The Path of a Turncoat

 

The Path of a Turncoat

AU: Last year of school and Dumbledore is still alive.

Pairings: HG/RW, HP/DM

Betas: Dawn & Shannon, thank you very, very much! All mistakes are mine!

Rating: PG

Summary: Notes are passed and loyalties have changed. Is Malfoy a Turncoat or the last hope for the Savior of the Wizarding World?

 

Part One – The Turncoat

 

“We need to unite and become one school,” Hermione had burned into his brain. She was a real pain sometimes. ‘And now was one of those times,’ Harry thought to himself. He turned a corner and ran flat into Draco Malfoy! ‘This is just not my day. As if the cold shower and odd tasting kippers wasn’t enough of a clue,’ he thought.

 

Harry sighed deeply as he sat back up from the stone cold floor. Across from him lay Draco Malfoy’s books and parchment scattered in the space between them. Harry bit his lip to prevent himself from yelling at the vain git. After all they were both in their last year and more mature than that. Right?

 

“Um, sorry Malfoy,” Harry said hoping to quickly diffuse the situation, since Hermione would never finish lecturing him if he’d gotten in a row with Malfoy again. He quickly began to gather things up for Malfoy, in an effort to speed things along.

 

“Oh, what? Oh yes, me too,” Draco muttered. ‘Did he just blush?’ Harry wondered for a moment. For a second he felt concern that the blond was feverish, holding in a quiet rage or just plain embarrassed at having been nice back without a reason. As he looked, Draco quickly ducked his head hiding his face behind a shield of shiny, platinum blond hair that was the Malfoy trademark before Harry could tell for sure.

 

Harry stuck his finger in his ear and twisted it. He blinked. And did so again, then took off his glasses rubbed them clean on a bit of his robe and putting them on once more and stared at the blond trying to discern what exactly was going on here.

 

Was this really Draco Malfoy? Had Malfoy just apologized? Or had those kippers really been off? Maybe he should report to Madame Pomfrey. He shook his head clear and helped pick up the rest of the things before handing them back to Malfoy, while he pondered this latest enigma.

 

“Thanks,” Malfoy said softly as the last was picked up and he handed Harry a bit of parchment that looked as though he’d been scribbling hurriedly on it. Harry knew that handwriting was Malfoy’s in an instant, yet it wasn’t as neat and precise as if written in a great hurry. The ink of the letters almost appeared smeared.

 

What was going on?

 

Too confused to speak Harry gave Malfoy an odd look of complete bewilderment, while trying to figure out what to say. He looked from the parchment in his hand to Malfoy in question. The blond seemed to spot something over his shoulder and with one very serious look at Harry left the scene. Harry thought he heard Malfoy whisper loudly “trust me” as he left, but he couldn’t be sure. Something about the whole encounter struck an odd resonating tone of warning in his magic, but he knew he hadn’t been a spell or hex. It was just that Malfoy was not Malfoy!

 

“Harry, there you are,” Ron gave Harry a nudge startling him out of his thoughts from his confusing encounter with his previously predictable nemesis.

 

Ron waved a big meaty hand in front of Harry’s face and Harry pushed it away irritably. “What?” he snapped, angry to be torn out of his thoughts so abruptly. Why does he always have to do that??

 

Jerking back sharply, Ron held up his hands in surrender. “Hey, don’t kill the messenger. I just wanted to tell you that Hermione is none too happy about you walking off in the middle of her talking.”

 

“She wasn’t talking. She was giving me a bloody sermon and I’m tired of it.” The topic was quickly putting Harry in a bad mood.

 

“For my sake talk to her Harry; Every time you two fight she cuts me off.”

Ron elbowed Harry teasingly.

 

With a scowl, Harry rubbed his side. “Ron, don’t do that alright?” This is like having a friendly troll around!

 

“What’s wrong with you Harry? You’re as touchy as Hermione is today. I tell you I’m ruddy glad I didn’t have those kippers; if this is how you’re both going to be.”

 

As if on cue, Hermione arrived next. She came up quickly from behind them. “I should have known you wouldn’t have the common decency to stop him Ron.”

 

She stopped next to them. Her chest was heaving angrily. She held her books in front of her, looking very much like an angry Amazon replete with shield. Ron stepped behind Harry in fear.

 

Harry and Hermione rolled their eyes. She raised one finger and Harry knew he was about to get the lecture he had thought he’d first avoided by walking out. He should have known better. Hermione could be like a bulldog with a bone.

 

Only one thing could have stopped the sermon this time and luckily for Harry it did.

 

“What’s that?” she pointed to the small bit of paper in Harry’s hand. Hermione’s insatiable curiosity had saved him.

 

Harry looked down at the paper, realizing only then that he’d forgotten all about it. As he raised it up to read it, Hermione and Ron quickly closed in to see it over his shoulder. Well, actually Ron read it over his shoulder, Hermione tucked in front of him as if she had first right to read it. Harry rolled his eyes once more.

 

There will be a revel tonight in Huntersville.

 

Questions were suddenly flying at Harry from both his friends, very literally left and right.

 

“Harry, where did this come from?”

“Did you just get this?”

“Do we believe it?”

“Should we take it to McGonagall?”

“Better yet Dumbledore!”

 

But Harry didn’t hear any of it. His eyes were riveted to the page once more and once again he was lost in the thoughts Ron interrupted.

 

Why would Malfoy want him to know this? Was it a trap like it had been with Sirius? Why had Malfoy run off so quickly? Why did he have to write the note in such a rush? Had he purposely bumped into him?

 

He looked up and stared blankly down the hall where Malfoy had disappeared.

 

Did Malfoy want to be a spy like Snape? If so, why didn’t he go through Snape? Didn’t he know that Snape was a spy? Or had Snape managed to fool even him for all these years? But more than anything, why would Malfoy even bother?? Was he in trouble?

 

Not paying any heed to those around him as he took off down the hall; he simply barked out orders, trusting they’d follow them. He threw the paper at Hermione. “Go to the Headmaster and gather the Order right away.” He didn’t look to see if they were following his directive he had only one target in mind right now – Malfoy, who had some serious explaining to do.

 

Harry strode quickly as he could without running. He sped down the corridor and pondered Draco Malfoy. The blond had been acting quiet all year and hadn’t started any fights. Malfoy had just apologized AND said ‘thank you’. And gave him what was very possibly insider information. Was he now a Death Eater?

 

There was a cold breeze that wafted down the corridor and Harry felt a bit of odd panic rear deep in his gut. Suddenly he found himself running, yelling at students to get out of the way. Pulling his wand out, he skidded around the corner with it raised and stopped dead in his tracks as he took in the scene at the far end. Malfoy was crumpling to the ground and spotting his attacker, Harry quickly yelled out “STUPEFY!” The attacker fell to the ground like a felled tree.

 

Harry raced to Malfoy’s side and was horrified to see blood pooling around him. “Damn it Malfoy!” He cast the only healing spell he knew, just as Snape came around the corner. His wand was out and pointed at Harry immediately.

 

“We don’t have time for this now Professor! Malfoy’s been attacked. He did it!” Harry pointed to the stupefied form and hoped that Snape would come to the right conclusion. He yelled and his voice shook telling Severus more than his words. Luckily, he did believe him. His stress level was that of panic not guilt. Snape gave a terse nod and pulling a potion out of nowhere forced it down Malfoy’s throat.

 

The blond coughed and gagged a bit. He was breathless and obviously weakened, slumping back against Harry. “Help me get him to my quarters Potter.” Snape pointed at the prone form and levitated it upwards to a standing position. “I’m going to see the Headmaster. I expect you to both be there and in one piece when I return.” His onyx eyes flashed at Harry then looked at Malfoy with appeared to be actual concern. “Get going Potter!”

 

Harry huffed and resignedly helped Malfoy who was swaying dangerously. He ducked under one arm to help him walk. Once again he was happy for his latest growth spurt which put them nearly even in height, though Draco was slightly taller.

 

“I don’t need your help,” Malfoy uttered weakly, slumping against Harry even as he stubbornly denied his vulnerability.

 

“Right, whatever you say Malfoy.” Harry shook his head, wondering what had happened to the boy who had milked an attack on Hippogriff to the extreme. Who is this stranger? Is this the same Draco Malfoy I’ve gone to school with all these years?

 

There were several minutes where neither one spoke as they slowly made their way to the Potion Master’s room. When they arrived Draco leaned forward and whispered the password. Harry helped him sit down on the first chair he spotted. The blond sank gratefully into it and tried to catch his labored breath.

 

Harry spoke softly, knowing even the walls had ears at Hogwarts. “So what was all that back there Malfoy? Do you really want to be a spy? Do you realize you’d be going against your own father?”

 

“How stupid do you think I am Potter? Of course I did. And I know the winning side when I see it.” He looked away. “Father and Mother have been missing for awhile now. I think they’ve gone to visit family out of the country, or underground.”

 

Harry frowned. “But why now?”

 

“Even father sees the insanity that Voldemort has become.”

 

Harry found himself oddly irritated that Malfoy was still looking away. But sensing that it made it easier for the other to speak he remained quiet. He didn’t have to wait long for Malfoy to continue.

 

“But I refuse to join Dumbledore. The man might be the most powerful wizard alive, but he’s completely off his rocker.”

 

“Do you realize you’re actually agreeing with Ron now?” Harry smirked.

 

“I’m delirious from the attack Potter.” Draco looked down at his side where he’d been stabbed and looked a bit green.

 

“You ran a really big risk giving that to me.” Harry said softly wondering if Malfoy didn’t have a bit of Gryffindor bravery in him.

 

Malfoy nodded and bit his lip, “Nice of you to notice.”

 

Harry was about to ask what Malfoy meant by that remark when Snape suddenly entered the room and looked at them both sharply; his hawk-like gaze taking in every detail. He pointed a finger at Malfoy. “Shirt off now, I want to take a better look at that wound.”

 

His head snapped sharply toward Harry. “The Headmaster wants to see you. Inform him that we shall be along shortly.” Malfoy sat up sharply as if to say something, turned pale and lay back down. Snape started to tend to him, turning his back on Harry as if he no longer existed. Sensing the dismissal for what it was, Harry took his leave with more questions than answers.

 

Blindly walking to the Headmasters office, his mind numbly watched the stones in the floor go by as he made his way. What was going on? Was Malfoy really on their side now? Or was this some elaborate trap? Had Lucius Malfoy and his wife really left the country? That would leave a serious gap in Voldemort’s Inner Circle, he realized with a small smile that quickly morphed back into a frown. Malfoy had just made himself a marked man. They’d just caught the attacker, but what if he wasn’t acting alone? Was Malfoy really safe in Slytherin anymore? Why had he taken the risk? What was his real motivation? Was it really that Voldemort was more insane than Dumbledore?

 

Harry stopped in his tracks and smiled again with a sudden and odd realization. Malfoy believed in him or he never would have risked his life to pass inside information to only him. No one had ever said they thought he could really do what needed to be done to fulfill the prophecy. He walked slower and let that small reassurance sweep over him.

Even Ron and Hermione had never said that they thought he could actually pull it off. Really with their constant mothering he felt as if they feared more for his life than he did! Snorting at his odd turn of thought he found himself in front of the gargoyle that marked the entrance to the Headmaster’s Office. “Milky Way.”

 

The gargoyle roared to life and stepped aside. Harry quickly took the stairs two at a time even as they circled upwards. Now that his musings had been pushed aside, he wanted nothing more than some answers. Hopefully Dumbledore had some. He pushed the door open eagerly.

 

“Ah Harry,” the Headmaster greeted him with a twinkle in his eye as he stroked his long length of beard pensively. “Good of you to join us.” He waved his arm to indicate the gathering of most of the members of the Order. “I’m very eager to hear where you received this tip. Although I suspect it has to do with today’s attack?”

 

“Attack!?” Hermione gasped and turned sharply from Dumbledore to Harry, scanning him fearfully. “Are you okay?”

 

Choosing to ignore Hermione and her constant mothering, Harry rolled his eyes and looked back the Headmaster. “Yes, sir.”

 

The Headmaster nodded. “Very well.” He took off his glasses to clean them on a bit of his robe. “This leaves us with a rather unpleasant situation. He cannot stay in Slytherin. It is simply far too dangerous. His father would never forgive us if he came to serious harm.”

 

“Sir, Professor Snape and his charge will be arriving shortly.” Harry put in as he suddenly remembered that he was to deliver that message. Even as he did, he wondered why he hadn’t simply said ‘Malfoy’. Then again, neither had the Headmaster indicated whom exactly they were talking about. Was the wily old man up to something?

 

“Mmm,” Dumbledore looked over his spectacles at Ron and Hermione. Next, he looked up at the scattered members of the Order who’d been eerily quiet during this exchange. Harry suspected they didn’t know what he and Dumbledore did. Draco Malfoy was defecting from the Dark Lord. And Harry had never been more scared. Things were about to seriously change around here and Harry didn’t need Professor Trelawney’s All Seeing Eye for that observation. The question was who would kill him first? Voldemort or Ron? The red-head was not going to take this news well. Harry tried to catch Hermione’s eye to warn her but there was no time. The sound of a door creaking open caught his ear and he knew instinctively who it was.

 

“Ah, Professor Snape I see that our latest addition is faring better. Mr. Malfoy, are you alright? That was a very brave thing you did passing that information to our Mr. Potter.” His eyes twinkled sadly over the half-moon spectacles.

 

Draco Malfoy looked around the room with a grimace. Harry chuckled as he distinctly heard the blond mutter softly. “This isn’t what I wanted.”

 

The members of the Order looked on expectantly. They obviously expected some sort of swearing to allegiance to take place. Instead Malfoy shook off his mentor’s hand and turned to Harry. Then much to Harry’s amazement Malfoy sank to one knee. “I am yours to command. I owe you my life.” Gasps echoed around the room as the Order members took in the scene before them.

 

Snape folded his arms over his chest with a smirk. “Malfoy’s are so dramatic.”

 

The Headmaster chuckled as the others whispered back and forth. Hermione had quickly guessed the situation, much to Harry’s relief and had dragged Ron off to a corner where Harry saw her quickly trying to diffuse his infamous temper while explaining why he needed to remain calm.

