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Unexpected Reactions	By : isabel88 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 5024 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Harry Potter...and due to that fact, NO MONEY is being made from this fic.

Chapter List
- 1-Unexpected Reactions
- 1
Title: Unexpected Reactions

Author: Mykkila09

Chapter (s): 1/1

Story Word Count: 6,057

Settings: AU of the Goblet of Fire: the name choosing scene

Summary: the reactions and consequences of Harry’s name coming out of the Goblet of Fire

Rating: T: for minor language

A/N: this is how I thought that specific scene could’ve gone...and everyone is quite probably OOC, but it is needed.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; that right belongs to JK Rowling along with Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended

A/N 2: now that that is out of the way...enjoy...

Harry looked around the hall, disbelief etched onto his face; he took in the horrified, angered, confused looks of everyone else before bringing his gaze back to Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwart’s School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

‘Don’t worry Harry, this is just a dream; this is not real. Any moment now you’re going to wake up back in your dorm.’

With that thought, he blinked repeatedly, when he looked and still saw everyone looking at him, he turned to the table, dipped his fingers in the glass of water and flicked them at his face. He looked up once more and still saw the same images; with one last desperate thought, he closed his eyes tightly and slowly reached up his left hand to pinch himself on his right forearm. Hesitantly, he opened his eyes and saw that it was the same scene which meant one thing; it was not a dream, his name truly had come out of the Goblet and the Headmaster had called him up there.

He looked towards his friends, wanting to ask them something...anything, but before he could say anything, Ron beat him to it.

“How could you?!” the redhead hissed towards him

“Wh-what?” Harry drew back slightly, staring at his friend in confusion.

“We talked about it,” Ron continued, anger colouring his voice which had started to rise. “I can’t believe you. What, you don’t have enough fame as the Boy-Who-Lived, you had to do this as well?”

“What?” Harry’s disbelief soon turned to anger; he couldn’t believe Ron’s words. ‘He thinks I want this...that I did this?’

“Oh don’t give me that,” Ron snarled out even as his hands clenched tightly into fists. “You just couldn’t leave the glory to someone else...you just had to do this.”

“Are you bloody kidding me?” Harry’s eyes narrowed at Ron before he turned to his other friend, Hermione, only to see the disappointment in her gaze.

“Oh Harry,” Hermione sighed. “I thought you had enough near death situations in Quidditch every year?”

Harry’s eyes narrowed at her as well and he could once more feel the anger building in him; he couldn’t believe that his best friends, the people who were supposed to know him better than anyone else, thought he had done something like this. And Hermione’s comment had filled him with hurt along with the anger. ‘I can’t believe she would say that. She knows I hate being nearly killed every year and Ron...how could he say that? How could he think I’d want more fame to add on the one I already have?’

“Harry,” Dumbledore called out once more, preventing Harry from replying to both Ron and Hermione.

With one last glance at his so-called friends, Harry stood up and turned towards the Headmaster. He saw that the other champions, Cedric Diggory from Hufflepuff, Fleur Delacour from Beaubatons and Viktor Krum from Durmstrang had rejoined the others, probably wondering what was taking the other teachers and Headmaster that long, or maybe they had been told what was going on.

Harry walked until he came to the end of the Gryffindor table, aware of every eye in the Great Hall still on me. He looked around once more before looking back at the Headmaster. He saw the question forming before the Headmaster even spoke it and answered it.

“I did not put my name in the Goblet of Fire,” Harry stated clearly for everyone to hear, though he was sure that even if he had whispered, with the deathly silence in the Hall, it would still be heard by everyone.

“Are you sure my boy?” Dumbledore asked.

‘Great, not even the Headmaster believes me.’ “Yes I’m sure,” Harry replied.

“Then how did you do it huh?” Ron shouted out in anger. “Did you get someone to do it for you? I bet you did.”

Harry refused to turn around even as the whispers started up in the Hall; he kept his gaze on Dumbledore.

