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. |
Harry wasn't in him when Draco woke up, but Harry was tangled up with him, and half on top of him. It was warm, but as a blanket Harry was rather heavy. "Get off me!" he moaned. When there was no immediate response, Draco pushed up with one hand, levering Harry off him. He felt a strong wave of disappointment that was not his. Without thinking, he responded to it. "Well, you were heavy!"
'And as a bed, you're rather lumpy,' Harry thought muzzily to himself.
'I'm not lumpy. And you seemed comfortable enough,' Draco replied mildly in his own mind. He hadn't realised that Harry hadn't spoken aloud, but he didn't want to ruin the comfortable mood he was in by allowing that remark to insult him, so he didn't say anything that might provoke his lover.
Harry didn't want to fight - not right after last night, anyway. "You were warm," he said. Then Draco's words percolated through his sleep laden mind. "Wait a mo'..." he said, raising his head to look at Draco, "I didn't say you were lumpy."
"I heard you," Draco mumbled into his pillow, too sleepy to catch that Harry had replied to something he hadn't said.
Lilorienne had said they'd be able to hear each other... Harry laid back down again, and decided to test it. 'Can you hear me now?' he thought.
"I'm not deaf, you know," Draco replied, mildly annoyed with Harry's games.
"I didn't say that out loud: I only thought it," Harry said quietly with a smile, anticipating Draco's reaction. He wasn't disappointed.
Draco's eyes flew open, and he lay silent for a few seconds, absorbing the impact of that statement; then the blond became a whirlwind of motion as he levered himself around, and into a sitting position to face his fiancée. "What?" he exclaimed.
Harry just nodded at him and thought 'It's true' at him.
Draco was staring at Harry's lips, which hadn't moved. "I heard that," he said in awed disbelief. He threw himself back down onto the bed, then caught Harry's eyes again.
Harry just grinned at him, although he was going through some rapid mental adjustments, himself.
They lay there staring at each other. As the silence stretched on, the tension became a bit uncomfortable. "Well, let's go get some breakfast," Harry said briskly, bouncing out of bed, and breaking the strained tableau.
"Oomph!" Draco grunted, feeling a twinge in his arse as he moved to get out of bed. He wasn't obeying Harry, he told himself, he was just trying to distract himself. "My bum's sore," he complained.
'Still?' Lilorienne inquired.
Harry felt a wave of affection for his lover, remembering last night, but cocked his head, perplexed by Lilorienne's words . 'What do you mean, "still"?' he asked. Draco was listening with intense interest for the answer to that question as well, even as he absorbed the fact that he was actually hearing the voice that Harry had been talking to for so long.
Lilorienne's 'voice' was a bit hesitant as she answered, but they would find out quite soon anyway. 'It's been a week.'
"We've missed the Ball?" Draco exclaimed out loud.
' I'm afraid so,' was the reply.
"Damn it, Harry!" Draco yelled, rounding on his fiancée. "That was going to be our introduction of you to the student body!"
Harry dragged himself out of his shock at the time lapse. "They know me already," he said, replying with a grin, and deliberately misunderstanding. He wasn't quite fast enough to avoid the backhanded blow that Draco aimed at him, but it didn't wipe the grin off his face, either. Still, an unexplained week of sleep worried him.
Draco glared at him. Then a look of consternation crossed his face. "What caused us to sleep for a week?" he asked worriedly.
'Your bonding was much stronger that I anticipated it would be,' Lilorienne replied. 'Our kind slept no more than an hour after consummating their bonds.'
'And?' Harry prompted, sensing more.
'I did not reveal to you all that the bond would accomplish,' Lilorienne revealed, her 'voice' tentative. 'You, Draco, will be able to bear children. The process has begun. In a few months you will have grown all the necessary structures to bear a child. However,-"
"What?" Draco screeched.
'I said, that you will-'
"I bloody well heard you!" Draco yelled. "What 'structures'?" he went on, his voice still dangerous, but now in a more normal range.
'A womb, eggs, and so on,' she informed him.
