Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Chosen Chains	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 12196 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I am not making any money from this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Thank you again for all the reviews! This is the last
chapter of Chosen Chains. I hope that
you�ve enjoyed it.

Chapter Seven�Through
the Fire

�� Mr.
Weasley will be fine.�

�� Harry
nodded shortly. He didn�t trust the Ministry Healer that they�d hired to
preside in the hospital wing for the moment nearly as much as he�d trusted
Madam Pomfrey, but he reckoned there wasn�t much one could do to mess up a
broken leg. And as far as the Ministry knew, Ron and Hermione had cooperated
with them in the past few years and hadn�t turned against them in open
rebellion as Harry had. They would have no reason to deny or delay Ron�s
treatment.

�� All right,
mate?� he asked, as the Healer moved away and he could look down into Ron�s
face, which was tight with pain.

�� Ron sighed
and nodded. He reached out one hand. Hermione took it up at once and kissed the
back of it, shaking her head. Her eyes shone with tears and with irritation,
both. Harry thought she was trying not to react with a scolding now that the
danger was past.

�� It might
mean that I can�t help you for a few days, though,� Ron said. �Are you going to
search without us?�

�� Harry could
feel Hermione glance at him, though he was no longer looking in her direction.
Her fingers on Ron�s hand were suddenly still, her stare so pointed that he
thought he might have cut himself on it if he turned his head.

�� Any answer
that he could give to this would be fraught, so Harry chose his words
carefully. �It will depend on how hard the riddle is, and if Malfoy and I think
we could handle it on our own. We did manage most of the battle in the
Slytherin common room on our own.� He looked at Ron�s leg and raised his
eyebrows again.

�� We want to
be there,� Hermione said fiercely. �Promise that you won�t run off and do it on
your own?�

�� I don�t
know what Malfoy might demand,� Harry said. He had the feeling he was using
Malfoy as a shield, surely an unworthy thing to do, but on the other hand, he
didn�t feel like being caught in a tug-of-war between his friends and Malfoy.

�� It doesn�t
matter,� Hermione said in a low voice. �Whatever he demands, all you have to do
is refuse him.�

�� Harry
bristled in silence. They were just becoming friends again; he wouldn�t let her
order him around the way she had tried, sometimes, to do in the past.

�� Maybe Ron
sensed that, because he sat up and said, �If you can�t promise us, mate, then
will you at least tell us before you
go dashing off into danger again? Send us an owl, or Floo us. I�ll be here for
the next day at least, if you can�t find Hermione.� He was glancing appealingly
back and forth between them, and Harry knew that he was trying to make peace.

�� Harry
hesitated, then nodded. It would cost him nothing to make that promise, and he
thought he could keep it. He did want
to be close to his friends again, he told himself. He wasn�t going to leave
them behind if he could help it. The problem was that maybe he couldn�t help
it, and then he didn�t want to put up with the endless assignments of blame,
either.

�� As long as
they knew that he wouldn�t do that�and maybe he should tell them�then he could
live with the telling.

�� Fine,� he
said. �Just keep in mind that it might happen suddenly, or Malfoy might go off
and investigate on his own without telling me. Don�t scold me if it does.� He
stared directly at Hermione, who gave him a little smile, as if the words had
restored her confidence and cheer.

�� I don�t
think he�ll do anything on his own if he has the option to work with you,� she
said, with a tilt of her head. �I�ve never seen someone watch you like that, as
if he had to figure you out and knew that he wanted to possess you at the same
time.�

�� Harry
coughed, feeling his face flush, and stood up. �I�m sorry this happened, mate,�
he told Ron. �Rest easy.� He nodded to Hermione, not sure what he should say to
her, and then left the room.

�� He went
straight to the rooms in the dungeon that had been Snape�s. He wanted to see
what the riddle was, at least, and start thinking about it in detail. If
unexpected revelations came to him or Malfoy on the spot and meant they had to
go on their solitary adventure, he wasn�t going to complain.

*

�� Draco had
deliberately retreated to his rooms and decided to wait there for Potter. He
wasn�t going to trail at the man�s heels. If he was sincere about wanting
something more than a momentary, fleeting connection�if he wanted to do more
than solve riddles and secure the future of Hogwarts together�then he would
follow Draco for once.

�� Severus�s
portrait sneered down from the wall, but he didn�t say anything. He didn�t need
to, when all his malice was contained in that sneer. Draco spun the cup of tea
he had ordered from a house-elf hard enough to fling a few drops into the
corners and responded with a raised eyebrow.

�� The knock
came on the door.

�� It was
Severus�s turn to frown, disconcerted. Draco reckoned his smile was bigger and
more smug than the relatively minor victory warranted as he stood and crossed
the carpet between him and the door, but he didn�t care. His fingers yearned towards
the knob. It was a struggle to force himself to stand still for a few seconds,
breathing slowly and indifferently, before he opened it.

�� Potter was
there, and gave him a quick smile, starting to step in. �Have you opened the
bubble yet?� he asked.

�� Draco
leaned forwards and brought his hands into play, seizing Potter�s shoulders. He
felt the ripple of cloth and the startled intake of Potter�s breath before
their lips met.

�� Potter
shuddered like a cat stretching and then reached up and put his hands in their
own places on Draco�s shoulders. Draco leaned heavily against him. He had
touched Potter more than the other way around so far�after all, Potter had been
bound during their encounter in the Room of Requirement�and he had wondered if
it would be strange to feel Potter�s hands.

�� It felt
wonderful, at least in the same way that the ache in his cock felt wonderful
rather than annoying.

�� Potter
tried to steer him into the middle of the room, perhaps intending to press him
against a wall or a chair. But Draco had no intention of upsetting the books,
or of tipping over a cauldron where he was conducting important research, which
seemed at least possible when kissing Harry Potter. He stiffened his stance and
slid a leg forwards, hooking his foot around Potter�s left ankle.

�� Potter
stumbled, and Draco caught him before he could fall completely and pressed his
mouth into Potter�s neck. Potter arched up to him, twisting to the side, lips
opening and closing. Draco took the invitation and plunged his tongue in.

�� Strong
hands gripping and groping him, a tongue rising in answer to his own, and
Potter sighed into his ear. He tried to say something, but the words were,
understandably, muffled by their snogging. Draco turned him to the side, got
him comfortably trapped against a high-backed chair, and proceeded to drive
away Potter�s instincts to speak and ruin things with sharp, coordinated jabs
of his tongue.

�� That feels
so good,� Potter said, tearing away
his head at last and arching backwards. His voice was a groan. He was shifting
restlessly, probing at Draco�s hip with his erection as if in imitation of what
their tongues had been doing. �How can�how can you feel that good?�

�� Your body
responds to mine,� Draco said. He managed to get the words out calmly, which he
thought was a credit to his self-discipline. He wouldn�t have blamed himself
for simply throwing Potter down and taking him right there, with sharp thrusts
and grunts of mutual satisfaction. �I noticed that when we had sex.�

�� It
responds to the chains,� Potter corrected him, an unfortunate stubborn look in
his eyes, and suddenly acted as if he wanted to back away.

�� Draco
stopped that retreat with a lazy circling of his tongue along the edge of
Potter�s chin, and then closed his teeth down for a soft, punishing bite. He
replaced his teeth so quickly with sucking lips, though, that Potter couldn�t
have much to complain about.

�� I don�t�I
didn�t know you wanted to do things like this,� Potter said, when he could pull
back. Draco moaned aloud; the red color of Potter�s lips against his dusky face
demanded it. Potter flushed in what looked like pleasure and half-closed his
eyes. �Kissing seems so normal compared
to what we�re going to�I mean, we might share.�

�� Irritated,
Draco nipped at Potter�s neck harder than he needed to, and then cupped
Potter�s hip and arse with a single greedy hand, grasping firmly enough to make
him yelp. �I want you to stop using that word,� he whispered. �Normal has nothing to do
with this. It has to do with longing and desire. As long as we both want this,
what should make it abnormal?�

�� Potter
closed his eyes fully. �Nothing is that simple, Malfoy,� he said, with enough
coherency to prove that he was clear-headed despite Draco�s best efforts. Draco
wondered what he should redouble, the assaults of his hand or mouth, and
settled for resting his cock along Potter�s hip and simply leaving it there. It
worked the way he had intended, with Potter�s eyelids trembling. �You know
that. We might wish it was, but there�s still my friends, and a world out there
that�s going to think of us in all the ways that we don�t want and we can�t
escape.�

�� They�ll
think and talk of us, certainly.� Draco stroked Potter�s spine. It felt oddly
prominent, and he wondered if that was simply Potter�s body type or if he
didn�t eat enough. �That need not control the way we act in private unless we
want to let it.�

�� Potter
grimaced. �It has to. For me, it has to.�

�� Draco
laughed harshly at him and leaned down to rest his teeth along Potter�s throat
in much the same way he was resting his cock on his hip, not tearing or biting,
but letting him feel the pressure. �Why? After what you said about standing up
to your friends and claiming what you need, I had thought you were past this
foolishness.�

�� I can�t
jump into bed with you again,� Potter said, and turned to the side, slipping
away like a shadow.

�� Draco
controlled his reaction to that. If he snapped or shouted or waved his arms
about, Potter would win. He forced himself to watch with indifferent eyes while
Potter smoothed down his hair and shook his head, as if that would banish all
the deviant desires from his mind. Then he said, �It seems that you do very
poorly at keeping your promises.�

�� Potter was
facing him again in a moment, one of those rapid movements he so often
performed without seeming to perform, his eyes wide and wary. �What do you
mean?�

�� Draco took
his time looking up and down Potter�s body. He could still make out the
half-hard bulge at Potter�s crotch, and bit the inside of his cheek to avoid
drawing attention to it. It would serve his purpose little if all he did was
make Potter retreat defensively.

�� You made promises
to your friends that you would stand up for yourself and make them leave you
alone,� he said. �You made a promise to me that you would attempt being with
me. So far, you�ve kept neither, and the promises are only a few hours old. Not
a good record.�

�� Potter
curled his hands into fists, but the sharp retort that Draco expected didn�t
come. �You have no idea how hard this is for me,� he whispered.

�� Draco
paused. �Don�t I?� he asked. If Potter could be human and accommodating, Draco
could be the same way. But he needed proof
that that was the source of Potter�s confusion and reluctance, rather than
sheer stubborn adherence to outdated Gryffindor standards.

�� You
don�t.� Potter turned and sat down in the chair he usually took, throwing a
wary glance at Severus�s avidly watching portrait for the first time. �Do we
have to speak with him in the room?�

�� Oh, he
won�t betray us,� Draco said, and smiled at Severus over his shoulder. �I know
too many secrets about him. But if you want him to go elsewhere, then he can.�

�� You favor
the living over me,� Severus said, drawing himself up with a stiffness that
couldn�t conceal the flaring curiosity in his eyes.

�� Got it in
one,� Draco said, and waited until he snorted and stalked to the side of the
frame. Then he conjured a cloth to hang over the frame for good measure and sat
down in the chair in front of Potter. For long moments, Potter remained still,
but Draco could see his flexing throat, and knew a confession was coming.

�� I know
what this looks like,� Potter muttered. �But it isn�t that I�m turning my back
on those promises. It�s that I�m trying to change in a single day everything
I�ve thought about my sexuality. I mean�it wouldn�t bother you if we had sex
when I wasn�t angry.�

�� Not at all,� Draco said, and deepened his voice
on the last word in a way that made Potter look up at him with parted lips and
steadily flushing cheeks, until he seemed to catch himself by force and looked
away, shaking his head.

�� Oh. Um.�
Potter swung his legs. �And yet, for the past few years, that�s almost the only
time I�ve had sex. There were a few other times, too, but they were rare, and
that was still just for the easing of bodily needs. I never thought I would
have more than that, and going from resignation to acceptance isn�t easy.�

�� I see,�
Draco said, though inwardly he was stunned that Potter had never thought to
look into asking someone else if they
might want more from him than the chains. He reached out and put his hand on
Potter�s arm, though it meant he had to stretch quite a distance from his
chair. Potter started and looked up with eyes that were almost guilty. �Very
well. Then I would like to say that, yes, I would very much like to fuck you
right now, chains or no chains, and will, if you�ll allow me.�

�� God,�
Potter said, and slumped weakly against the back of the chair.