“The lad still has to compete,” the gruff voice of the DADA teacher, Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody interrupted. “The contract to the Goblet is binding; failure to comply results in death.”

“I don’t see why I have to compete when I didn’t put my name in the Goblet,” Harry insisted once more.

“First a traitor, now you’re a coward as well,” Ron jeered loudly and the whispers grew in intensity.

Harry’s hands clenched into fists as he felt the hurt and anger swirling in him at Ron’s words.

At the Slytherin’s table, one pale, moonlit haired, grey eyed boy watched Harry with curious eyes.

~...~

Draco couldn’t believe it when Potter’s name came out of the Goblet; a sneer had been in place without him even being fully aware of it as he turned to look at the Gryffindor table, only to lose it when he caught the look on said boy’s face. Draco’s sneer dropped only to be replaced by confusion. He took one look at Potter’s face and came to a sudden conclusion;

‘He didn’t do it...he didn’t put his name in and he didn’t ask anyone to do it either,’ Draco’s brows furrowed as he kept his gaze on Potter. He saw Potter turn to look at the Weasel, easily seeing the anger in the redhead’s eyes and face. He heard the Weasel’s voice start to rise and heard the accusation and couldn’t help but to scoff. ‘Is he serious? I always knew Weasel was a scatter-brained idiot, but this is too much. One look at Potter and you’d know he didn’t do this...though why am I defending him?’

He scowled, which transformed into a sneer when he saw Potter get up from the bench and walk to the old coot of a Headmaster. ‘Can’t let anyone see anything other than a sneer on my face...too much questions, ones that I don’t want to answer.’

“I did not put my name in the Goblet of Fire,” he heard Potter say and snorted. ‘Of course you didn’t, and if anyone looked closely, they’d realize it as well.’

“Are you sure my boy?” Dumbledore asked.

“Yes I’m sure,” he saw Potter nod.

“Then how did you do it huh?” Ron shouted out in anger. “Did you get someone to do it for you? I bet you did.”

He scoffed at the Weasel’s words. “Seriously,” he turned to a fellow Slytherin; a dark skinned Italian male by the name of Blaise Zabini. “We all know Potter’s an attention seeking prat, but do they really have to keep us here to listen to this farce.”

“I know,” Blaise nodded, “but between me and you, I’d rather not get on our Head of House’s bad side for skipping out in his eye sight.”

Draco frowned before looking up at his Head; a man with hair as black as midnight, that fell lankly to his shoulders, a crooked nose as if it was broken and never reset right, obsidian eyes that seemed to bore into you and a blank expression on his face with the exception of the slight tightening around his mouth, the only showing his displeasure at what was going on.

Draco turned from Snape and back to where the Headmaster and Potter stood. He watched as their DADA teacher walked over to the two.

“The lad still has to compete,” the man said. ““The contract to the Goblet is binding; failure to comply results in death.”

“I don’t see why I have to compete when I didn’t put my name in the Goblet,” he heard Potter insist; though he had no idea why he kept telling them as no one was listening.

“First a traitor, now you’re a coward as well,” Ron jeered loudly and the whispers grew in intensity.

He watched even as he felt trepidation rose in him; against better judgement, his father had told him of the tournament and how competitors had died in it, thus warning Draco to stay away from entering into it. For the past four years, Potter had been a constant in Draco’s life; the two collided as they seemed to rile each other up more than anyone else in the school. And in that instant, Draco felt a slight fission of fear of Potter dying in the tournament. He couldn’t fully understand why he would be so disturbed by it, but it drove him to his feet and before he knew it, he was walking to where Potter was standing, aware of the whispers increasing before going silent as he stood on the left side of Potter.

~...~

Harry stiffened; he knew instinctively that it was Malfoy as it seemed that he had fine tuned to the blond to know whenever he was near.