'A vagina?' Draco asked, a hint of fear creeping into his tone.
'No.'
'Then how...' As curious as he now was, Draco was too embarrassed to finish that question.
Harry had a lot of questions himself, but Draco was asking most of them for him, so he was content to just sit on the bed and listen.
'You will be able to be impregnated in the same way you bonded,' Lilorienne explained.
Harry and Draco blushed at the mention of their bonding, but they didn't interrupt.
'When you have become pregnant, your body will modify itself as needed to safely carry and give birth to the child. A temporary birth canal will develop in the last month of pregnancy. When it is time to give birth, your perineum will split open to give egress to the child. Bloody, but not dangerous.'
Draco felt a bit ill, but buried his reaction in anger. He turned furiously to Harry. "Did you know about this?"
"No," Harry replied, his dumbfounded expression lending credence to his words. He loved children and had wanted one or more of his own, but due to his sexual orientation, had never thought it would happen. This news gave him mixed feelings, however. He was happy at the prospect of being able to have his own children, but it sounded as though it would be a great strain on Draco.
'I'm sorry. I meant to tell you,' Lilorienne said, 'but the time never seem to be right, and then you decided to consummate the bond. I was afraid that if I told you at that time, that he would refuse to bond.'
"Bloody right, I would have," Draco snarled.
"Would you really?" Harry asked, his hurt evident in his voice.
Draco turned to him; still angry, but also feeling a little guilty. "I don't know, Harry," Draco said earnestly, and feeling a bit angry with himself as he felt tears brimming in his eyes, "but damn it, I wasn't given a choice!"
Harry knew exactly how frustrating that could be. After all, that was why he had broken away from Dumbledore: he was tired of being manipulated to the point of having no choices. He was about to share that with Draco, when he was interrupted.
'There is more,' Lilorienne said, breaking in.
'What else?' Harry asked, with trepidation.
'It seems the magic of the elven bond, along with your own magics, have combined, and you may start showing the physical traits of the Elfin kind.'
Harry and Draco frowned.
'In what ways?' Draco finally inquired, resignedly.
'Your ears may get more pointed, your features more refined, you may become stronger, your reflexes faster, and your senses might become sharper. You may get one, or more, or none of these.'
"Oh, gods," Draco groaned, his hands going to his ears. "My beautiful looks!"
"May not change at all, or could become even more beautiful," Harry soothed.
Draco shot him a look, but was grateful for the words. But now he needed a distraction. Fortunately, his bladder gave him one. "I need to piss," he said flatly, moving to get off the bed. Again his backside twinged, reminding him, among other things, of the beginning of this conversation. This time, however, he ignored it and made his way to the toilet. He was aware of Harry following not too far behind.
By mutual unspoken agreement, they ignored what they had learned for now, and went about their morning business; showering, cleaning their teeth, and dressing for the day. A thorough inspection in the wide, full length mirror showed that there were no changes, yet. But although it might have been Harry's imagination, he thought that perhaps their features may have altered, slightly.
"Tempus," Harry incanted. Upon learning the time, a quarter of ten, they decided to avail themselves of the services of a house elf and get some breakfast. After all, it had been a week since they had eaten.
"Dobby," Harry called.
Upon the house elf's appearance, and after hearing their request, they were informed that the headmaster was most anxious to speak with them. In fact, they were informed that the headmaster was furious. They decided they weren't going to face the man on an empty stomach.
"Dobby is being very sorry to bring bad news," the elf informed them, looking woebegone.
They were halfway through a simple breakfast of coddled eggs, toast, orange juice and coffee, and Draco had just adjusted his seat for the tenth time trying to find a comfortable position, when he snarled "If it's been a bloody week, why in blazes is my arse still sore!"
Harry blushed. "You are?" he asked.
Draco blushed, as well. "Um... Well... Never mind." He wished, now, that he hadn't spoken up.
"I could heal it for you, if you like," Harry offered.
Draco pictured himself presenting his arse to Harry to be healed, and the colour of his cheeks deepened. "Thank you, but I'll manage," he muttered.
"You're sure?"
