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Honour Bound	By : Draeconin Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 42041 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Chapter 1
- 2-Ch. 2
- 3-Ch. 3
- 4-Ch. 4
- 5-Ch. 5
- 6-Ch. 6
- 7-Ch. 7
- 8-Ch. 8
- 9-Ch. 9
- 10-Ch. 10
- 11-Ch. 11
- 12-Ch. 12
- 13-Ch. 13
- 14-Ch. 14
- 15-Ch. 15
- 16-Ch. 16
- 17-Ch. 17
- 18-Ch. 18
- 19-Ch. 19
- 20-Ch. 20
- 13
- 14
- 15
Honour Bound

by Draeconin

See Chapter One for disclaimer and details.

Chapter Fourteen

"Draco, Potter, might I have a word?" Blaise Zabini quietly asked, after they had eaten lunch.
The two in question looked at each other, shrugged at the same time, and then laughed at the coincidence. "Sure, Blaise," Draco replied.
Once they were ensconced in an empty room in the dungeons near the stairs, Blaise threw up silencing and locking charms. As he did, Harry and Draco both had their hands on their wands - just in case. Blaise noticed, but didn't comment. Indeed, he felt their actions only prudent. He would have been disappointed in them if they hadn't been cautious, and prepared to defend themselves.
"We've been hearing some rumours," the dark-haired young man began, "about the rooms you're occupying. If they're true, we have some questions, and maybe an offer."
"Who's 'we'?" Draco asked, just before Harry could.
"Slytherin House. Well, most of us, anyway," Blaise replied, looking him in the eye to ensure that his sincerity was seen.
Harry wondered what this could be about, but he didn't want to seem overly suspicious. "What's the offer?" Harry inquired.
"A possible alliance; provided we like the answers to the questions."
"And what do you want out of it?" Draco asked. This was his metière, and the first chance he'd had to practice it since just before becoming Harry's bond slave. It felt invigorating.
"Freedom," Blaise replied bluntly, and with an intensity that surprised both Harry and Draco. "Freedom from servitude to a madman, and to be able to live our lives without the fear of death or torture hanging over us."
It was a good answer, and Harry approved of Blaise' fervour. "All right, then;" Harry said with apparent aplomb, settling back against an old desk, "what questions do you have?" Harry looked calm and self-assured - the very epitome of a budding leader. Only Draco, through his soul bond with the dark-haired young man, could tell he wasn't quite as confident as he looked.
Draco had mixed feelings about Harry taking over the lead in these proceedings. On the one hand, he had been Hogwarts' Prince of Slytherin; not Harry. These were his people. On the other hand, it would likely be Harry's bloodline and heritage that would sway the decision, and his fiancé was the one who might one day sit the throne. Therefore, Harry needed to be able to handle situations like this, and this would be good practice. Yet again, this was an important first step, and if Harry made a mistake...
But Harry was the head of House Slytherin, House Gryffindor and House Black, and the unrecognised king. Draco wasn't sure, but Harry might also be the head of House Potter, as well. At least he didn't know of any other living relatives, save the Blacks, of whom Harry was now the Head through Sirius Black's will, and his own family. And although he'd have to check the Book of Lines to be sure, he thought Harry had a stronger claim. He reluctantly decided to let Harry handle it, but be ready to step in if needed.
"Firstly, that Draco is now in a soul bond with you, rather than your bond slave, despite the marks being there. Several have heard the rumours from your old House, Potter," Blaise began.
Harry nodded calmly. "It's true. If I knew how to get rid of the slave marks, they'd have been a long time gone."
Draco had mixed feelings about those marks, now. They proclaimed that he had been a slave, and that was a fact he despised; but on the other hand, he rather liked the idea of having something that proclaimed him Harry's - and that rather confused him, that he'd come so far that he didn't mind that others thought Harry 'owned' him. There would be something else soon, but until then...