“Well, well, well,” the silky drawl of Malfoy sounded from next to him. “It seems Potter that you couldn’t keep yourself out of the spotlight once again.”

“Fuck off Malfoy,” Harry spoke through gritted teeth.

“Bite me Potter,” Draco responded while turning to look at Harry. “We’re all tired of you being a glory seeking hound, but even I am shocked by what you did.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Harry hissed out, as the crowd looked back and forth between the two rivals.

“Oh really?” Draco raised an eyebrow. “Oh and I suppose we’re supposed to believe you? You can swear all you want, but it’s a moot point.” ‘Come on Potter, pick up on the clue.’

Harry turned fully to look at Draco; something in the blond’s voice when he said the word swear raised his heckles. His brows furrowed slightly as she tried to figure out what it was. As if he sensed the thought in Draco’s head, his eyes widened just a bit and he pulled his wand out of his pocket, drawing gasps from everyone else.

“I Harry James Potter,” he started, much to the shock of everyone and the horror of two people, “swear on my magic that I did not enter my name into the Goblet of Fire and I did not ask someone else to do it for me either. So I speak it, so mote it be.” A flash of light signalled the bonding vow of the words and everyone waited breathlessly.

“Lumos,” Harry said and watched in satisfaction as his wand lit up, generating whispers once again; he chanced a glance at where Ron and Hermione sat and saw the contrite look on their faces, but he ignored them and it.

“He still has to compete,” Moody insisted.

“I don’t fucking have to,” Harry turned to growl at the man.

“Mr. Potter!” his Head of House, Minerva McGonagall, admonished him, “Language!”

He ignored her as he stared at Moody and Dumbledore. “I didn’t put my name in and I just proved it, you can’t make me compete.”

“It is binding,” Dumbledore stated sadly, though his eyes held determination if one was to look closely. “I’m afraid you have no choice.”

“Yes he does!” a voice sounded behind him and they turned and watched a fellow Gryffindor, Neville Longbottom, stood up from his seat and made his way towards them.

“H-Harry does have a-a choice,” Neville stuttered as he came to a stop on Harry’s right side. He looked at his Head of House, the Headmaster and the DADA teacher and felt himself falter; his gaze then drifted over to Harry and the disbelief and gratitude shining from the emerald eyes bolstered him. Taking a deep breath, he turned back to the teachers. “Harry just took an oath, swearing he didn’t put his name, nor did he ask anyone else to, in the Goblet, as such, he cannot be forced to compete, especially if he refused.” He stopped and looked at Harry, silently urging him to do so.

“I refuse to participate in the tournament,” Harry stated when he saw the look in Neville’s eyes.

“My boy,” Dumbledore started. “Alastor is right, the contract is magically binding; you have to.”

“Ok,” Draco sneered, “so what you’re saying is, Potter will be forced to compete even though he didn’t enter his own name. If your logic holds true Headmaster, then a sixth or seventh year could’ve entered the name of a first year and they would’ve had to compete.”

Dumbledore opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, Neville picked up where Draco left off.

“I thought this Goblet had precautions around it?” Neville asked. “If that’s true, then I’d think one of the precautions would be to prevent something like this from happening. I mean, you’re the great and powerful Dumbledore; surely you’ve thought of situations like this and did something to prevent it. After all, you said the age line was created to protect underage students from entering themselves for fear of getting hurt or worse, so why now are you trying to force Harry to enter, especially when he rescinded the decision to compete, thus breaking the contract?”

Everyone stared at the normally quiet and shy Gryffindor in shock; they couldn’t believe he had just spoken that way to the Headmaster.

“As much as I loathe doing this,” the unmistakable drawl of the Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House, Severus Snape, caused heads to turn to where he was standing. “I must agree with Mr. Longbottom.”

“So do I,” McGonagall added on and one by one, the other teachers agreed as well, leaving only two who didn’t.

“The boy has to compete,” Moody insisted as he glared at the teachers, Snape especially.

