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The Silver Quill	By : Queenie_Mab Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 2634 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Based on characters and situations from Harry Potter, created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including Bloomsbury, Scholastic and Raincoast, and Warner Bros. No money is being made and no copyright infringement is intended

Chapter List
- 1-The Silver Quill
- 1
A/N: I have received a distressing review here and want to address it immediately. I stand by the fact that I wrote this story myself and I have proof as it was originally posted for the Harry Draco Glompfest on the Livejournal community serpentinelion in September of 2010. The link to the original posting is here: http://serpentinelion.livejournal.com/235441.html#comments .. it is also archived on the Hex Files, AO3, and Storywrite.com under the names Queenie_Mab and Queen Mab. If you find the story posted elsewhere under a different name, please let me know and send me a link in the reviews box. Thank you.

Harry and Ron rummaged through Kreacher's old den in the basement of 12 Grimmauld Place. It was their final term of Auror training at the MLE University, and Harry hoped to get the house into shape enough to live in later that summer.

"Here's another picture of the hag," Ron said, pulling a curling black and white photo of Sirius' mum out from under Kreacher's lumpy bed of rags.

"Put it in the burn pile," said Harry. "Ouch."

He pulled his hand out of the dark hole to find his finger bleeding. "Wonder what did that?" he asked, and lit his wand to see in the dark behind the cabinet. He pulled out an ornate silver quill and looked it over. "This looks kinda cool. What d'ya think, Ron? Toss it or keep it?"

Ron pulled his arm out from the dark space and held the heavily jewel-encrusted silver base. "It's probably worth a fortune. Put it in the 'maybe' pile."

He set the base down next to the quill and a set of diamond cufflinks. He looked at Harry thoughtfully. "You doin' anything tonight?" he asked. "Pansy's driving me spare, and I could use a night out."

Harry chuckled and delved back into the pile of rags. "I still can't believe you hooked up with a Slytherin."

Ron rubbed the back of his neck absently and played with his shoelace. "Yeah, I know. She's really not that bad. I wouldn't have married her had she been."

Harry pulled back and sat on his heels. "Really not that bad? Spoken like a man desperately in love."

Ron let go of his shoelace and glared at Harry. "Bugger off. So, you want to go out later and get pissed?"

Harry wiped his forehead with the back of his soot-stained forearm, leaving a streak. "It's Sunday. Malfoy's probably going to bring home a film, and we have lessons in the morning."

Ron screwed up his face. "Harry, we hardly ever have fun any more. I still can't believe Robards was such an arse as to pair you with Malfoy. How do you stand it?"

Harry grinned crookedly at Ron. "He's really not that bad."

"Oh, ha ha!" said Ron. "Is he still seeing that Irish bloke?"

Harry wiped his hands on his dirt-caked jeans and stood up. "No, and it's annoying to have to listen to him moan about it all the time. I think we've done enough work for today. Just this and the next room over left, and I'll be ready to move in after graduation."

"Right," Ron said, standing up. "I'd better get going then. If you don't want to go out, there may still be time enough for me to ask Seamus."

Harry picked up the silver quill and its base, and put it in his bag. "I think I'll keep this," he said. "It'll make Malfoy jealous. I bet he'll go out and buy an even fancier one to show me up."

Ron shook his head. "Whatever."

~*~

Later that evening, Harry sat at the desk in the small dorm that he shared with Draco. The lounge was just big enough to hold a long, ratty sofa, the desk, a Muggle telly, and a small table with two chairs. There was a kitchenette on the far wall. The only other rooms to the place were the toilet, and a small bedroom with twin beds on either wall, separated by a bedside table and lamp. A tall wardrobe stood beside the door on one side, and a small closet was squeezed into the wall on the other side.

Harry rubbed his fingers through his hair, making his already messy black locks messier. He was frustratedly writing up a profile for a wanted Death Eater for class, and he needed to be done soon.

A muffled bump came from the closed front door. Harry looked up in time to see Draco enter, dusting the snow from his hat. "Honestly, what is with the weather?" Draco asked, hanging up his cloak on one of two pegs in the wall. "It's March and it's snowing. What are you up to?"

Harry had gone back to his report and scribbled another sentence. "Work."

Draco squeezed past the sofa and dropped a Muggle DVD on top of Harry's paper.

Harry lifted his quill and looked at the box. "Hard and Heavy?" he asked in amusement.

"Well, the bloke on the left there is your type. I thought you'd like it."

Harry picked up the box and studied the cover. It was adorned with two attractive, and very naked, men. The one on the left was lithe and blond with a pointed face. Harry glanced back up at Draco. "That man is your doppelganger," he said. "Are you saying that you're my type?"

Draco snatched the box back. "I'm every man's dream, Potter. Hurry up and finish. I'm going to change and put it in."

"All right," Harry said, dipping his quill into the ink jar.

"Where did you get that quill?" Draco asked suddenly.

"Hmm?" asked Harry. He looked down at the silver quill he had salvaged earlier that day. "Like it? I found it while Ron and I were cleaning up Grimmauld Place."

Draco frowned. "It looks too fancy in your hand, but yes, it's very nice."

Harry watched Draco retreat to the bedroom, and put the final point on the end of his report. "Done." He turned the quill over a few times, admiring the level of detail worked into the plume. He put it back in its base and stood up, stretching his arms over his head. He unbuttoned his jeans and stepped out of them, leaving them in a pile next to the desk, and scratched at the trail of black hair leading from his navel to beneath the elastic on his plaid cotton boxer shorts. He sat down on the sofa in front of the telly and waited for Draco.

Draco came out moments later, and tripped over Harry's jeans. He didn't say anything, but he did pick them up, fold them, and set them on the desk before putting the disc into the player, and turning on the telly. He was dressed in a shiny silver silk dressing gown, tied round his narrow waist with its sash.

Harry looked over to him as he sat down. "Do you want me to make popcorn?"

Draco cocked a pale blond eyebrow at him. "No. I don't eat popcorn while I watch porn; you know that."

Harry grinned sheepishly, and readjusted himself as the movie began. He was keenly aware of Draco rubbing his cock with the silky material of his gown, while onscreen, the blond-haired man was welcoming a plumber into his house to supposedly fix his dishwasher.

The beginning of the film went fast, and in no time at all, the plumber had the blond bent over the dining table and was eating his arse.

Harry felt his cock swell beneath his hand, and pulled his boxers down to his ankles, exposing his erection to the cool of the air. His cock jumped when he heard Draco's sharp intake of breath as the camera moved in to show the rim job close up.

Watching the tongue thrust in deep, and listening to the sounds of the blond's obvious enjoyment sent Harry into a frenzy of strokes. He toyed with the head of his penis, milking a drop of pre-come from the tip. He spread it down his shaft, cupping his heavy bollocks with his other hand, and let his hand fly.

He chanced a glance at Draco sitting beside him, and found himself looking into stormy-grey eyes. His breath hitched, and he watched Draco's eyes as they followed the movements of his hand. Draco's dressing gown lay open, and Harry let his eyes wander, watching, enraptured as Draco pumped himself with his fist.

His mouth began to salivate as he watched the head of Draco's cock disappear under the foreskin, and pop back out with each stroke. Draco's cock was wet and leaking, and Harry realised he was holding his breath. He bit at his bottom lip watching Draco's hips come off the cushion as he arched backwards, head thrown back, resting on the back of the sofa. White, milky come poured through Draco's fingers, coating his hand, and Harry couldn't hold back any longer. He let out a ragged breath and met Draco's eyes once more, coming into his hand, creaming his fingers, and dripping into the nest of tight black curls at the base of his cock.

He and Draco stared at each other in disbelief. Harry wanted to lean over to kiss him, but restrained himself. The sound of slapping flesh filled the room, and they both looked back to the telly to see the plumber plumbing the blond man.

Harry felt around his seat cushion searching for his wand, while Draco syphoned his come up. Finally, Harry cast a Cleaning Charm over his mess wandlessly, and slipped back into his boxers. Draco was the only person that knew that Harry no longer needed a wand (a secret Harry was finding hard to keep). He'd had to Obliviate Ron earlier that day when he had walked into the drawing room at Grimmauld Place, while Harry was directing an orchestra of cleaning rags and brooms wandlessly.

He stood up, not saying anything to Draco, and took himself to the bathroom for a shower. The hot water streamed down the hills and valleys of his back as he attempted to wash the attraction he had to Draco off with scalding water. It would never work. Harry's magic had grown stronger than even Draco knew, and occasionally it would erupt wildly out of his control. He didn't want anybody to get too close to him. He was dangerous.

~*~

It was dark in the Hog's Head. Harry hid his face beneath his cowl and studied the patterns of light the candle on his table sent through his glass. He was hiding, but for the life of him couldn't remember why.

A long low growl made its way to his consciousness, through his alcohol-logged brain. He could feel hot breath on his neck, even though it was covered. He went rigid and looked around, panicking. He spotted the source of the growl just outside the window he sat behind. It was a large, black, shadowy-looking dog with piercing white eyes.

The Grim. The name sprang to his mind and he was out of his chair in a flash. He turned on the spot and Disapparated.

Harry looked around to get his bearings. The small hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and sweat began to trickle down his face. His breath came out like puffs of smoke, and he looked to his right to find himself at the front gates to Malfoy Manor.

He wondered why he'd ended up there. He certainly hadn't been thinking of it when he fled. He put his hands on his thighs, and bent forwards, breathing heavily. A low rumble broke the quiet of the night, and he lifted his head to see the white eyes of the Grim practically glowing in the dark just beyond the gate.

He stumbled backwards, his hood slipping off as the dog took deliberate steps towards him. It was at the gate now, and he watched, horrified, as it moved through the bars as if they weren't there. Its body was large and black, fur glistening against the backdrop of the snowy ground. Harry felt his voice leave him, and quickly turned on the spot, vanishing into the night once more.

When he opened his eyes, he was aware of only one thing: pain. His hand screamed and throbbed in a regular beat. He looked down at it to find that he'd splinched his middle finger on his right hand, and it bled copiously from the hole where the finger had been. He grabbed his hand and brought it up tightly against his chest, squeezing his wrist with the other hand.