Draco nodded. Besides which, he had other motivations.
'I can only surmise that your physical and magical energies were too busy following the dictates of the bond to completely heal such a small amount of friction damage,' Lilorienne offered.
"Please let me heal it, Draco," Harry requested, feeling guilty for causing his lover discomfort.
Draco, thoroughly embarrassed, looked down at his plate. "No," he denied, shyly.
"But..."
The blond interrupted. "Harry..." Draco couldn't believe he was going to say what he was about to say. "Harry," he began again, "I might complain, and I might be sore, but it reminds me of...our bonding." Draco's cheeks were blazing, and he found he couldn't raise his eyes to meet Harry's. He hoped that Harry wouldn't catch the implication - that he'd enjoyed it. Well, after the initial discomfort had passed, anyway.
After a few moments, he realised that this was not his normal mode of interaction. Normally he would have told Harry to sod off and mind his own business. But it only seemed natural, now, to be honest with his mate and husband to be. He was a bit chagrined with this change, but after a bit of thought, found he didn't mind it so much after all.
Harry was both very pleased and very embarrassed by Draco's confession, and its implications. Not knowing what he could say, he said nothing. He leaned over and softly kissed Draco's cheek before going back to eating his meal, feeling oddly shy with his lover and fiancée.
Harry's reaction pleased the blond, and put him more at ease. They finished their breakfast in silence.
"The man you named 'headmaster' is at the entrance, master, accompanied by the greasy one," Melchior announced.
"Thank you, Melchior," Harry replied.
"It seems the headmaster and Professor Snape have decided to pay us a visit, since we decided to eat first," Harry informed Draco.
"Impatient, are they?" Draco inquired insouciantly, with a smirk.
Raising an eyebrow at his fiancée, Harry grinned. "Well, we have been absent for a week," Harry commented cheekily. "You don't suppose Dumbledore's worried, do you?" He'd never believe that Snape cared all that much.
Draco laughed at Harry's attitude.
Harry wasn't as concern-free as he pretended to be, but he didn't really care about Dumbledore's opinion - he just didn't want any trouble right now. Rising from the table, he made his way to the entrance. "Open," he ordered.
Upon opening the 'door', for lack of a better word, he saw both men, who immediately rushed the opening, but came to an abrupt halt when the guardian hissed and leaned threateningly at them.
"I'm sorry, gentlemen, but your demeanour must appear threatening to the guardian," Harry said, repressing a grin.
Indeed, the expression on Snape's face, at least, was nothing less than murderous. Dumbledore's stern expression softened to amusement, and although there was a twinkle in his eye, Harry wasn't fooled. That twinkle was more of a glint. Still, he knew he couldn't avoid meeting with them, so he stepped back and to the side, saying "Won't you come in?" He ushered them to the sunken living room, thankful that he had made sure the openings to the hidden rooms and passages were closed the night before. Actually it was the week before, he reminded himself.
When they were seated, and Draco had joined him on the sofa he had deposited himself upon, Harry said "I assume this visit is in honour of our week-long absence?"
"And where in the frozen hells of Niffleheim have you been?" Snape demanded.
"That is no way to speak to our pupils, Severus, although the question is a good one," Dumbledore said, his gaze upon the young men steely and cold, despite his affable expression.
"Asleep," Draco replied, offhandedly.
Harry tried to hide his smirk behind a hand, but was a split second too late.
"It figures you would find this funny, Potter," Snape snapped.
"Slytherin-Gryffindor," Draco reminded him, quietly.
"I wouldn't care if his surname was Ambrosius," Snape snarled at the blond. "I want to-" He was interrupted.
"Slytherin-Gryffindor?" Dumbledore inquired.
"Since I am unaware of my true surname, that is as close as I could get," Harry told the old man.
"Your surname is in the books as Potter, and until that is changed, you will be addressed as 'Mister Potter'," Dumbledore stated.
