Fran's Archive: About Two Boys (Complete)
About Two Boys was originally written as a series of drabbles posted daily during December 2006. It is posted here in its complete form so I can put one link in the memories section.
Each part has two 100-word drabbles, linking Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter’s lives in a moment from each year starting with their births and ending twenty-six years later on New Year’s Day 2007.
Word count: 6000 words.
Rating: PG in the early parts, leading to R in later parts.
Warnings: Suggestion of non-con. Homosexual relationship.
Birth
“At least its a boy. One should be grateful for small mercies.” Lucius Malfoy stared down at the mewling bundle with its screwed up face and loud piercing tears.
“I told you I would give you an heir, Lucius.” Narcissa gestured at one of the house-elves who scurried to pump up her pillows. “Now get out of my bedroom.”
With a sardonic raise of an eyebrow, Lucius gave a small laugh. “Nothing will please me more, my dear Narcissa.” He strode towards the door and gestured at the nurse. “Bring my son. I’m sure his mother needs her beauty sleep.”
*
“What are we going to call him? He was supposed to be a girl.”
Lily smiled and snuggled back against her husband as she held the baby to her breast. “You thought he was going to be a girl, which will teach you to believe in predictions and soothsayers. I, on the other hand just expected a baby.” She leaned forward and gently kissed her son on the forehead.
"But he needs a name.” James pulled back the baby blanket and with awe touched soft baby skin. The boy waved his little fist and grabbed hold of his father’s finger.
One
“Happy birthday, Draco.” The Dark Lord ran a finger down the pale cheek and watched as the tiny chin quivered just a little. “No tears on your first birthday.” He gestured with a hand and the baby calmed as the magic passed over him. “He shows his heritage already, Lucius. The next generation of Death Eaters in the making.”
“Of course, my Lord.” Carefully Lucius took the boy back. Draco scrambled into his arms, burrowing into his chest and he knew his son was sucking his thumb. He would have to get Severus to brew a potion to stop him.
*
“ ‘I will forgive you on one condition,’ said the Beast, ‘that is that you will give me one of your daughters’.” Lily smiled as she saw Harry’s eyes were drooping. Careful not to disturb him, she closed the book.
“He’s a little young for fairytales.” James reached for his son and watched as Harry snuggled into his chest. “Especially ones about giving your children away.” He felt the boy’s breathing change as Harry dropped into sleep.
Lily came to her feet and gathered her two men into her arms. “Well, no one’s ever going to take our Harry away.”
Two
“You were never under Imperius, Malfoy.” Barty Crouch tossed the release order onto the desk. “You’re free to go, but I’m watching you.”
Lucius smirked as he picked it up. He felt the tug of a Portkey; Azkaban disappeared and he was back at the manor.
“Narcissa!”
She hurried to greet him. “Thank Salazar. I was beginning to think the worst.”
Lucius pulled her into a kiss. “I told you we’d get through this.”
“Daddy!” A small blond fury grabbed at his leg.
“Well, look who’s here.” He swept Draco into his arms. “Look how well my favourite boy’s walking.”
*
“This is all your sister’s fault. Getting herself killed!” Vernon scowled at the child (he refused to think of Harry as in any way related to him) as it waddled around the lounge. “All these interfering busybodies poking their noses into our business.”
Petunia slapped at the child’s arm as it reached for one of Dudley’s stuffed toys. Harry’s chin trembled, green eyes filling with tears. She turned away. “Do you think I want him here? We don’t have a choice.”
“He better not start doing…” Vernon lowered his voice, “...magic. I’ll beat it out of him if need be.”
Three
“Mrs Malfoy, he’s an angel.” Madam Malkin crouched down and stroked Draco’s slightly chubby cheek. “All those blond curls. He looks like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.”
Draco grabbed at her finger, “No!” and sank his teeth into the offending digit.
“Ouch.” Pulling her finger free Madam Malkin feigned a smile. “The little scamp.” She’d like to bite the brat back, that would teach him how much it hurt, but the Malfoys were good customers.
Narcissa Malfoy smiled indulgently at her son. “You made a set of dress robes for my husband. I want an identical set for Draco.”
*
“Ouch!”
“Stand still!” Petunia grabbed the scruff of Harry’s neck. “I’m going to brush your hair whether you like it or not!” She tugged the brush through the thick mane of black hair in a fruitless attempt to tidy it.
“It hurts!”
“Then you shouldn’t have hair that’s always a mess.” It didn’t matter what she did, the boy’s hair always looked like he’d just got out of bed. “I should cut it all off!”
“No!” Harry grabbed for her wrist and sank his teeth into it. “No!” He scurried away.
“You little monster! Wait until your uncle gets home.”
Four
“I want it!” Draco grabbed at the toy heffalump Greg Goyle was playing with.
“It’s mine!”
“I want it!” Draco pushed the other boy who tumbled to the floor.
As the two boys argued, Abraxas looked on with an approving smile. He’d been worried that Narcissa was going to turn his grandson into a mummy’s boy, but he could see the Malfoy spark in Draco after all. Perhaps it was time for him to make sure Draco understood his true heritage.
“Draco.” The boy looked at him, holding the heffalump like a prize. “Come and show me your new toy.”
*
“Now, what would you like for Christmas?” The plump boy thrust a list at Father Christmas and began reciting what was on it. Father Christmas listened with incredulity. “Have you been a good boy?”
“Of course he has.” The boy’s mother looked mortified that her son should be anything else.
“And what about you?” He smiled down at the little dark-haired boy hiding behind the woman’s legs.
The child gave a shy smile, and held out a scrap of paper, but the woman grabbed it. She screwed it up, dropping it to the floor. “He’s been naughty and gets nothing.”
Five
“Draco, I have a present for you.” Lucius watched as his son instantly forgot the painting he’d been diligently working on. Scrambling to his feet, Draco raced across the playroom to his father’s side.
“Show me.” Draco’s eyes lit as he bounced with excitement. “What is it?”
Crouching down, Lucius held out his clenched hand. “You must ask politely. Only Muggles and Mudbloods shriek and shout.”
Draco suddenly stilled and with a little huff said, “Please may I see what you’ve brought me, father?”
“Of course.” Lucius opened his fingers and fluttering on his palm was a tiny Golden Snitch.
*
Harry found it in the garden.
He’d been looking for pebbles when he found it poking out of a lump of dirt. He liked pebbles...flat, smooth ones and sharp pointy ones. He’d line them up on the grass to see the different shapes. But Dudley always ruined everything by kicking them all over the place.
The lump of dirt contained a large glass marble with green and white insides. Cleaning it on his sleeve, he held it up to see it glisten in the sun.
Quickly he pocketed it. If Dudley saw it he’d make Aunt Petunia take it away.
Six
“Where’s Draco?”
Narcissa looked up from her tapestry. “Dobby’s getting him ready for bed.”
“Good. Some things are not meant for the ears of a six-year-old.”
“You talked to Igor?”
“Yes. He’s heard the same rumours about sightings of the Dark Lord.”
The needle slipped from her fingers. “We need to know...for Draco’s sake.”
“For all our sakes. Unfortunately the only person who knows what happened at Godric’s Hollow was spirited away by that fool Dumbledore.”