 

Putting out a hand, Harry offered Malfoy a hand up. They stood looking at each other assessing the other, still holding hands. Harry shook Draco’s hand firmly. “You’re braver than I am, Malfoy.”

 

“Let’s bloody hope not Potter or we’re all in a lot of trouble.” Draco sneered. Harry took notice that his infamous Malfoy Mask was back in place and shrugged internally.

 

“No! We can’t trust him!” Ron called out from his corner, where Hermione looked visibly distressed at his outburst. “His father is a Death Eater.”

 

The Potion Master snapped around angrily, pointing his wand in their direction. “Shut up you idiot child!”

 

“Don’t talk to my son like that!” Molly Weasley threw her arms protectively around Ron, who threw out his chin stubbornly.

 

“Enough!” Dumbledore roared. “I believe Mr. Potter has something to tell us.” He looked meaningfully at Harry over his glasses.

 

Harry gave a small nod of understanding and began to explain the events of the day. By the end, everyone was looking at Malfoy with interest and some lingering doubt.

 

Dumbledore cleared his throat over the quiet. “Mr. Malfoy, are you ready to return to Slytherin? Or do you feel you’ve already compromised your position?”

 

“His position as what Albus?” Minerva asked, making her presence known for the first time.

 

“Mr. Malfoy can act as a spy, of course. We could have him stay with Professor Snape and go to classes during the day,” he mused aloud while stroking his beard in deep thought. “That way he can remain with his housemates.”

 

“Sir, the Slytherin House would be like throwing him to the vipers,” Harry spoke up feeling oddly protective of the Slytherin whose life he’d just been given charge. He tried not to think how it wasn’t the first time. But he could analyze his butterflies in his stomach later along with the pride he felt at being Malfoy’s protector.

 

Dumbledore chuckled at the unintentional joke. “I’m afraid the only way is to tell the school that Mr. Malfoy has sworn fealty to you.”

 

“He would have to go to classes with Potter,” Snape hissed angrily.

 

“Have to?” Harry asked nervously as he noticed Hermione had cast a silencing spell over Ron who looked like he was pitching a serious fit.

Shaking her head and pushing Ron towards his mother to deal with Hermione stepped forward to explain the term:

Fealty comes from medieval law and history. It is primarily a contract between two persons or entities. The act of entering into this contract is called "doing homage." Each party in the contract promises certain things to the other. Fealty comes in three basic forms. All of them are conditional. In order for them to be operative, each party must fulfill certain pre-set conditions. The first, and most well-known, is exemplified by the oath sworn by a Knight to the Crown. This is called Liege Fealty and is a promise of absolute service and obedience to the Crown of his Kingdom, or to an individual person, as in this case. The Crown, or the individual person, in turn promises to defend that liegeman's "rights and privileges," and in general to be honorable that agreement.

Harry stared at Hermione. She really is a walking, talking library. He looked over at Malfoy who looked unhappily resigned to his fate. “I promise.” Harry said softly, making sure to catch the eye of the blond. Malfoy visibly relaxed and even Harry felt better.

All in all, it took over an hour for things to calm down in the Headmasters Office once Harry made that agreement. But eventually, after much insisting on the Headmasters part - as well as Harry’s; the Order members finally left to protect the little village of Huntersville.

 

Malfoy was initially put up in a room near the Headmaster for his own safety. Harry took note he didn’t look amused at the arrangement. Knowing how the blond felt about the man, it was no wonder. However, Harry was simply glad he didn’t have to watch Malfoy non-stop. It was making him confused and his butterflies seemed to be growing too.

 

Unfortunately, Malfoy would have to go to all of Harry’s classes with him; in order to defend him if necessary. Oddly enough, Malfoy seemed almost relieved by this prospect. But Harry shrugged it off. They could talk later. Suddenly he had bigger things to worry about, like what kind of reception he was going to get in Gryffindor when he broke the news, especially if Ron’s reaction in the Headmasters Office was any hint of what was to follow. It came all too soon.

 

Needless to say, it didn’t go too well. Ginny looked jealous. Seamus did too for that matter. Neville seemed terrified at the idea of a Slytherin in Gryffindor and especially Malfoy. And Ron, well, he wasn’t talking to Harry yet. Once more Harry was getting the cold shoulder from his so-called-best friend. Hermione vowed to talk to him, but only after giving Harry a long winded lecture about how he should be careful when dealing with Malfoy.

 

When Harry finally got to bed that night it was to lie awake wondering about the events of the day. At long last he fell asleep with this thought, Malfoy isn’t my enemy anymore and he believes in me. He fell into an unusually deep sleep with a small smile on his face.

 

 

Part 2 – A Path Not Taken

 

Draco Malfoy walked warily toward Gryffindor Tower. He wasn’t at all pleased about the way things had gone down in the Headmasters Office, but he had known it was a possibility. As a Slytherin, or ‘ex-Slytherin’ he thought morosely, at least when his housemates got wind of his defection, he knew enough to have several plans. The first plan had been to get the message to Potter. That had gone well at first, but had ended badly. He winced at the memory of pain the steely dagger had wrought as it plunged into his side.

 

He recalled the last instructions his father had given “Salute whatever flag the light waves but get on their side. The Malfoy Family name must survive.” Draco wasn’t sure that this was the best way. But, it was the way now open to him. Granted it wasn’t one he would have willingly taken, if not backed into a corner by the Headmaster. The announcement would be made this morning at breakfast; that Malfoy had sworn fealty to Potter because he owed a life debt. It was certainly an appetite killer. Given the chance, he would have kipped out in bed all day.

 

Snape, however, had forced him out of bed regardless. He even had the unmitigated gall to remind him that he was a Malfoy. A sneer crossed Draco’s face as he stayed in the shadows best he could, while covering the distance between the dungeons and the tower. Fealty to Potter could be worse he supposed. At least Potter couldn’t read his mind. It was enough to shield it from Snape.

 

Dumbledore had seen through to his mind with ease. A twinkle lit up his eyes as he dropped to one knee in front of Potter. Perhaps the old romantic had hoped he’d ask Potter to bond with him. It was tempting just to watch Weasley eat his own tongue. He picked a place near the Gryffindor entrance and waited for Potter to come out.

 

Draco sighed. If only Potter would come out, out of the closet that was, Draco thought sadly. Anger and rivalry had faded over time to a simmering crush that Draco hoped would never be revealed. Could you imagine? Potter would laugh in my face, punch me or look at me like I’d gone insane. Weasley would have a field day! He was a Malfoy and not prepared to look like an idiot in front of the person who featured front and center in his hottest fantasies.

 

While it was true that his parents had fled because of Voldemort, they also wanted nothing to do with Draco until his little infatuation went away and he knew it. Lucius had not been the least bit amused and sequestered himself in his study for two days. When he came out smirking, he carefully laid out a careful plan to Draco that involved spying and trying to gain the loyalty of one Harry Potter. Since his parents would not be able to protect him from Voldemort it was critical that sole Malfoy heir be protected. If they could use Draco’s infatuation to their advantage all the better. Dumbledore’s sanity was as questionable as the Dark Lord’s, so Potter was the next best bet.

 

He was alone. It was not a pleasant thought. A warm hand on his shoulder startled him out of his morose thoughts. He looked up, wand drawn, into a pair of stunning emerald eyes. “You okay, Malfoy?”

 

Taking a deep breath to quiet his nerves and emotions at being startled so, Draco slowly lowered his wand. He looked over Potter’s shoulder and was surprised to note he was alone. He let one eyebrow rise up in silent query.

 

Harry shrugged. “I thought I better come find you.”

 

You found me what will you do with me? Draco thought, but swallowed the words down. Unknown to him he flushed slightly.

 

Harry frowned wondering what was making Draco pink like that. He’d seen it happen before, but couldn’t think of where. Maybe Malfoy was coming down with something. His stomach growled interrupting his thoughts. “Breakfast Malfoy?”

 

Draco didn’t move. “I ate already.”

 

Tilting his head Harry looked at him. “Well, I haven’t. Mind if we stop by the kitchens?”

 

Grateful that Potter was at least being polite, Draco gestured for Potter to go first. Harry nodded and took out his wand. They walked together in silence for several floors before Harry groaned. “I forgot my book for class!”

 

Draco shook his head and pulled out his copy of the Charms text. Casting a tricky replication spell he handed the slightly faded one to Harry, who was staring at him in disbelief. “Err, thanks Malfoy.” I wish I’d had that spell before now! I’ll have to remember that one!

 

“Say nothing of it.” They both seemed to silently agree that was the best course of action and entered the kitchens. Several house elves rushed forward to serve them. Soon they had a veritable feast in front of them. Malfoy just sat quietly, sipping at a cup of tea.

 

“Really Malfoy, you’re thin enough. Eat a bit more.”

 

Draco didn’t know whether to be angry at being called thin or pleased that Potter had noticed. He couldn’t resist teasing the Gryffindor. “Really Potter, I didn’t realize you were watching my figure.”

 

“I, I…err,” Harry stammered. Something in his heart was screaming at him, but he pushed it to the back of his mind and quickly changed the subject. “We don’t have long. But you probably have time for a cup of coffee.”

 

Draco nodded with a small smirk on his face. “You even know that I prefer coffee over tea? Have you been watching me?”

 

Harry took a swig of pumpkin juice before answering. “Know thy enemy. I’m sure you know a lot about me too, Malfoy.”

 

A sense of despair filled Draco at this comeback, instead of what had been hopefully sexual repartee. But he supposed it was true. He had spent a great deal of time in their seven years together studying Potter for the Dark Lord. Pushing his childish crush aside he noted the time. “I’ll take a small coffee then its time to go Potter. I refuse to allow you to make me late and tarnish my school record, along with my figure.”

 

Potter rolled his eyes but began to eat faster. Malfoy found it interesting that Potter seemed to eat more in his presence than with his friends. Speaking of which, “Are you sure the Holy Trio will survive without you today? Or are they waiting to see if you are hexed by me?”

 

A scowl covered Potter’s face much to Malfoy’s fascination. “I don’t really care,” he grumbled.

 

A single blond eyebrow rose up sharply at this response. “What do you care about?”

Then realizing what he asked he stared down into his bag as if searching for something. He stomped out his heart calling out for Harry to say, “You”. As if!

 

“Well I don’t care to be coddled to death.” Harry looked away. “I’d like to just be me.” He flushed. “It sounds stupid I know.”

 

“Not to me it doesn’t.” Malfoy supplied quickly throwing his arms up dramatically in the air. “I’m Lucius Malfoy’s son, Son of the Dark Lord’s Right Hand Man, Prince of Slytherin but never just - Draco.”

 

A smile swept across Harry’s face. “I’ve always wanted to be liked for being just Harry.” Snape’s right he is dramatic, but I like this side of Malfoy better.

 

This time they shared a smile together. A start of understanding had been forged between them in that moment. The moment was broken by the thunderous sound of hundreds of feet over their head. It was time for class. They each headed toward Charms feeling less like strangers and a bit more like friends.

 

All heads turned as they entered the room together. Every eye in the place stared at them. With a gulp, Harry took a step forward and heard hissing whispers coming from the Gryffindors and realizing Draco had stepped after him, heard even more coming from Slytherin. Malfoy was clearly shaken when he sat next to Harry. After the teacher began the class he wrote something down on a piece of paper and slid it to him.

 

This doesn’t look good Potter. Can you hold them all back if they try to kill me?

 

Harry looked around the class and wrote a reply.

 

We could.

 

Malfoy looked up from the paper to meet Harry’s eyes. He saw the confidence, strength and anger in the suddenly dark green, almost black depths.

 

This is Harry Potter. What does he need me for? Why is he putting up with all this? Is it because he is the consummate hero and feels he needs to protect me? Are we now friends? Or will he let me be killed by the angry mob?

 

Clearing his throat Harry stood up and said very clearly. “I’m sorry to interrupt this class Professor, but I need to say something to my fellow classmates.” He turned to face them all as best he could.

 

Is he INSANE? What’s he going to do? Draco felt panic building inside him as he stared down to his hands trying to control his emotions.

 

“The feud between Malfoy and I is over. He’s sworn fealty to me and I will protect him with my last breath. If you want to take on the only wizard that Voldemort has ever feared besides Dumbledore, well, don’t say you haven’t been warned.” He glared at them all until they looked away.

 

Filius stared at Harry in shock. He wasn’t the only one. The Gryffindors looked like they’d been slapped. The Slytherins were looking at Malfoy in amazement. There was a moment of silence before the most amazing thing that had ever happened in Malfoy’s life occurred.

 

Blaise Zabini stood up and then gracefully sank to one knee. “I pledge my own loyalty to Draco Malfoy.”

 

One by one, the Slytherins stood and pledged their loyalty to Malfoy. The Gryffindors were speechless while in the background the Charms Professor kept mumbling, “oh my, oh, my, my, my!”

 

Soon the entire side of the room was kneeling in fealty to Draco Malfoy. Harry slapped Malfoy on the back with a wild grin of joy. Malfoy turned to him and sank once more to his knee in front of Harry. “And I pledge all of our loyalties to you, Harry Potter.”

 

At these words, the Gryffindors were in an uproar of disbelief, yelling that it was a trap and Slytherins weren’t to be trusted. In less then one class period they’d gone from being angry at Harry to being worried about him being a victim of an insidious Slytherin plot. Harry rolled his eyes again and wondered how he’d put up with his housemates so far. With a smile, he turned to the Slytherins and following some sort of gut instinct knelt down to Malfoy. The Gryffindors were now screaming at the top of their lungs and without looking Draco knew that Granger was holding the Weasel’s leash.

 

A large explosion sounded from the front of the room and they all turned their attention to their diminutive professor. He was looking at the Slytherins with a frown. “You are all so young and rushing into war, sacrificing your families, your names, your wealth and friends. Perhaps –“

 

“Perhaps we should have done this a long time ago Professor.” Harry stood again, helped to his feet by Draco. Catching Hermione’s eye he then looked back to the small man. “We need to unite and become one school, one force for Voldemort to reckon with.” His heart raced as he felt Malfoy clutch his hand tightly, not letting go.