He looked around. He was standing in a barnyard. The large barn's roof was white with a fresh layer of snow. Its door was propped open with a cement block. He shivered and shook with the stabbing pain from his hand, and the crushing cold in his lungs from inhaling too deep, too fast. He made a split-second decision, and ran for the open door of the barn.

It was warm inside. Some wizard must have kept a Warming Charm over the place. At the back of the barn, a shelf jutted forward from the wall with nesting chickens sitting on top. They gave Harry curious looks, cocking their heads at him, but remained quiet. Several farming implements also lay here and there along the shelf.

He looked around to see if he could find a rag for his hand, when he heard it again. The low rumbling growl of the Grim. He stood, frozen in fear, staring out the barn door as the spectral dog advanced. He was without a wand, but the pain and the fear were too great for him to even think of using one. He stepped backward jerkily, as the Grim came closer, baring its teeth. It reared its hind legs and attacked, throwing Harry back, into the shelf, and moved through him, disappearing like smoke.

Harry had squeezed his eyes tightly shut, and when he opened them, feathers were floating from every which way, and the disturbed chickens were clucking angrily at him. He looked for the Grim and then down. His mouth dropped open and blood spilled down his front. The tines of a pitch-fork poked through his chest, and his shirt clung to his body wet with blood. He couldn't scream, couldn't move. He shut his eyes tight once again, praying that death would be quick to find him, and then everything went bleary.

He opened and closed his eyes a few times, finally resting his gaze upward at a blurred face above him. He tried to speak, but found himself unable to move. His eyes raced wildly, and in a burst of wild magic, he threw his arms outwards as if he were pushing against a heavy wall.

"Potter," a voice floated down through his buzzing ears.

He took a large gulping breath, and felt the heaviness leave him. He squinted up at the blurry head above him. "Malfoy?" he rasped.

"Thank Merlin you're all right," Draco said anxiously. "You were having a fit. I had to put you in a Body-Bind."

It had only been a dream. He could almost taste the blood in his mouth still. It had felt so real. He realised his head rested in Draco's lap, lying atop the silky material of his dressing gown. He grunted as he sat up.

Draco handed him his glasses and looked over at him worriedly. They sat side by side on the edge of Harry's bed.

Harry felt his body break out in goosebumps as his perspiration met the cool air. He shivered. "It was only a dream," he said aloud, trying to convince himself that what he spoke was true.

~*~

The next morning, Harry awoke to the smell of ham and eggs filling the small dormitory. He figured Draco must already be up. He opened his eyes and reached for his glasses on the bedside table. He slipped them onto his face and the room came into focus. His mind came to focus at the same time, remembering, not the nightmare, but the fact that he and Draco had come watching each other instead of the porno.

He felt his body flush warm and was instantly hard. It was incredibly inconvenient to be feeling aroused by Draco. Draco was fresh out of a relationship, and therefore vulnerable, and Harry was convinced that until he had a handle on his magic, he wouldn't seek a relationship, but God, Draco looked hot when he came.

He wondered if he had time for a quick wank, but his thoughts were interrupted by Draco, standing at the door to the bedroom with a pan of breakfast in his hand.

"Oi, Potter. Breakfast is ready," he said, then disappeared into the other room.

Harry palmed his cock, trying to relieve the pressure. He sat up in bed, and then climbed out from beneath the warm sheets. He dressed, ignoring the persistent throb of arousal, and joined Draco at the small table in the main room.

Draco had finished his plate and was reading the Daily Prophet. Harry didn't say anything as he tucked into his plate of food. He felt tension in the air between them. It did nothing to stave off his arousal.

"Looks like the Harpies are in first place so far this season," Draco said, casually turning the page.

"Mmm," Harry hummed, his mouth full.

Draco put the paper down on the table, and gave Harry a deliberate look. Harry was staring at his plate and could feel Draco's eyes on him. He looked up. "What?"

"Do you want to talk about it?" Draco asked.

Harry most certainly did not want to talk about what they had done yesterday evening. "No," Harry said, and shovelled another forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth.

"If you don't face up to these dreams, Potter, you're going to drive yourself spare. You need to keep your wits about you if you hope to pass the aptitude test on Friday."

Harry felt himself relax. Draco only wanted to talk about his nightmare, nothing more. He was probably in full agreement that the previous evening had been an accident, and they had an unspoken agreement not to acknowledge it had happened.

"I'll be all right," he insisted. He took a gulp of pumpkin juice and finished the remaining eggs on his plate.

Draco was studying him. "About last night," he said. "I'm not sorry it happened."

So much for unspoken agreements.

"It was a mistake," Harry said quickly. He stood up and took his dishes to the sink.

Draco sighed behind him. "It figures you would say that. I don't know why I even bother trying to talk to you."

Guilt gnawed at Harry's stomach. He refused to turn around. He washed his plate and juice glass by hand, and set them in the rack on the counter to dry. When he had finished, he turned back around, but Draco had left. His cloak and hat were missing from their peg on the wall. Harry rubbed his eyes with his fingers beneath his glasses, trying to stave off a headache.

~*~

Harry Apparated into the Atrium at the Ministry of Magic. He made his way to the lift, and ran into Ron. "Hey," Harry said as he and Ron waited for the lift to reach their floor.

"My head is killing me," Ron complained.

Harry chuckled. "So Seamus was willing to go out last night, I take it?"

"Yes, but that's not why I have a headache. Pansy told me off this morning for coming home late, and now I've got to spend the day with Ginny (who Pansy Flooed this morning to tell on me). I hate having to partner with my sister."

"Well, it's done alphabetically, so you're stuck, but at least Gin's a decent partner. She's really talented."

"Yeah, I know, I know. She makes me look bad in comparison. Where's ferret-face?" Ron asked as they stepped into the lift.

Harry felt his stomach churn with guilt. "No idea," he answered dully.

The lift arrived at the second floor, and he and Ron made their way through the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to the classroom behind the main office.

Harry and Ron took their places, each at one of six tables. Ginny was already present, and the rest of the students trickled in a few minutes before the bell. Draco didn't come.

When Gumboil entered the classroom to begin the lesson in Stealth and Tracking, Harry sat at the table alone, feeling conspicuous by the absence of his partner. He pulled his Death Eater profile report out of his bag and set it on the table top, ready to hand it in.

~*~

"Draco, you can't just miss Auror training," Pansy said, when she answered the door to the small house she shared with Ron. "What's the emergency?"

She let him move past her so she could shut the door. Draco dropped to the sofa and put his face in his hands.

"It's Potter, of course," he snapped. He lifted his face and pulled the winter hat off his head savagely.

Pansy took a seat beside him and patted him on the knee.

"What has Wonder-Boy done this time?"

"Well," Draco started. He closed his mouth and pursed his lips. Then he sighed and closed his mouth again. He stared at the floor.

"Draco, I can't read your mind. If you want to talk about it, you're going to have to talk."

"I know that, silly bint. I'm just trying to think of how to put it delicately."

Pansy folded her arms across her chest, and leaned against the back of the sofa, waiting for Draco to string his thoughts together.

"Yesterday was Sunday," Draco said as if it explained everything.

"Yes, darling, I know. Oh, you mean porno night!" She put her hands on her knees and scooted forward on the cushion, ready for some juicy gossip.

"Yeah," Draco said, then he looked at her with a serious expression. "Weasley doesn't know about Sundays, does he?"

Pansy smiled. "Not from me he doesn't, and I doubt Potter would talk with him about it. Ron is a bit homophobic. He's still trying to think of a way to get Potter and his sister together. He's in complete denial."

"Right," Draco said. "I still don't know how you put up with all those freckles." He shuddered.

"I think we were talking about you, Potter, and porn, not my husband," Pansy said, her tone clipped.

"All right, I'll just say it," said Draco. "We got off watching each other."

Pansy lifted a heavily-pencilled brow. "And?"

Draco looked at her desperately. "And! And we didn't watch the film."

"And?" Pansy prodded.

Draco threw up his hands in exasperation. "So this morning I tried to talk to him about it. I felt some real chemistry last night, and I know he did as well, but he said it was a mistake, and then ignored me."

Pansy hummed. "Draco, you know Potter is damaged goods, right? He's not been in a real relationship his entire life and can you blame him? I don't think he really knows what affection feels like. I mean, yeah, he has a lot of people who care about him, but he's lost practically all of his mentors, and blames himself. He's probably afraid that he'll lose whoever he gets close to, which is why he just doesn't let himself get attached."

Draco stared at her. "Since when are you a Potter expert?" he asked.

"Since I married his best friend and became a member of his family. What do you think Molly talks about while she's cooking and cleaning and socialising? Granger and Ginny are always talking about Potter's life too. And so are you. I pick up a good deal of information about him, thank you very much."

"I see your point," Draco said grudgingly. "I've lived with him for three bloody years though. We work together. We're totally compatible, it's just he won't let me in. I'm bloody frustrated."

"Well, you're not sending the message that you like him exclusively or that he's special when you're out dating other men all the time."

"I have needs," Draco said, defending himself. "If Potter would just grow up and admit that he's attracted to me, I wouldn't have to look elsewhere. Merlin. I close my eyes and pretend it's Potter I'm with whenever I'm with another man. I'm obsessed. I need the real thing. It's not fair!"

"Draco, maybe you should just give it up. After this term ends, you two will be Aurors and Potter plans to move into the old Black house."

"I know!" Draco whined. "I can't give it up though; it's in my blood. You know my bloody Patronus has even changed into a stag to match his? I love him."

Pansy ran her hand through Draco's hair in the way she knew he liked to be comforted. "Have you told Potter that you love him? Your actions certainly don't show it."

Draco batted her hand away. "What should I do then, huh? Cook him a splendid meal and buy champagne and red roses?"

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Potter's not a girl, Draco. I'd go with a bouquet of yellow roses instead."

"You're insufferable!" Draco huffed.

"And you're melodramatic," Pansy threw back. "There's nothing more on the subject I can say that I haven't already. Are you done with your tantrum and ready to go back to your class?"

Draco screwed up his face. "No, I want to go shopping. Maybe if I buy myself something, it will make me feel better."

"I'll get my purse," Pansy said, and swept out of the room.

~*~

Draco didn't show up all day to lessons. Harry was growing worried. He'd had to partner with Gumboil and attempt to hold his own in a defence practical.

Gumboil was impressed by his profile report though. He wished he could feel happy about it, but all he felt was the empty space where Draco belonged.