�� Is that a
yes?� Draco asked quietly. He was not going to make a move until he knew that
it would be welcomed. He could understand Potter�s doubts and hesitations, but
that didn�t mean that he needed to put up with them more than necessary. If
Potter wanted him, then he would have to ask.

�� Potter�s
eyes blazed open suddenly, and he began nodding so hard that Draco might have
feared he would break his neck if not for the support of the chair. �Get over
here and fuck me,� he said.

�� Draco
didn�t need to be told twice.

*

�� Harry
almost thought he had forgotten how to have normal sex�no, wait, he should
probably call it ordinary sex, because he didn�t think Malfoy would be pleased
if he used the word �normal,� even in his head.

�� He
automatically reached up as if there were chains on the back of the chair that
he could attach his wrists with, and then brought his arms down and flushed as
he realized there weren�t. Malfoy was on him by that point, his eyes focused
and his smile vaguely frightening. To give his hands something to do, Harry
began to unbutton his shirt.

�� Malfoy
still used a forceful hand on his jaw when he wanted to tilt Harry�s head back
and kiss him, which was fine with Harry, giving him one familiar thing to cling
to in the sea of strangeness. He let Malfoy compress his mouth and stroke
inside it with his tongue, and battled back in the cramped space he had. Then
he dragged his shirt off over his head and forced Malfoy to back away briefly.

�� See, you
do have more control,� Malfoy murmured as he began to strip. His eyes were
intense, and Harry found it hard to tell whether he was irritated or not. Harry
decided to proceed as if he wasn�t and reached down to unbutton his trousers.

�� So, are we
going to Transfigure the chair into a bed, or what?� Harry asked. He had taken
up Malfoy�s invitation because he wanted to and because he was sick of being
afraid, but he had to admit that Malfoy�s rooms offered fewer opportunities for
being comfortable than the Room of Requirement did.

�� Of course
not,� Malfoy said. �We�re going to have sex in the chair.�

�� Harry
blinked. That wasn�t something he had ever done. �And how does that work?� he
asked cautiously.

�� Malfoy
tossed back his head and laughed. �You should see your face!�

�� Harry
grunted and bent down to remove his shoes, which he only now realized he should have done before his trousers were halfway
down his legs. He didn�t care if Malfoy made fun of him, he told himself
fiercely. He really didn�t. He had done worse than this in his time.

�� But did he want
to go into the first session with the new lover that he had actually chosen
determined to grit his teeth and bear it?

�� No.

�� Harry took
a few huffing breaths and shut his eyes. Then he opened them and looked at
Malfoy�s hard cock, which his undressing had revealed, and let himself think of
the way that it would taste and feel, sliding along his palm.

�� His mouth
began to water, and his cheeks felt empty. Harry bit his lip and began pushing
his pants and trousers down his legs again.

�� Malfoy gave
him a smile that might have had a touch of relief to it, and jutted his hips
forwards. �You didn�t get a proper look at me last time,� he said, when Harry
stared at him. �I think you should this time.�

�� Harry
coughed, his face flushing. He couldn�t remember the last time a lover had been
that straightforward and sounded so unabashed and smug. Of course, most of the
time the words he exchanged with his lovers were restricted to orders.

�� So he
looked, letting his eyes trace the veins in Malfoy�s cock, the flushed color
that alternated from pink to red on various parts of the flesh, and the way
that it was wet and smooth at the tip. He discovered that he had reached down
and started squeezing himself in a regular pattern without even noticing.

�� Yes,
that�s it,� Malfoy said softly. �That�s what I wanted.� He leaned forwards and
covered Harry�s mouth with his, then reached out to help Harry get his clothes
off. Harry found himself jumping when their fingers brushed against each
other�s, as though Malfoy carried lightning in his hands. He pressed closer and
moaned helplessly. Malfoy pulled back and shook hair out of his eyes, staring
at Harry.

�� You don�t
need chains to bind me,� Harry said.

�� Malfoy made
the chair rock by driving himself backwards then, which made Harry wonder,
again, about how sex in a chair would work. But he felt it was better to give
in and let Malfoy worry about that. He was
too consumed in the way that their cocks felt rubbing along each other and the
helpless motions of his hips.

*

�� Just when
Draco had thought that Potter understood nothing about sex-talk of any kind, he
had produced that line.

�� Draco was
desperate to get his hands on Potter now, but he knew that he needed to hold
back at least long enough to get undressed. And it would be better if he could
maintain that cool mask he had in the first encounter, enough to give Potter
orders in the tone he liked. It would do no good if both of them were rushing into this with Gryffindor emotionality
and sloppy kisses and clumsy hands. They would get off before they could even
begin to feel good.

�� But it was difficult. Draco wished a spell existed
that would have them both stripped and slicked up and him buried in Potter�s
arse in seconds.

�� He settled
for kissing Potter nearly hard enough to choke him and then pulling back to
render him naked. Potter lay back in the chair, panting, legs spread wide, and
he spread them wider when Draco managed to pull the last of his confining
clothes away. He had no shame, or at least Draco could pretend he didn�t if he
ignored Potter�s horribly flushed face and looked only at those parted knees,
that jutting cock, and the hole that he could see revealed.

�� I do
think,� Draco said softly, �that you might lift up your legs, holding them behind
the knees, and spread them as wide as you can.�

�� Potter
stared at him, a tingling silence in the air between them, and for a moment
Draco wasn�t sure if he would do it. They weren�t in the same kind of situation
that they had been before, after all, and Potter had fought him there before
giving in to his direct orders.

�� But
although Potter shut his eyes and flushed so hotly he must have been on fire
inside, he did reach down and lift his legs as Draco had suggested. Draco
studied every detail of that pose: the whitening of his knuckles, the dents he
made in the skin behind his knees as he supported them, the pulled-taut muscles
in belly and legs, the way his cock bobbed softly with his uncontrollable
trembling, and the hole beneath that, visible and waiting.

�� Yes,�
Draco said at last, hardly conscious of his voice. �That was what I wanted.�

�� He dropped
to his knees and reached for his wand. Potter flushed some more, but he was
staring down at Draco now with a look of enchantment that Draco would have been
loath to disturb, so he didn�t make the sarcastic remarks that he could feel
running through his head. He lifted his wand and whispered the lubrication
charm instead.

�� Potter
arched his neck and whimpered. Draco could see the gleam around Potter�s hole.
It made him drive himself forwards, rutting into the chair-leg, before he
gained control again and drew a deep breath.

�� Slowly,�
he said, and didn�t know who he was talking to. He reached out and stroked the
oil down and around Potter�s arse, highlighting the area he would cover. Potter
tilted his head to the side and gave a small, gasping, choking cry that a
newborn animal couldn�t have bettered.

�� Have you
ever had someone do this?� Draco asked. Again his voice escaped him. He
wouldn�t have said the words to a lover ordinarily; he would have assumed that
they did have some sort of past experience, and one that he could better
without effort. The challenge was the point, not the knowledge. But with
Potter, it was different. �Have you ever had someone touch you like this before
he fucked you?�

�� Potter�s
eyes grew wide, and he choked on a bubble of panic for long moments. Draco
knelt there, not impatient, and not stopping his slow stroke, and not looking
away from Potter�s brilliant eyes. In a moment of absurdity, he realized that
Potter still had his glasses on.

�� No,�
Potter said at last, and might have been about to cry.

�� Draco
nodded, the knowledge flowing through him and leaving a great calm behind. He
didn�t know why. It was all he could do to recognize and name emotions at this
point, never mind know the reasons for them.

�� He dabbled
two fingertips in the lubrication until they were thoroughly soaked. Potter�s
legs had started to shake with the effort of maintaining the position, and
Draco wanted him to keep it for a while longer, so he could see the expressions
on his face.

�� He slid his
fingers inside.

�� Potter
gasped and blinked, jaw falling, glasses barely clinging to his nose. �Oh,� he
said. �That part isn�t supposed to feel so good.� He sounded vaguely accusing,
as if the fates were at fault for giving him a sensitive arse.

�� But it
does,� Draco said, and spread his fingers, and reached deeper. He was already
dabbing up liquid with a third finger so that he could follow the first two. �Does
this part feel good, too?� The third finger went in.

�� Potter
looked away, but the trembling cords in his neck and the flush that crept lower
every second told Draco he was still paying attention, no fear of that.

�� Yes,� he
said at last. It sounded as though someone had pulled the word through his
teeth against his will.

�� Draco
smiled in triumph. Now he would try something else, something that the coiling
heat in his belly and the watching, remembering part of his brain both demanded.
He withdrew his fingers. Potter snapped his head downwards at once, eyes wide
in protest and lips parted in what could have been the beginnings of a snarl.

�� Draco stood
up and leaned backwards, enough that he could aim his cock at Potter and leave
no doubt about what he intended. Potter�s lips closed in a firm line, and his
gaze was bright with lust and longing. Draco stroked himself with the three
slick fingers; he didn�t dare do more, when he would have come with a touch.

�� I want you
to beg for it,� he said.

�� Potter�s
eyes snapped up to him, and he sat so still for a moment Draco thought this
might be the condition that would break their bargain.

�� But he
didn�t move and didn�t remove his gaze from Potter. He had made the promise to
himself that he would never give Potter what he needed again unless Potter
showed some signs of actually wanting it.
Draco was never going to be anyone�s second best choice, or the best of a bad
lot, or mere stress relief for someone who meant more to him than that.

�� If that was
a sign of his own insecurities that should have been cured by now, so be it.

�� Now he
turned to the side, displaying his cock and noting the way that Potter�s eyes
fastened onto it. Potter was the one who had to make the decision. That ought
to make up for any worries he had about the power Draco wielded over him.

*

�� Harry
couldn�t swallow. His throat was too dry. He couldn�t move his eyes. They were
frozen. He couldn�t even unhook his fingers from his legs, stand up, and tell
Malfoy where to shove his pretentious demand. The orders locked his muscles
into place.

�� He wanted�

�� It was
just.

�� He had
always been chained before when he did something that a lover ordered him to.
He had always fought before he yielded. This time, neither was true, and that
came roaring back to him as he sat there and stared at Malfoy and listened to
what he�d demanded.

�� The chains
were a necessity, but also a guarantee. He could put the encounter out of his
mind later and think that he was himself again, instead of ashamed about it,
because he hadn�t had any choice. To
get out of the chains, he had to do as he was told. And that was easy to
rationalize in one part of his mind even as, in another, he knew that he was in
the chains because he had wanted to be put there. He wasn�t a prisoner.

�� Now Malfoy
was asking him to say that the only chains he was subjected to were will and
desire, and he would have to choose.

�� Harry
lifted his shaking legs higher and met Malfoy�s eyes. He had thought the
gesture would convey how much he wanted this fuck, but all it did was make
Malfoy narrow his eyes and tilt his head as though he were considering walking
out of the room. That he stood there with his hand on his cock still and his
breath rushing in and out of him reassured Harry not at all. He knew the
strength of Malfoy�s will.

�� Say it,�
Malfoy said, but only his lips shaped the words, so Harry didn�t actually get
to hear them.

�� Harry
shuddered. The fingers digging into the backs of his knees felt like hooks, or
claws. He was propped on fishhooks, and he had to make his impossible
decision�the first decision he had ever made about this that wasn�t at least
nominally guided by someone else�while sitting on them.

�� This is the last barrier. This is the kind
of barrier that keeps you from keeping your promises, that holds you back from
having the kind of life you want. You can walk out of here and go back to being
normal and ashamed, but Malfoy isn�t going to help you do it, and you know why.

�� Harry bit
his lip so hard that he thought a small trickle of blood had started down his
chin, and then took a deep breath and nodded. �I want it,� he said. So little
breath was behind his words that he knew Malfoy could claim not to have heard
them, and he lifted his eyes and his voice�impossible to say which of those was
more difficult�at the same time. �I want it. Please, please fuck me. Come on,
Malfoy. I only want you.�

�� The words
fell out of him like lead, but the space left within him was suddenly light and
airy and full of the sun. Harry had thought he would feel hollow and empty.
Instead, there was courage there. The
barrier was passed.

�� Harry
spread his legs wider, and repeated the words.