 

The small man smiled sadly. “Perhaps you aren’t as young as I thought. Nevertheless, everyone in this room knows. There isn’t a need to tell anyone else right now is there?” He wrung his hands and Draco could tell he was still worried. No wonder Severus had told him that if something happened to him that they could trust the Charms Professor.

 

“Professor, I think that’s a wonderfully Slytherin idea,” he smirked. A few Gryffindor laughed and received elbows to the stomach for it while the Slytherins laughed openly.

 

The compliment lit up the man’s heavily lined face. “Why thank you, Mr. Malfoy.”

 

Malfoy nodded and they all slowly sat down. Cautious looks were coming from the Gryffindor direction at both Malfoy and the Slytherins. No one seemed to have noticed that they’d just been holding hands. Draco’s attention was caught by the sudden appearance of a note on his desk.

 

Must be nice.

 

Draco looked down at the parchment they’d been passing notes on earlier.

 

What must be nice?

 

Harry looked at him and for the first time Draco saw the clear and evident loneliness that existed deep within.

 

Having friends so loyal.

 

Draco thought about how quickly the Gryffindor tide seemed to turn again and again and had to agree. Instead, he thought of how different Harry Potter would have been if he’d been sorted into Slytherin.

 

You would have done well in Slytherin. At least then you would have known who your friends were.

 

Harry snorted when he saw the parchment and added to it.

I’ve been told that before. And I agree.

 

Draco wasn’t exactly sure which answer surprised him more. But it seemed the whole friends issue was pressing more on his troubled mind because he wrote back:

 

Are we friends?

 

Harry shot him and odd look and wrote back:

 

Do you want to be?

 

Draco inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and thinking hard. What do I want? I can’t tell him I’d like him to go down on me right now or how hard I am right now thanks to his protection speech. Can I handle being friends with him after all these years? Stop it Draco. Just stop. Friends is the very best you can hope for. Father will be thrilled if it stops right there. But is this really about father and mother? Or about how I feel when it comes to Harry Potter?

 

Unable to stop himself Draco looked at Harry, ignoring the class completely. Harry looked back then looked side to side as if checking that Draco wasn’t looking elsewhere. He frowned and tilted his head. Confusion was written clearly on his face. Draco wondered how much he’d revealed by his own facial expressions. Potter was like a book. But somehow Draco took comfort in it right now. But he couldn’t have a conversation this serious by passing notes like a Third year. Aren’t passing notes what started this whole mess? He scolded himself.

 

‘Later’, Draco mouthed and was relieved and somewhat excited to see Harry smile and agree. Biting his own lip he tried hard to divert his attention back to Charms, but was having a hell of a time not noticing Harry. He smelled like leather and the wind and Draco fought hard not to lean into the scent.

 

At several times during the class he felt Harry looking at him and it took all of Draco’s inner strength not to do or say something stupid. He was still cursing himself internally for holding Potter’s hand like some love crazed Hufflepuff! His hand still tingled with the mere touch of the Gryffindor. Draco suddenly wanted nothing more than to bang his head repeatedly on the desk in front of him. The class ended saving him from that embarrassment.

 

He quickly gathered his things and cursed himself for his lack of attention to the subject. Perhaps Pansy would be willing to share her notes. Before he could think too long on it, Granger passed him a copy of her notes with a tentative nod then rushed off to join Weasel. When he looked up in confusion, Harry was smiling. “They really aren’t so bad once you get to know them. By the way, that’s Hermione’s way of saying she’s not going to cause trouble. I think that whole fealty to you then to me and me to you…well, you know what I mean.”

 

“I impressed her.” Draco said quietly as he began to understand Harry’s circular way of talking.

 

“As only a Malfoy could,” Harry winked at Draco and suddenly all of his butterflies returned. Draco put a hand over his stomach. “You okay?”

 

“Yes, why wouldn’t I be?” Draco snapped, falling easily back into the pattern of attitude to which he’d been raised his whole life. Harry shrugged, seemingly unfazed by his comment. “I think there are some friends of yours who want to talk to you. See you next class?” Without waiting for an answer, Harry headed off to the Gryffindors leaving Draco with a lot of Slytherins waiting for orders and answers.

 

Blaise stepped forward first and Draco felt some relief at this. “I’m counting on the fact that you have some sort of plan?”

 

“Father insisted I find a way to get on the side of the Light.” Draco admitted softly.

 

“Hmm,” Blaise nodded. “How far are you going to take this with Boy Wonder?”

 

“His name is Harry.” Draco defended without thought then winced as Blaise grinned.

 

“You’re lucky we’re friends so I won’t tease you here about this, but rest assured you will get an earful later.”

 

Pansy brushed by Blaise and huffed putting her hands angrily on her hips. “I got my knees all dirty in that little show of strength. The least you could have done was given me some warning so I could have cast a dust resistant spell first!”

 

Draco laughed a bit at this. Trust Pansy Parkinson to be more concerned about her appearance than swearing fealty to Potter. Actually it was one of the things they shared in common. It was a good thing they didn’t have to share a bathroom or they’d be fighting all the time.

 

He looked around at the other Slytherins grouped like a pack. “You all know wizarding laws and customs, probably better than Potter. I expect you all to follow through on them. Remember, dignity and grace under pressure. Our parents are on one side of this war and now we are on the other. From now on we travel in pairs, packs would be better. We are all in danger and sworn to protect Potter.”

 

“And you,” Blaise smirked. “Actually you can deal with Potter; we’ve got your back, just like always.”

 

A wave of emotion swept over Draco, concern for the lives of his friends. He could only hope they’d all graduate in one piece and together. In the meantime, they really were his family, all of them. He placed a hand on Blaise’s shoulder to show what it meant to him. Blaise gave a smug nod. Leaning forward he whispered,” We’re all banking on the fact that once you get into Potter’s pants, he’ll be protective to all of us.”

 

Draco choked. He felt his cheeks flare up even as he glared at Blaise ready to tell him off for being so cheeky. Unable to guarantee even to himself how he might react, he instead spun around on his heel in a maneuver that would have made Snape proud. With his nose in the air, he stormed out of the class and determinedly ignored the soft snickering of one Blaise Zabini.

 

 

Harry’s head popped right up when Malfoy and his cronies entered the classroom. His eyes followed the blond. He tried to ignore the fact that suddenly his entire world seemed to have narrowed down to just the blond. Harry felt the irrational need to know everything about Malfoy.

 

What did he do in his spare time? How did Malfoy really feel about him? The thought that Malfoy had only sworn Fealty to him to save his skin was disheartening. But Malfoy always had more than one reason to all he did, right? Right?

 

So if the first reason was to save his skin, then what was the second reason? Hope shot through Harry like a firework and he felt a smile break out on his face. He looked over to the blond. Malfoy seemed to know he was being watched and looked up. Their eyes met and both gasped at the intensity lurking there.

 

“Harry, stop staring at Malfoy,” Hermione hissed without looking up from her notes.

 

Blinking and breaking the connection, Harry looked over at Hermione. “I was not staring.”

 

“Yes, you were,” Ron commented from the other side of Hermione. Harry felt himself blush and was horrified that he had been so plainly caught out. It wasn’t that Hermione wouldn’t notice, heck, he should have realized she would. But even Ron knew? That was saying something. He must have been noticed doing it before. That thought only made him want to hide, feeling self-conscious he began to sink into his seat and gather his items.

 

“Honestly Harry, there’s no reason to be embarrassed.” Hermione sighed. “It’s not like he doesn’t stare back.”

 

“He does?” Giddiness surged through Harry’s body, at the news.

 

“Yup, natural enemies do that.” Ron added with a chuckle.

 

And just like that Harry’s stomach seemed to fall out and he was left feeling more confused than ever when it came to one Draco Malfoy.

 

 

Part III – Creating a New Destiny

 

Draco looked around the Slytherin common room. Everyone was sleeping in the dorms, which is why Draco loved this time of night. He could spend as much time as he liked doing whatever he liked and no one would care. Just as he was starting to settle in none other than Blaise Zabini came strolling out in his nightclothes and plunked himself in a chair opposite Draco.

 

“So how bad do you have it anyway?” the intruder asked with a smirk.

 

“I have no idea to what you are referring. You’re speaking in riddles Zabini. Perhaps you should go back to your beauty sleep. You’re obviously confused.” Draco studied his finger nails and hoped desperately that Blaise would leave him alone, despite knowing he was rarely that lucky.

 

“It must be serious for you to try to push me to bed. Tell me do you have a little picture of him by your bed that you kiss goodnight or do you just send him anonymous fan letters? It must be tough for the great Draco Malfoy, scion of the Malfoy Millions to be nothing more than a number, a hanger-on, a –‘

 

“That’s enough Blaise.” Draco growled. “Just shut up about it.”

 

Blaise smiled, he could obviously sense he’d hit a nerve. Draco cursed his own sensitivity when it came to the green-eyed Adonis. But hadn’t he done enough damage between them on their own? The truce between them was tentative at best and he certainly didn’t want to cause waves. Having Blaise interrogate him was one thing but he definitely didn’t want Harry to wonder.

 

Frustration and a bit of panic crossed his face for only a second. Perhaps some other student wouldn’t have caught it. But Draco had known Blaise for a very long time and being in the same dorm had only added to Blaise’s arsenal of knowledge. Unfortunately, among the weapons was an uncanny ability to read him. Actually only Parkinson could rival this ability. Anytime the two teamed up, he rarely stood a chance – Malfoy or not.

 

“Oh Merlin. You really do like him don’t you? Well, when you follow Daddy’s orders you don’t fool around Draco.” His voice dropped from light and teasing to serious as Blaise leaned forward over his legs to look sharply at Draco. “If it’s any comfort I think you could do it.”

 

Draco’s heart began to race. Did Blaise know what he wanted to do to Harry given the chance. Well, really any number of things depending on what was running through his thoughts at the time. But what was Blaise talking about. Taking a deep breath Draco willed his voice to be steady. “Do what Blaise?”

 

“Win Potter of course. Isn’t this what you want? There’s no way the Malfoy name could get dragged through the mud if you’re sleeping with the Golden Boy.”

 

Draco gulped. Images from his last dream seared his mind and despite his best efforts he felt heated. The dream had started innocently enough, holding hands in that damn Charms classroom about to laying next to Harry and holding his hot, hard length in his arms; feeling wanton and desperate and wanting oh, so much more …

 

“Well, if the blazing blush on your cheeks aren’t enough. I think the dazed look says you’ve already thought of him in your bed. Really Draco, I never knew you were such a –“

Draco’s wand was out and at his throat in a heartbeat. While homosexuality was generally ignored in the Wizarding world, among the Purebloods it was spoken about with a whisper and definitely not a shout. “Tread lightly Zabini. You don’t want to make me angry –“

 

“Much less your wannabe boyfriend,” Blaise chuckled while pushing Draco’s wand arm down. “Don’t worry Draco; I’ve got your back. But you better be careful about others. You’ve already beaten your own record for getting injured this year. Or are you hoping that if Potter is there, he might just get to like you?”

 

“I should be so lucky,” Draco whispered under his breath.

 

Blaise shook his head. “Good thing Snape doesn’t know what you are up to. He hates Potter with a passion.”

 

Draco shrugged. “I think he doesn’t as much as he pretends.”

 

“Spy?” Blaise mouthed. It was far too dangerous to even say such a word in the dungeons and they each knew it. Draco looked away and pondered what it was going to be like to be a spy. Yes, he could have Harry’s protection as his friend. But even Potter might not stop him from being Crucio’d by his fellow Housemates. He got lucky the first time.

 

Blaise stretched getting Draco’s attention back and smiled at him knowingly. “Are you going to do this the Gryffindor way and wait until he notices you or do it the Slytherin way and manipulate your way into his bed?”

 

“Shut up!” Draco hissed. He felt his cheeks flame again. Just because that might be part of his wildest dreams, didn’t mean he wanted Blaise to know that. However, he suspected the evil prat already knew. Nevertheless, the walls had ears and it was not safe to talk about here.

 

“Waiting then?” Blaise smirked.

 

Draco realized it was a fruitless struggle. He motioned to Blaise and they moved to a corner of the Common Room just to play it safe. Then he put up every single silencing charm, notice-me-not spells and such he could think of before he relaxed his guard and sat next to Blaise in the small area.

 

“So I saw you holding his hand, “Blaise began once more. “You never even held Pansy’s hand when your mother made you take her to the Ball. And I know you like everyone to maintain a safe distance.” Draco looked away and closed his eyes. So far Blaise was reading him like an open book. It was horrifying to be read like a First Year Hufflepuff in this manner. But in a way he wanted to talk about it. Yet Malfoy’s did not discuss their problems in regards to relationships. These things were arranged and Draco had fully expected to be tied down to a marriage contract by this point. If his mother hadn’t been able to convince his father to pursue this idea of letting him befriend Potter, thus giving him the first opening he’d ever had to pursue his dream boy he would have been up a creek without the proverbial paddle.

 

Instead he sat in the dimmest, darkest corner of the Common Room hoping to be asked just the right question and being scared to death of it at the same time. With a gulp, Draco realized that he would have been spotted right away by the Death Eaters for what he was. And to the Dark Lord, crucifixion was an excellent way to deal with wizards of his sort.

 

To his dismay he noticed he was trembling at the thought and slipped his hands under his thighs to hide them. “I will admit to having a certain fondness for personal space. When Harry did that, it was unexpected but nevertheless welcome in light of his announcement to the others. That Gryffindor nature of his will have to be closely watched.”

 

“Mmm,” Blaise agreed. “It has gotten him nearly killed more than once. And since we’ve all taken a number to stand in his protective shadow as it were that would be counter-productive. I’ll recruit some underclassmen to watch him. But keep in mind if I do that they might discover your little crush on Boy Wonder.” Before Draco could even respond to that Blaise added, “Why do you suppose they call him that and the Golden Boy anyway? Any clues?”