“Says who?” Harry asked. “I don’t have to and I won’t...I refuse to, so my suggestion is that you do one of two things; either redo the name choosing or you continue on using the three competitors that you do have.”

Everyone stared at the group up front, holding their breaths in anticipation; they couldn’t believe that Draco Malfoy, the Ice Prince of Slytherin and subsequent rival of the Golden Boy of Gryffindor defended said boy or that Neville stood up to the Headmaster and even worse, Snape, the snarky git of a teacher had agreed with one of the two students he hated most.

“Albus?” McGonagall questioned.

Dumbledore looked at everyone before turning to look at Harry. ‘What to do? I can’t very well carry on with my plans after this performance. Who knew the Malfoy and Longbottom brats would interfere.’ “Very well then, Mr. Potter shall not compete.”

“You cannot do that,” Moody snarled.

“It seems Headmaster, that Alastor is very adamant in Mr. Potter performing in the tournament, perhaps, too adamant,” Snape injected. “Pray tell why that is? Why is it so important that Mr. Potter compete?”

“I am not,” Moody denied. “And there is no importance. Rules are rules and they should be followed.”

“Nevertheless,” Dumbledore interrupted. “It seems as if someone wanted Harry to compete, and as Hogwarts already has a champion, I’m afraid my decision is final; Harry will not compete.”

“Fine by me,” Harry said as he gave a mock bow before turning to walk away, Neville and surprisingly Draco, following. When he got near Ron and Hermione, the two stood and looked at him, contrite about their previous reactions.

“Mate/Harry,” Ron and Hermione spoke up.

“Piss off both of you,” Harry stopped and looked at them in disdain. “I don’t want to hear it; you’re supposed to be my best friends, the ones who know me better than anyone and yet the both of you condemned me without thought. You two should’ve known better than anyone that I would never have put my name or asked someone to do it for me.”

“We’re sorry,” Hermione pleaded.

“And I suppose your “I’m sorry” is supposed to make it all better?” Harry raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “I shouldn’t have to sworn on my magic to prove the truth. Some best friends you turned out to be.”

With that, he turned to walk away.

“That’s it?” Ron shouted after him. “You’re just going to throw away our friendship?”

“No Ron,” Harry answered without looking back. “You did that the moment you accused me of not being satisfied with my fame as the Boy-Who-Lived and wanting more; you did it the moment you even thought I would do something like that when you know how I felt about that title and my fame.” He continued walking on, not turning back to look at the two.

“I can’t believe you two,” Neville hissed, “to even think that about Harry when you knew better...especially you Hermione; to throw that in his face.” Neville shook his head in disgust before hurrying after Harry.

“I always said Weasel,” Draco smirked at Ron, “that you were a blood traitor, but it turns out you’re a traitor all around.”

Before Ron could respond, Draco walked away, heading in the same direction as Harry and Neville. The moment he stepped through the doors, the Hall erupted in noise.

No one knew of the consequences that would follow Harry’s decision not to participate.

~...~

With Harry no longer in the tournament, Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody, who was actually Death Eater, Barty Crouch Jr. in disguise, had to drastically change his plans. Panic flowing through him, he had to forego all the plans he had made as he wondered how to help his Lord. Without Harry, Viktor Krum was never placed under the Imperius Curse and Fleur Delacour was never attacked, and Cedric Diggory would be the first to reach the cup which would not be turned into a portkey, thus no student would be whisked away to a graveyard to be used as a sacrifice and killed.

Without Harry in the tournament and not being forced into the winning position to grab the-would-be portkeyed cup, he was not sent to the graveyard where his blood would be used in a ritual to bring back the Dark Lord. This would force Barty Crouch Jr. from his post at Hogwarts to use his own blood in the ritual and because it was not the blood forcibly taken from his enemy but rather the blood willing giving from his most loyal servant, the being that rose from the cauldron resembled a human and took a few steps to his servants before, to their horror, his skin started peeling and he fell to the ground screaming and writhing in pain.