*

�� Draco had
been trembling on the fine edge of his control ever since Potter started to
whisper, but now it broke, and now he rushed forwards, pinned Potter�s legs
awkwardly back against the arms of the chair, and slid into him.

�� Potter
released a great barking grunt and ground his fingers down into the middle of
Draco�s back, his face agonized. Draco slid further and deeper, not taking the
time to apologize. The pleasure would be its own apology. He bit the top of
Potter�s ear and murmured meaningless words to him. Well, he thought they were
meaningless, but since he couldn�t take the time to listen to them, they might
not be.

�� Come on,� one of them said, and Draco didn�t
know which one, but he thought the instruction good. He began to rock forwards,
making the chair wobble and tip on its legs, and then to stroke more smoothly
in and out of Potter.

�� The fingers
on his back clenched down and then began to fall away. Draco lifted his head
and managed to catch a single glimpse of Potter flopping back in the chair,
arms off to the sides as though chained there, his eyes fluttering weakly, his
legs dangling, only his hips jerking down to meet the thrusts.

�� Draco
gritted his teeth and focused his gaze on Potter�s flushed throat instead. He
would come if he looked at the whole picture too long.

�� Potter had
begged him. Draco had never really thought he would. He could see Potter
standing up and walking out of the room, breaking the trembling intensity
between them, more easily than he could think of Potter surrendering and
begging for him, for his cock, for Draco to enter him and take him and�

�� That got
him to the verge of coming again, not that the heat surrounding him wasn�t
playing a part. Draco took a careful breath and began to rotate his hips,
because Potter was too quiet and he wanted to hear him.

�� Potter�s
eyelids fluttered and he looked up in what seemed to be confusion, eyes finding
Draco�s while his brow furrowed. �What�what are you doing?� he breathed. �What
you were doing was great, but this��

�� Draco must
have found his prostate. Potter�s head went back to flopping against the back
of the chair, and his breath gave up. Then he was rutting even more
enthusiastically against Draco, his cock flapping, his hands twisting back and
forth against those invisible chains, his voice a mindless babble.

�� Draco took
some delight in keeping his hands off Potter entirely this time, using only
hips and cock to give him pleasure. He told himself that he would have time to
kiss and stroke that red skin later. For now, he focused on the way that
Potter�s hips bumped into his own, and the strain in his stomach muscles, and
the uncoordinated jerks of his legs, trying all the time to get closer to Draco
and closer to the sensations he was receiving from him.

�� Potter
arched his neck back and froze at the top of the arch. Draco knew what was
coming and abruptly sped up and shortened his thrusts, circling his hips hard
enough to hurt himself. Someone else could have walked into the room at that
moment, Severus could have come back into the portrait frame and spoken, and
still Draco wouldn�t have been able to look away from Potter.

*

�� Harry ached with the pleasure. He had his
teeth clenched, he�d bitten his tongue, and his eyes allowed in blazing light
and complete darkness only, both of which hurt. He could feel his toenails digging
into the bottom of his feet.

�� When he
came, it hurt.

�� But
considering that he felt better right now than he had in months, years, generations, he didn�t mind a little
pain.

�� His head
throbbed, his world spun, and he gasped and choked his way back to
consciousness slowly, since it seemed far off. When he could breathe and see
again, he lifted his head and realized that Malfoy still hadn�t come. Harry
blinked and frowned. Was I really that
awful, that he couldn�t even orgasm when he was inside me?

�� Any
insecurities blew away like scraps of paper when he realized that Malfoy was
buried inside him, smirking. He waited until he seemed sure that he had Harry�s
attention and then whispered, �I wanted you as a witness to this.�

�� He began to
rock again.

�� Harry
shuddered. His nerves shot sparks of blue-white fire along the backs of his
eyelids and through his spine and down his arse, and once again the pain began
to mount. But he couldn�t have looked away from Malfoy or asked him to stop. He
panted, and only realized a few moments later that he was panting in time to
Malfoy�s thrusts.

�� Malfoy
chuckled in the back of his throat and rotated his hips again. Harry hissed as
Malfoy bumped his prostate, but there was no way that he could get it up again
when he�d just come. He shook his head.

�� Only want
to make you feel good,� Malfoy told him, strands of hair dangling in his eyes,
eyes themselves wide and blazing and blown, and then he tensed abruptly,
clenched his hands in front of his chest, and began to move only from the waist
down.

�� Harry had
never before cared about making his lovers come. They always had, and he had, and that tended to be the only
thing that mattered. But he watched hungrily, greedily, now, for the way that
Malfoy twitched and shuddered and dug his nails into his palms. He would have
leaned forwards and lapped at the small trickles of blood he could see from
Malfoy�s nails, but the angle wasn�t right for it.

�� I knew we shouldn�t have had sex in a chair.

�� Malfoy
seemed to lose the last of his orgasm and the last of his breath at the same
time. He wavered, caught himself on the back of the chair with his hands, and
then pitched forwards. Harry caught him against his chest and held him there,
stroking his hair back so that he could see Malfoy�s bright eyes once more.

�� They
weren�t bright now. They were shut, and Malfoy�s eyelashes splayed against his
cheek in a way that made Harry have
to touch. He ran his finger delicately over one, and Malfoy sighed and stirred.

�� Did that
live up to your expectations?� he asked hoarsely.

�� Harry
waited until he had opened his eyes
and could look into Harry�s face before he responded. �More than any sex I�ve
ever had,� Harry said. �And there were no chains, and it was�it was powerful.�

�� That�s a
good word,� Malfoy said. His smug voice dripped out of his lips as thick as
cream. He reached up and ran a languid hand down Harry�s chest to his nipples,
which he pinched. Harry hissed and thrashed, and a trickle of liquid ran out of
his arse. Malfoy glanced down with an even more smug smile, as if he had
forgotten himself that he was buried inside Harry until Harry reminded him. �A
very good word,� he said. �Imagine what you�ll feel when I do tie you up with
chains, which I know you�ll want at some point.�

�� Harry
arched up, rutting against Malfoy�s stomach. It was an entirely involuntary
movement, and useless, since he knew he wouldn�t be able to get an erection
again no matter how much he wanted one, but that was Malfoy�s effect on him. He
dropped back, limp and panting and exhausted, and murmured, �You�re a bastard.�

�� Yes, I
know,� Malfoy said, and forcefully kissed him, hard enough that Harry thought
the inside of his mouth was at least bruised. �I think, by the way, that you
should call me Draco. And think of me that way, as well. You should be on a
first-name basis with someone whom you begged to fuck you.�

�� Harry
flushed. �You�ll never let me forget that,� he said, starting to untangle the
mound of limbs that they represented.

�� Hmmm.�
Malfoy licked at his nipple again. �No, I won�t. And I won�t let you forget
what�s happened the next time you start making noises about being �normal� and �ashamed�
of this, either.� He began to drag himself off Harry, but he did it without
letting his gaze waver, so that Harry couldn�t look away from those challenging
eyes.

�� Harry
coughed. �I�m not going to change my mind about my sexuality all at once, you
know.�

�� Well,
you�ve made a start by having sex in a chair,� Malfoy said, and turned away,
running his fingers through his hair. That simple gesture made Harry�s mouth dry, and he shook his head. Why do I have it so bad for him? Malfoy�s
body was lithe and handsome, but he wasn�t the most gorgeous lover Harry had
ever had, and he was far from the most compassionate and sympathetic, which
Harry had once thought was a requirement for him.

�� Then Malfoy
glanced back at him with a devastating smile, and Harry�s tongue stuck to the
roof of his mouth so he had to nod in response, and he knew.

�� Malfoy was
the one who had the most effect on him. That wasn�t an answer for the deeper
questions of why and how, but it could explain why one
gesture from him made Harry want to kneel.

*

�� Draco watched
Potter covertly from the corner of his eye as he cleaned himself up and dressed
again. He remembered how different the git had seemed after the first time they
fucked, the way he had smiled and laughed when he was striding out of the room.
He was curious whether such a great change would come about this time.

�� There were
signs of it, he decided. A fugitive smile flickered around the corner of
Potter�s mouth�perhaps Draco should call him Harry, given his own dictate�and he
looked at his hands and feet as if the sex had renewed them. And he stared
often at Draco, then away again, perhaps trying to reconcile him with a future
where he didn�t storm out of the room
and off on his own the instant he was done.

�� Draco was
looking forwards to the next time he fucked Harry in a bed. If Harry tried to
roll away from him and pretend nothing had happened, Draco knew some painful
places to bite.

�� Harry
turned around and froze when he realized that Draco was still naked. Draco bit
his lip to keep from laughing and stared innocently back, then sat down in the
chair he usually took. It was soft and made of a material that wouldn�t stain
from semen or sweat, so Draco had no hesitation. �We should talk about the
riddle,� he said. �Granger would surely complain that we�ve already wasted
enough time.�

�� But you��
Harry said, and then sat down and looked away in discomfort.

�� Draco
wondered idly if he had misdiagnosed part of Harry�s response to him. Perhaps
Harry was uncomfortable around the idea of sex in general as well as the
particular kind he desired. �Yes?� he asked, with a raised eyebrow.

�� You�re
still naked,� Harry whispered, his cheeks flushing.

�� Draco was
about to applaud him for noticing the obvious when he continued, eyes now on
the floor, �And you should put some clothes on, because when you�re like that,
I can�t think about the riddle. The only thing I can think about is you.�

�� Draco let a
delicate moment pass before he began to think again. Harry was far more adept at a certain version of
romanticism than Draco had thought he would be.

�� I will put
on some clothes, then,� Draco said, stretching once and watching the way that
Harry stared at him in frank appraisal before he turned his head aside. �Only
for you.�

�� Thank
you,� Harry said, voice so low that it was difficult for Draco to hear him.
Draco nodded magnanimously and reached down for the robes and other clothing he
had discarded.

*

�� Harry
didn�t know whether he wanted to cast curses or wander around the room with a
huge and silly grin on his face. It made no sense, but then, it made no sense
that Malfoy had fucked him and made him like it without chains, either.

�� Should that be so surprising? We did make
promises to each other that suggest it could happen.

�� Harry
shrugged and kept his eyes determinedly fixed on his hands as Malfoy dressed.
Perhaps it shouldn�t be surprising, but it still was. He didn�t know what to do
next, especially because he hadn�t had an experience like that before. They
were either completely dedicated to stress relief or they were ordinary sex
without even a mention of the bonds, like a few of the fucks he�d had with
Bradley.

�� It was
strange to think that he wouldn�t see Bradley again. Harry didn�t think Malfoy
would want to share.

�� Here,
then.� Malfoy had the �glass� globe that Harry had taken from the fireplace in
the Slytherin common room balanced in his hands. He lifted, bounced it
thoughtfully on his palms for a moment, and then dropped it.

�� Harry
winced, but the globe didn�t actually shatter when it met the floor. Of course
not, Harry thought, and relaxed a little. The material would never have
survived the heat of the fire or the weight of the stones if it was simply
glass. �It looks like it�ll take something else to make it open,� he remarked, and
knelt down.

�� Malfoy
laughed, a high, cheerful sound that made Harry jerk. He could imagine Ron
laughing like that, or Hermione. Not Malfoy. �I know that. We�ll probably both
have to touch it at the same time to make it open, like the others. I wanted to
see your face when I dropped it, and this way, I got to.� He smiled with a
touch of viciousness and reached out to stroke the globe.

�� Harry shook
his head. Perhaps he shouldn�t have expected Malfoy to change that much in such
a short period of time, but the words had still disconcerted him.

�� But he put
his hands to the globe anyway, because to hold something like this against Malfoy would have a waste
of time. Harry knew that he would have many, many more insults to revenge in
time against Malfoy, and it was just as well for him to get used to the git�s
manners, or lack of manners, quickly.

�� The globe
came unhinged along the top like a few Muggle Easter eggs Harry had seen, and
then they were lifting out the entwined pieces of parchment. Malfoy undid the
first and sneered slightly. �Hogwarts
lake is the keyword to unlock the wards,� he murmured. �Of course.�

�� Harry
didn�t see what the �of course� had to do with it, but he was holding the
riddle, and he had better things to do than ask Malfoy what one sneer or
another meant.

�� Fire above and fire below,

�� Rising while rooted,

�� Bright in eternity,

�� Dark in memory.