 

Draco let a smile escape at that. He’d heard the rumors just like Blaise had. This was a tease and Draco appreciated that Blaise wasn’t ripping him a new one like he could be doing. Harry Potter was rumored to have the largest third leg of anyone in Gryffindor. The Hufflepuffs believed it with starry-eyes. Ravenclaws were forever trying to estimate and the exact size. Slytherins tended to not believe it until it was seen first hand and depending on that persons experience that could be called into question too. “I’ll find out if he lets me.”

 

A small silence met this comment. Blaise slowly started to shake his head. “Wow, he’s even got you doubting yourself? What are you going to do if he doesn’t notice you Draco? What if friendship is all you ever get? Is that when you’ll let your Slytherin out?”

 

“I can’t,” Draco said in a near-whisper, feeling his hands tremble under his thighs. “It’s Harry Potter for Merlin’s sake, the Gryffindor Poster Boy! If I don’t come to him on his terms, it won’t happen or he’ll turn on me the way the Gryffindors turn on him!”

 

“But what if he’s straight only? He’s only had one date with that Cho Chang girl and even though it was disaster of legend, it was a girl. Or what if he tries it and dumps you because he doesn’t like it?”

 

“Are you trying to cheer me up Blaise?” Draco growled through his sharp, white, perfect teeth.

 

“No, but I am trying to get you to see reason. Yes, the whole fealty thing makes sense in a way because to goody-goody Gryffindors, what better then to have us bow to them. But,” Blaise leaned forward and growled back, “if you led us all into this and wind up crashing and burning on your own because that idiot hurts you, I want first dibs on Crucio.”

 

Draco smiled. “Thanks Blaise.” Nodding Blaise stood up and stretched his arms over head letting a thin strip of tight abs show. Draco absently wished he could have fallen for a Slytherin, but the Fates had just not been that kind. “Night Draco, good luck you’re going to need it. You know it won’t be long before the others see he’s bewitched you. I hope he sees the light soon.” He winked cheekily then Draco took down the wards and they each headed to their respective beds, heads full of thoughts.

 

The next two days were a bit odd for Draco. He found himself sneaking glances at Potter and hoping the other was looking at him as well. Blaise chided him on his lack of good timing, since he insisted Potter was looking. However, Draco was worried. Aside from ‘hello’ in the hallway, there really hadn’t been any interaction with the brunet. Since Professor Snape had been glaring down at all the Slytherins, everyone had been on their best behavior. The Slytherin’s hadn’t had time to worry about Fealty or what was going on with him.

 

Not that there was anything to report. It was as if Blaise’s prediction of him waiting around for Potter to do something was coming true with alacrity. It had made Draco a bit twitchy and he’d gotten a bit over eager on the wand-trigger finger more than once. In desperation Draco had taken to hanging in the library, despite the danger of running into Harry’s friends instead of Harry.

 

But wasn’t he one of Harry’s friends now too? Didn’t he have just as much right to sit there and demand to know every aspect of Harry’s life same as Granger? Draco cursed his inner weakness for deciding to play it Harry’s way and not the Slytherin way. He was so wrapped up in his own inner rantings he failed to notice the shadow that had fallen over the table he picked.

 

“Fancy meeting you here,” Draco gulped and tried to calm himself before looking up at Potter. He willed his mind to think of something an actual good friend of Potter’s might say in this circumstance.

 

“Care to join me?” he said and nearly bit off his tongue at the lusty tone that carried those simple words.

 

“Okay,” Harry smiled innocently and sat down at the chair on the end. He held his temple and was rubbing it in odd circles. This was immediately followed by a large thump as an astonishing amount of dusty volumes landed on the table. Draco feared for its stability and hoped it was well made. As the dust settled he was unsurprised to see Granger with a quill tucked behind her ear. Next to her Ron grudgingly sat down casting glares at Draco with suspicion. Draco realized he still had his work cut out for them but knew he’d never be friends with Weasley and that was fine.

 

Hermione spread out her books ignoring the fact she was hogging all the space. Ron grunted and made himself as small as possible on his end of the table. However, Hermione’s stack of tomes was largely by Draco. In order to be able to read his own textbooks he had to move into Potter’s territory.

 

So Harry was squished into a very small pocket of open space while Granger and the Weasel were suddenly separated by a wall of books. Draco took stock of his new surroundings. Harry was fidgeting and nudged his leg and feet often. Because the table was against the back corner wall, there was no way any could see either he or Harry. It appeared the Fates were having second thoughts.

 

As Harry began to realize how truly cozy their nook was, if his increased fidgeting were any indicator. His hand kept darting forward toward Draco’s face and then would just as quickly be pulled back. This occurred several times before Draco asked nervously, “Is there a problem Harry?”

 

“I – “ to Draco’s amazement Harry looked a little pink as he looked to be struggling to explain his actions. Eventually Harry just rolled his eyes. “Oh for crying out loud,” Harry lunged fully forward at last and pushed the offending strand out of Draco’s eyes and tucked it behind his ear and kept it there with a small sticking charm.

 

To Draco it was wildly intimate and his eyes closed as he tried to replay over and over how close Harry had actually gotten. Those dratted glasses that Draco had hated for years seemed to amplify the size of those emerald orbs and Draco had practically fallen into Harry’s lap. Closing his eyes was simply self-defense! Didn’t the Gryffindor have any sense of preservation at all? Couldn’t he see that Draco was already on the edge?

 

“Wow, that’s even softer than I dreamed.” Harry stared at Draco’s hair, much to Draco’s gratitude since he knew he had to be flushed from the nearness of him. “Is it all that soft?” Curious hands darted out once again and Draco fought himself tooth and nail not to lean into Harry’s hand and purr. He chalked it up to some recessive Veela genes. They all loved having their hair played with and despite the fact that no one who had touched his hair previously had caused such a reaction, Draco clung to it like a life preserver.

 

Harry smiled as he continued to play with Draco’s hair. Then he gasped and yanked his hand away as if he’d been burnt. Draco bit his lip to survive the humiliation. Surely Potter had remembered who and what, that being a 100% male, he was petting. Blaise would surely say “I told you so.”

 

Draco spent the next few minute re-reading the same passage over and over while trying very hard to ignore the brunet. He could feel Harry’s sidelong glances and when he could stand it no more he said, “Out with it.”

 

Harry chuckled at his brusqueness, not at all the reaction that Draco was used to. But then again he had to remind himself, they were now friends. “You didn’t seem to mind me doing that. I’ve never done that to anyone before. Do you let people do that often?”

 

“No,” Draco admitted with a quick look back at his book he sighed and slammed it shut. Harry grinned at this and with a look to the wall-o-bookworm he closed his as well. After all Grangers tower of tomes was blocking out the light. It wasn’t as if anyone could see them. Otherwise Draco never would have allowed Potter his …okay maybe he would have.

 

“Really?” Harry smiled. “Do you want to touch mine?” He tilted his head down and unable to resist Draco plunged his fingers into the dark locks. They were wild, thick and unruly under his fingers and quite soft. Draco knew he’d probably have to wank off the second he returned to the dorms but decided it was well worth it. After several questioning dreams that all illustrated all the varied possibilities of Potters locks, he now knew Potters hair was simply perfect; and screamed at his inner Hufflepuff to shut up.

 

Reluctantly Draco forced his fingers to stop their ministrations. Harry shot him a quizzical look. “So, was it good for you too?” He winked and Draco blinked. Was Potter playing with him.

 

“It was acceptable.” Draco finally said into the silted silence that followed as Harry reddened. A silly, goofy grin lit up Potters face. A year ago, Draco would have torn him a strip of flesh for the comment and dumb smile. But now it made his heart to a weird flutter. In an effort to keep some self-respect Draco couldn’t help the next words. “I expect everyone has touched the hair of the famous Golden Boy.”

 

Harry frowned. “No, just you. Well, it’s been roughed up a bit in play but nothing like what you did. I’m not sure what you did, but it did feel good. Actually it was making my headache go away.”

 

Now the odd circles made more sense. It must have been some bizarre muggle remedy, Draco supposed. However, despite concern over Harry’s headache Draco was not about to let an opportunity like that slip by. “I could continue if you like.”

 

 “This is true.” Harry then proceeded to put his head down gingerly on Draco’s book and wiggled a bit in his seat. Draco found himself highly amused and mentally started to compare Potter to a cat. “Okay I’m ready.”

 

“You are on my book you great prat,” Draco commented fondly while massaging Harry’s head with both hands eagerly taking part.

 

“This is loads better than fighting. Where did you learn to do that anyway?” Potter’s voice sounded sleepy and strained.

 

“My masseuse would give them to my mother when she had migraines.” Draco was hit with a wave of concern. “Do you get these often, Potter?”

 

“If I say ‘yes’ will you lay off the Potter and go back to calling me Harry?” Since he sounded a tad irritated, Draco quickly agreed and went back to the task at hand. Within minutes Potter was out cold. As Draco watched, he wriggled to find a better spot, which turned out to be half on his book and half against his chest.

 

Foolishly, Draco hoped the moment would never end. But he made sure to enjoy every second of Harry watching and nearly holding until stupid Madame Pince announced the library was closing and Granger woke Harry with a loud slamming shut of her book. Harry rolled and with a cat-like stretch sat back in his own seat. He looked at Draco with some embarrassment before touching his temple lightly. “Merlin that feels better. Thanks Draco. Any chance you’d be willing to do that again?”

 

“Absolutely.”

 

When they all left the library, Weasley was staggering under a very large pile of magically shrunken volumes. Granger was chattering on like a squirrel about something she’d read about. Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m going to head to the kitchens.” He announced and with a friendly nudge to Draco’s shoulder headed toward the stairs. After a few stairs Draco came to realize that Harry was headed to the dungeons and was walking him safely back. He tried to ignore the warm feeling it gave him, but even as he waved goodnight to the Gryffindor it settled with an odd sense of belonging into his every pore.

Part IV

I’ll still follow you home

 

Ron stared at the wall in front of him letting the colors swirl together. He tried to think of any reasons that made sense but nothing was working. Harry James Potter was his best mate. If he was, Ron gulped again, that way, why hadn’t he been more open about it? Was he that bad a friend? Yeah, the thought looking down at his fisted hands instead, he was a lousy friend.

 

Hermione sat down next to him and scratched his back. It was something she’d taken to doing when reading and secretly Ron loved it. He sighed again and she looked up at him. “What’s wrong?”

 

Ron had an internal battle over how to answer that one and finally decided the direct approach. “Did you notice anything about Harry and Malfoy in the library?”

 

In answer Hermione closed up her book and glared at Ron before putting her arms over her chest. “Please don’t tell me they were fighting again. Don’t they realize they are on the same side?”

 

Ron snorted at this and mumbled under his bed. “You have no idea.”

 

When he looked up he realized Hermione looked pissed.  “I…errr….” Ron said in his self defense and cursed his clumsy tongue.

 

Hermione smirked. “Out with it Ronald. You know I’ll get it out of you one way or another.”

 

Ron flushed at the idea of how he’d like Hermione to torture him and his mind spun down the gutter. Hermione recognized the signs and slapped him upside the head with a nearby gold pillow. “Ronald!”

 

“Aww, Hermione. I don’t even want to think about it!” He slumped over his hands again and took up staring at them as if they contained all the answers.

 

Hermione frowned. “Ron, what happened?”

 

“If Harry were to fancy boys, which would be the last one you think he’d be attracted to?” Ron asked softly so as not to be over heard.

 

“Oh that’s easy, Malfoy. They’d kill each other…” her eyes went wide. “Ron you better tell me everything.”

 

Ron nodded. “I could just make out what Harry was saying over that wall of books.” Hermione rolled her eyes. Ron ignored her and continued, “I wish I hadn’t of heard it, but it sounded like Harry was letting Malfoy touch something!” He bit his lip and shook his head. “I don’t want to think what they might have been doing. Honestly, my heart started to beat so fast, I didn’t catch any more. But there weren’t any objections! I want to be there for him, but honestly if …if-“

 

“If it’s him you don’t know if you can. Oh Ron, are you really sure? I mean, I know they’ve been watching each other but I always just figured –“

 

“Oh come on Hermione! And people call me thick! Hell, you have yourself. I’m telling you Harry has a …a thing for him. Didn’t you see the way he scotched over to sit next to him when you put the books down? Wasn’t it just a bit cozy for newly-former-enemies?”

 

“Well, I suppose they were rather quiet. “ Hermione bit on a fingernail as she pondered the possibilities. “They could have been talking about anything. We should just ask him.”

 

“Ask him? Are you bloody mental? I don’t want to know for sure until I have to!” Ron got up and sighed. “I’m going to the kitchens. Are you coming or not?”

 

Hermione frowned. “No, I have some reading to do.”

 

Ron nodded and left. But Hermione wasn’t reading, but staring up the stairs to where she knew Harry was. Was it really such a good idea Ron had keeping Harry from the truth about them?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Harry sat in the windowsill in his room as was his want. Looking out over the grounds of the castle he loved so much, he tried desperately to figure out what to do next. The Slytherin House was supporting him – well, in a sense anyway. And Draco Malfoy had never made much sense. Now it was worse.

 

He sighed, putting his chin on his fist and resting his elbows on his knees. Why were his feelings for the blond changing? Closing his eyes he saw once more Draco Malfoy kneeling to him in fealty. Other thoughts about what Malfoy could have done while he was on his knees made Harry groan in frustration.

 

Then there was the whole thing in class. How long had Ron and Hermione noticed him looking at Malfoy? Did the whole school think there was something going on besides rivalry? Was it just that? He groaned again. There was no dancing around it anymore. He wanted to spend time with Malfoy. Who was he? Certainly not his father, that was for sure.

 

And what was that whole thing in the library? Thankfully it seemed that Ron and Hermione had neither seen nor heard any of it. For crying out loud, what was he part cat petting Malfoy like that? But it was so soft and it felt so good to not have him mad at me for a change. I just don’t know what came over me acting like that.

 

Even more, Harry needed Malfoy. Just as Mal …Draco believed in him, he needed to believe in Draco. He once believed in only a wrong side and a right side. But after years of dealing with Voldemort and the Death Eaters, Harry could no longer look at things in such a black and white manner. The whole fealty thing was definitely a new color, a different shade all together – gray, he supposed.