The headmaster's commanding tones regarding something so personal made Harry furious, and he developed a sudden, intense urge to speak to the Sorting Hat. The next thing he knew, he was tumbling from the sitting position he'd had on the couch, to the floor of the headmaster's office. Recovering quickly from his surprise, Harry clambered to his feet and went to the Sorting Hat's cupboard. Opening the door, he spoke to the headwear. "What is my name?"
"Ah, Mister Potter," the Hat said, in greeting.
"Wrong!" Harry exclaimed.
"I beg your pardon?"
"The Potters were never my parents. My name is Harald Myrddin Slytherin-Gryffindor."
"Ah, Professor Dumbledore did mention something of that sort many years ago," the Sorting Hat remarked. "More along the lines of you needing a name, more than anything else," it said. "So you've decided upon a name for yourself, have you?"
"I took the surname of both of my blood parents, keeping the given names the Potters placed on me," Harry explained.
The Hat was silent, and somehow it was giving Harry the impression that it was staring at him skeptically.
"I wasn't even adopted by the Potters," Harry said, "just given into their care."
"And the headmaster is aware of this?" the hat inquired.
"Very much so," Harry replied truthfully of his last statement. It was hardly his fault if the Sorting Hat was asking about anything else.
"Very well then, Slytherin-Gryffindor it shall be," the Sorting Hat declared, cheerily.
Harry grinned triumphantly. With the Sorting Hat's decision, he knew the books would now reflect it. Now he wondered if he could return to his own sitting room the same way he'd come. Unfortunately, he didn't know how he'd done it in the first place. He decided to just try willing himself there. Nothing happened. He pictured the room carefully, and tried again. In the next moment he was standing in the middle of the sitting room in front of a very startled Draco. But the two older men were absent.
"Where are Snape and Dumbledore?" Harry asked.
"Where were you?" Draco demanded, sitting forward with a look of angry determination on his face.
Harry grinned. "Speaking with the Sorting Hat," he replied. "I think the headmaster will find that my name is now recorded correctly."
"You scared me half to death! You know that, don't you?"
Harry's face fell. "It's not like I was planning on it, you know," he said, defending himself. "I just wanted so badly to speak to the Sorting Hat, and then I was there."
Draco frowned. "You have to have better control than that. It could become a problem if you just pop off every time you want to talk to someone."
'Lilorienne, can you help with that? Harry asked.
'I can help train you, yes,' Lilorienne replied, 'although it would probably be better if you were trained by one of my kind whom you could actually see.'
"They still exist?" Draco asked, startled. The only elves he knew of were House Elves: but Lilorienne had been of the High Elves, who looked almost human - the same way that a thoroughbred racing horse looked almost like a draft animal.
'I certainly hope so,' Lilorienne said worriedly, 'although I admit to neither having seen nor heard from them for over two hundred years.'
'We'll have to do some research, Lilorienne,' Harry said, 'but we'll definitely look into it.'
Turning to his lover, Harry said 'I think that when we're speaking with Lilorienne, we should do so mentally. Otherwise we might slip and speak aloud in front of other people, and have them think we've gone barmy,' Harry 'said'.
'Right,' Draco acknowledged.
"You never did say where Snape and Dumbledore went off to," Harry reminded the blond.
Draco shot Harry a look of disgust. "Looking for you, of course."
Harry gave a wry grin, but had to acknowledge that his fiancée had a point. He should have known that disappearing like that would have panicked the two men. But then, he hadn't meant to go anywhere, at all. However, the fact that the two men had panicked, gave him pause. "So why didn't you panic as well?" he asked.
Harry received a somewhat shame faced look from his lover. "I did, for a minute," Draco replied. "I was going to go haring off after you as well, but they ordered me to stay here. I'd just remembered that you were supposed to have got the ability to pop off like a house elf after our bonding, before you popped in again."
Harry grinned, and started chuckling.
"It's not bloody funny, you git!" Draco complained, aiming a blow at Harry's arm.
This time, however, Harry was able to dodge it. He then ducked in, tackled Draco to the floor, and attacked the blond's neck, mouthing and chewing gently on it, growling and miming being vicious all the while. Draco was laughing and trying to fight him off, of course, even while trying to maintain his pique with his bond mate, but it did him little good. He was laughing too hard to be effective.