He trudged through the dirty snow-lined streets, opting to walk the block and a half from the Ministry to the dormitory. Ginny accompanied him since she lived in the same building with the only other woman in training, Susan Bones.

"So, Harry, what are your plans this evening?" she asked pleasantly, kicking the slushy snow with her yellow rubber boots.

"Gonna find out why Malfoy left me high and dry today," Harry said grumpily.

Ginny sighed. "Oh, I was hoping we could get a few people together for a quick game of Quidditch."

"Maybe later this week," Harry said, putting her off.

"What is it with you and Malfoy?" Ginny asked, curious. "You like him, don't you?" She pushed her elbow into his side.

"It doesn't matter," Harry said, pushing her away like he would a sibling.

"Sure it does," Ginny said. "You haven't got shagged in how long? You're stressed, he's available again, you like him, why not?"

"Gin, it's complicated, all right? Here we are." They stopped at the front door of the Muggle building which also housed students from a nearby Muggle university. They entered through the swinging glass doors and stood at the lift.

"Well, when it gets uncomplicated, be sure to tell me about it. I want details," she said, smirking.

They got into the lift and Harry left her when they reached the sixth floor. She was on the seventh.

He turned the key in the lock, and stepped through into his and Draco's small living space. Draco wasn't home. Harry shrugged off the Muggle coat he was wearing, and hung it on his peg, then kicked off his boots. He decided to get to work on another profile assignment, due later that week, while he waited for Draco to return.

Several hours passed and Harry opened his eyes when he heard the front door open. He had fallen asleep at the desk.

Draco shuffled into the room and dumped several large shopping bags onto the sofa.

"Where were you all day?" Harry asked, irritatedly looking at Draco's parcels.

Draco calmly removed his hat and cloak and hung them up. "Why do you want to know, Potter?" he asked bitterly. "It's not as if you care or anything."

"I bloody well do care!" Harry said, raising his voice. "I was left alone in class today, and I had to duel with Gumboil! Gumboil, the Hit Wizard!" he said with emphasis.

"Oh, right. You need me as a class partner. My mistake to think you actually missed me."

Harry smacked his head with the back of his hand. "Come on, Malfoy. What is your problem?" he asked, exasperated.

Draco turned to face him, eyes blazing. "I love you!" he spat, as if he had just delivered the worst insult he could think of.

"Well I… What?" Harry asked, stunned.

"Leave me alone," Draco said, and quickly locked himself in the bathroom.

Harry got up and pounded on the bathroom door. "Malfoy, open up. What do you mean you love me?"

"Potter, go away or I'll kill myself," Draco screamed.

"Draco, I'm not going away. Stop being so dramatic and open this door!" Harry shouted back, giving the door a smack.

"NO!" Draco shrieked. "I'm serious, Potter. Leave me the fuck alone!"

Harry ran his fingers through his messy mop of hair, tugging at it in frustration. Why would Draco say he loved him? His heart sped up at the thought. But he couldn't put Draco in danger any more than he already was. He'd be the target of the renegade Death Eaters if word ever got out that Harry was seeing him romantically.

Harry worried his bottom lip. What if Draco was serious about committing suicide? He couldn't stand the thought that he would have driven another person to their death, especially Draco.

"Please open the door," Harry pleaded. "Don't hurt yourself. I care. I care a lot. Come out and let's talk about this."

"You didn't want to talk about it this morning, Potter. I don't need your charity with your precious time."

"Draco Lucius Malfoy!" Harry called. "If you don't open this door right now, I'm going to fetch your mother!"

Draco didn't say anything. Harry wondered if he'd Disapparated from the bathroom. "Draco?" he called again.

The door unlocked and Draco opened it a crack. "Leave my mother out of this," he said quietly.

"I will, I promise, if you come out and talk to me," Harry said, stomach churning with worry and confusion.

Draco opened the door the rest of the way, and pushed past Harry to the bedroom. He sat on his bed, eyes swollen and red.

"Have you been crying?" Harry asked from the door.

Draco looked up at him angrily. "Going to rub my face in it, Potter?"

"No," Harry said. He walked over to his own bed and sat down facing Draco. "Talk to me, I'm listening."

Draco looked up at Harry, meeting his eyes. "Why did you say last night was a mistake? You felt it too; I know you did."

"Felt what?" Harry asked, unsure.

"The attraction," Draco spat. "We would be so good together. I—I just can't stand not being with you. I try to distract myself, to convince myself that I can get by without you, but it's all a lie. I can't live without you. I don't want to live if you're not in my life."

Harry was flabbergasted. He'd never seen Draco so needy. It was entirely endearing, and he felt his heart swell within his chest.

"Hey," he said, reaching out to touch Draco's knee. "You'll always be part of my life. We'll probably end up being partnered when we graduate to the field."

Draco knocked Harry's hand away. "That's not what I meant, Potter. Are you really so dense that you don't understand what I'm telling you?"

"No," Harry admitted. "I don't want to hurt you—"

"So, you're going to let me down easily; is that it? You want to tell me that you don't feel the same way about me as I do about you?"

"No," Harry said, frustrated. "It's not that at all. I like you, Draco. I really like you. But anybody that becomes involved with me will be a target as long as there are still Death Eaters out there. I don't want you to get hurt."

"Oh, I see," Draco said sarcastically. "You're being noble, sacrificing your needs and desires and others', in exchange for a safe life. What a load of rubbish. I'm going to become a fucking Auror just as much as you are. Are you saying I'm pathetic and unable to protect myself from a few Death Eaters?"

"No!" Harry shouted. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You're putting words in my mouth. That's not what I'm saying."

"Then what the fuck are you saying, Potter?"

Harry reached out and grabbed Draco by the wrist. He pulled hard so Draco went flying on top of him on his bed.

"What the fu—"

Harry pulled Draco's face down to his, and took his mouth in a kiss. Draco's lips didn't respond. Harry put his hands on either side of Draco's waist and flipped them over so he had Draco pinned to his bed. He straddled Draco's thighs, and looked down into Draco's pale eyes, which were opened wide. He brought his hands up to cup Draco's face, and kissed him again. He pressed his groin into Draco's, making Draco gasp. Harry took the opportunity to shove his tongue into Draco's mouth, and then they were really kissing. Draco closed his eyes and placed his hands on Harry's shoulders, giving in to the dominating kiss.

When they broke apart, both were red-faced and panting. "What was that?" Draco asked, dazed.

Harry pressed his groin against Draco's again, giving it a healthy grind. "This is how I really feel about you." He peppered Draco's neck with nips and little kisses, pulling a moan from Draco's throat.

"I want you, Draco. I want you so bad it hurts, but I'm afraid," Harry admitted.

"Have a little faith in me, Potter," Draco said, locking eyes with Harry. "I'm not going to break."

Three years' worth of built-up sexual tension unwound in Harry all at once. He was harder than he'd ever been, and looking down at Draco's flushed face, and his white-blond hair in a tangle against Harry's pillow, unleashed a powerful burst of magic. The electricity went out, came back on, and went out again. The doors of the wardrobe banged open and closed, the bed shook as if there was an earthquake, and his and Draco's clothes Vanished.

Harry felt his straining cock touch Draco's skin to skin, and he turned into an animal. He bit and sucked Draco's neck as if he were a vampire feasting on blood, causing Draco to call out in a strangled cry that spoke of pain and pleasure in its sound.

"Harry," Draco gasped, and wrapped his arms around Harry's back, holding onto the back of his head with one hand to encourage Harry to continue.

Once he had left a sizable mark on Draco's neck, he moved back to his lips, and drank deep from the fount of desire, pouring all of his lust, his need, into the kiss. Draco kissed back earnestly, as if trying to keep up with Harry's zeal.

Harry broke the kiss, and tore his glasses from his face, flinging them in the direction of the bedside table. He looked at Draco's plump and reddened lips, and felt as if he would come on the spot. Pleasure built in his belly, and the pressure on his cock wasn't enough.

"I want you," he rasped, then leaned in to snog Draco senseless once more. Draco pushed him back so their faces were inches apart.

"Take me," Draco pleaded, pale eyes half-closed, and pupils blown with desire. "I want you inside me, Harry."

Harry almost came again when Draco called him by his first name. He let his mouth lead the way, down Draco's front, to his leaking cock. He licked a stripe from the base of the shaft, up to the head, peeking out from beneath the foreskin. Harry pulled it down, and circled the purpling head of Draco's cock with his tongue, dipping into the slit, and repeating the action.

Draco mewled beneath him and shouted, "Fuck," when Harry began to roll his bollocks in his mouth.

Harry spread Draco open as far as his legs would move, and let a hand trail down the erect shaft to the centre of Draco's body. He lowered his head, fingers spreading Draco's arse open, and licked the perimeter of his rim. Draco tasted salty with a trace of an alluring musk, and Harry knew he had to have more.

He played with Draco's hole with the flat of his tongue, wetting him thoroughly, and then making pointed jabs directly inside. He plunged his tongue deep, and wriggled it around the walls of Draco's rim, feeling them relax beneath the strong muscle.

Draco grabbed Harry's hair, and pushed back against the intrusion, begging for more, deeper. He was sobbing with ecstasy, his body writhing beneath the talents of Harry's tongue.

Harry lifted a hand, and wordlessly Summoned a tube of flavoured lube. He flipped the cap open, and squeezed it into the curl of his tongue, spreading it in and around Draco's hole until he was a slobbery, slippery mess. But it was heaven. He dropped the lube on the floor and reluctantly left Draco's hole, sitting up and panting.

"Potter," Draco gasped. "If you don't do it soon, I'm going to come just thinking about what you just did."

"Call me Harry, and I won't make you wait."

Draco paused a moment, his eyes half-lidded. "Harry, would you please fuck me?"

Harry grinned, and wiped his face with his arm. He held onto Draco's legs from behind his knees, and lined himself up with Draco's entrance. He was actually doing this! Sex with Draco! Brilliant sex with…Draco.

His lust overflowed, and he pushed inside with a strong thrust, panting heavily once he was there, trying desperately to hold onto his sanity. He wanted to remember this exchange for the rest of his life.

Draco nodded down at him, and Harry began to move, slow and deliberate, trying different angles until he found the spot that made Draco squeal like a happy child. "There?" he asked, his voice coming huskier than he had intended.