Blaise nodded. There was no hint about whether he was pleased with the answer, or not. "There are rumours that you occupy one of the protected suites in Hogwarts," Blaise stated.
Harry recognized the question that wasn't asked. "Salazar Slytherin's," he revealed.
Blaise' eyes widened, to Harry's amusement, but that was the only sign he gave of his shock. He had put money on it being Godric Gryffindor's suite. Five galleons he'd not see again, in a hurry. "You're not serious," he said.
"He is," Draco assured him.
"But...how?"
Harry looked to Draco for a hint of what he should do. Draco nodded. He turned back to Blaise.
"You'll want to verify it with Professor Snape, but I'm not a Potter. I was found in a stasis bubble, and given to them to raise," Harry began.
Blaise was now looking at Harry with a very dubious expression on his face. "And?" he asked cautiously, obviously thinking Harry was unbalanced.
"He's Salazar's son, out of Godric Gryffindor," Draco inserted, when he saw - and felt - how reluctant Harry was to say the words.
Now Blaise looked angry. "I didn't come here to be made a fool!" he exclaimed.
Harry had been leaning against an old, dusty desk. But at this show of temper, he was immediately on his feet, ready for anything, while at the same time attempting to look unthreatening.
"Sit down, Zabini," Draco ordered. "This is going to take a while." He exchanged looks with Harry, who gave him a slight smile and a quick wink of reassurance. Oddly enough, to Draco's way of thinking, it helped.
He sat, as did Draco at another desk close by. Harry resumed his leaning stance. But even after everything had been explained to him, Blaise didn't believe the claim.
"That's why I told you that you'd want to verify it with Professor Snape," Harry finally said, in exasperation.
"Right," Blaise scoffed; "I'm going to go up to our Head of House and make myself look the fool by asking an unlikely question like that? Not likely."
Harry sighed, and rose to his feet. "Come along, then," he said, heading towards the door, and removing the spells Blaise had set.
"Where?" Blaise asked suspiciously. He was still more than of half a mind that Potter was off his trolley, and that Draco had joined him for the ride.
Draco smirked as Harry shrugged and replied, "You require proof; Professor Snape has it," as he opened the door.
"After you," Draco said to the doubter.
Blaise raised an eyebrow. "No, after you. Age before beauty, you know," he said, a bit snidely. Have a nutter at his back? Hah!
"Indubitably," Draco replied, his expression hardening, "which is why I insist."
Zabini didn't push it. Ex-slave or no, mad or not, Draco's wand work and Dark Arts training was second to none in Slytherin House. He exited to the waiting ex-Gryffindor, Draco close behind.
"Your vanity is going to get you in trouble one day, love," Harry whispered in Draco's ear, when he reclaimed the blond in the corridor.
"I'm not vain," Draco replied, his voice tight with the effort to contain his temper. The nerve of Zabini! He didn't need Harry's insults on top of it.
"All right, your pride, then." With the mood Draco was in, he didn't feel like pointing out the blond's vanities, but it amused him nonetheless that Draco could deny his pride in his appearance.
"You've no room to talk, with your temper," Draco shot back. To his surprise, Harry chuckled.
"Well, that makes a pair of us then, doesn't it?" Harry replied, with a soft kiss to the blond's cheek.
Blaise, who had been enjoying the byplay between the two, now grinned as he saw the blond unconsciously lean into it. He wondered if Draco realised just how whipped he was.
"Oh, just...shut up, Harry," a slightly flustered blond replied.
A minute later, they were at their Head's office door. Harry knocked. A few seconds later, the door opened.
Snape looked at the small group, then settled on Harry. "Potter," he said, as though it pained him, "what do you need now?"
"Professor," Harry said patiently, "you know very well that isn't my name."
The professor ushered the three young men into his office. He didn't know what the ruler-apparent was up to, but he didn't think it would be good to have this conversation in the corridor. He did not offer them seats. "And what is your name, then?" the man said, snidely.