When Harry pushed up from his pastime, he was holding Draco's hands above his now pouting lover's head. He grinned down into Draco's gray eyes, and then glanced at the usually pale, but now reddened neck to admire his handiwork. He lost his grin, and his eyes went wide. "Draco," he said slowly, and then stopped. Instead, he took hold of his lover's arm and looked at where the slave mark should have been, Draco looking at him curiously as he did so. "Draco," he said again, "your slave marks are gone."
"What? Are you sure?" Draco asked, sitting up suddenly, and almost hitting Harry in the face with his head. After looking at his arm, he grinned at his fiancée. "Let me up," he demanded.
Harry did, and Draco went straight for the nearest mirror, checking his neck. Upon finding it, also, free of any mark, save that caused by their recent play, he turned and jumped into Harry's arms, kissing him wildly. "Oh, Harry, I love you!" he exclaimed giddily. He froze, then let loose and stepped back, his eyes darting to the floor in sudden self-conscious embarrassment. Draco had been trained his whole life to not show emotion. Now he had not only shown it, but enthusiastically declared it. They had both said it before, but that was before...well, that. Before he'd let Harry...fuck him. That word rather made what they'd done sound dirty, though, and although he wouldn't have called it beautiful, what they'd done had felt right - natural - between them; not dirty at all.
Harry reached down and took Draco's hands in his own. Looking at the top of Draco's head, the blond hair obscuring his lover's face, he said "I love you, too." Seeing that Draco still did not know how to react, he drew his mate into his arms, and was pleased to feel Draco's arms embrace him, as well.
It was at that point that Dobby again popped into the room. "I is being sorry, Masters, but Dumbly is giving Dobby orders that you is to come to his office."
Harry laughed into Draco's neck at the timing, then murmured "Bloody old git; still interfering at the most inconvenient times." He raised his head, smiling at Draco, and said "Well, let's go get this over with, then."
Draco was still embarrassed, but he was relieved, as well, that Harry hadn't taken his confession badly. Of course he was just a bit ticked off with Dumbledore, but the interruption had broken up what may have become an awkward scene. He had no idea how he would have gracefully been able to leave Harry's arms.
Harry solved that problem by taking Draco's hand as they parted, and pulling him for a few steps until the blond caught up to his speed.
"Do I make the same noise as the house elves when I pop in and out?" Harry asked, as they walked.
"Perfectly silent," Draco informed him.
Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Not house elf magic, then."
'House elves are a different species. We were of the Thilorien,' Lilorienne revealed.
Harry wished mightily that Hermione were still a friend. She would have loved researching what they had learned that day, and she was so good at it. He and Draco would have to do the work instead.
They arrived at Dumbledore's office only to find that, once again, the old man had neglected to give them the password.
"Well, I guess I could pop up and tell him to open up, or I could try to take us both like Lilorienne said I could, but I think it's time to teach Dumbledore a lesson." So saying, Harry took Draco's hand and started wandering in the direction of the Great Hall.
"He's going to be angry, you know," Draco said, with a smirk. But he was happy that Harry was not allowing the headmaster to treat him with less than respect.
"I know, but if he wants to talk to me in his office, then he will provide the password so that I can get in," Harry replied. "As I've said before, I refuse to play his guessing games any longer."
It was over an hour later before Snape found them sitting under a tree, looking out over the lake.
"Mister Slytherin-Gryffindor," Snape began with an ominous tone in his voice, "do you now feel yourself so superior to the headmaster that you can ignore his summons?"
"Not at all, Professor Snape," Harry replied pleasantly. "We went as soon as we received his summons. However, when we got there, there was no one to meet us, and we didn't have the password."
"It didn't occur to you to merely wait?"
"Did he really want to talk to me, or is he playing head games?" Harry asked, in turn. "One would think that if we were expected, there would have been someone waiting for us, or a password provided."