"YES!" Draco screamed, and Harry obliged, filling his thrusts with magic that was tangible. He positively glowed.

Harry leaned down to take Draco's lips once more, bending him nearly in half, but Draco didn't seem to mind his contortionist act. He was snogging back as if his life depended on it.

It didn't take long: soon Draco was stiffening, and calling out as he came, throwing his head back and clenching his muscles. His face was red from exertion, and his short cropped blond hair stuck to his face and neck wet with perspiration.

Harry shuddered as he watched Draco come, emptying himself in undeniably the wildest, hottest, heart-stopping orgasm he had ever experienced. His body was covered in a sheen of sweat, slippery and sticky. He let Draco's legs down, and fell on top of him, snuggling his face against the angry red mark he had left on Draco's neck.

Their hearts beat as one, and they matched breath for breath. Harry felt himself slip out along with a stream of semen. He brought his hand up to Draco's chest and toyed with a nipple, making it stand erect.

"Heavy," Draco grunted beneath him.

Harry only had enough energy left in him to allow gravity to pull him off, so he was lying on his side, curled around Draco's body. In no time at all they were asleep.

~*~

Harry walked the dark streets of London. He was dressed in black robes once again, and wearing his hood to hide his face. He was on his way to a meeting. He knew the meeting had to do with Draco. He hadn't a clue why he was going or what its objective was, but he knew he had to hurry.

A low growl rumbled down an alley he was passing, causing him to stop in his tracks. It couldn't be the Grim, not again! He pointed his lit wand-tip down the darkened street, and met a pair of glowing white eyes. The growl came again, and he knew he was its target. He turned and Disapparated to another part of the city.

He was in the concrete stairwell of a car park, and the growl came again from below, echoing off the cold walls. He began to run, taking the stairs two at a time, climbing the circular stairwell until he was dizzy, but the sound of claws grating the cement, and the heavy breathing of the beast below spurned him onward.

He arrived at the top and had nowhere to run. The spectral dog appeared in the archway of the stairwell, and began to advance on him. He found himself backed against the short wall of the roof. The dog leapt at him, disappearing in a cloud of black as he was knocked off the edge of the tall structure.

Harry opened his eyes wide, seeing only white, until he heard his name being called as if through water. His vision returned, and he found himself cold and shivering, naked and sticky, being rocked by Draco.

"Harry? Are you with me?"

"Huh?" Harry managed. His insides felt like they had crept up into his throat, and he felt the urge to vomit.

He held onto Draco's warm, pale body, fighting his stomach and coming back to reality.

"Another dream?" Draco asked.

"Yeah," Harry exhaled.

"Can you stand?" Draco asked.

"I dunno. I just don't know."

"Well, let me help you up. We'll have a shower, and get you warmed up. You had a fit in your sleep. This time you threw off the Body-Bind as soon as I cast it." Draco's voice had a nervous lilt to it, and it made Harry's heart sink. This was what he was afraid of: scaring Draco with the magnitude of his power. He had to hide it. No one could know how strong he was becoming. He knew Hermione's attitude on how absolute power corrupts absolutely, and he refused to let it happen.

"Obliviate!" The word was out of his mouth before he could think. Draco's eyes went out of focus, and then slowly returned.

"I'm sorry, I spaced out for a moment there. What were we doing?"

Harry buried his guilt, reassuring himself that he had done the right thing. He put on a flirtatious smile. "We were about to have a shower," he said, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

"Ah, yes," Draco said, smiling. "That's exactly what we need."

Draco jumped out of bed, and Harry followed, chasing him into the bathroom where Draco let out a shriek when Harry dropped to his knees behind him, and began to lick his stretched, come-filled hole with relish.

After a hot shower which included a crazy bout of shower-sex, Harry and Draco fell to sleep on Draco's bed for the last couple of hours before lessons that morning.

When they awoke, Harry was warm and comfortable. He never wanted to sleep alone again. Draco's skin was soft and smooth, and his body curled perfectly around Harry's back in a spooning position. They were made to fit each other.

"Potter," Draco whispered in Harry's ear.

"Hmm?"

"Was last night a mistake?"

Harry chortled. "Absolutely not," he said with confidence.

They were running late for training. Harry hopped around on one foot, searching for his other trainer, which somehow ended up behind the bedside table. Now he only needed to find his wand and his glasses.

Draco was dressed, and calmly sat on his bed watching Harry with an amused expression.

"Potter?" he said. "I swear, sometimes you forget you're a wizard." He lifted his wand, "Accio glasses, Accio wand." The items sped into Draco's open hand, and he handed them over to Harry.

They Apparated to the Atrium at the Ministry of Magic, and made it to the classroom with two minutes to spare.

To their surprise, Gawain Robards, head of the department, took over the class for a lesson. He stood at the front of the room, dressed in his scarlet Auror robes, his bald head glistening beneath the gas lanterns which adorned the walls.

"Trainees," he addressed them, striding across the room to Seamus Finnigan and Dennis Creevey's table. He pulled the note Seamus was writing from beneath his quill, causing Seamus to look up, noticing him for the first time. He crumpled the note without reading it, and tossed it over his shoulder where it landed in the rubbish bin. "I have some disturbing news that I must share with you, as several of your number will be graduating after this term."

He paused, gauging their reactions. The class sat still and stared up at him, engrossed. He cleared his throat and clasped his hands behind his back. He walked to the podium and stood behind it, now resting his arms on top.

"There very well may be a killer out there targeting known renegade Death Eaters. As you all know, I promote justice above all else. While many celebrate the passing of such persons, it is our job to capture them and bring them to justice, perhaps landing them in Azkaban for life, but we do not practise the death penalty."

He remained silent for a moment, letting his words sink in. "A Death Eater, by the name of Mulciber, was found dead in a wizarding farmer's barn. His death is deemed to be a murder because of its grotesque nature. He was run though backwards with a pitchfork, and left to rot, standing upright. We have seasoned Aurors on the scene, but it may likely fall to some of you to help catch the culprit. The reason I am inclined to believe that this may be the work of a serial killer is that the body of Rodolphus Lestrange was found in Muggle London this morning. The Please-men have deemed it a suicide, for it appears that he fell to his death from the top of a large building. We know for a fact that Lestrange survived years in Azkaban, and returned to the Dark Lord during the infamous prison break. There is nothing in his profile that would make suicide seem likely. It has been determined that these Death Eaters were killed one day apart after having practically disappeared from the wizarding world three years ago."

Harry paled. He had written profiles for each of these men on the days of their deaths, and he had witnessed them being killed by the Grim in the exact way Robards had described. He wanted to tell the Head Auror what he knew, but was reluctant to draw attention to himself. There were those in the Ministry that had chided Shacklebolt for promoting Harry and Ron to the station of Aurors without having completed their NEWTs. It was why Ron and Harry had decided to do an eighth year at Hogwarts, along with many of their friends, and to go through Auror training with the other trainees.

The Ministry hadn't understood when Harry had had visions in the past. He had been victimised for it, and it was made a public scandal. Harry chewed on his lower lip while Robards continued to speak, half-listening. No, he decided he'd monitor his dreams for anything further that may be considered a vision, and he'd handle it himself. He'd done it in the past. He'd solved a case the Aurors had put away as a lost cause. He set the criminal up to be captured and covered all magical traces that could lead back to him. He'd even Obliviated Dawlish on a couple of occasions.

He glanced at Draco to find his pale face had paled further. Draco had the Dark Mark, but was acquitted on Harry's testimony. Many members of the wizarding public had raised an uproar when Draco was accepted into the Auror training programme. Harry's gut clenched when he realised that if what Robards was saying was true, Draco would be in danger of becoming a victim.

Lessons returned to normal after Robards had spoken and taken questions for about an hour. Proudfoot redirected their attention to Concealment and Disguise.

~x~

It was Tuesday, also known as food night. Every Tuesday, Harry and a group of his friends would choose a restaurant to visit. Tonight it was decided that they try the new Chinese restaurant which had opened in Hogsmeade, Chin's Kitchen.

After a jovial meal, Mrs. Chin, a wizened old Chinese witch, brought round their fortune cookies. They took turns reading each of their fortunes aloud.

“You will find yourself embarking on a quest,” Ginny said, grinning. “Well that’s something to look forward to. What does yours say, Harry?”

Harry cracked open the cookie and removed the paper fortune from its shell. “You are a God amongst men,” he read, causing the whole table to erupt in laughter.

“You would get that fortune, Potter,” Malfoy said, giving Harry a small kick in the shin from his place on the other side of the table. “Let’s see what mine says.” He opened his cookie and read: “You will find romance is closer than you think.”

Pansy let out a shriek of laughter. “Oh, Draco. Your wait is coming to an end,” she said, glancing from him to Harry and back.

“Oh ha ha,” Malfoy trilled, though his cheeks had coloured.

Harry pretended not to notice. “What does yours say, Pansy?”

She shook back her short bobbed hair, and opened her fortune. “You are wise beyond your years,” she read, and gave a self-satisfied nod.

Malfoy hid his snort of laughter in his cloth napkin, and earned a patented Pansy glare.

”Happiness is but an owl away,” read Luna. She smiled serenely. “What about yours, Hermione?”

”It doesn’t take a green thumb to make a garden grow.” She frowned. “I think I got Neville’s fortune. Come on then, Neville; read yours.”

Neville broke open his cookie and pulled out the paper. "Books teach only so much, life teaches much more.” He looked up at the smiling faces around him. “Yup, it looks like our fortunes did get mixed up. What about yours, Ron?”

Ron picked up his fortune, having already eaten the cookie. “Wealth is measured in love not Galleons. Well, that’s rubbish.” He crinkled up his paper at threw it at Ginny.

Malfoy picked up Harry’s fortune and looked at it. “Oh look, Golden Boy, yours is written in silver. I think you should have it framed and put it next to your picture of Severus on the fridge.”

Harry glowered at him, and kicked him back.

“Hang on,” Ron interrupted. “Harry, what are you doing with a picture of Snape on your fridge?”

Harry rolled his eyes, and shook his head. “Malfoy gave it to me, so it’s just as much his picture as it is mine. And as I remember, you were the one who put it up there,” he said, turning back to Draco.

