that's...he can't kill father, not...I'm angry at him, but,” Draco trailed off, shutting down and leaning into Harry.

“And he doesn't want protection for himself?” Harry asked.

“No, he doesn't,” Dumbledore confirmed. “He told me that his actions have warranted his punishment and he will stand up and face the consequences like a proper Malfoy.”

Draco shuddered, so Harry wrapped an arm around him, holding him close as Draco tucked his head into Harry's neck.

“So he intends to just let Riddle kill him?”

“I believe he intends to show up, to keep his dignity and pride, but is also expecting us to arrive and apprehend Riddle before he can go through with it. Which is exactly what we intend to do.”

“Well, we'd already planned to be there,” Harry agreed.

“And Riddle cannot be allowed to create another Horcrux. Also, despite his grave mistake of following Riddle and the crimes he has committed in the pursuit of that, Lucius Malfoy is a human being, and he, just as every other, has intrinsic value. We cannot allow Riddle to murder him, despite Lucius' intent to 'man up,' as it were.”

“So nothing has changed, then,” Harry said.

“Nothing about our plan to meet and confront Riddle on Thursday has changed,” Dumbledore agreed. “But this does change a great deal. Lucius is ashamed and regretful of his actions and choices, and he is very concerned about his son. Despite it coming so very late, it shows that he is willing to admit when he is wrong, and face the consequences head on instead of running, which is the more appealing option to some.”

Dumbledore was quiet for a moment before reaching across the table to place a hand over Draco's.

“He loves you very much, Draco. I know you do not feel that love at the moment, and indeed, his choices in regards to you have not demonstrated that, but he is regretful and that, I believe, shows his mind and heart better than anything that has come before. Give him a chance, I do believe he will not disappoint you again.”

“Thank you sir,” Draco replied in a whisper. “What about my mother?”

“I am merely waiting for her to arrive at Hogwarts, and from there she will be brought here.”

“I understand. Thank you.”

“You are very welcome, my boy. Now, if you don't mind, there is still much planning to do. I will see you both on Thursday morning.” He stood and swirled back to Hogwarts through the Floo, leaving Harry holding a distraught Draco.

“Why now?” Draco said solemnly. “Why now that his life is in danger, not when Riddle was threatening mine?”

“I don't know,” Harry replied. “Perhaps because he did not think your life was in danger, or he was still under thrall to Riddle. All you can do is ask him, when you get the chance.”

“I will, if I ever do.”

“You can also go home, when this is all over, if you wish. Even if your father is sent to Azkaban, your mother will still be free.”

“Yes,” Draco agreed, looking up to meet Harry's eyes for the first time since they'd entered the kitchen. “But how many times do I have to tell you that my place is here, at your side? I would love to spend time with Mother, and will visit her often is I have the opportunity, but I belong where ever you are, Harry. Ending Riddle will not change that.”

“Alright,” Harry said, smiling down at Draco, who was looking much better. “I'll do my best to remember that.”

“You'd better,” Draco said, before reaching up and pulling Harry down for a kiss.

*


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