Snape found himself agreeing with the boy - no, young man - despite himself. "Nevertheless, he is the headmaster, and respect must be shown him," the potion master replied. "In this case, Your Majesty, that includes not wandering away on your own."
The use of his title, not to mention from whom it issued, rather startled Harry, but hiding his reaction as best he could, he nodded and leisurely got to his feet, then helped Draco to his - a courtesy, rather a needed action. "I take it that he still wants to talk to us?"
"He's going to try to get you out of the Slytherin suite," the potions master told him.
That Snape offered that piece of unsolicited information was a surprise, too. The information was yet another. "What do you suggest?" Harry inquired. If the man was going to be helpful in offering information, then perhaps he would be willing to offer advice, as well.
The potions master glanced at Harry's calm profile, then made his decision. "Although Albus is the headmaster, and holds many positions of power in the wizarding world, he does not own Hogwarts. He does necessarily have power over most of the interior and grounds, but certain rooms in the castle are deemed independent; those rooms including the royal suite and the Founder's suites. Of the five suites, you are entitled to enter three of them."
"Three?" Harry inquired.
"Think, Harry," Draco said, entering the conversation, "Slytherin, Gryffindor, and the royal suite?"
"Exactly," Snape said approvingly. "I have also done some research. Insofar as I've been able to ascertain, other than yourself, there are no direct descendants still alive that can enter any of the three you have access to."
"Except Voldemort," Harry corrected. "He's the heir of Slytherin, remember." And since I'm not official, I don't yet have access to the royal suite, either, Harry thought to himself, but he didn't think his Head of House would appreciate him pointing that out.
"A distant relative, I'm sure," Snape replied, "but it's a point. I trust you have taken precautions?"
"I have," Harry replied. He had informed Melchior that none save he and Draco were to be allowed entrance unless they were specifically, and personally, invited within the guardian's hearing. That did not apply to the Hogwarts house elves who had work to do there, however.
The professor remained silent, hoping that Harry would expand on his answer. However, such was not forthcoming.
"Honey bears," Snape said to the gargoyle, when they arrived at the headmaster's office. The gargoyle leapt aside and a revolving staircase arose from the floor. A short trip up the staircase, and the professor knocked on the headmaster's door.
"Come in, gentlemen," the headmaster invited in a serious tone. "Have a seat. May I offer you tea; a lemon sherbet?"
Everyone having refused his offer, the old man settled back in his chair, folded his hands over his sternum, and peered at Harry over the rims of his glasses. "I believe we have a problem," Dumbledore said. "For an entire week you have been unreachable. For all we knew, you could have been dead, dying, or in dire need of medical aid. That snake guardian of yours ignored our presence altogether. Nor could we affect the entrance with any opening spells.That is an intolerable situation."
Harry looked back at the old man coolly."If there had been need of aid, than the proper person would have been notified," Harry replied. "The house elves have access when needed, as you well know, since you sent Dobby in to inform us of your wishes. In fact, you had to have known that we were all right, or you would have had someone camped outside the entrance to our rooms."
An idea popped into his brain. "Did you try to have the house elves remove us?" Looking at the old man, he was surprised to see a hint of colour in Dumbledore's cheeks. "You did!" Harry grinned. "And they must have refused. Did they give a reason?"
Professor Dumbledore ignored Harry's question as he leaned forward, putting his forearms on his desk, with his hands linked. "I'm afraid that having house elves report your welfare is not enough. Your well-being is too important to entrust to an elf. I believe it would be best if you were to move into a more accessible set of rooms."
'Lilorienne, do you have any control over the house elves?' Harry inquired.
'I'm afraid not,' Lilorienne replied.
Harry would have to talk to the house elves himself.
Harry smiled slightly as he thought that there was at least one elf with whom he felt entirely safe leaving his welfare. And it wasn't Dobby. Although Dobby was entirely faithful, the elf's methods left a lot to be desired.
He leaned back in his chair, letting his hands hang over the end of its arms. "I happen to disagree, Headmaster," Harry replied.
"The subject is not open to discussion, Mr. Potter," the old man replied. "You will move tonight."