Not willing to die, the being known as Voldemort a subconscious decision; soon, six green coloured lights flew through the air and slammed into the Dark Lord, including one from an unsuspecting Golden Boy.

~...~

In the stands, sitting being Draco and Neville, Harry watched as the three students made their way through the maze. He was thankful that he wasn’t in it as he had no idea how he would’ve made it through.

As if sensing his thoughts, he felt a squeeze to his hand and looked over at Draco who leaned over to press a kiss to his cheeks. Harry smiled; he had been surprised, as had everyone else, at the persistent presence of the blond. After that day in the hall, Draco had constantly spent time with both Harry and Neville, talking with them, creating the friendship that he had so longed for back in first year. Ron and Hermione had spent the last few months trying to speak with Harry, but he refused to renew his friendship with the duo; he knew he was being immature, but with everything that had happened in his life with regards to the Dursleys, he felt he was right. Harry didn’t trust easily, but when he did, he stayed loyal to that trust and it could not swayed easily; if that trust was broken, then that was it. Draco had talked, earning the trust of both Harry and Neville and by the time the second task was through, both realized they held more than friendship towards each other; they admitted their feelings but kept the newfound status of the relationship from everyone except Neville.

He squeezed Draco’s hand and turned back to the tournament; he cheered with the others when it was revealed that Cedric was the winner, but is joy soon turned to horror when he felt the overwhelming pain flow through his scar; his hands few to his forehead as he let out a horrifying, heart-wrenching scream, that cut through the loud celebration.

“Harry!” Draco turned to his boyfriend, as did everyone else; he could only stare in horror as Harry’s body started floating and a green light started pouring out of his forehead followed by a white one. He ignored the horrified gasps from the crowd and grabbed Harry’s hand, along with Neville, and pulled his body back to the ground.

By that time, the teachers had already made their way to the trio.

“Headmaster,” Snape kept his gaze on Harry and Draco even as he addressed the man. “What is going on?”

“I fear I do not know,” Dumbledore said as he looked at the two teens.

Snape hissed and his hand flew to his left forearm where he felt a pulsing pain.

“Severus?” Albus questioned.

“Something is happening,” Snape answered between gritted teeth.

Draco ignored everyone as he squeezed Harry’s hand tight in his. He looked at the boy he loved, wondering what to do when it came to him; trusting the feeling and his instinct, he held Harry’s right hand in his left and placed his right hand over Harry’s palm before he leaned over the brunet.

“I love you Harry,” he said before he pressed his lips against Harry’s in a kiss. The crowd went silent at the action.

Draco kept the kiss going as he poured all his love into it and everyone watched as the blond glowed as did Harry; they looked on in shock as the another white light flowed up to where the previous white and green light were, forcing the two apart. The green light shot through the air and disappeared, followed by the two white lights

In the graveyard, Voldemort kept screaming as all the green lights poured into him, followed by the two white ones; the pure love contained in those two lights, sent the Dark Lord into convulsions before the body exploded outwards, sending the two white lights back to their owners. The force of the explosion sent a white light outwards and the two Death Eaters were sent backwards, knocking them unconscious; all across Europe, the white light travelled touching every person that held the Mark of Voldemort, a skull and snake. The most loyal followers collapsed where they stood, the mark hovering over them, alerting the appropriate Wizarding Authorities to their locations, the ones that were true turncoats such as Severus Snape, would find the Mark disappearing from their arms as well as the effects the travesty had on their bodies and magic and the same thing would happen to those that were forced to take the Mark under the use of the Imperius Curse and Death Eaters like Lucius Malfoy, who deep down were more loyal to their family name than the Dark Lord, would find that their Marks did not disappear completely, but rather they faded.