“Well, you never took it down or even complained about it, so leave it be. It’s a reminder that people are not always as they seem.”

Harry smiled crookedly and nodded. “Let’s drink to that.”

Everybody picked up their lagers and clinked bottles.

Harry sat back in his chair, thankful for his friends' presence around the circular table. He was feeling happily buzzed, and wanted to announce to everybody present that he and Draco had become an item. At least, he thought they had. It was probably best not to say anything until he cleared up his relationship status with Draco.

Then he felt it. A wand poking him in the throat. He was grasped from behind and lifted up. He focused on what was going on in front of him. Every one of his friends was being held like he was, by people in Death Eater robes and masks. He struggled against the arm that held him, but the Death Eater locked his elbow around Harry's neck and pressed tightly, the point of his wand poking Harry in the temple.

"You have the Malfoy brat?" one of the Death Eaters asked.

"Yeah, little ferret tried to scamper off," he answered, laughing.

Harry looked for Draco, but found the Death Eater was holding a struggling white ferret tightly between his hands.

Harry felt his wand fall out of his back pocket. He heard it hit the ground. The Death Eater who held him noticed and stamped on it, breaking it in two pieces. The Phoenix feather was damaged beyond repair.

Harry felt his magic boil up within him, crawling under his skin and out his pores. Accio wands, his mind screamed. He held out his hand and eight wands flew out of the Death Eaters' hands, and into his. He threw his assailant off with a burst of energy that sent the man skidding on his back across the room and into the wall. The others stared, and Harry quickly cast an Anti-Apparation spell over the restaurant, followed by eight simultaneous Body-Bind Curses.

Harry's friends stared at him, awestruck. The Death Eater that had been holding Draco had dropped him, and he promptly resumed his human form. "Potter, what the hell was that?" Draco barked, breaking the silence.

Harry's face went red with embarrassment, but he concentrated on holding his spells in place. "Does it matter? Will someone send a Patronus to the Aurors?" he asked, irritated. There were too many witnesses of his untamed power. He hadn't uttered a word to cast the spells. He was barely aware he was even thinking about the incantations. All he knew was that he had to save his friends. He couldn't Obliviate his way out of this situation.

~*~

Back at Auror Headquarters in the Ministry of Magic, the party was being interrogated after they had transferred the captured Death Eaters to Azkaban. Robards was focused on Harry, and was interrogating him apart from his friends.

"So, as I'm understanding it, you took down the whole group of Death Eaters alone and without a wand. Is that correct?"

"Well, I couldn't just let my friends be killed, now could I?" Harry said, irritated. He just wanted to go back to the dorm he shared with Draco, and have Draco comfort him until they fell asleep. He didn't want to face the repercussions of what he had done.

"Of course," said Robards. "I can understand your reasons for taking action. The only thing I'm wondering is how did you do it?"

"I already told the Aurors at the scene; I don't know. My magic has gone a bit wonky lately, and I've been working on controlling it, but sometimes it just acts on its own. You know, it's sort of like when you're a child, and your magic comes out to save you from things, but you weren't aware of doing anything," Harry said, hoping Robards would buy it.

"If there was something odd about your magic before this happened, Potter, you should have informed the Ministry, or the Auror department at least. We can't have untamed magic running amok around innocent bystanders."

"What?" Harry spat. "You mean the innocent bystanders wearing Death Eater costumes, caught in the act of some nefarious plot by holding my friends at wandpoint?"

"No, no; of course not," Robards sputtered. "I'm just a bit stunned by this event, and I'm not thinking properly. Nobody is saying that you've done anything wrong. You are a hero after all. We just can't let the fact that you have an unknown quantity of wild magic reach the public. It could send fear into the hearts of the wizarding community. For all we know you may be eventually corrupted and become the next You-Know-Who."

Anger built up inside Harry at these words. "Do you realise who you're talking about?" Harry asked bitterly. "I will never become a tyrant. I don't want fame and glory, it just found me. All I want is a simple life. It's all I've ever wanted."

Robards stroked his goatee thoughtfully. "Very well, Potter. I'm still going to recommend that you have your powers tested by the Department of Mysteries, however. But for now, you're free to go. Oh, and I'll need you to begin writing reports on each of the Death Eaters apprehended tonight."

Harry looked Robards' serious expression in anguish. He was to become a laboratory rat for the Unspeakables, and yet he still had to file formal reports for the Auror department. "Why?" Harry asked belligerently. "Why do I need to write the reports when it was the other Aurors who took them into custody?"

Robards raised a bushy grey eyebrow at him. "Yes, but you were the one that subdued them, and you are nearly a full-fledged Auror yourself. I want you to begin the reports so the other Aurors will have the facts straight for when they finish them. We'll need them by no later than Friday. And this does not excuse you from your aptitude test."

Harry stood up and placed his hands on Robards' desk, palms down. "Fine, I will do it, but I will only subject myself to the Department of Mysteries if you assign my case to Luna Lovegood and Hermione Granger. I don't know the other Unspeakables, and I don't trust them."

Robards' moustache twitched. "Under normal circumstances, a wizard is not allowed to choose his interrogators, especially if they themselves were involved with the event in question, but I will allow it for you. If I don't, I know you'll go straight to Shacklebolt and demand it be done anyway. Oh yes, there's one thing more, before I let you go…"

Harry sat down, appeased a bit by getting his way in terms of his upcoming interrogation and testing. "Yes?"

"Do you know why the Death Eaters targeted your group this evening? What were they after?"

"Oh," Harry said, thinking back. "One of them asked if they had got Malfoy. I don't know if they were after any of the rest of us." Harry didn't mention the fact that Draco had turned into a ferret. He was pretty sure Draco wasn't registered as an Animagus.

Robards stroked his moustache thoughtfully with his fingers. "Malfoy? Your partner? Former Death Eater?" he asked curiously.

"He was acquitted," Harry reminded Robards.

"Under your testimony, if I remember correctly," Robards said, eyes gleaming mischievously.

"That's right," Harry said, narrowing his eyes.

Robards looked at Harry for a few more moments, without saying anything. Harry wished he could hear what Robards was thinking. He briefly thought about trying to use Legilimency on him, but decided it was too risky.

"You may go for now, Mr. Potter," Robards said.

Harry left.

~*~

Harry sat at his desk, holding his face up with one hand as he made a list of the Death Eaters he had to write reports on.

Draco came out of the shower with a blue towel wrapped around his narrow waist, and another piled on top of his head. He snuck up behind Harry, and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him back in his chair so his head rested on Draco's stomach.

"What are you working on?" Draco asked, looking down at Harry.

Harry couldn't help but smile as he looked up at Draco with the ridiculous towel on his head. "Reports about tonight," he said, and set his quill back in its base, feeling around the desk blindly for it, as his eyes were on Draco.

Draco frowned. "What happened tonight anyway? I remember having dinner, and then the Aurors were there, taking out a load of Death Eaters."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, and looked back down at the list of Death Eaters lying below him, though it was difficult, since he was being held to the back of his chair by Draco. They must have modified Draco's memory of the event at the Aurors' office. And if they did it to Draco, chances were that they did the same thing to the rest of his friends.

But the biggest thing on Harry's mind was why the Death Eaters were after Draco, and how they came to know about their dinner location when it was decided on the spur of the moment. Harry put his hands on top of Draco's, loving the feel of Draco's warmth from just having had a shower. The citrus potion that Draco used on his hair made Harry feel like swooning. He wanted to cuddle up in Draco's lap and stay there forever, just putting the real world on permanent hold.

"I don't want to talk about it tonight. I'm tired," he said, looking back up.

Draco smiled down at him. "I hope you're not too tired," he said, pale eyes bright with a flirtatious glint.

Harry moved Draco's hands and stood up. He pushed the chair out of the way and turned to face Draco, putting his hands on Draco's waist.

The towel around Draco's head fell off, leaving his wet blond hair hanging in his face. Harry lifted a hand and pushed it out of Draco's eyes. "What do you have in mind?" Harry asked huskily.

"Sex, full stop," Draco said, looking down the few inches that separated them.

~*~

Harry opened his eyes as he felt Draco's soft eyelashes tickle his nipple while Draco slept. He was relieved not to have had any nightmares for once in what felt like forever. He lifted his arms up over his head in a big, cat-like stretch.

"Wassa matter?" Draco slurred against Harry's chest, a string of drool hanging from his mouth.

Harry brought his arms down around Draco's body and rubbed his back. "I've gotta get up. I have some reports to work on before lessons this morning," he said, loving the feel of Draco's soft skin beneath his fingers.

"M'kay," Draco said, still half-asleep.

Harry scooted his body out from beneath his sleeping… partner? They were going to have to talk about their relationship status soon. Harry didn't want to be another notch in Draco's bedpost, but he also wasn't sure having a relationship was a safe thing to do. Maybe if they just kept it secret.

"Bollocks!" Harry cursed under his breath. He didn't have time to be thinking about such things. He dressed in a pair of baggy Muggle jeans and a tight black T-shirt, and sat behind the desk in the next room.

Just then, Hermione's tawny owl swooped in through the open window above the kitchenette. It landed on Harry's desk and held out its foot impatiently. Harry untied the note, and the bird swooped out, without begging for a treat, which Harry thought unusual.

He unrolled the note and read:

Harry,

Something big has happened! Luna and I require your presence immediately, before the Ministry steps in. Meet us at Grimmauld Place and bring your invisibility cloak. I don't want you taking any chances of being followed.

Hermione

More unexpected news, this was just what he needed. He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses. He wished he'd never got out of bed.

Hermione's note said "immediately," and he knew she meant business when it came to her job. There would be no time for him to shower or wake Draco to tell him where he would be. He picked up his quill and penned a quick note.

Draco,

I've been called away on important business and am headed over to Grimmauld Place. I'll meet you in class.

Harry

He draped himself with his invisibility cloak and Apparated to the top step of 12 Grimmauld Place.

The door was flung open and Hermione's arm reached out and yanked him, still invisible, inside. He took off the cloak. "What? What's the emergency?" he asked, irritated and confused.

"It'll be all over the Prophet in an hour, Harry. All eight Death Eaters that you captured last night were found dead in their cells in Azkaban this morning. You are going to be the lead suspect in their deaths." Hermione spoke without stopping for breath. She pulled Harry into a hug. "I'm so worried about what they might do to you."