�� Harry
blinked and turned the parchment over. That seemed to be all there was. He
supposed it wasn�t that much shorter
than the first riddle had been, but he had still expected something more
substantial. He extended the paper to Malfoy, frowning. It was possible Snape
had used some enchantment that would reveal hidden words or invisible clues.

�� Malfoy cast
a few spells, but to no avail. �It seems this is our only clue,� he murmured.
�One would expect a location like the rest, within Hogwarts grounds and not
visited by many in the years since the school was closed. But �rising while
rooted� and the references to fire above and below make me wonder if this is
within the Forbidden
Forest again.�

�� Why?�
Harry asked. He�d never heard of fires or references to magical creatures that
breathed fire in the Forbidden
Forest, and he was sure
he would have, from Hagrid if nothing else. Hagrid would have been thrilled
beyond words if a dragon had lived near enough to them to be seen.

�� Severus
used an analogy with those of us in Potions who had trouble seeing the magical
properties of certain trees,� Malfoy said, staring at him. �A tree combines all
four elements. �It rises into the sky, it is rooted in the earth, it eats the fire
of the sun, and it drinks from rain.� Extend that a bit further, and one can
say that a tree is close to the fire of the earth since magma lies in the
earth. You never heard of that analogy? You don�t remember it?�

�� Harry gave
a harsh laugh. �If you�re going to start complaining about the amount of
attention I paid in Potions, we�ll be here all day.�

�� Malfoy
studied him closely for a few moments, then smiled. Harry didn�t think it was
the smirk or sneer he was expecting, though it had an edge to it. �You�re
right. I suspect the visions I have had about you will prove true.�

�� What
visions?� Harry said, with a frown. Malfoy gave a small shrug and turned back
to study the paper again. Harry leaned forwards and clutched his wrist, which
at least had the merit of making him pay attention. �What bloody visions?�
Harry insisted.

�� Malfoy
sighed. �I�ve had flashes of you kneeling on the floor of my lab, your arms
bound behind you and your face flushed with attention,� he said. �I had them
even before I knew for certain that you liked to be bound.� He gave another
smile, this time the kind that made Harry�s flesh shudder and feel as if it
would melt from his bones. �I see they were prophetic in another way as well.
Clearly, you need instruction in Potions.�

�� Harry
coughed uncomfortably and turned his head away. �It isn�t�Malfoy, you wanker,
this isn�t the time or place to talk about that.�

�� All times
and places around us are fine to talk about that,� Malfoy said. �Why not? We do
not stop being ourselves because we are considering a riddle at the moment. We
do not stop feeling our needs and our desires because we may need to put off
slaking them.� He reached out in turn, but his touch on Harry�s wrist was too
light, making Harry want to press his hand more firmly against Malfoy�s than
Malfoy allowed at the moment. �I want you to accept that,� Malfoy added, and it
sounded like an order.

�� Harry breathed
deeply. He didn�t want to get into an argument about this right now, and he
wasn�t going to. For fuck�s sake, they�d just slept together. It wasn�t as
though he owed Malfoy anything.

�� Later,� he
said, and plucked the riddle from Malfoy�s slack hand. �So what would the last
two lines mean, then?�

�� Obviously,
a place in the Forbidden
Forest where something
happened.� From the lightness and steadiness of Malfoy�s tone, Harry�s
disagreement hadn�t affected him. Harry highly doubted that, but he
deliberately didn�t look up in time to catch the expression on Malfoy�s face.
�We would have to remember that it couldn�t be a moment specific to us.
Dumbledore and Severus couldn�t know we would be the ones to track these
riddles down.�

�� Harry
grunted acknowledgment and looked up. �Assuming you�re right and something
happened in the Forbidden
Forest that we need to
investigate, what are the best candidates for it?�

�� Malfoy
waited long, lingering moments before he answered, as though to prove that he
could look at Harry as well as anyone else could. �I think we should put
Granger on that. She�ll go through records with a speed neither of us can
match, and she�ll need something to do as she sits by Weasley�s bedside.�

�� Harry
couldn�t stop his smile, though he knew it was reluctant. Well, that was all
Malfoy deserved right now, anyway. �She�ll like that, and it�ll help take her
mind off Ron. Thanks, Malfoy.�

�� I didn�t
do it for her sake,� Malfoy said. �I did it for yours. You seem to have a need
for others to feel consideration for your friends, as if they were delicate
striplings, though I have to admit that I don�t know why.�

�� Harry
ground his teeth and held back his slowly rising irritation. He had been honest
with Malfoy, and this was what it got him. But he had to think that what they
had�he thought he could call it bondage more honestly than a bond�was stronger
than a petty argument. Someday it would be, anyway. �It�s not their delicacy.
It�s that I�m just reconciling with them right now, and it wouldn�t take much
to tear us apart.�

�� You
weren�t as firm in your interview with them as I imagined you would be.� Malfoy
had lazy eyes, deceptive eyes. Crocodile�s eyes. �You didn�t demand everything
I�d thought you�d demand. Why is that?�

�� Because
you�re you, and not me?� Harry asked in exasperation. He didn�t know what to
say about this. Malfoy wanted to discuss this subject now�why, exactly? And why
was it his concern? Harry�s efforts to secure his friendship with Ron and
Hermione could proceed without oversight from Malfoy. �Because we think it�s
reasonable to ask for different things?� he added a moment later, in a slightly
softer voice, when Malfoy simply continued to gaze at him. �Seriously, Malfoy.
It�s not that complicated.�

�� It is,�
said Malfoy. �When what they do affects you, and that affects me.�

�� Harry
sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. �I promise that I wouldn�t refuse to
have sex with you because of something Ron and Hermione said to me. So that�s
settled, isn�t it?� He picked up the riddle again.

�� Malfoy
reached out and hooked his hand beneath Harry�s chin, turning his face back and
forth as if he were seeking the answers to hidden questions in it. Harry froze
and glared at him. It was hard to maintain that glare against Malfoy�s patient,
searching look, and the questioning gleam in his eyes.

�� You have
no idea what I�m really like,� Malfoy whispered. �You have no idea what I want
from you. It�s more than sex. It�s more than not walking away at the end of a
fuck, though that is nice compared to
what happened the first time. I wish to know you, and what affects you, and for
you to do the same thing with me.�

�� Harry bit
his lip, feeling himself flush. He had known�well, maybe he�d known�that things
like this would happen if they had an actual relationship. But he hadn�t counted on it. Or he had thought Malfoy
would wait a while before engaging in it. Malfoy didn�t seem soft or Gryffindor
enough for that.

�� I want to
ask for the harder things later,� Harry said, telling the truth. �It was the
first meeting. I thought I�d want to be demanding, but seeing their eyes and
the way they reacted to me�that was enough for that moment.�

�� Malfoy
considered him in silence, as if evaluating the answer. Then he nodded and let
Harry go. �I�ll write down a list of suggestions that Granger might want to
look into,� he said. �Though I�m sure that she�ll discover more than enough on
her own.�

�� Harry
nodded back, more relieved than he could say that Malfoy had accepted his
explanation and dropped the interrogation mode he�d been using for a few
minutes. Then he paused and licked his lips. He felt as if he owed Malfoy something for dropping it,
though Malfoy would probably�well, might�say he didn�t.

�� He leaned
in and kissed Malfoy briefly on the mouth. Malfoy muffled an exclamation
against his lips, then reached up and caught his hair, holding him in place as
he thrust his tongue determinedly past Harry�s lips. Harry accepted it and
snogged him gently, pulling back when Malfoy tried to insist on more.

�� Thank you,
Draco,� Harry said.

�� Malfoy�Draco
who was to be�flushed and slowly inclined his head, not looking away from
Harry�s eyes. Harry shuddered, but not in revulsion. That clinging gaze felt
more intimate, in some ways, than Draco�s hands on his body.

*

�� Granger
seized the list of suggestions from Draco�s hand with a crow of glee, which
Draco had been sure she would, and then scanned it from top to bottom with a
quick flick of her eyes. Although she looked up at him immediately after, Draco
was sure she had memorized them already. �What am I looking for?�

�� Events
that occurred in the Forbidden
Forest since Dumbledore
was Headmaster,� Draco told her, glancing once at Weasley, asleep in the
hospital bed. He looked disgustingly healthy. He ought to be up tomorrow, Draco
thought. There was no need for as much worry as Granger was showing.
�Preferably, events that also occurred since Professor Snape came to teach
here. Something dark that would have impacted both of them.�

�� Granger nodded
seriously, considered the list again, and started to write notes down on the
margins of the paper. Draco was glad to make his escape. He wanted to find
Harry again and carry on a more interesting discussion.

�� Of course,
since that was what he wanted, he was prevented from carrying it out. He met Covington on the stairs
coming down from her office, and she smiled and held out an arm as though they
were the best of friends and it was trivial for her to bar his passage.
�Potions master Malfoy. I must speak with you.�

�� I have
nothing to say about Potter,� Draco murmured peacefully. �Or the philosophical
reasons that Potter left the Ministry. You are better served by taking those up
with him, as I already suggested.�

�� I know
that.� Covington
had hawk�s eyes suddenly. �I wish to speak to you about a matter of some import
to the both of us.�

�� Draco
waited. He did nothing so casual as lean against the wall, and nothing so
defensive as to fold his arms. Why should he give an enemy anything definable
about his state of mind? Draco had never been a connoisseur of handing over
weapons that someone could use to stab him, though Harry was.

�� That is something else we will have to work
on. Draco had no intention of watching Harry hurt himself again and again.
He might not be able to order him to
stop it�Draco didn�t yet know how much control he had outside the bedroom, if
any�but he would offer sarcasm, suggestions, gentle advice, and anything else
that might stand a chance of making an impression.

�� Do you
know,� Covington
asked the air, �how fragile the reputations of Potions masters may be? Constant
discovery and research is necessary to maintain them. I wonder what would
happen if it turned out that some of the discoveries made by a Potions master
in the last few years were fraudulent, claiming the credit for others� work. I
wonder what the people who pay those discoveries attention and send the Potions
master letters of adulation, praise, or argument would do.�

�� Draco felt
the breath catch in his throat for a moment. This was a tactic that he hadn�t
thought Covington
would take, partially because he didn�t know that the Ministry bothered to keep
up on the activities of Potions masters. Their incompetency at everything else was
so great, why would they?

�� Then he
smiled and said, �It would be a disaster for him. Even if he managed to clear
his name, there would always be lingering doubts about his priority for the
next discoveries. He would become involved in petty disputes when he should be
moving forwards, making his name known in other areas and new fields. And those
who chose to ally with him would receive withering scorn. Posterity might not
know or remember him. Names of potions or histories of brewing with his name in
them might be changed.�

�� I am glad
to understand the consequences,� Covington
said, and smiled back at him. �It�s a subject that I�ve been interested in, but
I never had enough time to study the specifics.�

�� I find
that I make time for subjects I am truly interested in,� Draco said. �One might
never know, otherwise, the basic concepts or whether someone had got there
first and claimed credit for what one wanted to study.�

�� Covington�s eyes went
slightly wary. She didn�t know where he was leading the analogy, and it showed.
�Of course,� she said. �One would not want someone else to snatch the prize one
dreamed of winning.�

�� I study
people as well as books,� Draco said conversationally. �I have several such
studies in progress right now.�

�� Do you?� Covington gave him a pleasant
smile. �I hope you will realize that some people�s characters are a reflection
of what most interests them and what institutions they serve, rather than of
their worth as individuals.�

�� Such
constrains are well-implanted in my mind,� Draco reassured her. �This study is
very old for me, although the subjects of the study aren�t.�

�� Covington nodded. �Well,
then, I can safely leave you to it. I trust that you�ll let one subject of your
study know if another one is about to come into conflict with him.�

�� Draco
shrugged with one shoulder. �I might do that if I thought it necessary. Or I
might let it happen. I must do some experiments in all the fields of study I
undertake, after all. It�s essential for my nature as a Potions master.
Watching explosions and collisions teaches me more about my subject than all
the descriptions in a textbook ever could.�

�� I wish you
luck,� Covington
murmured, and then turned and went up the stairs again with so much grace and
conviction that Draco could have told himself he�d imagined the momentary flash
of fear in her eyes.

�� But he knew
he hadn�t.