“Is it possible to extract memories from a child that young without damaging him?”
Lucius shrugged. “It will be interesting to find out.”
“Mrs Dursley!”
Petunia grimaced at the sound of her name being called across the classroom. She turned to the offender, a woman who didn’t look old enough to be a teacher. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry to bother you, I wonder if I could talk to you about Harry.” The teacher pointed to where the boy was sitting at his desk engrossed in a book with his nose almost touching the pages.
“I might have known.” Petunia looked skyward. “What has he done now?”
“Oh, nothing. Has Harry ever had his eyes tested?”
“His eyes?”
“Yes. I think he might need glasses.”
Seven
“What are you reading, Draco?” Lucius sat beside his son.
“About Lord Voldemort.”
Lucius raised an eyebrow. “We don’t say his name.”
Enquiring grey eyes looked at him. “Why?”
“Because of our respect for a great and powerful wizard. You may call him the ‘Dark Lord’ here in private, but in front of strangers refer to him as ‘He Who Must Not Be Named’.”
Draco frowned thoughtfully. “Then is it okay to say Harry Potter’s name? Isn’t he even more powerful because he killed Vold...you know...him?”
“Harry Potter is a child.”
The frown deepened. “Harry Potter could be my friend.”
*
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing.” Harry turned away, shielding his drawing from Dudley who ruined everything.
“Show me.” Dudley grabbed at the paper, tugging so hard that it ripped in half.
“I hate you!” Harry pointed his crayon at his cousin.
Dudley stumbled backwards as if punched. “Daddy! He’s doing it again!”
“No supper and you stay in there all night!” Vernon shoved Harry into the cupboard under the stairs. He could hear little sobs from inside. “You know, Petunia, the boy could sleep in there permanently.”
Petunia slid the bolt into place. “Well, Dudleykins does need some extra room.”
Eight
“I am going to teach you some special magic, Draco.” Lucius held out his wand. “Here.”
With a look of awe, Draco held out a trembling hand. “Can I really?”
“Of course, but this is our secret. You must tell no one.”
“Not even mother?” Draco’s fingers curled around the wand’s handle. It felt much heavier than he’d expected.
“Your mother knows, but it’s important that others don’t find out. They see magic only as black or white...good or evil. But power is the key. That is what I am going to teach you, Draco, the power of Dark Magic.”
*
“It’s not fair, Albus.” Arabella Figg stared at the boy who was sitting forlornly on a swing. “You can’t want him to live like this.”
“It’s for his own good, Arabella.” Albus Dumbledore gave a heartfelt sigh. “He needs the protection offered by his family.”
“But not like this. They’re horrible to him.” She pointed, hand gesticulating. “Look at his clothes. And they make him sleep in a cupboard I wouldn’t let my cats live in.”
“But the magic....”
“Oh, fiddlesticks, Albus.” She wiggled her finger at him. “You could protect him elsewhere...you know you could. So why don’t you?”
Nine
“And I flew up until I was higher than the trees,” Draco all but danced around his father as he excitedly told his story. “And guess what.”
“What, Draco?”
“This HUGE helicopter suddenly appeared and you should have SEEN the look on the Muggle’s face.” Draco mimicked the person he’s seen...eyes wide, mouth open. “I think he screamed but I couldn’t hear because of all the noise. Can I have an ice cream?”
Torn between admonishing the boy and laughing at his antics, Lucius nodded. “I believe Fortescue’s will be open but first we must get your mother’s birthday present.”
*
Harry had been trailing behind his aunt and cousin when the man stopped directly in front of him. Of course, he was used to strange people in Little Whinging; Uncle Vernon said they were all useless...just like Harry.
But this man was different. He was wearing a magenta cape and when he reached for Harry’s hand it was as if he’d known Harry all his life.
“Do you know me?” Harry gripped the man’s hand, desperate for an answer. “Please!”
The man smiled. “Of course, you’re Harry Potter.”
And with a wink, he pulled free and went on his way.
Ten
“I won’t allow it. His name’s been down for Hogwarts since he was born, just as our names and our parents name were.”
Lucius watched his wife tear the Durmstrang letter in half. “It will make a man of him.”
Narcissa pointed her wand, setting fire to the remains of the letter. “He’s not going to Durmstrang. I will not have him sent thousands of miles away for seven years.”
“He’ll learn real magick there...the Dark Arts. He wants to go.”
“Only because he thinks you want it. He’ll do anything to please you, including going to that god-forsaken place.”
*
“Isn’t it exciting, Diddykins. You’ll be going to daddy’s school.”
Harry watched as his aunt tried to hug his cousin while Dudley tried to push her away. His uncle had a stupid grin on his face and was patting Dudley on the head.
“Clever boy, Dudders. Smeltings will be the making of you.”
Harry cleared his throat. “What about me?”
All three Dursleys turned to stare at him. It was Uncle Vernon who finally spoke. “You?”
“Am I going to Smeltings?”
“You? Go to Smeltings?” Uncle Vernon barked a laugh. “You’ll go to Stonewall High and be grateful for it.”
Eleven
Draco stared out of the window. The others had ignored him since his outburst of “Leave me alone!”
He was very confused by what had happened at the other end of the Hogwarts Express. He was a Malfoy. People liked him; they wanted to be his friend.
So why had Harry Potter turned him down? Hadn’t Draco been polite to him? Offered to help Potter meet the right people rather then the likes of Weasley?
He scowled at his reflection in the glass. He would get his own back. No one snubbed a Malfoy, not even the Boy Who Lived.
*
Harry sat cross-legged on his four-poster bed listening to his new friends talk about Quidditch and football and magic. The excitement of the Sorting and then the Feast had turned into a feeling of pleasant sleepiness. Being at Hogwarts felt like he’d come home...that he finally belonged.
And people liked him.
Especially Ron. Imagine having six brothers?
Of course, not everyone liked him. Malfoy didn’t. Harry had noticed the other boy glowering at him during the Feast. At least he hadn’t ended up in Slytherin. Imagine how bad it would have been sharing a dormitory with Malfoy for seven years.
Twelve
“Who is Hermione Granger?”
Draco looked briefly at his father and then down at his feet. “She’s a Gryffindor.”
“And?”
“A Mudblood.”
“And?”
He scuffed at the rug pile with the toe of his shoe. “She got better marks than me.”
“In everything, Draco. Not one or two subjects, but everything including Potions. What did you spend your time doing, because you certainly weren’t studying?”
Draco gave a huff as he met his father’s gaze. “It’s not fair...all the teachers like her...and Harry Potter.”
“I don’t care. If you want a racing broom, I suggest you spend your summer studying.”
*
Harry didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of this before. It was much better than drinking Polyjuice Potion. Under the cover of his Invisibility Cloak he’d crept into the Slytherin common room and was, right now, standing a few feet from Draco Malfoy.
Of course, it was dangerous. What if someone bumped into him or if a bit of him became visible? But that didn’t worry him because he could keep an eye on Malfoy and perhaps find out who’d opened the Chamber of Secrets.
He smirked. He didn’t need to be Slytherin to come up with a cunning plan.
Thirteen
Draco had no idea what form his boggart took and he’d rather not know. He was pleased he’d managed to get out of the DADA lesson that would have revealed it; letting everyone know what he feared the most was a really stupid idea. His father had taught him to never let his enemies know things they could use against him.