Harry wormed out of her grip, and held her at arm's length by her shoulders. "Okay, let's sit down and we'll figure this out. I didn't kill those Death Eaters. Draco was with me all night and he can vouch for my alibi."

Luna's voice carried over to the entrance hall from the dining room. "I've been investigating, and I noticed that the other two Death Eaters who died recently were the same people you wrote reports for, for Auror training."

Harry and Hermione stepped into the dining room to find Luna seated cross-legged in the centre of the long dining table. She held the reports in her hands and was looking one of them over.

"This is bad, Harry," said Hermione. "It won't take long for them to figure out you're involved."

"But I'm not, am I?" Harry said, flummoxed.

"What these deaths all have in common is that you were assigned to write reports on the people involved," said Luna's dreamy voice, though the look in her pale blue eyes was far from dreamy. She stared at Harry. "Think, Harry. What did the reports all have in common?"

"Er," Harry stammered. "They were all Death Eaters?"

"Anything else, Harry?" Hermione pressed. "What did you write them with, a new quill perhaps, or a new bottle of ink?"

Harry looked up, horrified. "Oh my God!" he exclaimed. "I didn't even think about it. And I wrote…"

"What, Harry? What did you do?" Hermione asked, clearly shaken.

"It's a quill I found when Ron and I were cleaning out Kreacher's old den. It's silver and it has a jewelled base."

"You used something from this house without testing it first?" Hermione shrieked. "I swear you're as thick as Ron lately."

"That's not the worst of it," Harry said quietly, in full agreement that he had been thick in the head.

"What could be worse than a murdering quill?" Hermione asked.

"I wrote Draco a note with it this morning and … and I signed my name. I think I just sentenced us to death."

"Wait," Hermione said, taking a deep breath. "Another thing these deaths have in common is that they all took place at night. So that buys us some time."

"Time to do what?" Harry asked, exasperated. "Put our affairs in order?"

Hermione glared at him. "Our only hope is to destroy the quill," she said in her bossy, no-nonsense voice. "We've destroyed Horcruxes in the past, how hard could it be to destroy this quill?"

Harry rubbed the back of his neck absently. "Destroying the quill doesn't necessarily mean it will prevent us from dying. What if just having used it is enough to kill us?"

Hermione put her hair in a ponytail using a scrunchie she had on her wrist. "We'll just have to do what we can and hope it works," she said. "I don't want you leaving this house. It's still unplottable and protected by the Fidelius Charm."

"Yeah, weakly," Harry mumbled.

"Well, it's better than nothing!" Hermione spat. "Luna. Will you fetch Malfoy and the quill? Bring them here."

Luna climbed off the table, and pulled one of the radish earrings out of her earlobe. She pressed it into Harry's hand and closed his fist around it. "For protection," she said, and then turned on the spot and Disapparated.

Hermione picked up a clipboard that was lying on the table and flipped through the sheets on it. "Right," she said. "Harry, I'll be in the kitchen, cooking up a Dissolving Solution." She headed for the stairs leading to the basement.

"What would you like me to do?" he asked, with trepidation.

Hermione threw up her hands. "I don't know, just stay put. Wait for Malfoy."

Harry rolled his eyes and sat down at the dining table. He picked up Hermione's clipboard and looked at the top page. It was written entirely in Ancient Runes, and he couldn't make a word out of it. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, hoping that everything would work out. A niggling sensation began to bother him, and he drummed his fingers on the table. Did using the quill to write the Death Eaters' names make him a murderer? He shuddered and put his head in his hands, staring at the floor.

Moments later, Luna and Draco came spinning out of the kitchen fireplace. Luna put her super-secret portable Floo back in her hand bag. Hermione looked over at them, stirring a cauldron full of potion with her wand. "Did you get it?" she asked.

Luna produced the quill and its base from her bag. "Oh, I brought the note Harry wrote with it too. In case we need to burn it, and here's the list of Death Eaters written last night."

"What's going on?" Draco asked looking from Luna to Hermione and back.

"Didn't you tell him?" Hermione asked, aghast.

"I didn't think it was my place," said Luna with a sigh. "Harry's waiting for you in the dining room, Draco Malfoy," she said. "What is it you're brewing?" she asked Hermione.

Draco made a dash for the stairs. Harry looked up as he came into the room. "What's this I need to hear from you alone, Potter?" he asked, curious.

Hermione and Luna came up the stairs about an hour later. Harry and Draco sat side by side, not talking to each other.

"The Dissolving Solution is worthless," Hermione said bitterly. "This is going to be hard, Harry."

Harry looked up at her. "Well, what do we know destroys Horcruxes? I'm sure the same things will be able to destroy this quill."

Hermione listed them off, ticking her fingers. "Fiendfyre," she said.

Draco shuddered beside Harry. "Too risky, Hermione. You know that," Harry said.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm just listing, for goodness' sake. The Sword of Gryffindor," she said next.

"It's on display at the Ministry of Magic," Draco said, unhelpfully. "We'd have quite a time getting it out without anybody noticing."

"Right," Hermione said. "Basilisk venom," she listed.

Draco snorted. "Yeah right, like we're going to find a basilisk in this day and age."

Harry's and Hermione's eyes met as they both had the same thought.

"We need to get to Hogwarts," Hermione said.

"What?" Draco asked. "Why?"

Hermione stuffed the quill and its base into her coin purse and hid it in her bra. "Harry killed a basilisk in second year," she said matter-of-factly. "Its corpse should be there still and hopefully the venom will work even if it's dried a bit. It's our best bet. I know I left a few fangs down there in case we needed them in the future."

Draco looked at Harry with a curious expression. "Where did you find a basilisk at Hogwarts?" he asked.

"In the Chamber of Secrets," said Harry, getting to his feet. "Our best bet in getting into Hogwarts undetected is through Honeydukes."

"No," said Hermione. "I think the Shrieking Shack is better."

"But the humpbacked witch is on the third floor," Harry argued. "Moaning Myrtle's bathroom is on the second. It's closer."

Draco looked lost as he and Luna watched them argue. "What does a girls' toilet have to do with how we get in?"

"It's the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets," said Luna serenely.

"…besides, there isn't anyone to hit the knot on the Whomping Willow, so if we come out that way, we'll get our arses beaten by a tree. That's sure to rouse the suspicions of any nearby students," Harry argued.

"Fine, fine," Hermione said, giving in. "Honeydukes it is then."

A tapping sound came from the front window in the dining room. Hermione pulled the drape to find a Ministry owl pecking at the glass. She went to the door and let it in.

Luna untied the letter and read it aloud.

Hermione Granger and Luna Lovegood,

Where are you hiding Harry Potter? Don't think we don't know you're in on Potter's plot. Your attendance is required at a disciplinary hearing before the Wizengamot in two hours' time. Bring Potter with you.

Robards

Luna looked up at the others and shrugged. She balled up the note and threw it over her shoulder. "Not much we can do about that."

At that moment, a silver lynx came bounding through the front door and addressed them in Kingsley Shacklebolt's voice. "Harry, Hermione, Robards tells me that you, Harry, are behind the murder of ten Death Eaters and is holding a trial before the Wizengamot in two hours. Do not attend. Robards is a very just man and believes in holding up the letter of the law regardless of the circumstances. He has brought Dementors into the Ministry for punishing those who commit murder… namely, you. Take care of this problem as quietly as you can. As long as I am Minister, I have your back. Just take care of whatever it is as quickly as possible and report directly to me. I'll make sure to smooth things over for you."

The lynx disappeared in a wisp of white.

"Well, that was convenient," Draco said sarcastically. "Have you always had the Minister in your pocket, Potter?"

Harry glared at him. "No, and I didn't ask for it. We need a plan to get into Honeydukes unseen."

"Use your invisibility cloak," said Draco.

"I know that, Malfoy, but it will barely cover two of us and we number four."

"Well, what has all our training in Concealment and Disguise got us? Put the girls under the cloak and we'll get in using a Disillusionment Charm."

"Or we could use my portable Floo directly into the chamber," Luna said as if she was giving the time of day.

"Why didn't I think of that?" Hermione huffed. "It's by far the best and easiest way to get in."

"What is this portable Floo?" Harry asked, confused.

"That's classified, Harry," said Luna.

"Whatever," Harry said. "Well, are we going to do this, or what?"

Luna reached into her handbag and pulled a black circle out. She threw it against the wall of the dining room and it gaped open like a black hole.

"Chamber of Secrets," she said to the hole and jumped in head first.

Hermione pushed Harry in next, and Draco followed him. They found themselves standing in the huge cathedral-sized room, surrounded by statues of stone serpents. The husk of the basilisk lay at the base of the enormous statue of Slytherin. They rushed over to it.

"Pray that this works," Hermione said, pulling her coin purse out of her bra and taking the quill and its base out.

Harry retrieved a fang from the basilisk's corpse.

Draco, Luna, and Hermione stood around him in a half-circle as he took the fang and brought it down on top of the silver quill. There was a collected breath and then… nothing. The quill remained whole and undamaged.

"Is something supposed to happen?" Draco asked.

Harry looked up at Hermione in desperation. "What do you think? Should we give Fiendfyre a go?"

"Absolutely not," Hermione and Draco said simultaneously.

"Why don't we try wetting the fang? Maybe it'll absorb some of the dried-on venom," Draco offered.

Hermione looked at Harry. "Where's your wand, Harry? You should be the one to do this."

"Er… It sort of got stepped on and broken in two last night at the restaurant."

"Oh, Harry. What are you going to do without a wand?"

"Well, to be honest, I really don't need one. I've been practising wandless magic for a while now."

Hermione stared at him. "When did this start?"

"What?" Harry asked, drawing a circle in the dusty floor with the sole of his trainer.

Hermione shook back her bushy ponytail in frustration. "Harry, when did you start to gain this … power? You certainly didn't have it at Hogwarts."

Draco and Luna stared at Harry, waiting for him to answer.

"Well, er … I guess it started after I defeated Voldemort. Maybe when his Killing Curse rebounded off me I tapped some of his power?"

"No, Harry," said Luna. "It's when you took possession of the Elder Wand. That is your true wand. You should use it. It might be the only thing that can destroy this quill."

"I am not going to defile Dumbledore's grave again," Harry said, resolutely.