Harry shrugged. He'd decided on a name, but telling the potions master what it was at this point would have upset his hastily made plan. "Why don't you call me by my title?" he suggested, with just a hint of stress on the last word.
Snape's glance at Blaise Zabini was subtle. So was Harry's nod.
"You know school policy does not recognise titles while you are in school," the potions master replied, with very little change in tone. "I'm not going to go about calling you 'Your Majesty' just to feed your ego, young man."
At that point, Blaise' legs evidently decided to be somewhere else than under him. Draco stepped to one side in the event Blaise did fall, but the young man caught and steadied himself against a nearby wall.
Harry smirked a bit, and nodded his thanks. "It might become a bit tiresome to yell 'Mister Slytherin-Gryffindor', sir," he said, finally revealing the name he'd chosen, "and maybe just a bit confusing as well, given the House names."
Professor Snape rolled the name around in his mind. He was afraid Harry might be correct, but if that was the name he had chosen - and he was entitled to it - then so be it. "You will allow me, as well as the rest of the staff, to decide that, Mister Slytherin-Gryffindor."
Harry shrugged. "As you wish, sir."
"And your reason for disturbing me?" the potions professor inquired. Yes, he knew that the mission had been completed, but Mister Zabini wasn't aware he knew that, and he had to keep up appearances.
Harry floundered for a moment, since the question had already been answered, then, "Blaise overheard Draco and I discussing what my probable surname actually was, and questioned my parentage. I suggested we come to you, sir, since you had ascertained that for me. I believe that has been accomplished."
He turned to a somewhat paler Blaise Zabini. "Blaise?" he inquired, seeking confirmation of his assumption.
Blaise nodded somewhat dazedly.
"Thank you for your time, Professor," Harry said, politely. He felt the urge to smirk, but suppressed it. Blaise might be a little slower to question his word, next time.
"Pot- Mister Slytherin-Gryffindor: Wait a moment." Professor Snape went into another room, and came back a few seconds later with a small, folded sheaf of parchment in his hand. Handing it to Harry, he said "Do not waste my time with this again."
Looking at the first page of parchment, Harry saw that it was the results of the spells and tests the professor had made for him. "I'd prefer you keep this, Professor, for safety's sake," Harry said, holding the sheaf out to the man.
The potions master made no attempt to reach for the documents. "It's a copy," he said flatly.
Harry tinted, slightly. Of course Professor Snape would keep the originals in his own records. But speaking of keeping records... "Professor, have you submitted a copy of these to the Ministry?"
"Do you wish me to?" the man inquired. For a change, the man's face was not registering a negative emotion. It was quite blank.
It would be good to have this in official records, but would having them there cause problems for him? Harry said as much to his Head of House. "After all, sir, the more copies there are in separate places, the less likely they can all be lost or destroyed."
"I believe this is a matter that will require more thought and planning; something I do not, at present, have time for," the greasy-haired man replied.
"Perhaps Tuesday evening?" Harry suggested, tucking the document into an inside pocket in his robes, and sealing it.
"That will do," Snape replied stiffly.
"Are we done here, now?" Draco inquired, sotto voce.
Harry grinned, and moved to where he could give Draco's hand a quick squeeze. He knew the grumpy professor wouldn't stand for anything more than that in front of him. "I believe so," he said quietly.
"Again, thank you for your time, sir," Harry said.
The professor gave a sharp nod, but said nothing. Those Gryffindors had practically ruined a perfectly good Slytherin, but there was still material there to work with. Draco had been a good influence on him.
Blaise had recovered by this time, and though he still looked a bit shaken, he opened the door, and all three young men trooped out.
Once out in the hall, Harry turned to the light brunet. "Now what?" he asked.
"I'll have to discuss this with the others, then we can set up a meeting. Maybe later tonight?"
Harry shook his head. "Tonight won't do, and tomorrow is the ball. Tuesday evening is Professor Snape, and training. Wednesday... No, that's too far away. Gather your people and bring them to the Room of Requirement."