Of course, it would be great to find out what scared other people. Imagine how impressed his father would be if Draco found out what Harry Potter feared the most.
He frowned. What if Potter’s biggest fear were Dementors?
*
Hermione held out her hand. “Harry, I have to give it back to Professor McGonagall.”
He stared at Hermione, and then back at the tiny hourglass with its long gold chain nestled on his palm. They’d used the Time-Turner to save Sirius and Harry couldn’t help but wonder whether he could use it again. What if he went back and stopped Voldemort from killing his parents? Surely that was more important than the Ministry allowing Hermione to use it for extra lessons.
“Harry?”
How many times would he have to turn it, he wondered. How many hours in thirteen years?
Fourteen
“He’s back. He’s back. Voldemort.”
The words carried to where Draco sat, the listening spell his father had taught him executed perfectly. A shiver of what he couldn’t decide was fear or excitement ran down his spine.
Voldemort back?
His heart was pounding. His mouth suddenly dry. Hadn’t his father told him something incredible was going to happen tonight?
Voldemort back?
He squinted down to where Potter refused to let go of Diggory’s body and he wished he’d learned to do the sight spell properly as well. Was Diggory really dead?
But Voldemort?
He turned away and was physically sick.
*
Harry sat in his room in Privet Drive.
Scattered around him where the things that marked him out as different from everyone in the surrounding houses.
A wand. Wizarding robes. Spell books. Quill instead of a pen. Parchment rather than paper.
He should clear them away but somehow he didn’t have the energy. All he could think about was how it felt to hold a dead body and what it was like to look into the red eyes of a mad man.
Suddenly he wanted none of this. No wand. No quill. And no scar that hurt all the time.
Fifteen
“I’ve been made a prefect!” Draco held up the badge; silver and green with a large ‘P’ superimposed over the Slytherin snake. He grinned at his parents.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Narcissa kissed him on the cheek. “Well done. Next it will be Head Boy.”
Lucius took the badge and Draco held his breath waiting for even a small morsel of praise.
“A lot will happen at Hogwarts this year, Draco.”
“Yes, father.”
“I want you to keep an eye on Potter. Let me know if he mentions anything about a prophecy.”
Draco swallowed as he took back the badge. “Yes, sir.”
*
Harry stood gasping in a darkened Hogwarts corridor. He had no idea where he was; after leaving Umbridge, he’d just run and run until the stitch in his side pulled him up sharp.
Panting, he stared at his right hand. Fresh flecks of blood oozed from the raw red marks spelling out I must not tell lies. Merlin, it hurt! How was he supposed to go back tomorrow and do it all over again?
“Potter.”
He looked up and scowled. Of all the people to find him, it had to be Malfoy!
“Out after curfew, Potter. Five points from Gryffindor.”
*
“Why, Draco, what a handsome boy you’ve grown into.”
Draco blanched and swallowed nervously. “Aunt Bella.” He glanced at his mother, then at Bellatrix and finally anywhere. “I didn’t know you were...visiting.”
“What better way to spend Easter than with my beloved family?” Bellatrix placed a hand on his cheek and it was all Draco could do not to pull away as she kissed him. “Oh, I'm scaring you.”
“No.” Salazar, she scared him to death. If this was what being a Death Eater really meant....
“The mind doesn’t lie.” She smirked. “I think I need to teach you Occlumency.”
*
Harry stared at the broken pieces of mirror in front of him. It had taken him ages to put them together, like trying to make a jigsaw puzzle with all the pieces the same colour. Even now there was fragments missing, broken into dust in the bottom of his trunk.
He shouldn’t do magic but he no longer cared. Let them send their stupid letters. He tapping the mirror with his wand he whispered “Reparo.” The glass knitted leaving the surface covered with spidery lines.
“I’m coming to get you, Sirius. I don’t know how, but I’ll find a way.”
Sixteen
Draco couldn’t stop shaking. Pomfrey told him it was shock from the blood loss, but he knew it was a reaction to Dark Magic. He’d felt it before when Voldemort had given him the task of killing Dumbledore. But to feel it from a spell cast by Potter was enough to make anyone tremble.
Merlin, he was scared and he wasn’t sure who scared him more.
“There.” Pomfrey fussed. “The dittany might irritate a little. Put on your pyjama jacket, drink your potion and get into bed.”
Once he would have protested, but not this time.
He needed to think.
*
The hospital wing was in darkness. Harry knew Malfoy was still here and he need to see him.
Still in shock from how fast things had escalated after finding Malfoy crying, he looked down at the sleeping boy and tried to equate this person with the Malfoy he thought he knew.
Malfoy so scared he had been crying. Harry shook his head in disbelief.
He says he’ll kill me.
Malfoy mumbled in his sleep and flung his bared left arm over his head.
Harry gasped as he peered closer. He’d been wrong. There wasn’t a Dark Mark on Malfoy’s arm.
Seventeen
People ignored Draco.
Perhaps ‘ignore’ wasn’t the right word. To ignore someone you had to accept they existed, and to Voldemort’s followers Draco was persona non grata.
That was his punishment for failing. Even the house-elves treated him with contempt.
At least his mother was still alive even if Voldemort made him do things.
Be a good boy, Draco, and I’ll keep her safe. Prove your worth and I may forgive you.
Being ignored did have its advantages. People had stopped noticing him and they talked as if he wasn’t there.
That was how he found out about the Horcruxes.
*
Harry kept a list of Horcruxes in his pocket. But six months after writing it on the evening of Dumbledore’s funeral, he’d found none of them and the list was decidedly dog-eared.
With a tired sigh he put it away and turned to the pile of envelopes on the desk. Raking a hand through his hair, he opened the first one. It was a Christmas card containing a photograph of a small golden cup.
Harry’s eyes widened. It couldn’t be....
He scanned the letter.
I know about the Horcruxes and where Hufflepuff’s cup is. The price is my mother’s safety.
Eighteen
“You have to go.” Draco clutched at his mother’s arm, his voice full of the desperation.
“And leave you here alone?” Narcissa gently pushed Draco’s hair from his face. She wanted to look at him...really look for what she feared might be the last time. He wouldn’t...couldn’t tell her what deal he’d made with Potter, only that she was part of it.
“They’re going to take you somewhere safe.” He gestured at his cousin Nymphadora and Alastor Moody. “And I’ll be fine.”
“Will you?” She leaned close to his ear. “And who will take care of you, my dear heart?”
*
Winter Solstice. Shortest day...longest night.
Harry stood shivering in the shadow of All Hallows, the oldest church in London and wondered if he’d been stood up. It was cold and foggy and he was desperate for warmth.
Desperate for a Firewhisky.
“Potter.”
He turned, wand drawn as a figure stepped closer, the cowl of his cloak hiding white-blond hair.
“Malfoy. I was beginning to think you’d stood me up.”
“Have you spoken to my mother?”
Harry nodded. “She’s out of the country as I promised.”
Malfoy took a breath. “Good. Here’s your payment.” He held out the small golden cup.
Nineteen
“How long do you think you can keep playing these games, Draco?”