 

Yet, Harry was decidedly a poster boy for the Light, whether he wanted to be or not. Lucius Malfoy was another matter entirely, even if he did leave the country. He was definitely a Dark Wizard. But he wasn’t fighting -

 

Harry gripped his head; a headache was starting to flare up in the front of his head. There had to be someway to ensure the safety of the Slytherins. He needed to talk to someone about forming allegiances. Would the fealty oaths be enough? Protecting Hermione and Ron was enough. Now he had all of Slytherin and Draco. What would happen if Voldemort got to them first?

 

His head pounded and his back ached from holding the stress in that was mounting up on him. The few minutes with Malfoy, though he was ashamed for just melting near the blond now, were the most relaxing he’d had in a long time. And he couldn’t help wonder if there would be any more or if it had been a one time thing.

 

 

It was a still a complete and total mystery to Harry the following day. Therefore he couldn’t let it go anymore than a dog could let go of a bone. He had to solve it a.k.a. The Malfoy Mystery. Neville had asked Harry during Herbology why he wasn’t sitting by Hermione and Ron. Harry had no clue. Were they avoiding him? He’d had a head so crammed with Malfoy that he hadn’t really noticed.

 

When the owls arrived with afternoon mail, Harry was glad for the distraction. Hedwig arrived with a letter and a small box from Gringotts. For once, he thought, it was a good thing that Ron and Hermione weren’t there. He wondered if they really were avoiding him. There was no way the nosy duo would not see him trying to get some time with Malfoy. What was going on with them?

 

Bravely, scribbling a quick note to Malfoy he penned, “Greenhouse Two after dinner.” Harry set a magic spell upon it and it disappeared only to reappear at Malfoy’s plate. As he watched Malfoy gave a quick, barely perceptible nod and Harry felt his blood quicken. Why did he want to meet with Malfoy again? What were they going to do? What would they talk about? Would Malfoy want to talk?

 

The majority of the day was spent much the same. He worried about Hermione and Ron and Malfoy, even about Snape whom he took note was not at dinner. Looking over at Malfoy he noticed the blond was less hungry than usual. Harry supposed if it was his Head of House, he’d be worried too. Hell, he had to admit to himself he was getting worried about the greasy git! That settled it. He was losing his mind. But Snape never missed dinner, everyone knew that.

 

 

Draco read the note and tried to slow down his racing heart. Then a much louder internal voice reminded him of his shame and horror of the library. He had worn his heart on his sleeve. There would be no more of that. He was a Malfoy after all. Harry Potter was nothing more than a schoolmate and fellow soldier in the war. Draco summoned up his best wall and hid behind it. After all, he was good at it. He was a Malfoy.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

After dinner, Harry headed down to Greenhouse Two. He walked slowly as he tried to set his mind toward questioning and not anything else. Surely, it was not having Hermione and Ron acting oddly that had driven him around the bend! One minute they were there for him and the next minute not! Before he was ready, he arrived at the Greenhouse.

 

Malfoy was inside trying to clean off a table with apparent disdain. “Couldn’t think of any place dirtier to meet Potter?”

 

“Err, sorry, but the Astronomy Tower is where everyone goes to snog and I couldn’t think of any place else.” Harry explained as he walked inside. He shoved the ring into Malfoy’s hand without preamble.

 

“I’m surprised you know what snogging is Potter.” Malfoy chuckled. Harry was surprised there wasn’t any malice to it. But then again he’d lost all track of exactly what to think or do as far as the blond was concerned. Even staring into his eyes he just seemed to forget everything. He dimly watched Malfoy put the ring on and smiled goofily feeling as though they were suddenly dating.

 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Malfoy asked sounding oddly distant to Harry’s ears.

 

“Huh?” Harry said stupidly as he began to lean into the blond.

 

“Potter, have you ever heard of personal space?” Malfoy asked taking a step back while looking at Harry oddly. “If you called me here to snog, I can guarantee it’s the wrong spot.” He put his arms over his chest and it seemed to wake Harry from his zone.

 

“Oh right. Um, why did you let me touch you the other day?” Harry was thrilled he’d finally asked the question that had driven him crazy for the majority of the day.

 

He turned away. “I should be insulted that you think I’d let schoolyard disputes come between us.”

 

Harry blinked. Somehow the idea of Malfoy having feelings was one he’d never really given much thought too. Deep down he knew Malfoy was human, despite all the Veela rumors. But there had never really been much of the human side of Malfoy to see over the years. He was too busy being Lucius, Jr. speaking of which, “What about your dad’s beliefs that Muggle-borns aren’t worth saving?”

 

“If you’ll take the time to notice, I’m not my father. Since Snape judges you so much on yours I’d think you of all people would be a bit more sensitive on the matter.”

 

“Okay, its one thing to get told off by Hermione, but getting a speech on feelings from you is a bit rich, isn’t it?” Harry snapped back.

 

Draco started toward the door. He wasn’t about to stand for this treatment. “If you’re here to insult me I’ve got better things to do.”

 

Harry cursed himself and one hand shot out to stop Malfoy. He grabbed the sleeve of his robe so hard the blond swung into him. “Don’t go.” But even as Harry said it Draco swung into him and they were suddenly a breath away from each other.

 

Malfoy smiled wickedly. “Oh, so you want a goodnight kiss, is that it?”

 

“Uh,” Harry said unable to really say much more past the lump in his throat. He felt a horribly heated blush race up his neck. Inwardly he cursed the amount of moonlight knowing Malfoy could easily see it. He thought of how he felt so close to Malfoy and so badly for questioning him. “I’m sorry. Can I make it up to you?”

 

“Sorry because you treated me poorly considering I’ve been attacked and pledged fealty to you that you are so keen on quickly forgetting. Or are you just sorry that you picked such a horrid place to make a pass at me?”

 

“I did-“

 

“Well, at least you admit it. I’d give you credit for the moonlight, but since that’s not your doing either I can’t really do that. I could be gracious enough to allow you this once. But next time pick out a better place.”

 

With that Malfoy left the greenhouse and Harry was more confused than ever. He watched Malfoy walk back and felt as though it would take him the rest of the week to figure out when he lost control of the conversation and exactly what he admitted.

 

 

Draco Malfoy found himself once again cursing himself. How could he be so emotional around the person whom he’d hated most of his life? It was bad enough he’d basically begged Potter to snog him. Then it hit him, adding insult to injury, that Potter had no idea what he was talking about!

 

Was the Gryffindor simply that stupid? Or was he living in a happy little bubble just ignoring everything? When Potter had invited him to the Greenhouses Draco had been sure that Potter was going to make a move on him. But he hadn’t!

 

True he was only a stupid Gryffindor, but why wasn’t he susceptible to the Malfoy charm? Draco knew he had it in spades, just like his father; after all there were plenty of girls that wanted to date him. If it wasn’t for his social status he’d probably have to pick them off like fleas. So what was wrong with Potter? Didn’t he realize that he was twisting his life into such a ball of confusion that he was thinking one thing and doing another and vice-versa? It was very un-Malfoy-like!

 

One minute Potter was affectionate and the next he was oblivious! Was this a result of hanging out with Weasley for so long? Draco remembered Blaise’s words and wondered if he really was a number to Potter. Was he just a bandwagon crush, one of thousands Boy Wonder dealt with on a daily basis? All Draco wanted to do was bash his head against the wall repeatedly.

 

Bed seemed like the best solution to everything. Denial was a wonderful place to be.

 

 

When Harry went to bed, it was a very restless sleep. Ron was snoring away in the next bed and there was a storm of confusion raging in Harry’s head and heart.  Harry spent the next few days, keeping to himself, being quiet in classes and noticing the increasing distance between he and his friends.

 

Dumbledore must have noticed his mood because he found himself the recipient for an invite to tea. Knowing there was no way out of it; Harry trudged up to the Headmaster’s office. He would have rather have talked to Neville about things. Evidently, the Headmaster must have known, because there must have been something in the tea; before Harry knew it he’d spilled his guts over the entire situation while the Headmaster simply looked amused. Harry suspected some sort of truth potion, one just strong enough to loosen his tongue but not get the old, wily man in trouble.

 

But the Headmaster assured Harry that his friends only needed space, but he still missed them terribly. Malfoy kept giving him odd looks and worse yet, occasionally flirtatious looks that made Harry blush for minutes on end. His favorite place to do so was in Potions naturally. And Potions was one where it was becoming increasingly hard to not notice his friends ignoring him. They were always together and Harry wondered dimly if they’d gotten together at long last.

 

Harry didn’t hate Snape for tormenting him in class as much as usual. That was because Snape came back visibly beaten after his last session with the Dark Lord and pity filled him. Even Madame Pomfrey couldn’t make all the welts go away, she said some had to heal naturally. Harry knew the strong, quiet man would not care for his pity so instead he made sure to make more mistakes than usual so that Snape could take it out on someone. If nothing else, it caused Malfoy to look his way. At least Malfoy wasn’t ignoring him.

 

Yet, sometimes Malfoy looked at him oddly. Clearly he knew that he was being particularly clumsy. But perhaps he understood the reasoning and decided to ignore it. Harry was just grateful he wasn’t adding to it. But he somehow felt that Malfoy looked a bit sad too.

 

The school was whispering about what had happened to Snape and most got it right, saying that Snape was on Death Eater duties. It caused a flurry of owls from upset parents demanding that Dumbledore do something. Harry wasn’t sure what had happened except that Snape still seemed to be in a good deal of pain.

 

 

At the end of two very long weeks, where he avoided the Greenhouses as best as he could for he was still too embarrassed to think of that, Hermione and Ron approached him despite previously ignoring him at every turn. It had been maddening, they acted as though nothing was wrong and they always seemed glued to each other’s sides. Where had the care and concern for him gone?

 

Irritatingly, Hermione was practically floating, it seemed she and Ron had started to talk marriage if the rumors were true and were now engaged. Harry wondered if he even cared anymore, even as he watched Ron beam and Hermione go on and on about the two of them to a few of the girl Gryffindors in the common room one night. She certainly didn’t seem to notice Harry was miffed at both at them and hurt by being made a third wheel. Why hadn’t they just told him? According to Hermione, ‘they wanted a chance to see if things would work first’.

 

Realizing, he’d look like an ass if he didn’t accept the explanation, Harry swallowed back his anger and hurt. They were there for him now, right?

 

Turning her attention fully on him, Hermione was suddenly eager to hear what had happened with the Headmaster. Bitterly, Harry wondered if her curiosity over his summons had been what made them suddenly include him on their news. Another more cynical part started to consider that the Headmaster had dressed them down.

 

Given the recent distance between them, it was the wee hours of the morning before Hermione’s pushing for an answer about the meeting until Harry saw red. She was already complaining that he had taken up precious homework time by being “stubborn and obstinate”. Harry felt a vicious stab of revenge that Hermione looked like she’d swallowed a bad Bernie Bott’s Every Flavor Bean at the thought of her grades falling.

 

Ron was deeply asleep on her lap by this time. Hermione could tell him she struck out with her interrogations. Another vicious stab of revenge hit him and dimly Harry wondered if his Slytherin side was showing itself. At least he wouldn’t have to deal with Ron’s reaction at Harry’s reluctance to share. Nor their callousness toward what he was going through. Couldn’t they see it was their faults for bringing the whole staring thing up in the first place?

 

Harry wanted to ask Hermione what to do about Malfoy but he didn’t feel like it. It was almost a contest at this point, whom he could really trust. Being made to feel he was in the wrong for not spilling the beans certainly didn’t help matters. Especially, when the two had kept their relationship from him, why did he have to overhear it in the bloody common room? Weren’t they supposed to be best friends? Was he just supposed to forget being ignored in each class, at each meal, the common room and even the dorm??

 

Angry, he stood up suddenly. “You know what Hermione? You two decided not to talk to me about what was going on and you want me to confess to you? I’ve made a decision too. This is my business and not yours.”

 

Shaking her head in exasperation, she leaned over Ron and Harry suddenly felt dismissed instead of the other way around. She kissed Ron awake before heading to bed herself muttering about boys all the while. Harry wished they hadn’t done that in front of him. It was difficult to see her tongue down Ron’s throat. Even though he’d turned away, he still saw it out of the corner of his eyes as he took the steps two at a time.

 

He felt oddly bitter, betrayed and incredibly alone, cast aside for a relationship like he’d been the one shoe that didn’t match. Maybe if it had been the first time they treated him badly it would be easier to deal. Unable to sleep, Harry tried to put his thoughts into words on paper. It was part survival, because he knew he’d just die trying to tell Malfoy he liked him in person, part fear of rejection and a burning need to say exactly what he thought about Hermione and Ron at the moment.

 

Nervously, Harry sent the letter off to Draco, wishing he’d had the support of someone he could trust. Even Neville could possibly run off to Hermione and Ron so he was out too. So he watched it go and wasn’t surprised when he had trouble sleeping again.

 

But he was confused when the mail came that morning in the Great Hall and neither Draco nor Hedwig were there. He met the concerned eyes of the Headmaster and wasn’t surprised when he was summoned to the Headmasters office after breakfast.

 

When he arrived Snape was cursing under his breath and pacing back and forth. That was when Harry remembered that Snape hadn’t been at breakfast either. A bad feeling settled in Harry’s stomach. Turning toward Dumbledore he was handed a piece of parchment in Draco’s distinctive writing.

 

Parents returned

 

Looking back up Harry was upset to see the Headmaster looking very grave indeed. “We found that this morning on Mr. Malfoy’s bed. There has been no word.” Harry didn’t have to look at Snape to know he believed Harry would be the downfall of every Slytherin who had pledged him fealty; Draco was only the beginning.

 

 

 

 

 

Part V - Up the Creek

 

Draco’s eyes popped open early that fateful day and the first thought that ran through his mind was, “Merlin, what have I done?” Panic washed over Draco like a cold tide as his mind raced along a thousand paths at once. Self-doubt assailed him and by the time Draco had hit the showers, he was powerless against it. He sank to the cold tile floor, letting let the water just run over him. Numbness crept over him, leaving him too removed to be concerned about wrinkling his skin.