Back at Hogwarts, everyone watched with baited breath as the two white lights return and disappeared back into their owners; once again, Draco and Harry’s body glowed for a few minutes before the glow disappeared. When it cleared, Draco lifted his head from Harry’s, watching as the green eyes fluttered open; the two exchanged a smile before collapsing in exhaustion. They were rushed to the Hospital Wing.

~...~

The two boys were unconscious for two days and didn’t wake until the third day, completely unaware of what happened during the last few days. Draco was the first to wake.

“Oh my head,” Draco moaned as his eyes fluttered.

“Draco,” Snape moved towards the bedside of his student. “That’s it, open your eyes.”

“Sev,” Draco looked at the man who he called his Head of House and Godfather. “What happened?”

“You’re in the hospital wing,” Snape answered. “You have been here the last three days.”

“The hospital wing?” Draco questioned.

“What do you remember?” Snape asked.

Draco was silent as he brows furrowed as he tried to recalled the events; suddenly his eyes opened wide as he shot up in bed. “Harry!”

“Mr. Potter is ok,” Snape said as he gestured to where Harry lay, curled onto his side facing Draco.

“Help me up please,” Draco said and with a sigh, Snape helped him towards Harry’s bed where he gently moved the Gryffindor as he crawled in, ignoring the looks he was getting from everyone else. “Harry...I need you to wake up.”

Harry groaned as he shifted against Draco’s side; he felt the touch to his forehead and he smiled before he slowly opened his eyes.

“Hi,” he said when he saw the concerned grey eyes of his boyfriend looking back at him.

“Hi,” Draco smiled before pressing a quick kiss to Harry’s lips. “Do you remember what happened?”

“No,” Harry’s eyes held slight confusion. “What happened?” he looked around, noticing that he was in the hospital wing and the people that stood around his bed; the Weasleys, the Malfoys, Remus Lupin, Neville, Hermione and to his shock and surprise, his godfather, Sirius Black.

“Sirius?” Harry questioned. “I don’t understand, what are you doing here? How are you here?”

“I’m free pup,” Sirius bounded over to the bedside. “I’m no longer a wanted criminal; my name was cleared by the Ministry.”

“Wh-How?” Harry asked as he looked at his godfather before deciding to sit up on the bed, Draco following him, allowing Harry to lean back against his chest.

“It seems dear boy,” Dumbledore spoke up, “that Peter Pettigrew has been found, thus requiring the Ministry to finally give Sirius the trial he deserved and clearing his name.”

“But how did this happen?” Harry asked as he looked around. “How did they find Pettigrew?”

“Three days ago at the conclusion of the Tri-Wizard tournament,” Dumbledore explained, “something remarkable happened; while you were sitting with young Mr. Malfoy, your scar erupted into pain. That was followed by a white and green light escaping your forehead before Mr. Malfoy kissed you causing another white light to emerge. The three lights disappeared into the sky before the two white lights returned a short time later.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Draco raised an eyebrow.

“I’m getting there,” Dumbledore chided. “A bright white light swept across the nation and a strange thing happened; Dark Marks started appearing in the skies all over Europe. When the Aurors were dispatched to investigate, they found Death Eaters on the ground unconscious. A magical explosion was recorded at Little Hangleton and Aurors hurried to the scene. There, they found two Death Eaters that were by all accounts, supposed to be dead; Peter Pettigrew and Barty Crouch Jr.”

“What?” Harry and Draco’s eyes went wide at the information.

“Both were given Veritaserum where they divulged everything,” Dumbledore informed them. “Apparently, it was Barty, who was Polyjuiced as Alastor Moody, was the one to place your name into the Goblet; he needed you in the tournament, where he would’ve kidnapped you in the maze by a portkey, which subsequently was the cup. He would’ve then used your blood in a ritual to bring Voldemort back to a body, however, since you had refused to participate, his plans were abandoned and he used his own blood. The results were not what anyone suspected.”

“So the lights coming from Harry?” Draco asked.