"What? Now? But-"
"We don't have time now, Harry," Draco said, interrupting. "We need to do our lessons, and I'd like us to try on our costumes before supper, in case they need adjusting."
Harry raised an eyebrow at his fiancé before turning back to the other boy. "Will after supper do?" he asked Blaise.
Blaise studied their faces, then nodded. "It will do. I have inches to write, as well. Sevenish all right?"
"It's a date," Harry replied.
"You're taken, Harry," Draco growled playfully.
Blaise looked at him in surprise. This wasn't how the Draco he knew acted.
But on second thought, he really didn't want to know.
"Hm. Poor choice of words," Harry agreed, with a grin.
"Where?" Blaise asked.
Harry thought about it for a few. "Do you remember where the DA met, on the seventh floor?" Upon Blaise' nod, he said "Best not to go in one group; it would draw far too much attention. Small groups, staggered, and using different routes would be best."
Blaise agreed, then left for the Slytherin dorms.
As soon as Blaise was out of sight, Harry crushed Draco to him, claiming his lips. When he let up, he softly said "You know better than to growl at me, my dragon. Now look what you made me do, and in a public place! What kind of example is that for me to set?" The lights in his eyes were dancing quite devilishly.
Wide-eyed, Draco stared into Harry's startling green eyes. "I...forgot?" he said weakly, leaning against Harry for support.
Harry chuckled. He seriously doubted Draco had forgotten any such thing, but the blond had obviously underestimated Harry's reaction, and overestimated his own ability to hold up under the onslaught. "Our lessons are done, Draco. So what's on your mind? And why did you hold back, back there? I rather thought you'd take over the negotiations with Zabini," he said, softly.
Draco shook his head, then grabbed Harry's hand, and started towards the stairs out of the dungeon. "You did well enough," he said, ignoring Harry's question. "And with you being the family head of so many houses, plus your rank... You definitely need the practice, Harry," he said with a hint of hauteur, trying to regain his dignity.
A small frown crossed Harry's brow. "What do you mean, 'so many houses'?" he asked.
"You haven't thought of that? There's House Slytherin and House Gryffindor, of which you're the only survivor, House Black-"
"I know I inherited his estates and monies, but there are other Blacks," Harry protested.
Draco shook his head. "Sirius was the last male. My aunts... Bellatrix is a fugitive, and can't inherit. Andromeda married a muggle, and was disowned. My mother..." Draco's voice had become a bit strained and hoarse. He hadn't once heard from his mother since his ordeal had started. Although not a demonstrative person, she also had never been totally uncaring. It hurt that he hadn't heard from her. Was it because he had become a slave? Or who he had been bonded to, or... Being around Death Eaters and Voldemort, there were so many things that could have happened to her. He tried to put her out of his mind for now, and pulled himself together. He genteelly cleared his throat. "I wouldn't want my father in control, there. Not that it matters. You did read the complete will, didn't you?" Draco had made sure to familiarize himself with Harry's copy of that document as soon as Harry had given him permission to do so.
Harry shook his head. "Too soon," he said, meaning that he hadn't recovered enough from Sirius' death to read such a personal document closely.
Draco nodded, understanding. "He specifically named you his heir in all things, Harry. That included his position as Head of House Black."
Harry was feeling a little overwhelmed. "All that, and a crown, too," he said, trying to make light of it.
"I've told you before, Harry-"
"That there is no crown," Harry said, interrupting. "Yes, I remember. I was trying to make a joke, all right?" Harry was feeling just a bit exasperated. "You're taking this tutoring a bit too seriously, Draco," he continued. "I appreciate that you're helping, but..." He trailed off, unsure how to finish that sentence, and a bit frustrated as well.
"Do you want me to stop?" Draco asked quietly.