Draco looked away at this. Harry assumed he must be feeling guilty for having defiled Dumbledore's final resting place the first time. He looked back at Harry, annoyance spread over his features.

"Are you daft?" he asked.

"What?" asked Harry. "Why would you ask me that?"

"You hid the wand in the same place as before? Don't you know how easy it would be to lose it forever? Not to mention that people think you have to kill the owner of the wand in order to take control over it! You're putting your life in the hands of a dead man!"

Hermione screamed.

"What?" Harry, Draco, and Luna asked, as they watched her do a sort of 'I-feel-icky' dance.

She shook herself again, and stamped on a large grey spider the size of a small dish. "Oooh," she said, rubbing her arms up and down close to her chest with her hands. "It looks like spiders don't fear basilisks as long as they're dead."

Harry stared at the squashed spider on the floor. Its guts oozed out in a milky green puddle. "That's it!" he said. "Aragog!"

"What about him, Harry? He's dead," Hermione said.

"Who's Aragog?" Draco asked.

"Hagrid's pet Acromantula," said Harry. "In sixth year, Professor Slughorn and I went to his funeral."

Draco gave Harry a 'what-the-fuck?' look.

"It's a long story," Harry said. "Don't worry about it. My point is that Slughorn harvested some of his venom before they buried him. We could see if it would work. What do you think?"

Hermione looked thoughtful. "It might work. We're going to have to sneak into his private stores to get it without getting caught."

"There's a secret passage to the Potions master's office from the Slytherin dormitory," Draco said. "I used to sabotage the ingredients for Hufflepuff's lessons."

"That's terrible, Malfoy," Hermione said with disgust.

"Yeah, like you were perfect in school, Granger. Don't tell me that Potter and Weasley came up with all the crazy schemes they got detention for on their own. I know you were the brains behind at least someof them."

Harry snickered behind him. Hermione glared at Harry and Draco.

"When did you two get together?" Luna asked as if she'd just noticed them standing together.

"What?" Hermione asked. "Harry, is this true?"

Draco kicked Harry's shoe with his foot. Harry looked up. "Well, I hardly think this is the time to have this conversation."

"Why the hell not, Potter?" Draco snapped. "Have you decided you're embarrassed about me? Am I not man enough for you?"

"God, no, Draco! Why are you doing this to me right now?" Harry asked, incredibly confused.

"Was I not man enough for you last night with my cock up your arse?" Draco spat.

"That's a little more information than I would like to hear," Hermione said, trying to break them up.

"No it's not," said Luna. "I think it's very healthy for them to open up and talk with each other." She sat down on the shelf of an alcove behind the basilisk's corpse, and pulled out the current edition of The Quibbler.

"Hermione," said Harry, eyes on Draco. "Could you give us a minute to talk?"

"Admit it, Potter," said Draco, sneering. "I'm an embarrassment to you. You didn't want your friends to know that we're fucking."

Hermione's face coloured, and she backed away, joining Luna in the alcove, and looking over her shoulder at the magazine.

"No, I won't admit it," Harry said as calmly as he could. "Because it's not true. I'm not embarrassed about you. It's just I hardly think that now is the time and place for us to have this talk."

"Well, when is a good time then, Potter? Answer me that? Tomorrow? When we're dead?" Draco shouted, voice carrying through the enormous room.

"Fuck, Draco! Do you have to be so dramatic about everything?" Harry asked, exasperated. "I've been meaning to ask you what you want our relationship status to be. I mean—I really don't want to be just another bloke you shagged. But it's like—" he tore at his hair, and then shook Draco by his shoulders, "—we are going to die if we don't figure out this quill thing. I think life is slightly more important to focus on right now."

"Potter," Draco said, subdued, looking over Harry's shoulder. "I think we're too late. I see the Grim."

Harry spun around. "What? Where?"

"Don't you see it?" Draco asked, voice trembling. "It's right there behind Slytherin's statue, just staring at me. It's got these white eyes and—"

"I know," said Harry. "Listen. Those nightmares you woke me from… they were of those first two Death Eaters, being chased to their deaths by the Grim. It turned into smoke when it attacked though, so their deaths were actually accidents from them trying to run away. So whatever happens, don't run from it."

He turned to Hermione and Luna, who had moved out of the alcove and wandered back over to where Harry and Draco were talking. Hermione looked at the spot Draco was staring at.

"Listen, you two," Harry said, addressing them. "I want you to take Draco somewhere safe from the Ministry. Stay with him, and don't let him run from the Grim. I'm going to go to McGonagall and see about getting the Acromantula venom from Slughorn."

He turned to Draco and pulled his face close. "Listen, I am not ashamed of you. I love you. If we make it out of this alive, I'll even take out an advert in the Prophet and announce our relationship to the whole wizarding world."

Draco dragged his eyes away from the frightening apparition and stared hopelessly into Harry's eyes. "Promise?" he asked, shuddering.

Harry leaned forward and brought Draco's lips down to meet his. "Sealed with a kiss."

Luna pulled her portable Floo from her bag and threw it at the nearest wall, opening a black hole. "Are we ready?" she asked.

Hermione and Draco nodded and Harry watched them return to Grimmauld Place, his stomach twisting in knots. Why couldn't he see the Grim too, he wondered? He shook himself and rubbed his arms with his hands. Right. It was time to save the day.

~*~

Harry stood before the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Headmistress McGonagall's office. He stared at the Marauder's Map, noticing the spot representing himself was saying, "Jelly beans."

He repeated the password, smiling at the thought that McGonagall was continuing Dumbledore's tradition of using Muggle sweets as passwords. He ascended the circular staircase and knocked on her door when he reached the top.

"Come in," he heard McGonagall say. He entered the room.

She had redecorated the office into what looked like an old woman's sitting room. Gone were the strange instruments that had decorated Dumbledore's office.

"Mr. Potter?" she said, surprised. "What, may I ask, are you doing here?"

Harry took a deep breath to calm himself and let it out. "I need Acromantula venom," Harry said, readying his argument. "I know that Professor Slughorn collected some in my sixth year. It's an emergency," Harry pleaded.

"I see," she said, frowning. "Why didn't you ask Professor Slughorn for it directly? What are you going to use it for?"

Harry raked his fingers through his hair and pulled at his messy black roots. "I accidentally found this silver quill that kills people whose name you write with it, and I accidentally wrote Draco Malfoy's and my own name with it before realising what it did. I need to destroy the quill before the Grim chases us to a gruesome death and the basilisk venom in the Chamber of Secrets is all dried up, so I thought—"

"Say no more," Professor McGonagall said, and she sent her cat Patronus shooting out of her wand. "I shall inform Professor Slughorn to bring the venom this instant."

"Did I hear mention of the silver quill?" Dumbledore's tired voice asked from the painting behind the desk.

"Er—yes," Harry said, wincing. The last thing he wanted was to disappoint Dumbledore with his foolishness.

"Come closer, so I can see you, Harry," Dumbledore requested.

"I'll just let the two of you speak," said Professor McGonagall, stepping out of the office to wait for Slughorn.

"The silver quill was forged by goblins many centuries ago," Dumbledore said, as if he were giving Harry a lesson in history. "It was stolen by dark wizards about a century ago, and was lost to the goblins. The quill in and of itself does not kill. It is a goblin spell put over the quill that when it is used in the hands of anyone but its true owner, it will summon the Grim and bring about a horrific end to those whose names are written with it. Acromantula venom may destroy the physical form of the quill, but the curse will remain. The only way you can survive having written yours and Mr. Malfoy's names with it is to parley with the goblins, and return the quill to its rightful owner."

Dumbledore stopped speaking and his portrait stroked his long beard.

"Did I hear that Mr. Malfoy is going to die at your hand, Mr. Potter?" Snape's voice asked, dripping poison with each syllable. "Your incompetence is uncanny. Do you never learn to use your head?"

"Severus," Dumbledore chided. "That is enough. I am sure Harry here is deeply troubled for putting your godson in danger."

"Godson?" Harry asked. "I mean, I'm truly very sorry, Professor Snape. I'm seeing Draco, actually, and this whole ordeal has me shaken to my core. I'm going to do everything I can to save him."

"Seeing him?" Snape asked silkily. "Explain yourself."

"Er—" Harry said, but was saved when Professors McGonagall and Slughorn came into the room.

"Harry Potter!" Slughorn chortled jovially. "It has been a while. I have the venom right here for you," he said as if giving the time of day. "How have you been, my boy?"

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry stuttered. "I don't need it any more. I have to find the goblin who owns the silver quill and beg him to release the spell upon it."

"What's that?" Slughorn asked, putting the phial of venom back in his waistcoat pocket. "By Jove, the actual silver quill?" His eyes gleamed, and Harry recognised the look of greed in them.

"Horace," Dumbledore said, clearing his throat. "You have contacts with the goblins at Gringotts, do you not?"

"Well," Slughorn said, puffing up with pride. "I don't like to brag, but I am an acquaintance of Ragnok, the President of the Goblin Trading League. I could put in a good word for you, I suppose."

"What is this about seeing him, Potter?" Snape's voice interrupted irritatedly.

Harry felt pulled in all directions. "Er—well, he's sort of my boyfriend," he said, grimacing under Snape's pointed black stare.

"You are dating the Malfoy heir? You are the cause of the grief Narcissa is suffering? I should have guessed as much!" Snape spat, disgusted.

Harry cringed. He'd had no idea there was anything wrong with Draco's family situation, but then, he hadn't been very attentive to Draco's life either. He had been too busy talking himself out of his attraction to Draco to notice much of anything.

"Severus," Dumbledore said. "That is enough."

Snape's portrait glared at Harry one last time and walked out of the frame, leaving behind a stretch of green canvas.

Slughorn lifted a bushy grey eyebrow at Harry. "Never had you pegged as a shirt-lifter, Potter," he said, smiling. "But everybody has their dark secrets I suppose."

"Horace, leave Harry's sexual orientation out of this," Dumbledore called from the wall. "Please contact Ragnok at once. Harry must meet with him as soon as possible, his life is at stake."

"I'm going, I'm going," Slughorn said, patting his round belly. "I assume you'll return the favour at some point, eh, Harry?"

"Of course," Harry said, confused. "Please hurry."

Slughorn left the office by floo.