“Souls,” Dumbledore revealed to the astonishment of the group; no one had heard that part.

“What?” Sirius looked at Dumbledore.

“It was found out that Voldemort created what are called Horcruxes,” at the name, the adults flinched in horror.

“Merlin and Morgana,” Lucius breathed.

“That’s how he survived,” Snape concluded.

“Could someone explain to those of us in the dark?” Neville said.

“When a Horcrux is created,” Snape explained, “it is done so by murder and involves the splitting of one’s soul. It is a very dark and dangerous thing to do. The torn parts of the soul are then placed in an object with a spell, thus allowing the creator to have a way of never dying.” At the confused looks on the teens, he continued. “With the soul in an object, the creator is still grounded to this plane as a part of their soul is still here, tied to a specific object. Even if you were to kill the creator, in this case the Dark Lord, the remains of the main soul would flee but would still be here due to the Horcruxes.”

“Oh my God,” Hermione’s hands flew to her mouth.

“Coming in contact with a Horcrux will allow the piece of soul to slowly gain control over you until you die and the soul gains a body,” Snape continued. “It would then seek out the main soul, joining them again. The same thing would happen every time one of the objects or the main body is killed.”

Ginny went pale as she thought on her first year. “The diary...that was a Horcrux wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Snape as well as Dumbledore nodded.

“You are very lucky Harry found you when he did,” Dumbledore continued.

“You still haven’t explained anything,” Draco interrupted.

“It seems Potter’s scar was also a Horcrux,” Snape said to the horrified audience. “From what we gathered, with the failed ritual, the Dark Lord began pulling his Horcruxes towards him, including the one in Potter’s scar. The soul did not want to leave and fought to stay; Potter’s own soul tried to fight the intrusion and when you...kissed him, yours joined in and was able to send the soul towards the Dark Lord.

“Both souls followed and I would deduce that they entered the Dark Lord; the pure emotions were too much and he was destroyed from the inside out, sending a wave of power across Europe, touching every follower he had.”

“What happened then?” Hermione asked.

“I do not fully know,” Snape answered.

“Every Death Eater was incapacitated,” Dumbledore picked up. “However, due to the nature of their loyalty, it was different. For Severus, as well as followers who it turned out had been Imperiused to take the Mark, he found the mark on his arm completely eradicated, Lucius found his had faded while the true loyal ones were rendered unconscious, their power levels drained to a dangerously low level.”

“So he’s gone?” Harry questioned.

“Yes,” Dumbledore nodded. “Lord Voldemort is no more.”

Harry’s eyes lit up and he turned to throw his arms around Draco’s neck, pulling the blond into a kiss.

“It’s over,” Draco whispered against Harry’s lips before kissing him once more.

“Harry?” the two drew back to look at Ron and Hermione.

“I forgive you,” Harry said, to their relief, which they lost a moment later at his next words, “but I’ll never be able to trust you again. You betrayed me and I will not forget that. So while you have my forgiveness, you do not have my friendship...at least, not yet.”

“We understand,” Hermione nodded as her eyes filled with tears.

“So,” Harry turned to look at his godfather. “Does this mean I get to go home with you this summer and not back to the Dursleys?”

“Of course it does,” Sirius laughed.

“Good,” Harry smiled before settling back into Draco’s arms. “I’m glad.”

Epilogue

With Voldemort gone, the Wizarding World slowly came out of the shell it had burrowed into; to prevent another Dark Lord, laws were either changed, adjusted or completely abolished, bettering the bridge between Wizards and creatures such as Goblins, Werewolves, Elves and so forth.

The remaining three years were quiet with the infamous Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry dissolved; after all, the two princes were dating each other. The rivalry was kept only to the Quidditch Pitch. The teens graduated from Hogwarts with high marks and having enough of bad guys, Harry decided to be a Healer, while Draco became a Potions Master, following in his godfather’s footsteps; Neville became a Master in Herbology and took over for Pomona Sprout five years after graduating.