*

�� Harry
looked up when he heard the door open. He�d agreed to remain here while Draco
took the list of suggestions up to Hermione because�well, because he wanted to
avoid seeing Hermione and Ron with the flush of sex still on his cheeks. Draco
had agreed with nothing more than a curious glance, and if he guessed what the
motive for the action was, he didn�t seem inclined to deprecate it.

�� Harry had
entertained himself by studying the alterations to Snape�s rooms and comparing
them with his memories of the bastard the man had been. He never would have
allowed this if he was still alive. Harry wondered if he should think of this
as latter-day revenge or not, and if it was psychologically unhealthy to do so.
That led him further away into other questions, and he hadn�t noticed time
passing.

�� Now, when
Draco gave him a direct look and Harry glanced down at his watch, he realized
it was late evening. He rose to his feet with a cough. �I should be getting
back to my rooms in Hogsmeade,� he said.

�� Yes, you
should,� Draco said, in a light, deceptively pleasant tone.

�� Harry
stiffened. He hadn�t been �with� Draco for long, and already he recognized one
of his favorite tactics: saying nothing on the surface, implying everything
beneath, and irritating someone so badly that they had to ask what he was talking about.

�� What do
you mean?� Harry snapped. �Say what you mean.�

�� I thought
I had.� Draco stepped past him and started to arrange a pile of papers Harry
had glanced at earlier but thought nothing of. They were covered with equations
and directions, and that probably meant they were about potions. Harry and
potions had an agreement: he stayed on the other side of the room, and they
didn�t lunge viciously out of their vials at him. �You should return to your
rooms. The Three Broomsticks will serve dinner soon, and you look as if you
could use some more to eat.�

�� Harry let
one hand fall defensively to rest on his ribs before he dropped it and flushed
again. He told himself that he had so grown
up past the near-starvation the Dursleys tried to inflict on him, and it didn�t
matter what Draco thought or said, that childhood mistreatment didn�t show now.
�Well, I�ll see you tomorrow, then,� he said, and started to edge past Draco.

�� Draco
turned around and gave him a faint smile, an enigmatic one, as he leaned
against the table where the papers were now neatly piled and cocked his head.

�� Harry
ground his teeth. He wouldn�t be tricked into responding. He would walk out the
door, up the path to Hogsmeade, into the Three Broomsticks, and eat his dinner
and go to bed on time like a normal person.

�� Normal. That word tolled in the back of
his mind, and Harry remembered the conclusion he had come to this morning: that
he wasn�t normal and would just have to get used to living with that. Draco�s
voice snapped in his head at the same time, telling him to stop using that
word.

�� In another
life, that reminder would have been another reason for him to walk out. He
didn�t need to do everything Draco said just because that was what he did when
they had sex.

�� But he
didn�t want to resist what could possibly be good advice just because of his
stubbornness, either. And Draco�s expression was driving him mad with
curiosity. He had to learn what Draco
thought he should do.

�� He turned
around with a huff and folded his arms. �Well? What do you think I should do
instead of going back to Hogsmeade?�

�� Did I say
that you should do anything?� But Draco stepped forwards with an alacrity that
told Harry he had indeed been waiting for just this. He wrapped his fingers
around Harry�s wrist and turned his hand back and forth as if admiring the
different patterns of marks his fingertips could leave. �I think it would be
more comfortable for both of us if you stayed in my bed tonight.�

�� Your bed
probably isn�t big enough,� Harry retorted, seizing the first excuse that came
to mind.

�� The smile
Draco gave him was deep, and dark, and lovely. �You haven�t seen it yet. An
unanticipated benefit of having fucked in the chair.�

�� Harry felt
himself flush again. It was one thing for him to think words like �fucked,� but Draco appeared to say them
effortlessly. Harry didn�t know whether to feel silly and embarrassed or
excited that he could do so. Probably neither response was appropriate.

�� He tried
for a coolness that matched Draco�s tone. �I need some time and space from my
friends. Maybe the same thing applies to you.�

�� Draco
leaned closer, and Harry swayed towards him without even thinking about it. �I
would ordinarily let myself be persuaded by that,� Draco murmured, �except that
I know you have a past pattern of retreats from your lovers. I don�t want to
give you the chance to begin that again. Stay with me tonight. You can go back
to Hogsmeade tomorrow night, assuming we are unfortunate enough not to solve
the riddle tomorrow.�

�� Harry
exhaled. He wanted to say he wouldn�t retreat this time, but Draco had no
reason to believe him. He could say that he wanted to be alone after the
tumultuous events of the day, but that wasn�t really true. He wanted to think,
but if he was by himself, he would brood instead. Events of the past few years
had taught him brooding was no substitute for thinking.

�� Draco ran
the fingers of his free hand lightly down Harry�s arm, from elbow to wrist.

�� Harry
shivered. He did want to get used to this, he told himself. And he would have to get used to this if Malfoy
insisted on being so free with all the touching.

�� All
right,� he muttered. �But it doesn�t mean that I�m going to spend each night
pressed against your body.�

�� I wouldn�t
expect you to,� Draco said, while his eyes laughed from deep down. He reached
out and drew Harry against him, holding his wrists with a grip that Harry
thought would have tightened immeasurably if he had tried to break away, but,
just at the moment, felt rather pleasant. �I would expect that you�ll be bound
to the headboard some of the time, and I may choose to press against you or
not, as I like.�

�� Harry
wrenched away instinctively. Or rather, he got one wrist free, and then Draco
seized the other one exactly as Harry had thought he would, his frown light and
scolding. �I wouldn�t do such a thing, Harry, if you want to go on feeling my
touch,� Draco murmured. �I can understand your motives for an immediate
rejection, but I won�t take it well.�

�� Harry took
a deep breath. It wasn�t�he didn�t know how he could explain it. He wanted to
be bound when he was sleeping�not an idea that he�d considered before, but one
that sent sparks dancing along his nerves. But how he could stand to have
someone else do that to him? How could he stand to be with someone who would
look at him in the daylight and know that
it was happening?

�� But it was
find a way to do that, or give up being with Draco completely. Draco could
tolerate anything but his cowardice and the desire to be normal.

�� All
right,� he said. �I�ll come with you for tonight, and we can see later if we�ll
have to do anything else.�

�� Draco drew
a hand over Harry�s throat, along his collarbone and up, with his eyes so dark
that it was hard to read them. When he spoke, his voice was thick and languid.
�I am pleased.�

�� Harry
decided he might as well flush, since there was no one else in the room to see
it, and followed Draco into the bedroom without even a prompting tug on his
wrist.

�� He did look to make sure that the portrait
frame was still covered up before he followed Draco, though. There was a limit
to the show that he wanted to put on for others besides Draco.

*

�� Draco swam
out of sleep with the vague conviction that something was wrong. Only when he
turned over did he realize that the wrongness was a change from what he had
done and how he had slept since he came to Hogwarts. And in this case, it was a
very great rightness instead, although still a change.

�� Harry
slept, head bowed on the pillow as though he was surrendering to some invisible
enemy. He hadn�t rolled far away from Draco; he hadn�t tried to stand up during
the night and leave the bed, unless he had stepped out briefly for a trip to
the loo. Draco smiled and ran his fingers along the part of Harry�s neck where
his hair ended.

�� He felt the
small shock jolt through Harry�s body as he came awake. For a moment, Harry
too-obviously tried to remember where he was, who he was with, and why, and
then he blew out his breath. Leaning to look over the side of his face, Draco
could see that he had his eyes shut.

�� Do you do
this often?� Draco asked idly, continuing to play with Harry�s hair. �Wake up
in strange beds?� That would be another thing changing soon, if it was the
case, but he didn�t think it was, given how uptight Harry had been in the past
about his particular needs.

�� No,� Harry
said. �You wanker.�

�� Draco
grinned. �But you didn�t know where you were for a fraction of a second,� he
said. �I heard.�

�� You would be the one to notice something
like that,� Harry said tiredly. He rolled over and held out his hands. �Will
you untie these, please?�

�� Draco took
a moment to admire his handiwork, instead. Harry�s hands were tied together
with a series of black, knotted cords, so thickly wound that in some place they
completely hid the skin beneath. The appearance was deceptive, however; rather
than actual cords, Draco had enchanted an old pair of gloves to wear the cords
and act as embracing, limiting bonds on Harry�s movements. He didn�t want to
cut off blood to Harry�s hands during the night, because he would have to deal
with the complaining about that in the morning.

�� He glanced
up. Harry glared back at him, though of course he was flushed, and of course he
looked away when Draco held the stare.

�� Did you
like that?� Draco asked softly.

�� I�don�t
know,� Harry said, which was a better response than the blustering one about
normality that Draco had feared. Harry stared at the ceiling, brow furrowed,
and then shook his head. �I don�t know if it�s something that I would want to
happen every night,� Harry said. �As routine. But it�s the first time that I�ve
ever used bonds like that when I wasn�t already killingly angry. Maybe I could
become used to it over time.� He turned and extended his hands to Draco more
commandingly this time.

�� Draco undid
the gloves and then massaged Harry�s fingers for a while, not letting him pull
his hands back until he was sure there was no damage. When Harry began to flush
and fidget, Draco summoned a house-elf to give them breakfast.

�� What do
you like in the mornings?� he asked Harry. Harry sat on the edge of the bed
with his hands tugging at his hair. Draco bit his tongue against the temptation
to tell him that he would neither look better nor be smarter if he pulled all
his hair out.

�� Like?�
Harry glanced up. �Oh. For breakfast. Toast is fine. And eggs.�

�� Draco
nodded and gave his own somewhat more substantial order to the house-elf, then
turned around and sat with his legs folded beneath him on the bed while he
watched Harry. Harry had insisted on wearing a shirt and trousers to bed last
night, but for all that, he was still lovely, with his rippling muscles and
wild, wary movements. �Something on your mind?� he asked. He didn�t know if
Harry would be able to voice his concerns even if he had them, but Draco
thought it only right to ask.

�� I�m
thinking about that riddle,� Harry muttered. �I have to assume that Hermione
didn�t find anything new during the night, or she probably would have burst in
on us, waving the parchment and chattering.�

�� With a
sigh, Draco resigned himself to discussing how to free Hogwarts from those
protective wards. It was, in a way, what they were here for. �Yes, I think
you�re right. It may not be the Forbidden
Forest. There are other
trees on the ground.� He paused and cocked his head. �Didn�t something happen
during our third year near the Whomping Willow?�

�� Harry
appeared to levitate into the air as he turned, so that he ended up facing
Draco without having moved his legs. �Yes!�
he breathed. �I can�t believe that I would have been so stupid as to miss
that.�

�� Well?�
Draco gave him a patient look.

�� The
Whomping Willow hides an entrance to the Shrieking Shack,� Harry explained, his
hands in constant motion, one still combing through his hair, one waving
randomly through the air as he explained. The elf reappeared with their tray of
breakfast, and Draco accepted it and dismissed the elf while he kept a keen eye
on Harry. �We cornered Wormtail there during our third year and forced him to
admit that he�d betrayed my parents��

�� We?� Draco
interrupted. He handed Harry a plate of toast and eggs, which he accepted but
only balanced on his knees instead of eating.

�� Ron and
Hermione and Sirius and Remus and I,� Harry said in distraction. �Everyone
thought that Sirius had betrayed my parents, but they changed Secret-Keepers at
the last minute, and it was Wormtail. Peter Pettigrew,� he explained, because
he had finally seemed to understand the message behind Draco�s patient look.

�� Draco
nodded. He had heard the Dark Lord speak of Wormtail a few times, but he had
never been sure if that was the same person as Pettigrew or not.