 

Knowing he was all alone, because no-one else would be up at dawn on a Saturday, Draco even allowed himself the luxury of only the simplest of silencing charms and began to speak aloud to himself. He twisted his wand between his hands idly, watching the water cascade over it and seriously considered giving the Avada Kedavra a go.

 

“How bloody stupid could I have been? What must Harry think of me? Oh Merlin, tell me I didn’t pet him like a ….oh no, that’s it my life is over, just over.” He tossed the wand back up on its proper shelf. “I wonder if the Gryffindorks have a wand shelf,” he suddenly thought feeling a bit insane and even let a giggle lose.

 

“That’s it. I’m going the way of Grandfather Black – completely insane! Barmy as a thirty year mental patient, I am. Father will be so pleased. I can go insane while he rots away. I wonder what ever mother will do? Oh hell, rot mother. What am I going to do about Harry?”

 

He groaned and stared blankly at the opposite wall. “I should have taken a bath, stupid git.” Robotically he stood and turned the shower off. He put on his luxurious bath robe and headed from the Slytherin showers to the Prefects Bath, not even caring that he was already clean. What he needed was a place to think for a long period of time, even if he did get wrinkly skin from it.

 

His mind continued to race along the way. “I wonder if it’s better to talk out loud to oneself or to whisper?” Draco muttered aloud. A portrait he passed on the way of Beetle the Bard commented, “Think of the whispering fools who walk like ghouls from room to room, then think you sir of those who talk aloud to their own ear, those passing him by will think him busy of mind ‘tis true. I have a tale about just such the thing if have you the time?”

 

Part of Draco was desperate to hear the story, just to try to drown out his own doubts and securities. But the other could hear the voice of Lucius Malfoy, staring as his own sense of etiquette “One never talks with portraits at great length unless one can most assuredly be alone. It would not do to be in an obviously lengthy discourse with a two-dimensional being of paper and paint when someone sees you.” Draco did want to hear the story at some point though, maybe when his brain settled down enough to pay attention. “Perhaps later,” giving a nod of respect Draco continued on berating himself over and over for the previous day in the library.

 

When at long last, he’d slipped into his bath that smelled sweetly of the tropics his diatribe began anew. “I practically threw myself at him! Mother would have been horrified if she knew! And father! Ha! He would have served me my own bullocks for breakfast for letting my guard down. Even a First Year Slytherin would have been on their guard more than I was!” He slouched down in the tub. “In for a sickle, in for a galleon,” he sighed heavily.

 

“Granger knew; that muggle bitch had to know! I bet she was gloating! She and the Ginger headed monster were probably laughing at me on the other side of those books! Potter probably set me up.” But even as he said the last, he knew it couldn’t be true. Despite everything that Severus said about James Potter, Harry just wasn’t the same. He really was like a cat that’d been starved for affection. The thought made Draco frown.

 

“He always yells at me that I don’t know a thing about his family or his background. Could it be that he really is starved for affection? He does seem thinner after every summer. Is he really treated that badly?” A sudden wave of anger momentarily blocked out Draco’s recriminations of yesterdays’ actions.

 

Another thought hit him and just like that his thoughts went down the gutter. “But at least he comes back tan and fit!” Draco dunked his head under water and came up with a splutter of indignation. “Gods! Listen to me and take pity on me! For Merlin’s sake one second I’m upset, then angry and the next I’m grinning over Harry like a loon!”

 

“HARRY POTTER! MY HARRY POTTER!” came a chilling, horrifying, banshee-like screaming from the direction of the sinks and Draco wondered what was going on. An angry apparition swam into view and with a ghostly finger stabbed at his face over and over. “YOU STAY AWAY FROM HARRY POTTER! HE’S MINE! MINE! MINE! MINE!”

 

“Moaning Myrtle?” Draco questioned as he desperately grabbed at a hand towel to cover his privates. “What are you going on about!? He can’t be yours you great idiot, you’re dead!”

 

“Oh go ahead and just break my heart!” She wailed and a stream of chilly looking ice droplets made their way out of her eyes. “I had hoped he would get killed by that stupid Riddle boy so he could be mine, but it hasn’t happened yet.” Now she looked hopefully at Draco. “You don’t think he could actually win do you? I don’t want to wait too long; it would be nice to go to the Senior Ball sometime with an actual date instead of floating around the U-bend.”

 

“Did you die insane or did that happen after you bit the big one?” Draco snapped, working his way toward putting his robe back on as quickly as possible.

 

She sniffed indignantly in his direction. “Everyone knows that Purebloods always have insanity in their families. That explains why you think you even have a chance with MY Harry! We’ve been in the Chamber together. He wants me!” She nodded primly then smiled happily. “Mrs. Myrtle Potter.”

 

“Completely and utterly barking you are,” Draco said shaking his head as he, now robed, pointed his wand toward the apparition. “Evanesco!” Myrtle was gone with a resounding splash and chilling wail. “Whole castle is slowly going insane with her living in it.”

 

Laughter greeted his words and he turned around to see none other than Ron Weasley standing in the bathroom. Draco froze unsure of how to react. Was Weasley about to break his nose for coming onto Harry yesterday? Had he been searching for him to kill him? Would he be found dead under a Weasley pile? The headline could read “DEATH BY GINGERS”.  He managed to snap out of that off vision to clutch at his wand nervously. He inwardly cursed Potter once more. It seemed once the lid was ripped off of his emotions, it came leaking out like a bad levee. He was now completely convinced he was destined to go insane.

 

“What are you doing here Malfoy?” Ron questioned suspiciously.

 

“Leaving,” Draco replied flatly, hid his body as best he could and began to dress. He felt Ron’s eyes on him the entire time and left the room as quickly as he could. Draco made sure not to look back for fear of seeing exactly how many freckles the ginger menace had.

 

“Before you do, what exactly are your intentions toward Harry?” Ron asked nervously.

 

“My intentions?” Draco almost laughed at the absurdity of it. Wasn’t it bad enough he’d made a fool of himself in front of Potter? Now he had to deal with the Weasel? “What are you talking about?”

 

Ron crossed his arms over his chest. “I heard bits of your conversation in the library.”

 

Draco felt his face go hot. How much has the Weasel heard? “So what?”

 

“So, Harry’s my best mate and if this is some Slytherin ploy or something to try to bring your family’s reputation up –“

 

“You keep my family out of this!” Draco snapped. “If Harry wants to be friends then why should you care?”

 

“I care because he’s never been with, um, err-“ This time Ron blushed.

 

Draco blinked and shook his head. “Very eloquent, I trust Granger will write his speeches in the future and not you.”

 

Ron’s nostrils flared. “Look Malfoy, just tell me do you…fancy Harry?”

 

Draco felt his face heat and decided some questions were best left unanswered. But of course the Weasel couldn’t let it go. “If you hurt him by leading him on I’ll break you in half!”

 

Making his way quickly downstairs to the dungeons, Draco felt an odd sense of foreboding. It wasn’t the Weasel’s threat either. He tried to shake it off but to no avail. If anything it seemed to grow. Thus by the time he reached his dorm and saw his father’s eagle owl, it was practically expected it would be bad news. Had something happened in France?

 

He quickly read the letter. His parents had returned to the Manor. Or so it would seem. However, the writing seemed too hurried for his father. And the note from his mother seemed shaky instead of the artistic flair it usually carried. In fact, when Draco studied it further he took note of the straight shooting lines in his father’s writing and was sure it was written while in a great deal of pain.

 

It stank to high heaven. There was no doubt that his parents were writing this under duress. And there was only one person that Draco knew scared his normally unflappable parents – Voldemort. He needed a plan and fast. But first, he had to ditch school, get home and collect what he would need to save them without being caught. A guilty pang shot through him at the thought they were suffering because of him and he shook it off. Now was not the time to get sentimental.

 

With a sigh, he realized if he didn’t leave some sort of note Potter would run off after him in some horrifically stereotypical Gryffindor manner. He left the briefest of notes and collecting certain items from his trunk, left the school to head back to the Manor. But for once he couldn’t enter through the front door. Oh no, it was time to visit the family crypts.

 

Draco arrived at the edge of the Malfoy estates, feeling the familiar wards admit him and shrunk his broomstick to fit into his robes. His hands were chilled from the long ride and for once he was grateful for the walk ahead of him. By the time he reached the gate guarding the family crypts he had a good idea of what he needed.

 

Carefully he went from one crypt to another. It had long been tradition in the Malfoy family to be buried with a favorite weapon, spell or armor. This also ensured a secret stash of weapons that only the family could access. Thus when Draco left the crypt and entered the Manor via a secret underground entry he was armed to the teeth. Over his shoulders was an Invisibility Cloak. A short sword that could cut through metal like butter was strapped to a belt on his waist. Underneath a leather jerkin, he had chain mail that was infused with protection spells. On one finger was a ring that carried poison, another ring carried phoenix tears. Around his neck was an Egyptian asp of metal that could strike his enemies. A leather band on his left wrist was a portkey back to the crypts. All these things led to a feeling of invulnerability but the crypts also left him cold and feeling desperate to keep his parents from being laid there before the day was out.

 

Casting a silencing spell on himself along he crept along long unused secret corridors, grateful for the House Elves who had kept them clean. Eventually he reached the kitchens and despaired upon finding it nearly empty. What were the elves all doing? Carefully he made his way through the Manor hoping to stumble across them.

 

What he found instead made him ill to see. Each house elf had been murdered in gruesome and grotesque ways. Suddenly Draco felt ill-prepared to rescue his parents. Fear gripped him as tears streamed down his face seeing the loyal elves who had cared for the Malfoy family for generations. Even as he tried to tip-toe around the grisly carnage that was heaped in the middle of a hallway, he felt a ripple in the wards telling him another person had arrived.

 

“Great,” he thought to himself. He was grateful for the distraction though, as it let him momentarily forget what he’d just seen, although he suspected he’d never erase it from his mind. Turning a corner he froze and held his breath. In the center of the main parlor his father was slumped in his favorite chair. Blood dripped from his mouth and had dried on parts of his designer robes. Beside him on the loveseat his mother was still and unmoving. Draco bit his lip and tried not to cry out or something equally as foolish, like run to his mother and check to see if she was still – no, he wouldn’t even think it.

 

Looking around he saw the numerous Death Eaters scattered about the Manor. They seemed to be relishing in his father’s private wine cellar. Several were clearly intoxicated. Something turned his head and he saw his father was looking directly at him. Draco stilled his shock just in time, remembering his father’s natural ability to read auras. Of course, he’d know his own son’s by heart.

 

Almost imperceptibly, Lucius moved his head to the left. Following his father’s gaze he saw the Dark Lord who was thankfully deep in his cups and about to pass out from drink. Slowly, he moved toward the loveseat his mother was on and waiting patiently as he could until no one was looking his way he leaned over to feel for a heartbeat. Cold skin met his fingertips. He jerked away instinctively and had to jam his fist in his mouth to keep from screaming.

 

“Have faith,” Lucius whispered and Draco’s heart began to race again. How had he forgotten the asp around his neck! Her name was Faith and could easily help them out. Tapping on the necklace twice with his wand he felt it shiver into life. It slithered down off his neck and began to bite those who didn’t have Malfoy blood.

 

Before the sun came up Draco was determined that he would see his father freed. Sadness coursed through him that he’d never see his mother’s lovely blue eyes look at him again. But the moment was q            uickly wrenched away as a sober Death Eater walked into the room and saw Faith striking out to kill. “What in Merlin!?” he shouted.

 

Draco pointed his wand at the man and cast the killing curse. As the green light shot out he knew he was giving himself away, but he was grateful for all the hard work the Asp had already done. He crouched to the floor as the Dark Lord stumbled out in confusion and took in the dead Death Eaters. His eyes turned a crimson red and Draco found himself desperately wishing for some Gryffindor courage. “Where are you Potter?” the Dark Lord hissed. “Come out, come out wherever you are. Or are you too scared.”

 

Biting his tongue Draco tried to slither closer to his father to release him from his bonds and slip him some phoenix tears. He dared not speak any spells and cursed his inability to use wandless magic. So he decided to heal his father first. His father obviously could tell his location by his aura so Draco wasn’t surprised when he let his mouth drop open, feigning unconsciousness. Draco had just dropped the tears onto his father’s tongue when the spell hit him square in the back. “CRUCIO!”

 

He bit back the cry of pain as he felt blood boil in his veins as the curse took hold. A vision of Harry Potter’s smile flashed before his eyes. Regret filled the blond that he’d never see Potter again or tell him how he felt. Hell, he’d be happy to see Weasley now. Instead he heard the familiar voice of his Potions professor. “My Lord, Dumbledore and the Order have arrived at the front gates.”

 

A different fire surged through his veins one of hope. After all, what was trying to flirt with Potter if there wasn’t a rescue scene? It would appeal to his heroic Gryffindor nature. A simple smile, twisted with pain crossed his face and though the smoke and flame that surely raced along his skin for all to see Draco succumbed to darkness.

 

Dimly, he swam back to consciousness with a familiar set of green eyes looking down into his own. “You okay?”

 

“Do I look okay?” Draco heard himself snap as he sat up with a hand to his forehead. Pain was shooting between his temples and making the light in the room far too bright.

 

“Yeah, yeah you do,” Harry grinned and Draco wondered if he was still dreaming. “I don’t know why you have to be angry all the time.”

 

It was a stupid thing to say and Draco was just about to point that fact out to Harry when he was suddenly in a tight bear hug. Then Harry let him go with a silly grin and light in his eyes.

 

Another voice made itself known and just like that Harry was gone and he was being helped to his feet by Dumbledore. “Was Voldemort behind this?”

 

“Yeah, my parents-“ And Draco’s heart hit his throat. He looked over to where his father was sitting and wanted to scream when he saw it was empty. Instead he gasped and found he couldn’t breathe.

 

“Never fear, my boy, your father is just fine and Voldemort has left,” Dumbledore stated gesturing to another corner of the room where his father was looking tired and with one eyebrow raised indicated there would be a long interrogation session.

 

“Mother?” Draco asked already knowing in his heart what the answer was. His father was suddenly sheltering him from the others and Draco was intensely grateful.

 

“We require time to adjust to the news.” Lucius stated in a gravely voice.