"No!" Harry exclaimed. Harry swung around in front of the blond and stopped, which forced Draco to stop as well. He took Draco's face in his hands, and looking earnestly into those amazing grey eyes, he spoke earnestly. "You're not just my tutor, Draco. You're also my boyfriend and... And you mean much more to me than that," he substituted in place of 'fiancé', since anyone might be listening in these halls. The acoustics were strange, sometimes. "Can't you enjoy being with me without always looking for faults?"
Draco was stung. "I am not looking for faults!" he retorted, 'although they're there in plenty,' he added petulantly, to himself.
Harry searched the eyes in front of him, and found nothing but angry honesty there. "All right," he conceded, "'teaching opportunities', then."
Draco tried to lower his head, but with gentle firmness, Harry prevented this escape. Draco's hands came up to grip Harry's wrists, but he didn't do anything else. Harry drew him closer, kissed him, then drew him into a brief embrace. He had felt Draco's capitulation.
Draco drew back. "Let's go try our costumes on," he said, with a twinkle in his eye. He knew Harry wasn't happy with them, and was only doing it for his sake, and to start people thinking of him in a regal rôle. Draco was going to enjoy this little revenge.
Harry had felt that, as well, but decided that Draco deserved it. And it was harmless enough.
The snake guardian opened the door upon their approach.

But first...
As soon as they were in private, Harry attacked Draco's neck. Soon they were writhing against each other in front of the fireplace, and soon after had to bathe, before Draco got his 'revenge'.

~o~
"A wig?" Harry exclaimed.
"It's part of the costume," Draco remarked offhandedly. He sniggered when he looked over and saw Harry trying to fit the wig over his own thick, unruly hair. Eventually he'd offer to help, but for now he was having too much fun. He couldn't wait to see Harry try to put on the costume itself. All those pieces could get confusing.
"Merlin's craggy arse!" burst from Harry's lips.
"Harry, please!" Draco complained, with mock horror. "My virginal ears!" He sniggered as his boyfriend discovered the braes.
"You can't be serious, Draco! These things are hardly there!" The braes were about the same size and construction as Muggle bikini briefs, except for having a pouch in front and a drawstring instead of an elastic.
"You exaggerate, Harry," Draco said, snickering. "Besides which, I think you'll look dead sexy in them. Don't you want to look sexy for me?"
Harry was torn. He knew he was being manipulated, and that rather set him against the idea: he hated being manipulated. But if it would titillate Draco... Finally he sighed, dropped his pants, and stepped into the braes. After adjusting himself and tying the drawstring, he looked at Draco to twit him about the undergarment again, and stopped. Draco's eyes were just a bit glazed, his jaw hung loose, although his mouth was still closed - thank the gods, since he didn't know what he'd do with a drooling Draco (although he had a few ideas) - and his own braes were stretched out of shape by Draco's admiration of Harry's form. Seeing Draco's form in the braes rather brought Harry's...ah...'interest' up, as well. And they'd only just enjoyed each other not that long ago!
With a wrench, Harry turned his attention elsewhere. If Draco were amenable, he intended to consummate the bond tonight, and sixteen or no, he didn't want to risk wearing himself or Draco out beforehand. But when Draco walked over to him, as though under Imperio, his resolve was sorely tested. He couldn't keep himself from responding to the kisses, returning the caresses, and stroking Draco's proud length. But finally he exerted his famous willpower, and pushed his lover away. "Later, love," he panted, looking into Draco's disappointed grey eyes. "I promise I'll make it up to you. I don't want it to be rushed, and we don't have time for anything else." He crushed Draco to him one more time with a fierce, bruising kiss, and turned away again.
"You had best," Draco said fiercely. "I'm so hard, I hurt!"
Looking at his fiancé, Harry had a change of heart. "Don't move," he said. Dropping to his knees in front of the blond, he untied Draco's braes, carefully extracted the smooth, pale column of flesh, kissed the head, licked it, then slowly engulfed it, savouring the texture and flavour of every inch.