"Now, Harry," Dumbledore instructed. "The goblins will likely accept the quill readily enough, but they will be less inclined to remove the curse upon it until it's been carried out. This is where you will have the advantage of being the master of the Elder Wand."

"But, sir, I don't have the wand anymore," Harry said worriedly. "I told you, remember. I put it back in your grave, so its power will die with me."

Dumbledore raised a white eyebrow. "But, Harry, you are the only one who should wield that wand. It could be stolen from its hiding place. I imagine your magic has run amok without the wand to use to channel it."

Harry felt like the world's greatest idiot. "But didn't you tell me—"

"Potter," McGonagall interrupted. She held in her hand a special edition of the Evening Prophet. "There is a price on your head. The Aurors have been dispatched to arrest you for missing the hearing before the Wizengamot earlier today."

"You must fetch the Elder Wand at once," said Dumbledore hurriedly. "It will enable you to use your magic to slip through their fingers, and hold sway over the goblins."

"But how—"

"There is no time for arguments," Dumbledore snapped. "Go!"

~*~

The Grim circled the drawing room of 12 Grimmauld Place, eyes fixed on where Draco sat before the fire with Hermione and Luna.

"It's going to get me," Draco said in a shaky voice. "There's no way Potter will be able to destroy that quill before I die. I wish I could apologise to my mother."

Hermione patted Draco's knee with her hand. "You know Harry. He always comes through; let's just sit and wait it out."

Draco's eyes looked wildly to the left as the Grim appeared to be rearing up to jump at him. He shut his eyes tight, forcing himself not to move.

He stiffened between the girls. "Now," Hermione said, trying to steer the conversation. "Why would you need to apologise to your mother? You haven't done anything wrong?"

"I'm a failure," Draco wailed, tears squeezing out through his closed eyelids. "I told her I wouldn't produce an heir. Told my parents to fuck the Malfoy name and all it's stood for over the generations. And then I fell in love with Potter. The very man who brought us to ruin, according to them. I just can't do anything right by them."

"I think you're very brave," Luna said thoughtfully. "Not many people would stand up under the pressure your family has placed on you. I can understand why Harry likes you so much."

Draco opened his eyes, seeing the Grim in its same hunched position.

"It's waiting for me," Draco whispered. "Waiting for me to make a move, and then it'll kill me."

"No, it'll be all right," Hermione said, smoothing Draco's hair. "It has to be."

The Grim narrowed its glowing white eyes at Draco and pounced.

Draco's scream echoed through the house.

~*~

Harry was shaken as he re-entered McGonagall's office, having retrieved the wand. He hadn't expected Dumbledore's corpse to be perfectly preserved in a Stasis Spell. It had looked as if the old man had just closed his eyes in sleep.

He tripped over something large as he walked without really seeing. It sent him sprawling to the floor. When he looked up, he discovered the goblin, Ragnok, glaring down at him.

"S-sorry," he stammered.

Ragnok grunted and began to speak Gobbledegook. Harry was surprised to find he could understand it.

"Present me with the quill," Ragnok instructed.

Harry pulled Hermione's coin purse out of his back pocket and rummaged round in it, finally producing the quill and its base. He held them out for the goblin to take.

Ragnok's glare grew suspicious as he took the items from Harry's hands and examined them. "Yes, this is the quill that has been missing. I will return it to its maker."

"But—" Harry said, struggling. "The curse on the quill, it's already killed ten people. I accidentally wrote my own and my partner's name with it. Can you lift the curse before we're killed?"

Ragnok stared at Harry, blinking his beady black eyes a few times. "You are Harry Potter," he said as if he'd just noticed who Harry was.

"Yes," said Harry nervously.

"What's done is done and cannot be undone," Ragnok exclaimed, and then disappeared with the quill with a loud crack.

Harry crumpled to the floor in defeat. He'd lost, and now there was nothing left to do but wait for the Grim to claim him.

"Harry," Dumbledore's portrait said softly. "Did you retrieve the Elder wand?"

"Yes, Professor," Harry said sadly. "But it's too late. You heard what he said."

"No, I may have heard it, but I didn't understand a word," Snape's portrait snapped. "You were speaking that infernal Gobbledegook."

"All is not lost, Harry." Dumbledore's portrait said calmly. "You have in your possession all of the Deathly Hallows?"

"No, I don't," Harry said, looking up at the painting of the old man. "I lost the Resurrection Stone in the forest the last day of the war, don't you remember? You agreed that I shouldn't go looking for it."

"Oh, that's right," Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "My memory isn't preserved as well as my body, I'm afraid. If you find the Stone, you will be the master of death. The curse will be broken as far as you are concerned."

"But, what about Draco?" Harry asked. "I can't leave him to die. It isn't fair. It's all my fault for using that stupid quill when I should have binned it."

"It's high time you figured that out, Potter," Snape said, sneering down at him.

"Potter," McGonagall said, coming out from her private chambers. She held her hand out to him and dropped the Resurrection Stone in his hand. "It was found by a student and I confiscated it earlier this year. Take it and see if you can break the curse on yourself and Mr. Malfoy."

Harry stared at the cracked stone in disbelief. His invisibility cloak was shoved in his back pocket, he held the Elder Wand in his hand and the Stone in the other. He had united the Hallows as Dumbledore had once dreamed of doing.

"I have to find Draco," he said hurriedly shoving the stone into his front pocket. "It's almost dark out. I'm running out of time."

"Draco is in St. Mungo's," Snape said disdainfully. "He's not responding to any stimuli, but he's alive. His mother is with him now."

"How do you know?" Harry asked hoarsely. Draco was comatose and it was all his fault.

"Narcissa had a portrait of me commissioned a long time ago. I was talking to her when she received the message from the hospital." Snape's words came flowing silkily with a snobbish air. "She is the one behind the recent Death Eater activity."

"What?" Harry asked, aghast.

"It seems that news of her son's preference for men reached her ears. She wanted him back to convince him to sire an heir, and sent his father's friends after him. I hate to have overheard that meeting. I'm trapped forever as Dumbledore's spy even in my portrait. It sickens me."

"Thanks," Harry said quickly.

"I didn't tell you for your sake, Potter. I told you so you can save Draco. Now get going!"

He nodded at Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore's portrait, and Flooed to St. Mungo's immediately.

~*~

He rushed through the corridors of the hospital to the ward where the beds were reserved for Hit Wizards, and through Shacklebolt's legislation, Aurors and trainees. He found Draco's room by noticing Hermione and Luna sitting on a bench outside the door.

"What happened?" Harry asked, anxious.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, tears springing to her eyes on her already tear-streaked face. "We did our best. He didn't run from the Grim, like you said, but it attacked anyway and put him in a coma. His mother is with him right now."

"I'll bet she is," Harry said, grinding his teeth.

Luna looked up from reading The Quibbler and her pale eyes grew wide. "Harry, you're covered in Screaming Scarabs."

Hermione looked over at Luna, shaking her head. "Whatever," she said, and looked back at Harry.

Harry felt his power grow to the point he didn't feel his body could contain it. He clutched the Elder Wand in his hand and let it absorb some of the effects. "I'm going in," he said decisively.

The door to Draco's room was flung open and Narcissa Malfoy rose to her feet, wand in hand, and pointed at Harry. "How dare you, Mr. Potter," she spat. "How dare you show your face to me when you've put my son in this…state?"

"Expelliarmus!" Harry called, and caught her wand in his hand. "Relashio!" he yelled immediately afterwards. Thick ropes flew from his wand and bound her to the chair.

"What is the meaning of this?" Robards' voice called from the door.

"It was her," Harry spat. "She's the one that sent the Death Eaters after Draco. She's the reason I needed to write up reports on their activities, and she's the reason they're now dead."

"That's not true!" Narcissa shrieked. "Prove it, Potter. I'd like to see from where you draw your conclusions."

"Indeed, Potter," said Robards. "I'd like to hear this as well."

"Ask Snape's portrait at Hogwarts," Harry spat.

Narcissa's face paled.

"Stand down! Stand down!" the booming voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt thundered outside the door to Draco's room.

The corridor was filled with ten Aurors. Shacklebolt approached Robards.

"As Minister for Magic, after hearing the testimony of Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts, I declare all charges against Harry Potter dropped and anyone who disagrees with this edict need present their case to the Wizengamot through regular channels."

Shacklebolt's declaration left Robards impotent. He motioned to his Aurors to take Narcissa away for trial and gave Harry a grim expression before leaving after her.

"Thanks for that," Harry said, shaking the Minister's hand.

"Not at all, Harry. I'm meant to tell you that Sunday dinner at the Burrow will be pot roast and your attendance is required."

"We'll see," Harry said, looking over at Draco's still form. "Can I have some time alone…with him?" he asked softly.

"Of course," Shacklebolt said, and shut the door behind him on his way out.

Harry sat on the bed beside Draco and lifted his lifeless body, crawling beneath him, so Draco lay propped against Harry's chest.

"I've got all the Hallows," he said, petting Draco's hair. "Apparently they were enough to protect me, but I want to share them with you. I want to share everything with you. Please wake up. I don't want to be alone any more."

Tears filled his eyes and spilled down his cheeks.

"Potter, you are such a drama queen," Draco croaked.

"Draco!" Harry exclaimed, looking down into Draco's face as he squinted against the garish lights of the hospital room.

"Please, don't shout," Draco said. "My ears are sensitive."

"I don't understand…how did you…"

"Potter, stop babbling," Draco said with a yawn. "I didn't run, just like you told me. I guess the Grim just gave up on me, or something."

"Did you hear?" Harry asked quietly. "About your mum?"

Draco's eyes darkened. "She told me what she did while I was sleeping. I could hear everything that was happening. I can't believe my mother would stoop so low just so the Malfoy name will live on."

"I meant what I said," Harry said, running his hand along the side of Draco's face.

"About what?" Draco demanded. "Because you told me if we made it through this, you'd take out an article in the Prophet declaring your love for me."

"Yes," Harry said grinning. "I'll do that, but I mean I meant what I said about wanting to share everything with you."

Draco eyed Harry suspiciously.

"What?" Harry asked, looking at Draco's expression.

"Are you seriously going to give up porn night for pot roast with the Weasleys?"

"Porn night with you? Never," he said leaning forward to kiss Draco's lips upside down.
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The Silver Quill