Draco glanced up from his notebook and smirked at Severus. “Until Potter’s paid for all seven Horcruxes.”
“You are playing the two most powerful wizards in the world against each other. Someone will get burned, and I doubt it will be either of them.” Snape stopped his pacing.
“I’m just a little cog, Severus, they don’t notice me. Voldemort thinks I’m guarding his Horcruxes and Potter’s willing to give me just about anything for them.”
“And what is your fee for Gryffindor’s dirk?”
“My father out of Azkaban.”
*
“How long are you going to let Malfoy keep playing these games, Harry?”
Harry gulped his Firewhisky, the warmth seeping into him. He was cold all the time and he wondered whether Voldemort was responsible. “Until I’ve destroyed all seven Horcruxes.”
Hermione gave a huff of annoyance and tossed Malfoy’s latest missive onto the table. “He thinks he can twist you round his little finger. What will you do when he asks for something you’re not willing to give?”
“Voldemort killed Ginny and Ron. Do you think there’s anything Malfoy could ask for I won’t be prepared to give?”
Twenty
“Master.” Draco dropped to his knees as Voldemort strode in. He hated this...Malfoys were not servile.
Voldemort’s finger curled into blond hair, the touch affectionate. “How is my Secret Keeper? Are you keeping my most precious things safe?”
“Yes, Master.” Draco felt Voldemort’s mind touch his own and he let the ‘right’ thoughts flow. The truth was hidden. Only one ‘precious thing’ still contained a Horcrux, Potter had destroyed the others before giving the containers back.
“Good. I need your touch, Draco. I need to be soothed today.”
Draco tasted bile in his throat and tried not to be sick.
*
The meetings were always in the same place; outside All Hallows Church.
Harry had come to hate the place over the last two years. He’d suggested they met elsewhere, but Malfoy seemed to enjoy tormenting him, showing he was calling the shots. He’d whisper in Harry’s ear, invaded Harry’s personal space.
Malfoy was there now...too close...whispering...the voice making Harry shiver with a cross between longing and loathing.
“What’s your price this time?” Harry finally asked.
Warm breath on Harry’s neck.
“Your body....”
“What?!” Harry gasped.
“....worshipping my body. I want to lay back and have you whore for me, Potter.”
Twenty-One
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
He’d been waiting for months, turning down everything else offered in payment until Potter had agreed to this. It was supposed to have been the best day in his life.
Potter finally humiliated and humbled. Potter’s mouth stretched around him as those green eyes glowered full of hate.
He’d smirked as he’d made Potter strip and then undress him.
Then Potter had touched his Sectumsempra scar, the one running from his right hip to his left nipple. The touch had been so gentle, so hesitant and then Potter had whispered.
“I’m so sorry.”
*
How, he wondered could he loathe and want something so much?
Malfoy was beautiful. Even Voldemort’s Mark looked exquisite against the paleness. He wanted to touch it...to touch all the scars on that body, especially the ones he’d made. In another life...another time...he would have learned each one. How they felt and how they tasted.
But not like this.
He touched a scar and wondered what Malfoy had suffered during his years as a spy. Malfoy could have gone with his mother, but he’d stayed.
Malfoy had agreed because he had asked him to risk his life.
“I’m so sorry.”
Twenty-Two
After all the subterfuge to keep his family alive, of having a madman maul him, it came down to this. He was lying in his own blood after his aunt’s curse, with two Aurors pointing wands at him. Draco would have laughed if it didn’t hurt so much.
Hadn’t anyone told these idiots whose side he was on? That he was Potter’s spy? That it was his intelligence that had handed Voldemort to the Boy Who Lived?
Now he was going to die because they wouldn’t go for help.
Fucking brilliant.
Where was the Chosen One when you needed him?
*
Harry stared down at the man who’d killed his parents on this very spot twenty-one years ago. The last Horcrux had been inside Dumbledore’s Order of Merlin and Voldemort was finally dead.
He glanced at Hermione. “I need to find him...and Snape.”
She nodded. “Snape’s with Neville and Luna.”
“And Malfoy?”
She pointed to a group gathered under a tree.
He sprinted over and found his way barred.
“He’s a Death Eater,” the Auror pontificated.
“He’s on our side!” Harry pushed passed, carefully lifting the broken body. “If he dies I’ll have your wands. Now get out of my way!”
Twenty-Two and a Half
White sheets. White walls.
For a moment Draco thought he was in heaven. But then the pain came back and he decided this was either hell or he was still alive.
Carefully raising his head, not too fast in case it made the headache worse, he looked around. This was St Mungo’s, so he’d survived the final battle. Whether he survived the ensuing peace was another matter.
Head back on the pillow, he focused on someone sleeping on a chair in the corner. He squinted, wishing he had his wand to cast some light.
Then he realised it was Potter.
*
Harry hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but he hadn’t slept for at least three days and the Healer had spelled the chair so comfortable.
Grey eyes were watching him when he finally woke. Harry had been rehearsing what to say, but now it was more difficult than he thought. Taking a head-clearing breath, he got to his feet. “She used Sectumsempra and left you to bleed to death.”
“And Severus? Is he alive?”
Harry nodded. “Unfortunately you’re both under arrest.” He touched a finger to the back of Draco’s hand. “I’m sorry. But I’m going to get you both out.”
Twenty-Three
Draco stood before the once-beautiful façade of Malfoy Manor, his arm around Narcissa’s shoulder as she dabbed at tear-filled eyes. He’d spent two months in St Mungo’s, then three in Azkaban waiting for the Wizengamot to hear his case, and four more demanding the return of all the sequestered Malfoy assets.
He squeezed his mother’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay. We’ll rebuild it.”
“With what? Your father gave most of our money to Voldemort.” Narcissa pouted. “Then he was selfish enough to die, leaving us with nothing.”
“I’ll sort it out, mother.” Perhaps he could sell some of the estate.
*
The will had been simple. Harry’s parents had left him everything including the family home at Godric’s Hollow.
He looked at the tumbled-down remains of the cottage that were almost hidden by the overgrown vegetation. Had they known when writing the will that their lives were in so much danger? That it would all end here one cold October night?
Kicking at a stone, he wondered what it had all been for. All the pain and death.
He’d survived the War only to end up alone in the Peace.
Who’d want a used-up alcoholic hero for a partner?
Twenty-Four
Messrs Greenwood, Flowerdew and Swithinbank prided themselves on being able to sell any property, but Mr Flowerdew had to admit sometimes it was difficult.
Sometimes the seller included covenants that scared people away. Sometimes it was the location. But this time it was both. Who would buy part of the Malfoy estate where they could do nothing except live in the summerhouse?
He hoped the person reading the complicated deeds wouldn’t change his mind (or notice the bit about reselling only to a Malfoy).
Finally, the man nodded and signed his name.
Mr Flowerdew sighed with relief. “Congratulations, Mr Potter.”
*
Draco stood in the south wing library, staring out into the darkness. The wing, unlike the rest of the house, had survived almost intact. He could make out the lake and, just beyond, the light from the summerhouse.
“You should invite him for supper.”
He turned, smiling at his mother and let her kiss his cheek. “He wouldn’t come.”
A warm arm slid around Draco’s waist. “How do you know if you don’t ask?”
“Because he’s Harry Potter.”