Harry's stomach was clenching and his hands were damp, but he was the picture of calm equanimity. "I'm afraid you haven't the power to do that, Professor Dumbledore. You see, for all intents and purposes, I own this school. And I remind you again that my name is not Potter."
The headmaster shot a sharp glance at his potions master, whose face was a blank mask, and then looked back to Harry. "And how do you come to that conclusion?"
Harry cocked his head at the old man, smiled mockingly, and said "Which? My name, or that I own the school?"
"Don't mock me, young man," the headmaster replied severely.
"I am the descendant, actually the son, of two of the founders of this school, and the only member of the royal family left alive," Harry replied, now as serious as the man seated in front of him. "That means that I inherit both the school and crown, unless you can show me where the school was signed over to anyone else." Seeing defeat in Dumbledore's face, Harry continued. "I have no plans for the school at this time, and I have no interest in administrating it, but I will not be moved out of my rooms. However, to ease your mind, I will set up a way to inform you, in a way that is not dependent upon Draco's or my ability to do so, if we are in need of succour or medical aid."
"And that would be?"
"House elves, of course." Lilorienne could also have the portraits alert someone, or use any one of half a dozen other methods, but Harry wanted to keep Lilorienne secret until she said otherwise.
The headmaster sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "You may go, Mr. Potter," he said.
"I think if you check your books, Headmaster, you will find that my name has been changed in them to Slytherin-Gryffindor," Harry said, as he rose. He smirked as he saw the pained expression on the old man's face. Professor Snape and Draco followed him out.
"Well done," Snape said, "although, perhaps, you could have gone a bit easier on him."
"And why, may I ask, did I have to be there?" Draco complained. "You didn't need my input, at all."
"Moral support," Harry replied, leaning tiredly on the man he loved. The strain of that meeting had really sapped his energy.
Draco, belatedly feeling his mate's state through their link, remained silent.
"By the way," their Head of House said, "a package arrived for you yesterday, Mister Slytherin-Gryffindor, from Hogsmeade. A bit on the heavy side."
Harry and Draco looked at each other, a rising excitement in their eyes. "From the jewellers?" Draco asked.
"I didn't look at it that closely, gentlemen," Professor Snape replied, with a slight sneer.
"When would be a good time for us to pick it up?" Harry inquired.
"I'm on my way there now," Snape replied.
On their way to the dungeons, Blaise Zabini, accompanied by a few other Slytherins, ran into them. "We need to talk, Pot- Harry," he said, correcting himself, his attitude negligent.
We're a bit busy at the moment, Blaise," Draco said, impatiently.
"We can set up a meeting at supper, if you like," Harry offered.
"That will do," Blaise agreed, now trying to hide his curiosity. A couple of his companions showed theirs, nakedly.
A few minutes later, in Professor Snape's office, they were looking at the package. It was the right size, the right weight, and it was from the jewellers. Harry turned to their head of house. "Professor, would you do us the honour of witnessing our engagement?"
"I beg your pardon?" the clearly startled professor inquired.
Instead of replying, Harry opened the package, lifted the lid of an ornate wooden box, and lifted out one of the objects from the box' felt lined interior, handed it to Draco, and then took up the other. A look of understanding came over the professor's face.
"For a ceremony of such as this, even as simple as it is, the more people observing it, the better," Snape advised him, interrupting their happy scrutiny of the objects.
Looking at Draco for confirmation, he saw the blond nod. Harry sighed. He really would have preferred it to be a private thing, but understood that, in his position, such important ceremonies required that he give up his privacy. He nodded. "At supper, then?" he asked Draco.
"Unless we wanted to take out an announcement in the Daily Prophet and do it in the middle of Diagon Alley," Draco replied, with a smirk.
Harry shuddered. "No, the Great Hall will do, thank you," he replied.
o~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o
A/N: As always, although not often enough, I thank my betas, Phoenix and Keikokin. I would also like to thank everyone who leaves thoughtful comments about my stories. I don't reply to them in the chapters, but if you leave me a way to email you, I do usually reply to them. Same goes for questions.
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