�� We were
coming out with Pettigrew, but it was a full moon night, and Remus started to
change, and Pettigrew escaped,� Harry said. �Snape was there too. That could
qualify to make the event a dark memory. I know that�seeing Remus there would
have frightened him.� He sounded oblique, and his eyes were shifty. Draco
sighed. He would tell Harry later that he wasn�t a prefect anymore and couldn�t
get Harry in trouble for things that had happened to violate Hogwarts�s rules a
decade ago. �The tree would be the place where he remembered all of that.
Probably.�

�� Hmm,�
Draco said, and decide that he should let it go for now. He had plenty of time
to get to know Harry, after all. �The Whomping Willow is a good choice. We�ll
investigate later, when Weasley gets out of the hospital wing. Is there
anything else that comes to mind? I must admit that the third line of the
riddle troubles me.�

�� Harry
looked up from a mouthful of eggs, which dangled past his teeth like a chewed
moustache. �The third line?�

�� Draco gave
him a tolerant look�it was so obvious that Harry was trying to hide his lack of
memory�and said, �Bright in eternity. The problem with guessing any tree for
this part of the riddle is that it doesn�t fit. Trees are mortal, and die. I
don�t know what that part of it means, but perhaps Granger will have a
suggestion for us.�

�� Harry
nodded and returned to his meal. Draco ate as neatly and quickly as he always
did, not taking his eyes off Harry. Harry began to fidget long before Draco had
finished, and at last looked at him with a rather desperate expression and
muttered, �Do you have to examine me all the time?�

�� Examine
you in what way?� Draco inquired, patting delicately at his mouth with the
napkin.

�� I
just�you�re looking at me like everything I do matters,� Harry muttered, and
set his plate aside. It vanished at once, telling Draco that the house-elves
were watching them. He didn�t think the elves reported to Covington, though, so
that was fine. �I�m not used to that. I spend a lot of time on my own, when I�m
living in my house in the Muggle world.�

�� Draco
smiled. �If it makes you uncomfortable, then we�ll work out a compromise,� he
said. �But lovers do usually look at each other.� He stretched one arm up and
turned his neck, so that Harry could have a fair peek.

�� Harry�s
cheeks turned pink, and he fumbled his fork onto the plate. Draco thought it
was adorable. He didn�t know that he would have thought that of anyone else,
but then, he had gone through rather unusual exertions to win and keep Harry,
which he couldn�t imagine applying to other lovers.

�� To no other lover ever again, if I have done
my work right.

�� I�I�m not
used to it yet,� Harry said, and Draco reckoned that was fair. He wasn�t used
to this yet himself, either, and he didn�t want to drive Harry away before they
had a chance to get on an even footing.

�� Fine,� he
said. �Tell me when you are.� He winked at Harry and finished his breakfast,
dividing his attention between Harry and the riddle in his head. The more he
thought about it, the longer he was certain that it wasn�t a tree.

�� But there
seemed so few other things that fit the clues, and Severus had spoken so often
of the tree as a perfect symbol of all four elements, that Draco thought he would
keep that observation to himself for now. Granger would certainly have more
than enough to say when they met up with her this afternoon.

*

�� I�ve
thought about it, Harry, and I think this is harder than the previous ones.�

�� Harry had
to refrain from rolling his eyes. Of course Hermione would think that, because
she wasn�t the one who had solved the last riddle; he and Draco had.

�� Then he
told himself not to be so uncharitable, and leaned over to look at the list of
suggestions she�d placed on the table beside Ron�s bed. Ron was up, looking
much more cheerful than he had yesterday, and eating a frankly disgusting
breakfast from the tray on his lap. Harry tried to avoid being splattered by
flying food as he squinted thoughtfully at the suggestions.

�� The
Whomping Willow was on there, a few names that Harry didn�t recognize�Hermione
explained that they were precise locations in the Forbidden Forest that she�d
learned about when she first came here to be a professor�and several
classrooms. Apparently some of those had decorations that Hermione thought
might be what the riddle was referring to. Harry couldn�t dispute that, not
when he didn�t have better ideas himself.

�� Could you
stop doing that, Malfoy?�

�� Harry
tensed and raised his head. Ron�s voice didn�t have the extremely hostile tone
he thought it would have a few days before, but it was still loud enough and
rude enough to make Harry anticipate a pitched battle.

�� Draco was
sitting on a chair beside Hermione�s, his face abstracted. He had already studied
her list, and Harry didn�t think he knew any better than Harry did which was
the right one. He wasn�t doing anything in particular, Harry thought, staring
off into space while his fingers twitched now and then.

�� Except that
his hand was resting on Harry�s hip, stroking up and down in the same absent
manner that he might stroke a dog.

�� Harry
coughed, turned red, tried to decide if it was the manner of stroking or the
fact that Draco was touching him at all that had made Ron angry, gave up, and
said, �It�s all right, Ron. I don�t mind.�

�� Draco came
back to the conversation then and lifted his eyebrows. His hand closed down on
Harry�s hip for a moment in a possessive gesture, as if he assumed that someone
would come around the corner to drag Harry away. It loosened almost at once as
he began to smirk, but that little moment of lost control had reassured Harry.
Draco wasn�t as perfect and flawless as he looked. He might still, as silly as
it was, assume that Harry would leave him.

�� Harry
needed that, to know that he wasn�t less important to Draco than Draco was to
him. He might be trying this new business of having a regular lover, but he
didn�t intend to give himself up for anything but a full-time commitment in
return.

�� Oh,
Weasley, are we doing something that offends your delicate sensibilities?�
Draco asked in a croon. �I forgot that you�ve probably only been with one
person, and then you were a virgin until marriage.�

�� Malfoy,� Hermione said in a deeply
annoyed manner, and glanced at Harry. He knew the silent look was a plea to
control his errant lover. He sighed and turned to touch Draco�s hair and his
chin. The touches got Draco�s attention at once, which was what Harry wanted.

�� Let it
go,� Harry mouthed.

�� Draco
regarded him with such an intense stare that Harry thought he had drifted off
into contemplation again. But then he shook his head. �No, why should I?� he
asked loudly. �He�s bothered by something normal and natural, although he would
think it strange if we objected when he snogged his wife. I�m doing less than
that. He can ignore it if he wants. I�m not stopping.� And he immediately began
to stroke Harry�s hip in large, suggestive motions that included his leg. Harry
caught his breath.

�� We�re
supposed to work together,� Hermione said, voice a little shrill. �You�re
making that harder, Malfoy. It�s not such a big thing that Ron�s asking you
for.�

�� It starts
out that way, and it gets bigger,� Ron muttered. �I know him. I know the
liberties that he�ll end up taking.�

�� Stop it.�

�� Everyone
fell silent, blinking. Harry looked around for the iron-voiced person who had
decided to interfere, half-thinking that it might be Madam Pomfrey, who would
want silence and peace for Ron as he recovered.

�� Then he
realized it was him, and that even Draco was regarding him with lifted brows.
Harry coughed and accepted the fact that he had intervened, and that meant he
had to keep going. He sat up straighter, captured Draco�s hand, and carried it
into his lap, where he held it. That ought to satisfy the impulse in Draco to
connect with him while at the same time stifling Ron�s objections.

�� I came to
you because I want you for my friends,� he said. �I brought Draco along because
he�s my lover. I would have a harder time leaving him right now than I would
leaving you, when our reconciliation is so new. Ron, if it bothers you that
much to think about what I do in bed with Draco, look away.�

�� Ron opened
his mouth and then looked away. His jaw was clenched tight with humiliation,
and Harry winced, sorry for it. But he took a deep breath and refused to relent
even when Hermione looked at him with pleading eyes. What could he say? He
wanted to be with his friends again, to joke as they used to, and perhaps he
would be able to help them free Hogwarts from the Ministry�s clutches.

�� But no
matter what he said, something about his sexuality always seemed to bother
them. That it existed, that he was possibly sleeping with other people in a
certain way because of psychological issues, that he had chosen a certain
lover�No matter what he said or how much he gave in, he didn�t think Ron and
Hermione would be satisfied. It would be best if they agreed beforehand on what
they would disagree on and then didn�t bring the subject up again.

�� Ron finally
shut his mouth and whispered something to Hermione; close as he sat, Harry
couldn�t hear it. She took his hand and nodded, then looked back at Harry alone
and said, �We�ll investigate several of these places today. Why don�t you and
Malfoy go to the Whomping Willow, and Ron and I will look at a few places in
the Forbidden Forest?�

�� Will you
be all right, mate?� Harry asked, nodding to Ron�s leg.

�� I think
so,� Ron said. His voice was thick, but he was making the same effort Hermione
was, to ignore Draco and keep going, and Harry smiled at him in thanks. Perhaps
Ron caught the smile, because his voice became a bit warmer. �I mean, I�ve only
got one of the smartest witches in the country with me, and I was only going to
be teaching one of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes here when the
school opened.�

�� Harry
nodded, squeezed Ron�s shoulder, and turned to Draco. He�d been sitting
suspiciously still, which Harry hoped meant he wasn�t preparing some nasty
surprise in the near future. �Are you all right with this division of labor,
Draco?� He wouldn�t let Draco overturn all their plans, but he deserved to be
consulted in an endeavor he had joined.

�� Draco
looked at him calmly, and let a faint smile play along his mouth. Then, before
Harry could stop him, he lifted Harry�s hand to his mouth and kissed the
knuckles with a sharp sucking sound. Ron gagged. Harry thought he heard
Hermione gasp, too, but since he had a hard time looking at anything but
Draco�s face and the deep, intense gaze that was sucking him in and down, he
didn�t know for sure.

�� I will
be,� Draco said, and no more.

*

�� Harry
darted under the wildly moving branches of the willow and stabbed something
high on the trunk. A knot, Draco thought. The branches froze with a shudder,
and Harry turned and nodded to Draco.

�� Draco took
a deep breath and moved in slowly. It had been harder than he�d thought it
would be to watch Harry go in by himself, although Draco had agreed to it
because he didn�t know where the mechanism for stopping the tree was and he
didn�t move as fast as Harry. He had wanted to spring on the branches and force
them to stop moving, or cast a Stunning Charm, or drag Harry back by main
force, anything that would keep him safe.

�� Draco
couldn�t remember fits of protectiveness like that with his other lovers. He
wondered if it had something to do with the fact that he and Harry planned to
make this relationship permanent, or the peculiar nature of the relationship.

�� Watching
Harry trotting back to him with his green eyes bright and his head cocked,
listening to invisible music, Draco decided that it didn�t really matter. The
difference was there, and he would live with it and respect it.

�� He did lean
in and kiss Harry when he slowed to a stop, before he could speak. Harry
blushed and stammered beautifully, of course, as he always did, and then
cleared his throat and turned to the tree as if he thought it would make a
better audience for his embarrassment than Draco would.

�� I didn�t
see any sign that it�s been disturbed recently,� he said. �I�d thought the
Ministry might have placed a charm on it to render it safer, but they didn�t.�

�� Draco
narrowed his eyes in thought. �Perhaps they suspected that something important
was here.�

�� Harry
rolled his eyes at him. �I don�t think so. True, Professor Snape died in the
Shrieking Shack, but I doubt that anyone would be curious enough to go up the
tunnel, the way I did, just to learn how they found the body. They could have
come in through the door, if they wanted.�

�� Draco
jerked his head up in a tight nod. He had forgotten, somehow, that Severus had
died so short a distance from this place.

�� That�s the thing that portraits and lovers
have in common, he thought, irrationally. They make you forget about the dead.

�� I�ll go to
the left,� he said. �You to the right. Shout if you run into a danger that�s
too hard for you to handle.� He wondered if he should have made the
instructions more specific a moment later, because Harry was apt to think that
he could handle any danger, but Harry had nodded and turned away. Draco sighed
and took his own route.

�� Harry was
right; no one appeared to have been near enough the tree to disturb it. Draco
found animal tracks, years of fallen leaves, dirt in abundance, and a few holes
among the roots of the tree itself. He conjured a magical eye each time that
let him peer into the depths of the burrow, but found only more animal tracks
and a few old bones inside.

�� The tree
wasn�t as large as it looked to the eyes of a child. He and Harry met up again
in a few minutes. Harry was frowning.

�� I keep
thinking this has to be the best candidate,� he muttered. �A significant tree.
What other one is there on the grounds? Maybe, if Hermione is right and some of
those sites in the Forbidden
Forest are important,
they could be the right candidates. But what are the chances that a tree in the
forest is important to both Dumbledore and Snape?�

�� Not good,�
Draco had to admit. He was wishing now that he had asked the portrait of
Severus this morning before they left. True, the portrait couldn�t remember the
riddles, but he might be able to tell them if there was any event that they
didn�t know about, something known only to Dumbledore and Severus themselves.

�� Then again,
the riddles weren�t meant to be impossible to solve, and this one could be if
one didn�t speak to the portraits. Draco frowned more fiercely.