“And?” The grip tightened. “Would it hurt to ask? You spend every evening looking, Draco, and someone must make the first move.”
*
Harry sat outside the summerhouse shivering despite wearing his warmest winter cloak. He’d woken to find the world transformed into a scene from the ‘Snow Queen’. Hoarfrost clung to everything. Harry decided he’d never seen anything so beautiful in his 24 years.
He sipped at his cup of coffee and wondered if his shivering was from the cold or the need for something stronger.
Feet crunching on ice made him look up. Malfoy looked like Kai in his fur robes.
Malfoy sat beside him and nodded as he took the offered cup.
Neither spoke as they sat in companionable silence.
*
The clock struck midnight and Draco kissed his mother. “Happy New Year.”
Narcissa smiled, hugging him before turning to her guests. It had been many years since the manor had been full of so many happy people.
He looked for Potter and found him in the library staring out into the darkness.
“Harry?”
Potter turned and Draco thought he saw tears on the man’s cheeks. He was holding the remains of a broken glass. “I’ve got nothing left, Draco.”
Quickly Draco took the glass. “Yes you have.”
“What?”
Hesitating for a moment, he wiped away a tear. “You’ve got me.”
Twenty-Five
Draco waited for Harry to climb into the bed and snuggle against his back.
They shared a bed most nights now, but nothing else. Nothing...intimate. They both liked the feel of skin-on-skin. Touching. Closeness.
“Dumbledore once told me,” Harry’s words turned into warm breath on his neck. “That killing rips the soul apart. My soul must be in tatters.”
“Voldemort once told me,” Draco felt an arm snake around his waist, Harry’s hand warm against his heart. “That killing makes the soul more powerful.” He clutched at the hand. “My soul must be the most powerful in the world.”
*
Harry tried to turn Draco around, but he wouldn’t budge. So he scrambled over him, tucking into the little space at the edge of the bed.
He saw why Draco hadn’t turned; saw tears on his face.
Gently he wiped one away. It tasted of salt and pain.
“I’ve been thinking.” Draco’s lip quirked and he waited for a snide remark that never came. “We’ve given them 25 years. We mustn’t let them take anymore.”
Taking a breath, Harry knew this would change everything...perhaps ruin what they had.
He kissed away a tear on the corner of Draco’s mouth.
Twenty-Six
“Here.” Draco padded from the hotel bathroom and tossed a towel at Harry. It landed on his head, covering him like a hood. “At least get your hair dry.”
“Okay.” For a moment there was no movement, then Harry slowly fell backwards, sprawled on the huge bed. “Happy New Year, Draco.”
Draco studied his happily inebriated lover. They’d come to London to see in 2007, had shopped, feasted, skated at Somerset House and watched Fireworks from the River Terrace while drinking hot chocolate and champagne.
It had been perfect.
He flipped the towel off Harry’s Face. “Happy New Year, Harry.”
*
Harry woke with Draco’s arms and legs entwined about him. He could, he decided, remain exactly where he was for the whole of 2007.
He sighed against warm skin and twisted the platinum band Draco had given him last night. Who would have thought after everything that they’d finally end up with each other?
“Harry?” Fingers combed into his hair.
“I was thinking.”
“About?”
“How we’ve managed to survive everything the Wizarding and Muggle worlds have thrown at us.”
“Mmmm,” Draco kissed his scar. “Relatively intact despite everything.”
Harry sighed happily. “I love you, Draco.”
“And I love you, Harry.”
---Fin
Each part has two 100-word drabbles, linking Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter’s lives in a moment from each year starting with their births and ending twenty-six years later on New Year’s Day 2007.
Word count: 6000 words.
Rating: PG in the early parts, leading to R in later parts.
Warnings: Suggestion of non-con. Homosexual relationship.
Birth
“At least its a boy. One should be grateful for small mercies.” Lucius Malfoy stared down at the mewling bundle with its screwed up face and loud piercing tears.
“I told you I would give you an heir, Lucius.” Narcissa gestured at one of the house-elves who scurried to pump up her pillows. “Now get out of my bedroom.”
With a sardonic raise of an eyebrow, Lucius gave a small laugh. “Nothing will please me more, my dear Narcissa.” He strode towards the door and gestured at the nurse. “Bring my son. I’m sure his mother needs her beauty sleep.”
*
“What are we going to call him? He was supposed to be a girl.”
Lily smiled and snuggled back against her husband as she held the baby to her breast. “You thought he was going to be a girl, which will teach you to believe in predictions and soothsayers. I, on the other hand just expected a baby.” She leaned forward and gently kissed her son on the forehead.
"But he needs a name.” James pulled back the baby blanket and with awe touched soft baby skin. The boy waved his little fist and grabbed hold of his father’s finger.
One
“Happy birthday, Draco.” The Dark Lord ran a finger down the pale cheek and watched as the tiny chin quivered just a little. “No tears on your first birthday.” He gestured with a hand and the baby calmed as the magic passed over him. “He shows his heritage already, Lucius. The next generation of Death Eaters in the making.”
“Of course, my Lord.” Carefully Lucius took the boy back. Draco scrambled into his arms, burrowing into his chest and he knew his son was sucking his thumb. He would have to get Severus to brew a potion to stop him.
*
“ ‘I will forgive you on one condition,’ said the Beast, ‘that is that you will give me one of your daughters’.” Lily smiled as she saw Harry’s eyes were drooping. Careful not to disturb him, she closed the book.
“He’s a little young for fairytales.” James reached for his son and watched as Harry snuggled into his chest. “Especially ones about giving your children away.” He felt the boy’s breathing change as Harry dropped into sleep.
Lily came to her feet and gathered her two men into her arms. “Well, no one’s ever going to take our Harry away.”
Two
“You were never under Imperius, Malfoy.” Barty Crouch tossed the release order onto the desk. “You’re free to go, but I’m watching you.”
Lucius smirked as he picked it up. He felt the tug of a Portkey; Azkaban disappeared and he was back at the manor.
“Narcissa!”
She hurried to greet him. “Thank Salazar. I was beginning to think the worst.”
Lucius pulled her into a kiss. “I told you we’d get through this.”
“Daddy!” A small blond fury grabbed at his leg.
“Well, look who’s here.” He swept Draco into his arms. “Look how well my favourite boy’s walking.”
*
“This is all your sister’s fault. Getting herself killed!” Vernon scowled at the child (he refused to think of Harry as in any way related to him) as it waddled around the lounge. “All these interfering busybodies poking their noses into our business.”
Petunia slapped at the child’s arm as it reached for one of Dudley’s stuffed toys. Harry’s chin trembled, green eyes filling with tears. She turned away. “Do you think I want him here? We don’t have a choice.”
“He better not start doing…” Vernon lowered his voice, “...magic. I’ll beat it out of him if need be.”
Three
“Mrs Malfoy, he’s an angel.” Madam Malkin crouched down and stroked Draco’s slightly chubby cheek. “All those blond curls. He looks like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.”
Draco grabbed at her finger, “No!” and sank his teeth into the offending digit.
“Ouch.” Pulling her finger free Madam Malkin feigned a smile. “The little scamp.” She’d like to bite the brat back, that would teach him how much it hurt, but the Malfoys were good customers.