 

Dumbledore nodded and members of the Order moved away, some clearly leaving. Draco caught Harry’s eye as he left the room and a new fear hit Draco. What if something happens to one of us next? Could I live without him too?” That broke him and he retreated back into his father’s hold and let himself go.

 

Had his mother known? Would this be the only person he regretted losing? Could he tell Potter? Somewhere along the way it was Harry in his heart. Would his recent actions be enough for Potter to know?

 

Oh shit, he was really up a creek without a paddle now.

 

Part VI - If Tomorrow Never comes

 

 

Title: Path of a Turncoat Part 6

Author: Keikokin

Beta: Dawn

Warning for a rather emotion filled chapter

A/N: Thank you so much for all your hard work Dawn!

Word count: 1644

 

 

Part 6 – Healing the Broken Slytherin

 

Draco sat silently in front of a burning fire with his father at his side. Eventually Lucius cleared his throat. “I need to make arrangements. I have to go.” Robotically Draco nodded and dimly felt the pat of his father’s hand on his shoulder.

 

He’d been in a right daze ever since they’d returned to Hogwarts. A far away recess of his mind wondered why they hadn’t gone to one of the other Malfoy properties, but at the same time he simply couldn’t muster the energy to care. His eyes glazed over as he stared listlessly into the snapping fire.

 

Mother is gone.

 

The horrible words seemed to flow through his very veins, making them cold and numb. Silent tears screamed for release, but he didn’t have the energy for that either. He cast his mind about for any distraction, but it always came back to the same point.

 

Mother is gone.

 

Draco keenly felt his father’s absence in a way he’d not done since his first lonely night at Hogwarts when he was only eleven years old. Since his mother’s death there was an emotional wall between them, even when in the same room. Standing, he made his way over to the fire and leaned against the mantle to stare at the flames more intently. How had he ever been that innocent or that young? He’d been arrogant in believing his family would escape the war unscathed, simply because they were THE Malfoys.

 

Idiot.

 

He placed his left hand on the mantle, leaning his weight against it. A wave of icy guilt flooded over him. Was it his fault she had been killed? He shook his head and combed his right hand through his hair in frustration. What he wouldn’t give at the moment for something to make the pain go away. But he knew that was futile. It might get him through the moment, but Draco knew this pain would never fully vanish.

 

Turning he saw his father at a desk writing a missive. He could practically see the wall of pain between them.  Closing his eyes, he turned away once more. Perhaps no one else outside of himself could see the pain that was now burdening his father. It was difficult to witness. Undoubtedly, he was blaming himself as well.

 

Draco wondered if a time-turner would straighten things out. What would have happened if Potter hadn’t believed him that day he’d slipped the first note about the Dark Lord’s activities? Or what if he’d chickened out in the first place? Would his mother still be alive?

 

No, Mother is gone.

 

Had she known? Did she realize how much Harry meant to him? Had she bought them all time? He supposed at this point it didn’t matter. But there was simply no denying it now. He couldn’t even manage to blame Harry for his mother’s death. The old Draco Malfoy wouldn’t have had any issues with that.

 

But Draco wasn’t the same. He knew that. His father knew it too. Even if he didn’t say it his actions spoke volumes. He wasn’t scolded for being so emotional in public. Perhaps his father was grateful for the distraction and cause it gave them both to leave the scene. As he’d put it so eloquently, they’d needed time to adjust to the news.

 

Time.

 

Was time something they really had? No. He had to find Harry and now, although he wasn’t the least bit sure why. He just had to. Lucius glanced his way as Draco made his way to the door. Their eyes caught and the silent communication that had always existed between father and son made it clear where Draco was headed. Lucius nodded in assent and Draco left to find Harry.

 

The bracing chill in the hall reminded Draco that he was indeed alive, whether it was by choice or design. He had to consciously think to walk. The simple act of one foot in front of the other seemed meaningless and odd in its sheer existence. How could simple things like this continue when…when…

 

Mother’s gone.

 

It seemed to take a million years and at the same time he was there all too soon. Gryffindor’s Fat Lady Portrait that guarded their entrance glared down at him over her fan. “Password?”

 

Draco rolled his eyes at his own stupidity. He’d been so single minded in his purpose that he’d failed to think it through. It was simply more evidence that he wasn’t functioning too well. But really what more could be expected of him?

 

Mother’s gone

 

Unbeknownst to Draco the Fat Lady had seen the sorrow on his face. Something in her tugged and was moved by the pain that was plain on his face. She cleared her throat. “Is there someone you wanted to see?”

 

Draco looked back up. “Potter?”

 

She nodded and looked at him kindly before vanishing from the portrait. The next thing Draco knew it had swung open and he walked through the tiny corridor to the Gryffindor Common Room. He was grateful to see that Harry was coming to meet him. Dimly he saw the Weasel and Granger behind him. Harry stopped in front of him. “Draco?”

 

And the words that had choked him, shook him, rattled his world and set his life forever empty in some way lodged in his throat. He began to shake and Harry stepped closer, scooping up his hands. “Draco?”

 

“Mother’s gone.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, she is. I –“ Harry began but was suddenly rocked back on his heels as Draco fairly tackled him. Harry seemed to understand. He cast a privacy shield around them, obscuring them from the view of others. Next he cast a silencing spell so no one could hear them. Then he wrapped Draco tightly in his arms and held on tightly. And if his robes needed a drying spell afterwards, neither man said a word.

 

It was with a satisfied nod that the Fat Lady returned to her painting. The other Gryffindors wandered off, whispering to each other about the Slytherin’s odd behavior and how he’d asked for Potter.

 

Eventually, Draco calmed and tried to pull away from Harry. But instead Harry pulled him to sit on the floor. “I’m sorry if I’m bollocks at this Draco. I wish I knew what to do for you.”

 

“Idiot Potter,” Draco replied with a notable lack of malice, “you already are doing it.”

 

Harry let out a breath of air. “Oh, okay. That’s good.” After a moment, he asked. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

 

Draco snorted. “You sound like –“

 

Mothers gone.

 

He gulped forcing back the pain and sorrow once more. Instead he focused on Harry. “What are we now?”

 

“What do you mean?” Harry looked very confused and Draco cursed himself for how cute he found it.

 

“Are we friends, going out or what?” Draco shot to his feet and threw his hands up in the air, while pacing the tiny space. “Everyone who isn’t too dimwitted is going to figure out my little part in this. Luckily, Faith … well, you know what I mean. What am I supposed to tell people?”

 

Harry smiled. This was more like the whiny bratty Draco he’d known for so long. It was a bit more familiar to deal with even if he had absolutely no clue how to answer. Draco needed reassurance that much was clear. He couldn’t even mention or think of death without going ten kinds of pale. “What do you want Draco?”

The blond stubbornly shook his head. He could still remember quite well what a fool he’d made of himself in the library and after everything that happened…

 

Mother’s gone.

 

Voldemort was still out there somewhere. Would he and his father be protected? What did he even have to offer Potter? He was simply a turncoat. They’d played a small but important part in the war and paid the ultimate price.

 

Mother.

 

Undoubtedly there would be others to play a part in Potter’s war against the Dark Lord. Would Potter even want him around in the dark times to come? Would he be one follower of many, who lost his heart to the Gryffindor?

 

Warm, calloused hands cupped his face. “Hey, you okay?”

 

“I’m working on it.” Draco snapped tiredly. Suddenly he felt so tired, so alone. If he was like this, how was his father faring? He should head back soon. Part of his brain was pondering the question as to how much his family would pay for his actions. He looked away, but didn’t pull away from the warm hands holding him.

 

“Draco. I’m sorry.” During the course of his life, Draco always found such words to be an irritation of sentiment, nothing compared to losing someone. He cringed inwardly, not expecting Harry to patronize him, especially at a time like this. 

 

 

Mother.

 

“I really am, Draco. I understand.” Guilt slammed into Draco. All the years of tormenting Harry about being an orphan but now that he was halfway there himself it took on new meaning. Layers of significance had been placed upon those softly spoken words.

 

“Harry, I’m sorry I was such a git about, well –“

 

Shaking his head, Harry pulled Draco unresisting into his arms. “Stupid Slytherin.” After a moment’s pause he added, “It doesn’t matter now does it?”

 

“No.”

 

Mother, thought Draco.

Mum, thought Harry.  

 

Their eyes met and Harry cocked his head slightly. “Tell you what, let’s go find your dad. I’ll wind him up on some point about Muggles.”

 

Draco figured out pretty quickly that consoling Lucius Malfoy wasn’t really high on Harry’s list of things to do. It was obvious that he was doing it for him and Draco felt warmth suffuse him. As Harry leaned in and gently placed his lips over his own Draco felt the cold on the outside melt away with warmth on the inside.

 

Neither noticed as a set of windows opened in the Gryffindor common room causing the curtains to flutter as if someone had passed through them.

 

Title: Path of a Turncoat Part VII

Author: Keikokin

Pairing: H/D

Word count: 1215

Authors note: I figure the next chapter will be the last or next to it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Harry took him by the elbow and very deliberately steered him toward where his father should be. He assumed, and correctly that Lucius was being checked over by Madame Pomfrey. He and Draco could hear how aggravated over his treatment from down the corridor.

 

The elder Malfoy was fully dressed and storming away from the woman as they entered. “Draco, what excellent timing you have. I was just leaving.” His eyes spoke of more and a silent communication seemed to flow between them.

 

Harry watched Draco nod. “Yes, of course, we need to go back to the Manor and set things to right.”

 

Lucius gave a slight nod of appreciation that Draco did not state aloud that they had to return ancestral weapons to their crypt. It was information that only Malfoy family members should know. But his brows soon furrowed as he noticed how close Harry Potter was standing to his son. As if he could feel this gaze, Harry looked up with a jerk into the man’s eyes. At that instant it all clicked while Lucius watched Harry look at Draco in apparent relief and Draco smirk weakly in understanding, still clearly upset over his mothers’ death. Nevertheless, progress had indeed been made.

 

Yet there were matters that needed to be attended, such as a service for Narcissa. It was time to go.

 

 

Draco and his father restored the weaponry back in the hands of those who had once owned them. There was a brief glow of magic, before the dust settled once more. The two surviving Malfoys looked at each other. Draco cleared his throat. “Father, how will peace be maintained at the Memorial for –“Draco’s throat closed up around the words.

 

Lucius pulled his son into his arms for a quiet moment. The two usually solid men felt the weight of their emotions overcome them for a brief period of time. They allowed it simply because they were completely alone with no chance for interruptions. Only Malfoys could enter here. “I think we can turn this to our advantage Draco, so that Narcissa’s death will have some purpose.”

 

Draco looked into his father’s eyes with understanding. “Use her as bait?”

 

“Hmm, I’m not sure I’d phrase it in that manner. It’s clear that time with Potter has rubbed off on you.” Lucius turned to walk toward the door. “We might as well let the Order know to prepare for him to be there. If nothing else, he’ll not waste the opportunity to try to kill us both.”

 

A chill went down Draco’s spine at his father’s casual mention of the Dark Lord being out to kill. He hurried his step and was grateful when they emerged from the morbid place. Lucius started to walk toward the Manor with measured steps. “How are things between you and Mr. Potter?”

“My friends and I swore fealty to him.” Draco stated instead of answering the question he realized his father was truly asking.

 

“I trust they can all lend a wand by being present at the service?” Lucius adapted to the new subject with practiced ease. Draco nodded. “Sunrise tomorrow.” Draco expected this, most pureblood families liked to have the burial done within a day if possible. At least if it was at sunrise, he would only lose sleep tonight and not dread it all the next day as well.

 

But Lucius was nothing if not tenacious. “Have you seduced him into your bed yet?” With amazing speed his hand shot out and he grabbed his son’s hand. He jerked the hand up to examine the ring that Harry had given him.

 

Draco snapped. “I won’t risk losing him by telling you either way.”

 

Lucius dropped his son’s hand like a stone. “Fine Draco. Have your little romance if you so wish, just make sure he and his precious Order are all there.”

 

When they came to the Manor, Lucius went inside to tend to details, such as finding a whole new house-elf staff and the service. Draco left to return to school to check with the Slytherins. He was definitely not in a rush to see Harry again. Definitely not.

 

 

Draco found Harry leaving the Headmasters Office and looking disgruntled. But upon seeing him Harry smiled broadly. “Did everything go okay?”

 

“As well as can be expected, what’s going on with Dumbledore?” Draco inclined his head toward the gargoyle statue.

 

“He was trying to get me to convince the Slytherins to swear allegiance to him, instead of to me through you.” Harry shrugged. “I told him, it didn’t matter and that we would be ready when needed.”

 

“That would be sunrise tomorrow morning at Malfoy Manor. Father expects that the Dark Lord will be there. So it would be best for everyone to arrive early and take cover.”

 

“Are you really okay with this? I mean, it’s your mom’s –“

 

“Father and I both agree it will bring some meaning to her death.” Draco looked away and Harry could plainly see how much it was bothering him, but if Lucius Malfoy thought Voldemort would be there he was probably right.

 

They walked down the corridor in silence for a bit, dodging the occasional herd of students that swept by. After a bit they were alone again and Harry turned to Draco, placing one hand on Draco’s waist and gently tugging. Draco didn’t fight it and soon they were hip to hip. Harry breathed into Draco’s ear, “When all this is over, I still want to be with you.”

 

An intense fireball of gratitude, caring and desire swept over Draco and he cupped the back of Harry’s neck and pulled until their lips sealed together. Harry moaned into it and pulled more firmly on Draco’s hip until he had a handful of Draco’s ass instead. He squeezed it gently making his intentions clear. Draco was smiling even as he was kissing Harry and nudging his thigh in between Harry’s legs.

 

The sound of another student herd coming eventually caused them to take a step back. But it was clear by the giggling of the girls that they had outed themselves, in case no one had figured it out already.

 

Draco started to pull away to walk some more when Harry asked. “Do you want that too?” The blond was surprised to hear how unsure and nervous the Boy Who Lived sounded. He stopped walking to look seriously at Harry. “I do.”

 

Harry blinked at the phrase, thinking immediately how it sounded like a wedding vow.