�� That line,
�bright in eternity,� has to mean something,� Harry said, as if talking to
himself. �What?�

�� I don�t
know,� Draco said. He looked over his shoulder at the tree again. The roots and
the trunk kept their secrets well. He tapped his fingers on the wand and
thought again. �Perhaps we should investigate the Shrieking Shack. The lines of
the riddle might refer to different places. The first two lines to the Whomping
Willow, perhaps, and the last two to the Shack.�

�� Harry
turned a frown on him in turn. �And you think that the Shack would fit the line
about eternity better than the tree does?�

�� Draco shook
his head. �I know that there were dark memories associated with the Shack for
Severus before he died there. He wouldn�t tell me what they were in detail, but
he tensed up whenever I mentioned it.�

�� Harry,
uncharacteristically, hesitated. �Oh,� he said a moment later, in a lame
fashion. �Did he? That�s strange.�

�� You know
something,� Draco said. He hardly avoided making it a question, he was so
startled. How could Harry have learned something about Severus that Draco
didn�t know? Severus would hardly have chosen him as a confessor.

�� But from
the guilty flush in Harry�s cheeks and the sudden memory of the time that Harry
had spent with Dumbledore when he was younger, Draco could imagine how it might
have happened. He gestured for Harry to go in front of him.

�� The tunnel
that led into the Shrieking Shack was long enough and low enough and dirty
enough that Draco could feel his temper fraying by the time that he finally
came up into the building. It was no wonder that so many students had looked
for the secret and never found it. How many of them would have thought this
entrance was important in the first place, and how many of them could have
crawled as long as Draco had?

�� This had
better be right, Potter,� he growled as he stood up and swatted the dust from
the knees of his trousers. �Or you�re paying for my clothes to be cleaned.�

�� What, you
don�t want me to lick them clean?�

�� Draco
looked up and had to catch his breath. Harry�s eyes were bright with insolence,
his head lowered as if he was going to get right in Draco�s face and challenge
his authority. It probably wouldn�t help either of them if Draco drowned in his
own drool, though, so he turned away with a sneer and began to eye the walls.

�� Harry
chucked behind him. Draco carefully didn�t turn around until he thought his
voice was under control. Then he said, �I don�t see anything here that looks
like a trap or a fight to the death, do you?�

�� No,� Harry
said. �But we didn�t see the water-snakes before we stumbled into that trap,
either. Let�s quarter the room the way we halved the tree. You take that side
first, and I�ll take the other.�

�� Draco
resigned himself to a long period of tapping the walls with his wand and
casting every revealing spell he could think of. No matter how long it took,
though, he was starting to think that there was nothing here. The place looked
as if only the dust and a few rats had lived here since Severus died.

�� What had it
been like, to feel death creeping over him? Draco could imagine it, since he
had analyzed Nagini�s poison from a fang he�d �borrowed� from the Aurors, and
knew what magical properties it had and what potions it was similar to. But he
could never be sure, not when Severus�s portrait didn�t remember his death.

�� That�s what all the dead are like for us, Draco
thought with a faint sigh. Gone beyond
reach and recall.

�� They met up
in the middle of the room the way they had met up near the tree, and Draco
shook his head. �No,� Harry said in response, bending down to look under a
dusty piece of wood that stood near the wall. Draco thought it was the remains
of a bed, left behind now as worthless. There were ashes on the floor near the
foot of the wood that might have been part of the bed at one point. Like
everything else here, they were worth nothing.

�� Draco
shuddered. God, this is a depressing
place. And I�ll depress myself the longer I stay here.

�� Let�s get
out of here,� he said, only to hear another voice echoing him. When he looked
up, he realized that he was looking into Harry�s eyes, which were wide with
what Draco thought was a kind of superstitious dread. Despite everything, he
managed to smirk in Harry�s direction.

�� Oh, shut
up,� Harry muttered, and headed for the tunnel. �Licking dirt off your clothes
looks positively fun next to this.�

�� Those words
were enough to keep Draco dreaming all the way back to the castle.

*

�� Mr.
Potter.�

�� Harry
sighed. He had gone back to his room in Hogsmeade to retrieve his belongings
and pay the money he still owed for the lodgings and meals. He hadn�t meant to
run into Covington
on the way back.

�� Maybe this is why Draco was so insistent
about me not leaving, Harry thought, but realistically, he knew he had to
blame his own behavior for that, not Draco�s fear of Covington. He turned
around and nodded to her. �Good day, ma�am.�

�� Covington had caught him
on the path that wound from Hogsmeade towards the school. She had a flask in
her hand, and waved it at him with a little smile. �They make delicious tea at
the Hog�s Head, if you know how to ask for it,� she said. �I got some to take
with me.�

�� Harry made
a polite noise. He thought the sloshing brown liquid in the flask, the color of
ditch-water, wasn�t a kind of tea he would have chosen, but he was determined
to give Covington
nothing that she could use to impugn or quarrel with him.

�� She fell
into step beside him as they headed up the path. Harry looked at her enough to
fulfill the rules of courtesy, but was glad that the walls of Hogwarts came
nearer and nearer every minute and he would soon be back inside them.

�� I wish you
would learn to work with the Ministry, Mr. Potter.�

�� Harry hoped
that his smile didn�t look too fake. �Well, I�ve never been good at working under
authority. If you�ve spoken with Professor McGonagall or any of the others who
remember me, you must have heard that I was in trouble constantly when I was a
student.�

�� Covington put a hand on
his sleeve. Harry halted because he had to, but he could feel the anger
stirring beneath the surface of his skin, in a way it hadn�t since he had
agreed to try and make a go of this with Draco. He would never be comfortable
with strangers touching him.

�� We are not
children now, Mr. Potter.� Covington
could do an impression amount of wide-eyed, solemn speaking when she had to,
Harry thought. �I had hoped we could move past this and into a cooperative bond
based on what we both have to offer.�

�� Harry
resisted the temptation to either send flame ringing up her fingers or take her
words overly personally. �You mean the Ministry and me?� he asked. �No, I don�t
think of the members of the Ministry as children.� Just childish. �I�m not sure what growing up has to do with anything
when you�re talking about an organization.�

�� You want
to see a stable wizarding world, and you want to see Hogwarts open again,� Covington said, peering
into his eyes as if she would see a demon hiding behind them that might account
for his strange actions. �That is all the Ministry wants, as well. We are
unsure why you are resisting so much.�

�� I distrust
the Ministry�s methods, if not its goals.� Harry glanced at Hogwarts. He would
have given a lot to see Draco, or even Ron and Hermione, strolling along the
paths right now.

�� Then he
shook his head. What was he thinking? He could certainly handle Covington, and the guilt
that her soft, insinuating words were trying to inspire in him. He was a more
powerful wizard than the Ministry had ever known, since Harry hadn�t showed
them his magic on the days when he knew he couldn�t control it.

�� Covington�s hand tightened
on his arm, and she breathed a single word that Harry didn�t recognize, a word
in Latin. His muscles froze.

�� Harry�s
magic boiled up at once, coming from beneath his heart and liver. He knew that
he would shatter the spell she had cast in a few moments and then he would make
her sorry, sorry that she lived and breathed�

�� His magic
met the barrier of the spell, and stuck there. Incredulous, Harry tried to will
his magic to open his throat, to let his eyes blink, or even to curl one of his
fingers. Nothing happened.

�� Covington stepped around
in front of him. She had a faint whiteness to her face that made Harry think
she hadn�t been sure that spell would work until she actually used it, but she had used it, and he was going to destroy
her. He glared at her so that she would know that.

�� Covington didn�t seem
inclined to pay attention. Instead, she held up the flask of brown liquid and
turned it back and forth, as if she wanted to see how much sunlight could get
through the muddy amber. Harry felt his heart begin to pick up speed in a way
that was unfamiliar from the last few years. He had felt much anger, but not
much fear.

�� Not
enough,� Covington
said with what sounded like regret. �Not enough to keep you under control for
days, at least. And I do wish that I
had managed to freeze you when your mouth was open. This is going to be
difficult.� She looked at his face and offered the kind of apologetic shrug
Harry thought she might give one of her superiors at the Ministry. �Oh, well.
I�ve done harder things.�

�� She reached
up and clamped her hand on his jaw, prying it down. Harry felt the barrier of
the spell that stuck against the surface of his skin shiver, broken by the
movement of one part of his body. He tensed, ready to attack, if only with a
bite, the moment she let his jaw go.

�� She didn�t
give him a chance. His lips opened reluctantly, and she laid the mouth of the
flask against it, pouring in the liquid. Harry choked, and went on choking as
the drink poured in. He could feel it trickling down between his teeth and
along the sides of his face.

�� Covington sighed. �It�s
only too clear that no one tried this in the field,� she muttered, and then
cast another spell with a wave of her wand. The muscles in Harry�s throat
relaxed, and she reached up and started to massage them, trying to force him to
swallow.

�� Harry
didn�t hesitate. He wouldn�t get a better chance. Once again, she had disrupted
the integrity of the immobilizing spell, weakening it, and her skin was against
his skin now, rather than the harmless glass of the flask. He would wound her.
He had wounded people with less magic and less anger.

�� The magic
flung itself against the sides of his throat, against the charm that continued
to hold him prisoner. It was difficult, especially because his unblinking eyes
were beginning to dry out and ache, and he had to worry about what the potion
that had already flowed down his throat would do to him. But the desperation
was a goad to the fury, and on he worked, reaching up again and again and
scraping the anger against her spell like a chisel against rock.

�� It gave
way. Suddenly Harry could feel her fingers against his skin, instead of a
distant sensation as if she touched him through gloves, and that meant the
magic could feel her.

�� Covington shrieked as
spikes grew through the sides of Harry�s neck and curled around her fingers,
holding them trapped there. She yanked, and Harry worried for a moment about
the spikes simply tearing his flesh aside to keep her prisoner.

�� But the
magic protected him against any pain, or else the anger did. The magic passed
through Harry like lightning, up and then down, and broke the glassy spell that
gripped his limbs. He flexed his arms, reached up, grabbed the flask, and flung
it away from him, while at the same time spitting out all the liquid that was
still in his mouth.

�� The flask
shattered on the ground. Harry grimaced and Summoned one shard of glass coated
with the potion, the magic extending from his fingers into another, giant hand
and scooping up the shard. He should probably keep that so Draco could analyze
the potion and tell him what it had been meant to do.

�� Covington was still
screaming. Harry stepped back, but the spikes pulled her with him, and she was
screaming practically into his face, her own face splotched with red and white.

�� Harry
panted. He wanted to destroy her. The magic that could do it raged up and down
in him, as capable of being aimed as a Muggle gun. He could do it, and no one
would find a trace of her. The Ministry could investigate, but they would never
learn what happened. Harry was capable of concealing every hint.

�� They might
suspect him. They wouldn�t know.

�� Harry
swallowed and closed his eyes. He envisioned Draco�s face, and then the way
Draco had lain on top of him when they were in bed together last night. He
remembered the tight feeling of the chains around his limbs when they were in
the Room of Requirement together. The Ministry might not be able to find the
evidence, but he thought they would condemn him for the murder anyway when Covington disappeared, and
that would�it would devastate Draco. Or at least Harry thought so. It was still
strange to work through these ideas and think that someone other than him would
care if he was condemned to Azkaban.

�� He
concentrated. The spikes snapped back into his throat. Harry glared at Covington. He didn�t know
if he had swallowed any of the potion, but if he had, it wasn�t enough to make
him into her slave, or whatever else it had been meant to do. Covington lay on the ground and whimpered
softly with big eyes, staring up at him.

�� Remember
that I spared your life,� Harry said. His voice was rough. He shook his head
and turned away when the temptation to make her stop whimpering came to him.

�� He carried
the shard, and he carried the memory, which he would place in a Pensieve as
soon as he could. He had never actually committed murder, despite the
temptations that had sometimes presented themselves when his magic was high. He
would keep from it now, when he was on the verge of a better life. He wasn�t
going to allow Covington
to ruin that for him.

*

�� Draco
glanced at the clock and frowned. He thought it shouldn�t have taken Harry as
long as this to fetch his belongings from Hogsmeade, but perhaps he had stopped
to talk to Granger or Weasel. Perhaps he had decided to have lunch instead of
eating with Draco.