Narcissa Malfoy smiled indulgently at her son. “You made a set of dress robes for my husband. I want an identical set for Draco.”
*
“Ouch!”
“Stand still!” Petunia grabbed the scruff of Harry’s neck. “I’m going to brush your hair whether you like it or not!” She tugged the brush through the thick mane of black hair in a fruitless attempt to tidy it.
“It hurts!”
“Then you shouldn’t have hair that’s always a mess.” It didn’t matter what she did, the boy’s hair always looked like he’d just got out of bed. “I should cut it all off!”
“No!” Harry grabbed for her wrist and sank his teeth into it. “No!” He scurried away.
“You little monster! Wait until your uncle gets home.”
Four
“I want it!” Draco grabbed at the toy heffalump Greg Goyle was playing with.
“It’s mine!”
“I want it!” Draco pushed the other boy who tumbled to the floor.
As the two boys argued, Abraxas looked on with an approving smile. He’d been worried that Narcissa was going to turn his grandson into a mummy’s boy, but he could see the Malfoy spark in Draco after all. Perhaps it was time for him to make sure Draco understood his true heritage.
“Draco.” The boy looked at him, holding the heffalump like a prize. “Come and show me your new toy.”
*
“Now, what would you like for Christmas?” The plump boy thrust a list at Father Christmas and began reciting what was on it. Father Christmas listened with incredulity. “Have you been a good boy?”
“Of course he has.” The boy’s mother looked mortified that her son should be anything else.
“And what about you?” He smiled down at the little dark-haired boy hiding behind the woman’s legs.
The child gave a shy smile, and held out a scrap of paper, but the woman grabbed it. She screwed it up, dropping it to the floor. “He’s been naughty and gets nothing.”
Five
“Draco, I have a present for you.” Lucius watched as his son instantly forgot the painting he’d been diligently working on. Scrambling to his feet, Draco raced across the playroom to his father’s side.
“Show me.” Draco’s eyes lit as he bounced with excitement. “What is it?”
Crouching down, Lucius held out his clenched hand. “You must ask politely. Only Muggles and Mudbloods shriek and shout.”
Draco suddenly stilled and with a little huff said, “Please may I see what you’ve brought me, father?”
“Of course.” Lucius opened his fingers and fluttering on his palm was a tiny Golden Snitch.
*
Harry found it in the garden.
He’d been looking for pebbles when he found it poking out of a lump of dirt. He liked pebbles...flat, smooth ones and sharp pointy ones. He’d line them up on the grass to see the different shapes. But Dudley always ruined everything by kicking them all over the place.
The lump of dirt contained a large glass marble with green and white insides. Cleaning it on his sleeve, he held it up to see it glisten in the sun.
Quickly he pocketed it. If Dudley saw it he’d make Aunt Petunia take it away.
Six
“Where’s Draco?”
Narcissa looked up from her tapestry. “Dobby’s getting him ready for bed.”
“Good. Some things are not meant for the ears of a six-year-old.”
“You talked to Igor?”
“Yes. He’s heard the same rumours about sightings of the Dark Lord.”
The needle slipped from her fingers. “We need to know...for Draco’s sake.”
“For all our sakes. Unfortunately the only person who knows what happened at Godric’s Hollow was spirited away by that fool Dumbledore.”
“Is it possible to extract memories from a child that young without damaging him?”
Lucius shrugged. “It will be interesting to find out.”
“Mrs Dursley!”
Petunia grimaced at the sound of her name being called across the classroom. She turned to the offender, a woman who didn’t look old enough to be a teacher. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry to bother you, I wonder if I could talk to you about Harry.” The teacher pointed to where the boy was sitting at his desk engrossed in a book with his nose almost touching the pages.
“I might have known.” Petunia looked skyward. “What has he done now?”
“Oh, nothing. Has Harry ever had his eyes tested?”
“His eyes?”
“Yes. I think he might need glasses.”
Seven
“What are you reading, Draco?” Lucius sat beside his son.
“About Lord Voldemort.”
Lucius raised an eyebrow. “We don’t say his name.”
Enquiring grey eyes looked at him. “Why?”
“Because of our respect for a great and powerful wizard. You may call him the ‘Dark Lord’ here in private, but in front of strangers refer to him as ‘He Who Must Not Be Named’.”
Draco frowned thoughtfully. “Then is it okay to say Harry Potter’s name? Isn’t he even more powerful because he killed Vold...you know...him?”
“Harry Potter is a child.”
The frown deepened. “Harry Potter could be my friend.”
*
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing.” Harry turned away, shielding his drawing from Dudley who ruined everything.
“Show me.” Dudley grabbed at the paper, tugging so hard that it ripped in half.
“I hate you!” Harry pointed his crayon at his cousin.
Dudley stumbled backwards as if punched. “Daddy! He’s doing it again!”
“No supper and you stay in there all night!” Vernon shoved Harry into the cupboard under the stairs. He could hear little sobs from inside. “You know, Petunia, the boy could sleep in there permanently.”
Petunia slid the bolt into place. “Well, Dudleykins does need some extra room.”
Eight
“I am going to teach you some special magic, Draco.” Lucius held out his wand. “Here.”
With a look of awe, Draco held out a trembling hand. “Can I really?”
“Of course, but this is our secret. You must tell no one.”
“Not even mother?” Draco’s fingers curled around the wand’s handle. It felt much heavier than he’d expected.
“Your mother knows, but it’s important that others don’t find out. They see magic only as black or white...good or evil. But power is the key. That is what I am going to teach you, Draco, the power of Dark Magic.”
*
“It’s not fair, Albus.” Arabella Figg stared at the boy who was sitting forlornly on a swing. “You can’t want him to live like this.”
“It’s for his own good, Arabella.” Albus Dumbledore gave a heartfelt sigh. “He needs the protection offered by his family.”
“But not like this. They’re horrible to him.” She pointed, hand gesticulating. “Look at his clothes. And they make him sleep in a cupboard I wouldn’t let my cats live in.”
“But the magic....”
“Oh, fiddlesticks, Albus.” She wiggled her finger at him. “You could protect him elsewhere...you know you could. So why don’t you?”
Nine
“And I flew up until I was higher than the trees,” Draco all but danced around his father as he excitedly told his story. “And guess what.”
“What, Draco?”
“This HUGE helicopter suddenly appeared and you should have SEEN the look on the Muggle’s face.” Draco mimicked the person he’s seen...eyes wide, mouth open. “I think he screamed but I couldn’t hear because of all the noise. Can I have an ice cream?”
Torn between admonishing the boy and laughing at his antics, Lucius nodded. “I believe Fortescue’s will be open but first we must get your mother’s birthday present.”
*
Harry had been trailing behind his aunt and cousin when the man stopped directly in front of him. Of course, he was used to strange people in Little Whinging; Uncle Vernon said they were all useless...just like Harry.
But this man was different. He was wearing a magenta cape and when he reached for Harry’s hand it was as if he’d known Harry all his life.
“Do you know me?” Harry gripped the man’s hand, desperate for an answer. “Please!”
The man smiled. “Of course, you’re Harry Potter.”
And with a wink, he pulled free and went on his way.
Ten
“I won’t allow it. His name’s been down for Hogwarts since he was born, just as our names and our parents name were.”