 

“Yes, Potter exactly like that if you wish. Malfoys are not known for having relationships in the public eye without being truly serious about them. There’s too big a risk for public humiliation. If you and I were to reach that level -”

 

Draco left the rest unsaid but hanging in the air. He was surprised to see Harry smile the biggest smile he’d ever seen on anyone. “Do you understand?”

 

“I do,” Harry replied with a goofy grin.

 

Unable to resist, Draco stepped back into Harry’s space and kissed him, pulling gently on his bottom lip teasingly. “Oh you will.” With that Draco turned and said, “See you bright and early on the front lawn.”

 

Harry groaned at the reminder and heard Draco snicker softly in reply.

 

 

 

Title: Path of a Turncoat Part VIII

Author: Keikokin

Beta: Shannon

Status: WIP

A/n: This is getting really, really close to being done!!! Woo hoo. If you want to see anything in this you better let me know now folks!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his universe are owned by JK Rowling and her publishers and so forth. No maliciousness was intended with this fictional parody.

 

 

A deep mist covered the dew covered grass as dawn broke at Malfoy Manor. As the sun made its appearance, two figures stood side-by-side. Harry squinted through the heavy mist and was taken aback by how much Draco and his father looked alike. Two last members of what had been a long pureblood legacy. If Draco didn’t carry on the family line, it would end with him. It was something he and Draco both had in common.

 

Harry continued to watch Draco and his father approach. Each step caused the mist to part around their feet in swirling eddies. It was oddly surreal. Yet, Harry thought, it was an entrance befitting a Malfoy, doubly so now.

 

Members of the Order of the Phoenix, including Harry, had arrived in the chilly, pre-dawn hours. Soon after, those who’d sworn fealty began to arrive and took to the shadows as well. To anyone else it would appear as though only Harry, the Malfoys and Narcissa were there.

 

Harry’s eyes moved unbidden to gaze at the coffin of Narcissa Black Malfoy. The mist flowed over it and around it as it lay before the Malfoy Family Tomb. At long last, the Malfoys stopped walking. Lucius was moving to the head of the coffin and Harry as the rear. Harry’s hand slipped around Draco’s lending his strength to the other. He cast a questioning glance at Draco who gave a slight nod to indicate this was permissible. Nevertheless, Harry kept their entwined hands hidden in the folds of their robes, not realizing or caring if Lucius knew or not. He may have been less concerned with appearances had he known the older Malfoy did indeed know and cared little. Especially now, he looked so alone, the fight gone from his eyes. Harry lowered his head, unable to bear the abject sorrow the man was exuding.

 

Lucius rang a gong, breaking Harry’s thoughts. Harry hadn’t even noticed the gong in the thick mist. Though slightly overgrown with vines, it still worked rather well, Harry thought. He had to fight the urge to stick his finger in his ear and twist. From deep within the tomb a ghostly figure emerged. Long, glowing hair fell gracefully down its back. Dress robes seemed to flow around its shimmering form. It turned toward Lucius and bowed deeply. In a rather formally in a hollow, yet aristocratic voice it said, “Who joins us?”

 

“Narcissa Black Malfoy, wife of Lucius, mother of Draco.” Harry felt Draco’s grip tighten and couldn’t blame him one bit. He could admit he was a bit freaked out by the whole affair as well.

 

The ghost extended a hand toward the casket and it rose with hands, arms and then bodies that sprung forth from the ground. He lowered his arm when the casket was surrounded by ghostly pall bearers. Harry shivered. Would his funeral be like this? He felt Draco squeeze his hand and was grateful for the reassurance it gave both ways.

 

“Welcome Narcissa Black Malfoy, wife of Lucius, mother of Draco.” With these words spoken by the spectral guardian, the mist shifted again around the casket until it came together forming the ghost of Narcissa Malfoy standing gracefully before the gates.

 

She turned to Lucius with a sad smile. “I’ll wait for you.”

 

Harry felt Draco literally quake with emotion beside him, so he moved a bit closer to support Draco around the waist – appearances be damned. A moment later, Narcissa turned to look at Draco, and Harry could have sworn he saw a flash of gratitude in her cold eyes when she saw the action. But her eyes were riveted to her sons’. “I’ll be watching.” It was as she touched her heart and then her lips, blowing a kiss to each surviving Malfoy, the sound of multiple cracks signaling apparition filled the air.

 

Lucius and Draco exchanged had looks of equal horror written all over their faces. It chilled Harry to the bone that they’d shown so much emotion this day. But weren’t they expecting this? Yet, suddenly Draco rushed toward his mother’s ghost and his father was speaking to her already in rushed, quiet tones.

 

This only added to Harry’s bewilderment since both Malfoys had sworn to battle in this sunrise confrontation. Blocking it out, Harry turned, wand out to join in the battle already under way. Smoke, sparks and blazing blasts of various colors soon filled the area. Harry felt his resolved hick in when he saw an all too familiar green light and engaged the nearest Death Eater in a duel. Through the din, part of Harry’s hearing picked up the sound of Draco’s terrified screaming. He allowed his senses to reach out, but found the duel to be distracting. Ending it quickly he rushed back the Malfoys.

 

Skidding to a halt by the coffin he was horrified to see Narcissa seemed to be dissipating along with the mist. “What the hell is happening?”

 

Lucius looked toward him desperately, “The magic on the tomb is old, fragile and cannot handle the influx of this!” He gestured toward the battle. “It has to stop or she’ll be ..” the look in Lucius’ eyes was enough. Harry reached out with his magic and felt the tomb’s magic crumbling. Running forward he touched the old stone wall and forced his magic into the wall. Seeing what he was doing, Lucius added his hand to the wall, then Draco.

 

Trapped by one hand on the tomb as they lent magic to it to cross Narcissa over, they looked at the battle that drew dangerously close to their position. Out of the mist, a figure tumbled toward them then rose quickly to his feet, wand out. He looked at them briefly and Harry was thrilled to see it was Mr. Weasley. “Weasley help me!” Lucius yelled out. “Get Potter out there!”

 

Arthur looked back and really seemed to take it all in for the first time. It was then that Harry recalled Arthur was a pureblood too. His eyes shone with sudden understanding. “Good Lord man!” He raced to the wall and put his hand on it. Harry felt Arthur push him away. “Go get him Harry!” Then he looked at Lucius, deep understanding of loving a woman this deeply flowing through them both, “I’ll stay.” Draco sighed in relief and with a small nod toward Harry, watched him race toward the battle.

 

It didn’t take him long to clear a path of Death Eaters. The students who’d pledged fealty were only too glad to let him take the lead in fighting and moved quickly aside. The Order members had already engaged the top ranking Death Eaters, leaving the younger ones to the students.

 

“Hello Tom, you’ve come at a very bad time and I need to kill you now.”

 

“Ha! You helped them preserve that Malfoy bitch and your magic will be gone!” Voldemort cackled. “This time your stupid love for others will be your undoing!”

 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Honestly, who talks like that?” His sarcasm caused Voldemorts temper to flare and he cast the Killing Curse hitting Harry square on the lightning bolt that had forever marked the Boy Who Lived. Harry screamed out at the blinding, terrible agonizing pain that made him wish for death to take him. He crumpled to the ground, hearing Tom’s laughter as he hit the dirt.

 

Closing his eyes, he saw his mother’s face smiling proudly. Next he saw his fathers and a voice saying. “We are so proud of you and you’ve come full circle.” And suddenly as if a switch had been thrown, all the pain in Harry’s body seeped into the earth and he felt his magic roar to life. He smiled as he sat up feeling better than he had in a long time.

 

Harry wanted to laugh at Tom’s stunned expression. “How!?!” he screamed in outrage. “This isn’t possible! Not again! You have to be dead!”

 

Harry shrugged with a grin. “Who cares?” He pointed his wand stating plainly. “Ava-“ Harry smirked then pointed his wand again, “Accio Harry Potter’s blood.”

 

Voldemort screamed clutching at this chest where rivulets of Harry’s blood had started to form drops that flew toward Harry covering him in blood. Harry continued to smile as Voldemort eventually turned back into the simpering, sickening form he’d been before he’d stolen Harry’s blood. “Accio stolen Unicorn Blood.” Harry heard Hagrid say angrily from behind him, grateful to know he had a good friend at his back.

 

The screaming continued until Voldemort rose in a ghostly form. A new voice now yelled above the gloom. “Thomas Riddle!”

 

Around them the battle seemed to stop as Narcissa shot forward from the tomb and with a whirl of ghostly smoke, Tom’s remaining spirit faded from the world.

 

Harry stood in shock. It was over. There wasn’t even dust to show for it either. When Draco’s arms wrapped around him holding him tightly, he still stood in shock.

 

Around them the battle ended, Narcissa crossed over with a triumphant wave to all, making the only kind of exit a lady of her social standing could, a grand one.

 

 

Title: Path of a Turncoat, Part IX – the epilogue

Author: Keikokin

Beta: Shannon

Rating: PG

Warning: Dumbledore bashing continues and this is the last part! 
 

Dumbledore put the copy of the Prophet on his desk. There were several headlines that day: 

Harry Potter and the Malfoy Heir fight together against Voldemort! 

Half-giant gets vengeance for Unicorns! (Warning for graphic violence) 

Forbidden love on the front line triumphs over evil, Dark Lord Dead! 
 

A small item about how the Order of the Phoenix helped in the fight along with others was placed on the back page. Albus wasn’t even mentioned. Did anyone understand what he’d done to bring this about?  

With a graceful nod, Lucius Malfoy entered the room with a few Aurors and some of the Slytherins who’d sworn Fealty. Albus paled. “What’s all this about?”  

“By decree of the entire school board, I hereby remove you from this office.” Lucius smirked. Albus was speechless and shakily sat in his chair. “I imagine you’ll want to know why?” He nodded mutely. “For intentionally allowing one of the students to be physically, mentally and emotionally abused in a home you handpicked. I think you’ll recognize his name? Does Harry Potter strike a bell?”  

Albus sighed and lowered his head. “Indeed it does.”  

“Take him away,” Lucius ordered with barely controlled glee. The Aurors moved forward and the students glared at their now former Headmaster. As one they turned to escort him out as well, showing Albus their solidarity in his sentence, their loyalty to Draco and through him to Potter was now complete. Fawkes cried out and in a flash of flame disappeared from the room. Abandoned even by his closest and beloved Phoenix, Albus knew his time at Hogwarts had ended.

 
 

Meanwhile, Draco and Harry had been talking together in the Manor. “I should have quit you a long time ago. Now look where it’s gotten me, splattered across headlines in the Prophet!” He tossed the newspaper at Harry, where he sat at the edge of the bed, looking pensive.

 

Harry rolled his eyes. “You love it.”

 

“Face it, without the Slytherins you never would have pulled it off.” Draco looked sternly at Harry waiting for a reply.

 

Harry shrugged. “Everyone helped. I’m not going to deny it.” With an impertinent grin, he leaned over and kissed Draco quickly. Clearing his throat, Draco tried to ignore how much the peck meant to him. Part of him had still worried when it was all over Harry would not want him around. Luckily, Harry was too Gryffindor for that. Instead Draco reached out and pushed the hair out of Harry’s face. The gesture had been one he’d wanted to repeat since their time in the library. Harry sighed happily leaning into it. “So where do we go from here? Do we even know who the new Headmaster is going to be?”

 

“Does it matter?” Draco surely didn’t seem to care. His hands were now combing through Harry’s wild locks in a very possessive and caring way. It was a promise of what was to come.

 

“Do you think we’ll ever have sex?” Harry asked curiously. Draco hadn’t even tried to take things further. Not that there’d been a chance.

 

“OH yes,” Draco purred. “When the time is right.”

 

“You act like we’re going to be together a long time.”

 

“Did you think that father would let you rest up at the Manor after the battle? Don’t you think he’s grateful for what you did for Mother?” Draco’s voice was still shaky with what had almost happened. “He meant what he said about taking care of things for you.”

 

Harry shrugged. “What do you think he meant by that?”

 

“If we’re lucky, he’s moving Dumbledore out of there now.” Draco took a moment to look at his nails, while carefully eyeing Harry’s reaction. The brunet looked weary and covered his face with his arm, lying back down on the bed behind him. “We’ll go back tomorrow and –“

 

“No.”

 

“What?” Draco stared in disbelief. He lay back on the bed and stared up in disbelief at the canopy.

 

“I’m not going back Draco. I don’t belong there and I don’t want to deal with how everyone will treat me now. The press will be waiting at the gates of the school and everyone will want to give an interview saying they are my best friend.”

 

Draco couldn’t really argue with that. There was certainly precedence for it. “What will you do?”

 

“Ahem.” Both boys sat straight up to see Draco’s father in the doorway. “I couldn’t help over hear your conversation. I’ve taken the liberty of setting up tutors to finish schooling for both of you.”

 

Draco blinked. “Father?”

 

“The press is already at the school. They seem to be quite desperate to get a picture of your ‘Forbidden Love’.” He smirked at the groans from the boys. “It will be quite impossible for either of you to go anywhere for some time. You also seem to have quite a fan club.” His eyes bore into Harry’s. “They seem very excited about the idea of you two together.”

 

The boys looked at each other nervously. “Father –“

 

Lucius held up a hand and looked at Harry once more. “I can never repay you for what you’ve done for this family. Despite all claims to the contrary, I hold my family in the deepest regards. If you’ve chosen to remain here as a part of it, with Draco’s consent of course, who am I to deny you?”

 

“Wizard’s debt?” Draco questioned his father.

 

“A father can never do enough for his son.” Lucius left the room, just as suddenly as he appeared, his robes swirling behind him.

 

Draco remained quiet and Harry struggled for the right words. “I’ll have to thank him.”

 

A frown crossed Draco’s forehead. “Whatever for?”

 

“For allowing you to choose your own path, ” Harry pulled Draco close, holding him tightly.

 

“The path of a turncoat?” Draco snorted unhappily.

 

“The path that brought you to me, strange notes and all,” Harry grinned and kissed Draco. There might still be hurdles to face, but as long as this path didn’t change maybe – just maybe all his dreams for peace, love and family could finally come true.

 

And maybe, they just had.