�� Perhaps he
is not coming back,� Severus murmured from the portrait frame, with exquisitely
painful timing.

�� Shut up,�
Draco snapped at him, and then bent again over the cauldron that contained the
sentient potion. It had retreated to the bottom and decided to sulk today.
Draco was trying to figure out how he would coax it into performing when it had
grown smart enough to suspect that doing so would be the prelude to pain.

�� What
reason does he have to stay with you?� Small splashes and plops came from
Severus�s painting. He had been brewing something new all day, although Draco
didn�t know what it was. �Tell me that. You have been very accommodating for
him, very convenient. He got the ability to settle his anger and a good fuck
from you. But when he left your immediate presence, he would begin to think
again. He would begin to think that he has his friends back, and that they
stand a good chance of helping him solve the riddle even if you don�t. Why would
he return?�

�� Be quiet,
Severus,� Draco said.

�� The words
still hung in the air when someone knocked at the door. Draco shot Severus a
triumphant look as he went to open it, and was delighted to see that Severus
was ruffled enough to betray a frown. He quickly looked the other way, of
course, and dropped something new into the cauldron. The potion hissed in a
discouraging way.

�� When Draco
opened the door, Harry staggered in, carrying something covered with a
foul-looking potion and blood in his hand. He nodded to Draco and leaned
against the wall for a minute. �I got hurt more than I thought I did,� he
gasped.

�� Draco
stared at him for a moment, so shocked that it was difficult to move. Harry
blinked at him and pushed a hank of hair hanging in his eyes aside. His
expression was inquiring, but it suddenly closed and he moved to the side,
looking away. �Well,� he said, voice distant, �it doesn�t matter. I�ll put this
over here and tell you what happened, and you can analyze the potion when you
have time for it. I see that you�re working right now.�

�� The words
were enough to loosen Draco�s paralysis. He knew when someone was drawing away
from him, when he was losing contact that he desired, and he would not allow Harry to go right back into
the holding pattern from which Draco had labored so hard to rescue him. He
grabbed Harry�s shoulders and propelled him backwards into the wall. Harry
winced, but not with the exaggerated movements Draco knew would mark back
injuries. He lifted his head, too, a moment later, and glared at Draco.

�� Malfoy,
what the hell��

�� Draco
fastened his mouth into place, kissing and biting. Perhaps he could have spoken
reassuring words instead, but he wanted to apologize for the moment of shock
and tell Harry that he was still welcome here without words.

�� Harry
stiffened, then melted against him with a small whimper that he was flushed red
about when Draco pulled away to look at him. His hand had wandered into Draco�s
hair and locked on, and his eyes were closed, his head tilted back. Draco
nodded and kissed his forehead in turn, then lifted the bleeding hand.

�� It looks
like that you cut your hand on the glass,� he said. He was amazed to hear his
voice come out critical and calm, balanced, rather than the scolding tone he had
thought he would adopt. �Why did that happen? Why couldn�t you use your magic
to pick it up?�

�� I did at
first,� Harry said. He was still leaning against the wall, hand in Draco�s
hair, though it was starting to lose its grip and wander down to his shoulder.
�But I had to pick it up when the magic faded. That must have happened
somewhere along the path to your rooms. I really don�t remember it,� he added,
in what sounded like a voice of astonishment. �I wonder why?�

�� Draco shook
his head. He didn�t know enough about Harry�s relationship with his magic to
say what was and wasn�t normal. He wouldn�t think about that for right now, and
concentrate on keeping Harry�s trust and learning the truth instead. �What
happened?� he asked, levitating the shard from Harry�s fingers with a flick of
his wand. The shard landed on the table and sat there, sopping. Draco wrinkled
his nose. The potion�s original smell was no treat, but it smelled worse when
mixed with the blood that Harry had left on the glass.

�� I don�t know,�
Harry said. �I mean, Covington
stopped me, and then she used some sort of spell, sent through her hand on my
arm, to freeze me in place. She had to unfreeze my jaw and throat muscles to
get the potion down me, though. That was when I shot spikes through my neck and
ripped her hand up.�

�� Draco at
once crossed the room and pushed Harry back against the wall just as he was
starting to step away. Harry went, wrinkling his forehead at Draco as if to ask
what the problem was.

�� Where did
the spikes come out?� Draco demanded, staring at Harry�s throat. It looked
uninjured to him, but he had to admit that he didn�t know much about this kind
of thing, and didn�t know if magical defenses like that would necessarily leave
any remnant behind.

�� Out of my
neck, in the front,� Harry said. �I�m afraid that I can�t name the muscles. I
rather had other things on my mind at the time,� he added, and now there was a
sneer in the back of his voice that spoke of his rising anger.

�� Draco
wrapped his hand around the base of Harry�s throat and hung on. Harry�s eyes
widened, then closed again. Draco smiled. The restraint appealed to Harry, and
exercising it took away some of Draco�s murderous fury that urged him to dash
outside, find Covington,
and then kill her.

�� You did right,
hurting her,� he whispered. �But you didn�t kill her, and that�s good.� He was
sure Harry would have confessed at once if they had a death to cover up. �What
did the potion taste like?�

�� Frogs�
legs and other unmentionables, what I could taste of it through the binding
spell that she cast on me,� Harry said, making a face. He didn�t turn away from
the clutch that Draco had on his throat, though, and Draco made no attempt to
release him. �She pretended it was tea she had bought in Hogsmeade at first.�

�� She needed
to get close to you to use it,� Draco said quietly, and turned his head so that
he could look at the glass on the table. He wanted to go and analyze the
mixture that he could see shimmering sickly all over it, but it would have
meant releasing Harry. He wasn�t sure if that was the best idea. �That limits
the number of potions it could have been.�

�� What?�
Harry asked. His voice was slurring a bit. Shock, Draco thought, eyeing him. He
had probably got through the moments of immediate danger all right, but now he
was beginning to shake with reaction. �Of course she would have to get close to
me to use it. It�s a potion. She didn�t have any choice, if she wanted me to
swallow it.�

�� Draco
tapped the back of Harry�s skull with one finger, making his eyes flutter open
again when they�d been on the verge of closing. �Keep up,� he said mildly.
�There are some potions that you can use from a distance. If it could be
absorbed through your skin or smelled, then she wouldn�t have had to freeze you
like that. Inviting you to smell the �delicious tea� she had would have been
enough. And she also made an effort to catch you alone. That suggests the
changes the potion brings about would have happened immediately, or at least
quickly, and in a way that would have been unmistakably different from your
normal behavior to anyone who knew you.�

�Do you know me?� Harry gave him a
crooked smile as his eyes fluttered shut again. �I didn�t notice.�

�Lie down,� Draco murmured into his
ear. �I�m going to work on analyzing this potion, and I would rather that you
were spending your time in a place where I know you were. If some of the potion
did go down your throat��

�It couldn�t have been a lot,�
Harry argued, struggling to keep his eyes open. �I would have felt it, I
think.�

�� We don�t
always know what�s our own behavior and what�s not, when we�re under the
influence of a new potion,� Draco said, with perfect sympathy. He had experimented
with some of his own concoctions, to make sure that they were sufficiently undetectable,
and he still remembered the strange impulses that had dashed through him, as
though he was host to another person�s spirit. �For now, I want you to lie down
and see if you can sleep this off.�

�� Harry
grunted. Draco thought for a minute they would get into another row, but Harry
sighed, murmured, �Yes, Draco,� and staggered through the door into the
bedroom. Draco peered after him just to make sure that he really was collapsing
on the bed instead of the floor, and then returned to the shard of glass.

�� Bring that
here.�

�� Draco
started. He had forgotten that they had a witness. But this was potentially
something that Severus would help with, rather than simply mock from a
distance, and so Draco scooped up the shard and took it over to the portrait.
He had already cast a spell that would keep his skin from being pierced. He
would no more feed an unknown potion into his veins than he would send Harry
back out to face Covington right now.

�� Covington.

�� An anger
that was alien in its intensity moved through Draco when he thought of her
attacking Harry. He would destroy her for that. He would destroy her for a
great deal, in truth, but that would come first.

�� Harry was his.

�� And that
meant no one got to take him away, either in the way that Draco suspected this
potion was meant to do or in others. He could feel his lips sliding back from
his teeth as he thought about it, and had to shake his head sharply to bring
his mind back to a focus on what Severus was saying about the potion.

�� The portrait
looked at him from the corner of one eye as he spoke, perhaps wondering whether
Draco would storm out of the room and try to confront Covington immediately. �That brown color says
that it shares some ingredients with the Willow Spine potion.�

�� Draco
nodded, not seeing the need to look less ferocious. The Willow Spine potion
would weaken the victim�s willpower, leading him to do more or less as the
creator of the potion commanded. With great effort, a command could be
resisted, but then it took longer for the will to recover, and in the meantime,
the Potions master involved could wring more actions out of his defeated slave.

�� It was an
especially insidious weapon to use against someone like Harry, since Draco
suspected he would fight back at once instead of waiting for a more
advantageous time and place the way that some people would, and that meant Covington
could wait out the initial struggle and dangle him from her fingers like a
puppet thereafter.

�� Is it a
variation?� he asked. �I can�t believe Covington
would carry pure Willow Spine about with her, not when the consequences for
being caught with it are too great for even the Ministry to tolerate.�

�� Smell it,�
Severus said. �Carefully,� he added, as if he suspected Draco would try to
plunge his nose into the middle of the potion. �The Willow Spine works by
ingestion, but this could be an olfactory cousin.�

�� Yes, thank
you for that elementary precaution,� Draco murmured. He let his nostrils open
delicately to their widest extent. He could smell something crushed and green
at the base of the potion, with salt and murk piled on top of that. That wasn�t
the usual scent of the Willow Spine, and he frowned. �It really does smell like
the ditchwater that it resembles,� he admitted.

�� Severus
laughed. Draco looked up at him with an eyebrow raised, wondering if Covington had paid a great
deal of money for a potion that wouldn�t work. Draco would punish her severely
no matter what, of course, but it might lessen the charges that he could bring
against her, if he chose that route.

�� Severus,
though, wore the delighted expression he usually got when contemplating a
master�s work, not the scorn that he showed those fools trapped by their own
stupidity. �It was experimental when I was alive,� he said. �The Danish had
begun to modify the Willow Spine so that it would have a more subtle but
lasting influence. The one who used the potion would still be in control, but
wouldn�t be able to count on instant obedience. On the other hand, that has its
advantages, since it means that the orders could take place over longer periods
of time, and the one fed the potion could be trusted out of sight. My guess is
that Covington
intended to feed Potter that potion and then Obliviate him so that he would obey her without realizing what had
happened.�

�� Draco
nodded. One reason the Willow Spine potion wasn�t more used was the sort of
bond it created between the victim and his master, which ensured that he would
remember what had happened�and be able to testify against his master, if he
escaped�even if a Memory Charm was used. �And undetectable, of course?�

�� But of
course,� Severus murmured. Then a shadow of uncertainty passed over his face.
�At least, the Danish version was supposed to be. They never perfected it, that
I had heard. I strongly suspect that we would not be able to tell if this
version was supposed to be unless we tested it.�

�� Which I am
not in a hurry to do,� Draco said acidly, thinking of the way that Harry had
looked when he came back into their rooms.

�� Severus
inclined his head in agreement. �But perhaps you should do something about Covington, given that she
has, at the moment, nothing but a torn hand and a chance to have cleaned up the
flask the potion came in.�

�� Draco
cursed and spun to face the door. In his overwhelming concern for Harry, it
hadn�t even occurred to him that Covington
would be spinning her own story as hard as she could in the time left to her.

�� You are in
love,� Severus said in a tolerant voice. �And love makes us fools of us all.�

�� Between
the two of us,� Draco snapped back, as he reached out and plucked one of the
vials from the central table in the room, �we have more power than Covington can command or
comprehend, which was precisely why she wanted to ride on our backs.�

�� Severus�s
reply was cut off by the slam of the door. Draco took a moment, standing in the
dungeon corridor, to master his breathing and his heartrate. He had no
intention of letting Covington
escape, but on the other hand, he couldn�t charge around like a madman looking
for her.

�� He pressed
forwards.
- 6
- 7
- 8
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Chosen Chains