Lucius watched his wife tear the Durmstrang letter in half. “It will make a man of him.”
Narcissa pointed her wand, setting fire to the remains of the letter. “He’s not going to Durmstrang. I will not have him sent thousands of miles away for seven years.”
“He’ll learn real magick there...the Dark Arts. He wants to go.”
“Only because he thinks you want it. He’ll do anything to please you, including going to that god-forsaken place.”
*
“Isn’t it exciting, Diddykins. You’ll be going to daddy’s school.”
Harry watched as his aunt tried to hug his cousin while Dudley tried to push her away. His uncle had a stupid grin on his face and was patting Dudley on the head.
“Clever boy, Dudders. Smeltings will be the making of you.”
Harry cleared his throat. “What about me?”
All three Dursleys turned to stare at him. It was Uncle Vernon who finally spoke. “You?”
“Am I going to Smeltings?”
“You? Go to Smeltings?” Uncle Vernon barked a laugh. “You’ll go to Stonewall High and be grateful for it.”
Eleven
Draco stared out of the window. The others had ignored him since his outburst of “Leave me alone!”
He was very confused by what had happened at the other end of the Hogwarts Express. He was a Malfoy. People liked him; they wanted to be his friend.
So why had Harry Potter turned him down? Hadn’t Draco been polite to him? Offered to help Potter meet the right people rather then the likes of Weasley?
He scowled at his reflection in the glass. He would get his own back. No one snubbed a Malfoy, not even the Boy Who Lived.
*
Harry sat cross-legged on his four-poster bed listening to his new friends talk about Quidditch and football and magic. The excitement of the Sorting and then the Feast had turned into a feeling of pleasant sleepiness. Being at Hogwarts felt like he’d come home...that he finally belonged.
And people liked him.
Especially Ron. Imagine having six brothers?
Of course, not everyone liked him. Malfoy didn’t. Harry had noticed the other boy glowering at him during the Feast. At least he hadn’t ended up in Slytherin. Imagine how bad it would have been sharing a dormitory with Malfoy for seven years.
Twelve
“Who is Hermione Granger?”
Draco looked briefly at his father and then down at his feet. “She’s a Gryffindor.”
“And?”
“A Mudblood.”
“And?”
He scuffed at the rug pile with the toe of his shoe. “She got better marks than me.”
“In everything, Draco. Not one or two subjects, but everything including Potions. What did you spend your time doing, because you certainly weren’t studying?”
Draco gave a huff as he met his father’s gaze. “It’s not fair...all the teachers like her...and Harry Potter.”
“I don’t care. If you want a racing broom, I suggest you spend your summer studying.”
*
Harry didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of this before. It was much better than drinking Polyjuice Potion. Under the cover of his Invisibility Cloak he’d crept into the Slytherin common room and was, right now, standing a few feet from Draco Malfoy.
Of course, it was dangerous. What if someone bumped into him or if a bit of him became visible? But that didn’t worry him because he could keep an eye on Malfoy and perhaps find out who’d opened the Chamber of Secrets.
He smirked. He didn’t need to be Slytherin to come up with a cunning plan.
Thirteen
Draco had no idea what form his boggart took and he’d rather not know. He was pleased he’d managed to get out of the DADA lesson that would have revealed it; letting everyone know what he feared the most was a really stupid idea. His father had taught him to never let his enemies know things they could use against him.
Of course, it would be great to find out what scared other people. Imagine how impressed his father would be if Draco found out what Harry Potter feared the most.
He frowned. What if Potter’s biggest fear were Dementors?
*
Hermione held out her hand. “Harry, I have to give it back to Professor McGonagall.”
He stared at Hermione, and then back at the tiny hourglass with its long gold chain nestled on his palm. They’d used the Time-Turner to save Sirius and Harry couldn’t help but wonder whether he could use it again. What if he went back and stopped Voldemort from killing his parents? Surely that was more important than the Ministry allowing Hermione to use it for extra lessons.
“Harry?”
How many times would he have to turn it, he wondered. How many hours in thirteen years?
Fourteen
“He’s back. He’s back. Voldemort.”
The words carried to where Draco sat, the listening spell his father had taught him executed perfectly. A shiver of what he couldn’t decide was fear or excitement ran down his spine.
Voldemort back?
His heart was pounding. His mouth suddenly dry. Hadn’t his father told him something incredible was going to happen tonight?
Voldemort back?
He squinted down to where Potter refused to let go of Diggory’s body and he wished he’d learned to do the sight spell properly as well. Was Diggory really dead?
But Voldemort?
He turned away and was physically sick.
*
Harry sat in his room in Privet Drive.
Scattered around him where the things that marked him out as different from everyone in the surrounding houses.
A wand. Wizarding robes. Spell books. Quill instead of a pen. Parchment rather than paper.
He should clear them away but somehow he didn’t have the energy. All he could think about was how it felt to hold a dead body and what it was like to look into the red eyes of a mad man.
Suddenly he wanted none of this. No wand. No quill. And no scar that hurt all the time.
Fifteen
“I’ve been made a prefect!” Draco held up the badge; silver and green with a large ‘P’ superimposed over the Slytherin snake. He grinned at his parents.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Narcissa kissed him on the cheek. “Well done. Next it will be Head Boy.”
Lucius took the badge and Draco held his breath waiting for even a small morsel of praise.
“A lot will happen at Hogwarts this year, Draco.”
“Yes, father.”
“I want you to keep an eye on Potter. Let me know if he mentions anything about a prophecy.”
Draco swallowed as he took back the badge. “Yes, sir.”
*
Harry stood gasping in a darkened Hogwarts corridor. He had no idea where he was; after leaving Umbridge, he’d just run and run until the stitch in his side pulled him up sharp.
Panting, he stared at his right hand. Fresh flecks of blood oozed from the raw red marks spelling out I must not tell lies. Merlin, it hurt! How was he supposed to go back tomorrow and do it all over again?
“Potter.”
He looked up and scowled. Of all the people to find him, it had to be Malfoy!
“Out after curfew, Potter. Five points from Gryffindor.”
*
“Why, Draco, what a handsome boy you’ve grown into.”
Draco blanched and swallowed nervously. “Aunt Bella.” He glanced at his mother, then at Bellatrix and finally anywhere. “I didn’t know you were...visiting.”
“What better way to spend Easter than with my beloved family?” Bellatrix placed a hand on his cheek and it was all Draco could do not to pull away as she kissed him. “Oh, I'm scaring you.”
“No.” Salazar, she scared him to death. If this was what being a Death Eater really meant....
“The mind doesn’t lie.” She smirked. “I think I need to teach you Occlumency.”
*
Harry stared at the broken pieces of mirror in front of him. It had taken him ages to put them together, like trying to make a jigsaw puzzle with all the pieces the same colour. Even now there was fragments missing, broken into dust in the bottom of his trunk.
He shouldn’t do magic but he no longer cared. Let them send their stupid letters. He tapping the mirror with his wand he whispered “Reparo.” The glass knitted leaving the surface covered with spidery lines.
“I’m coming to get you, Sirius. I don’t know how, but I’ll find a way.”