The years passed and before they knew it, they were once again standing on the platform waiting for the Hogwarts express; this time, it was their kids turn.

Harry and Draco stood with their eleven year old twins, James Sirius and Scorpius Draconian Malfoy-Potter and their nine and six year old daughters Lily Rose and Elizabeth Narcissa; two years before the twins were born, Severus Snape, with the help of Draco, had created a potion that allowed male wizards to bear children. Draco had carried the twins, while Harry carried Lily Rose and Draco carried Liz and unbeknownst to Draco, Harry was pregnant once again with their fifth child.

Neville had married Luna, and the pair had three kids; an eleven year old son named Zane, a seven year old daughter named Lila Rae and five year old Bethany Joy.

Ron and Hermione had gotten married and had five kids; eleven year old Hugo, nine year old Rosslyn, seven year old twins Donovan and Jennifer and five year old Matthew.

“Can you believe it’s been nineteen years since we graduated?” Draco asked as he stood next to his husband.

“I know,” Harry nodded as he shifted Lily Rose in his arms.

“Things sure have changed,” Neville remarked as he held onto Lila Rae while Luna held Bethany Joy in her arms.

“I’ll say,” Hermione smiled down at Donny and Jenny.

“But it was for the better so I don’t worry about it,” Ron shrugged as much as he could with Matt in his arms.

“Too true,” Luna chuckled. “The train is here.”

“Boys,” Harry looked down at his sons. “Behave, I do not want to hear about any mishaps concerning you two.”

“We will dad,” James, or Jamie as he liked to be called, rolled his eyes. When he was sure his daddy wasn’t looking, he whispered to his brother. “Besides, uncle Siri said he’d make sure we didn’t get caught.”

Scorpius nodded with a smirk, transforming it into a smile when he saw his papa looking at him.

“You got that from your daddy,” Draco mock scowled, delighting in the giggles he pulled from his sons.

“Now remember kids,” Ron said, “make sure you get better grades than everyone, but don’t be a bookworm like your mum and Aunt Hermione.”

“Ronald!” Hermione scolded as she freed a hand to smack him.

“Sorry,” Ron grinned.

“We better go,” Zane smiled up at his parents, his pale blue eyes sparkling.

“Be good,” Luna said, “though I suspect you’ll have to seeing as how your daddy is a teacher.”

“Mum, don’t remind me,” Zane rolled his eyes before he started walking away, Jamie, Scorpius and Hugo in tow.

“Bye guys,” Harry waved to the kids with one hand, smiling when they waved back.

“Home daddy?” Liz asked.

“Yes,” Harry nodded, his eyes still trained on his sons and their friends. When they boarded the train, he turned to the others.

“They’ll be fine,” Draco murmured. “They have Nev, Sirius, Remus and Severus to look after them.” When the potions master had learned that Hogwarts would have Potters, Weasleys and Longbottoms attending at the same time, he was quick to draw up his resignation stating that he had already dealt with their parents, he had no need to deal with their spawns; Sirius and Remus had convinced him to stay.

“I know,” Harry smiled at him.

“You alright?” Ron asked.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, “just missing them already.”

“Let’s go,” Luna said as she kissed Neville and watched him board the train; he had opted to ride with the students.

“Everything’s great,” Harry murmured as the train pulled out the station; as they turned to walk away, his hand drifted up to where his infamous scar lay; it hadn’t disappeared the night Voldemort died, instead, it had faded until it was barely noticeable. He rubbed it once, before dropping his arm and looking at his husband; the man who had defended him when his name came out of the Goblet back in their fourth year. If it wasn’t for that unexpected reaction, he had no idea how his life would be like today, but he knew it wouldn’t be as complete and perfect as it was now...

The End

A/N 2: how did you guys like it? Read and review and let me know what thought of this little one-shot.
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