"Oh, gods, Harry." Draco's moaned words included praise, need, and a demand for more. Harry obliged him, applying suction, then easing off, playing with Draco's foreskin with his tongue and teeth, though not enough to hurt, before again letting his lover's length plunge into his mouth.
Even with Draco's state of arousal, his previous release prevented him from quick relief. Even so, it was sooner than Harry expected when Draco showed signs of his impending climax. And then it was there, Draco crying out wordlessly as he came, then collapsing into Harry's lap as his knees gave 'way.
Harry held himself in tight control, then gently eased Draco off his lap, got to his feet, went into the bathroom, and submersed himself into an ice-cold bath. Gah! I wish we had a shower! Harry thought, as the cold water closed over him.
'If you had asked, I would have provided one,' Lilorienne replied.
Harry was surprised. You could do that?
'Given a couple of hours, yes,' she replied.
That would be lovely, if you would.
'Consider it done.'
Thank you, Harry thought at her in real gratitude. He shivered, but the cold water was doing its job; he was no longer ready to rape Draco.
(Over the next few hours, Lilorienne would transform parts of the room into an elaborate shower with two showerheads, a wide bench, and sauna, enclosed in glass bricks. She would have to move other parts of the bath around to accomplish it, but there was plenty of room to do so. Harry and Draco would be elsewhere by that time, of course, and wouldn't see it until the next day.¹)
Harry got out of the bath, performed a drying spell on both him and the braes he'd been in too much of a hurry to remove, then went to try on the rest of the costume. When he appeared out of the bath, Draco smirked at him. Harry did the only mature thing he could: he stuck his tongue out at him.
Draco laughed at the uncharacteristic behaviour, almost losing his balance as he stepped into the knee trousers of his costume. Harry smirked, satisfied with his small revenge, and started sorting out his costume.
Finally, with Draco's help, Harry was fully attired in the period costume. He conjured up a wide, full-length mirror, and they stood side by side in front of it. The picture was quite striking.
Both were in the costume of the royal court of France of the eighteenth century, and sported powdered wigs. Harry's was of brocaded black tulle with gold, forest green and burgundy embroidered designs, and Draco's of brocaded grey silk, with silver, robin's-egg blue, and pink embroidered designs. Very plain - indeed, quite funereal - by the standards of that time. But quite striking, by wizarding standards. White shirts with ruffled fronts and sleeves, white stockings, and appropriately coloured slippers finished the ensemble.
But Draco wasn't finished yet. He brought out two, three-quarter circle, black felt, hooded cloaks. Harry's was lined with a deep burgundy red, Draco's with forest green; both linings being of velvet. On the breast of both was the crest they'd worked out, with a slight difference between them. The crest was a Dragon Sanguine Crowned, Maintaining a Serpent Azure Erect, and a Griffon Or Respectant²; Harry's atop a royal crown, Draco's atop a prince's coronet, even though he wasn't quite entitled to it yet.
The costumes and wigs had been specially made (Draco would not wear clothing that had been worn by others), but would be sent back after being thoroughly cleansed, and any hair or other body residue removed (to protect against such being used in a spell against them). The store would be able to sell them at a large profit, due to the notoriety/fame of the wearers. The cloaks were a purchase. Many spells had been incorporated into the cloaks, including waterproofing, fireproofing, the strongest anti-hex charms money could buy, and a weight reduction charm. The cloaks would have been quite heavy, otherwise.
"I thought you said the wizarding world doesn't use crowns," Harry remarked.
"Only in family crests," Draco answered absently, as he adjusted the folds of his cloak.
Harry shrugged. "Okay, so are you satisfied, then?"
Draco turned Harry around and fussed over his fiancé's costume, then stepped back, scrutinized his appearance one more time, then nodded sharply, satisfied.
"Good!" Harry announced, snatching the wig off. With it on, his own hair had to be tucked under, and the wig left his forehead totally bare, exposing his scar in a way he'd never allowed it to be in the past. Needless to say, he wasn't happy with that.
Draco winced at the treatment of the piece. "Harry, careful of that!"
Harry glanced sidewise at Draco, but only continued stripping out of the outfit, then started changing into regular clothes. "Aren't you hungry?" he asked Draco, who was still fussing with his own costume.
Draco sighed exasperatedly. "We're only going to be able to wear these one night, Harry. I wish to enjoy it!" he said, but reluctantly started changing out of his costume, too.
Seeing Draco divesting himself of the costume, Harry refrained from reminding him that the night was the next one, not this. Instead, he finished dressing, then sat down to wait until Draco was also ready to go to supper. "I just can't get over how beautiful you are," he remarked to the blond, just as he divested himself of the braes.
It was a calculated remark, and got exactly the reaction he'd hoped for. Draco blushed. Then he got the reaction he'd expected. Draco threw something at him - the braes - and accused him: "Pervert!"
Harry laughed. "Where you're concerned, love? Always!"
Supper was a rather mundane affair, being chops, bubble and squeak, and bread rolls. It helped that the bread rolls were freshly baked.
"Still on?" Blaise asked cryptically.
Harry nodded, then got up. Draco looked up at him curiously, since they hadn't yet eaten desert. "Just a short trip to the loo," Harry explained.
When he got back, he found that their dessert was that ultimate indignity, vanilla tapioca pudding. I mean; how mundane can you get? He sprinkled it with powdered cinnamon, and put a dollop of brandied cherry preserves on it when the house elves delivered them upon his request. The shaker and preserves were well received by many at the table, though few others used both.
"I think Dumbledore's trying to bore us to death," Harry remarked about the meal, and pudding.
"You think?" Blaise replied, smiling.
Harry wasn't sure if Blaise was agreeing with his comment or taking a dig at him, but he just nodded - a response that was appropriate either way.
Since he had told Blaise to stagger the groups coming in, Harry made sure that he and Draco were at the Room of Requirement early. Six-thirty found him pacing in front of the wall that held the door, thinking of the meeting with an unknown number of Slytherins, some of which might be untrustworthy, and needing a space that would make them comfortable both physically and psychologically.
'Really, Harry,' Lilorienne spoke in Harry's mind, 'all you had to do was ask, you know.'
Harry grinned abashedly. "Sorry, Lilorienne," he said out loud, for Draco's benefit.
Draco grinned. "She twit you for not asking for help?" he guessed.
Harry nodded, face red, but still smiling. "I'm just used to doing for myself," he explained.
"Is that why you haven't asked her to interfere with Dumbledore's spying?" the blond asked.
Harry stilled, stunned. "I never even thought of it!" he confessed. Of course Lilorienne had long since protected Harry and Draco from Dumbledore's attention on her own initiative, but they didn't know that.
Lilorienne, can you stop Dumbledore from getting any information from the school? Harry asked.
'From the portraits, ghosts and other magical artifacts, yes,' she replied, 'but not from spells he sets or from other people.'
Can you warn us if there are any such spells on or around us?
'Since I'd see him cast them, yes,' she replied.
Then, if you would, could you please stop what information reporting to Dumbledore that you are able to affect, and warn us of anything you can? Harry requested.
'Of course.'
Thank you.
"Well?" Draco asked, when he saw Harry relax.
"It's done," Harry said, with a smirk.

o~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o

1. The Room of Requirement was spelled into being by the Founders for its specific purpose. For Lilorienne herself to change anything takes time.

2. A crowned purple and/or red dragon and a gold griffon reared up on their hind feet, wings swept out behind them, and peacefully facing each other. The dragon holds a blue snake ready to strike in one forefoot. In heraldry everything, including the colours, has a meaning.

A/N: For those wondering about the royal rooms: They can only be entered by the seated ruler and his/her family. Harry hasn't been officially seated, yet.

o~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o
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Honour Bound