Sixteen
Draco couldn’t stop shaking. Pomfrey told him it was shock from the blood loss, but he knew it was a reaction to Dark Magic. He’d felt it before when Voldemort had given him the task of killing Dumbledore. But to feel it from a spell cast by Potter was enough to make anyone tremble.
Merlin, he was scared and he wasn’t sure who scared him more.
“There.” Pomfrey fussed. “The dittany might irritate a little. Put on your pyjama jacket, drink your potion and get into bed.”
Once he would have protested, but not this time.
He needed to think.
*
The hospital wing was in darkness. Harry knew Malfoy was still here and he need to see him.
Still in shock from how fast things had escalated after finding Malfoy crying, he looked down at the sleeping boy and tried to equate this person with the Malfoy he thought he knew.
Malfoy so scared he had been crying. Harry shook his head in disbelief.
He says he’ll kill me.
Malfoy mumbled in his sleep and flung his bared left arm over his head.
Harry gasped as he peered closer. He’d been wrong. There wasn’t a Dark Mark on Malfoy’s arm.
Seventeen
People ignored Draco.
Perhaps ‘ignore’ wasn’t the right word. To ignore someone you had to accept they existed, and to Voldemort’s followers Draco was persona non grata.
That was his punishment for failing. Even the house-elves treated him with contempt.
At least his mother was still alive even if Voldemort made him do things.
Be a good boy, Draco, and I’ll keep her safe. Prove your worth and I may forgive you.
Being ignored did have its advantages. People had stopped noticing him and they talked as if he wasn’t there.
That was how he found out about the Horcruxes.
*
Harry kept a list of Horcruxes in his pocket. But six months after writing it on the evening of Dumbledore’s funeral, he’d found none of them and the list was decidedly dog-eared.
With a tired sigh he put it away and turned to the pile of envelopes on the desk. Raking a hand through his hair, he opened the first one. It was a Christmas card containing a photograph of a small golden cup.
Harry’s eyes widened. It couldn’t be....
He scanned the letter.
I know about the Horcruxes and where Hufflepuff’s cup is. The price is my mother’s safety.
Eighteen
“You have to go.” Draco clutched at his mother’s arm, his voice full of the desperation.
“And leave you here alone?” Narcissa gently pushed Draco’s hair from his face. She wanted to look at him...really look for what she feared might be the last time. He wouldn’t...couldn’t tell her what deal he’d made with Potter, only that she was part of it.
“They’re going to take you somewhere safe.” He gestured at his cousin Nymphadora and Alastor Moody. “And I’ll be fine.”
“Will you?” She leaned close to his ear. “And who will take care of you, my dear heart?”
*
Winter Solstice. Shortest day...longest night.
Harry stood shivering in the shadow of All Hallows, the oldest church in London and wondered if he’d been stood up. It was cold and foggy and he was desperate for warmth.
Desperate for a Firewhisky.
“Potter.”
He turned, wand drawn as a figure stepped closer, the cowl of his cloak hiding white-blond hair.
“Malfoy. I was beginning to think you’d stood me up.”
“Have you spoken to my mother?”
Harry nodded. “She’s out of the country as I promised.”
Malfoy took a breath. “Good. Here’s your payment.” He held out the small golden cup.
Nineteen
“How long do you think you can keep playing these games, Draco?”
Draco glanced up from his notebook and smirked at Severus. “Until Potter’s paid for all seven Horcruxes.”
“You are playing the two most powerful wizards in the world against each other. Someone will get burned, and I doubt it will be either of them.” Snape stopped his pacing.
“I’m just a little cog, Severus, they don’t notice me. Voldemort thinks I’m guarding his Horcruxes and Potter’s willing to give me just about anything for them.”
“And what is your fee for Gryffindor’s dirk?”
“My father out of Azkaban.”
*
“How long are you going to let Malfoy keep playing these games, Harry?”
Harry gulped his Firewhisky, the warmth seeping into him. He was cold all the time and he wondered whether Voldemort was responsible. “Until I’ve destroyed all seven Horcruxes.”
Hermione gave a huff of annoyance and tossed Malfoy’s latest missive onto the table. “He thinks he can twist you round his little finger. What will you do when he asks for something you’re not willing to give?”
“Voldemort killed Ginny and Ron. Do you think there’s anything Malfoy could ask for I won’t be prepared to give?”
Twenty
“Master.” Draco dropped to his knees as Voldemort strode in. He hated this...Malfoys were not servile.
Voldemort’s finger curled into blond hair, the touch affectionate. “How is my Secret Keeper? Are you keeping my most precious things safe?”
“Yes, Master.” Draco felt Voldemort’s mind touch his own and he let the ‘right’ thoughts flow. The truth was hidden. Only one ‘precious thing’ still contained a Horcrux, Potter had destroyed the others before giving the containers back.
“Good. I need your touch, Draco. I need to be soothed today.”
Draco tasted bile in his throat and tried not to be sick.
*
The meetings were always in the same place; outside All Hallows Church.
Harry had come to hate the place over the last two years. He’d suggested they met elsewhere, but Malfoy seemed to enjoy tormenting him, showing he was calling the shots. He’d whisper in Harry’s ear, invaded Harry’s personal space.
Malfoy was there now...too close...whispering...the voice making Harry shiver with a cross between longing and loathing.
“What’s your price this time?” Harry finally asked.
Warm breath on Harry’s neck.
“Your body....”
“What?!” Harry gasped.
“....worshipping my body. I want to lay back and have you whore for me, Potter.”
Twenty-One
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
He’d been waiting for months, turning down everything else offered in payment until Potter had agreed to this. It was supposed to have been the best day in his life.
Potter finally humiliated and humbled. Potter’s mouth stretched around him as those green eyes glowered full of hate.
He’d smirked as he’d made Potter strip and then undress him.
Then Potter had touched his Sectumsempra scar, the one running from his right hip to his left nipple. The touch had been so gentle, so hesitant and then Potter had whispered.
“I’m so sorry.”
*
How, he wondered could he loathe and want something so much?
Malfoy was beautiful. Even Voldemort’s Mark looked exquisite against the paleness. He wanted to touch it...to touch all the scars on that body, especially the ones he’d made. In another life...another time...he would have learned each one. How they felt and how they tasted.
But not like this.
He touched a scar and wondered what Malfoy had suffered during his years as a spy. Malfoy could have gone with his mother, but he’d stayed.
Malfoy had agreed because he had asked him to risk his life.
“I’m so sorry.”
Twenty-Two
After all the subterfuge to keep his family alive, of having a madman maul him, it came down to this. He was lying in his own blood after his aunt’s curse, with two Aurors pointing wands at him. Draco would have laughed if it didn’t hurt so much.
Hadn’t anyone told these idiots whose side he was on? That he was Potter’s spy? That it was his intelligence that had handed Voldemort to the Boy Who Lived?
Now he was going to die because they wouldn’t go for help.
Fucking brilliant.
Where was the Chosen One when you needed him?
*
Harry stared down at the man who’d killed his parents on this very spot twenty-one years ago. The last Horcrux had been inside Dumbledore’s Order of Merlin and Voldemort was finally dead.
He glanced at Hermione. “I need to find him...and Snape.”
She nodded. “Snape’s with Neville and Luna.”
“And Malfoy?”
She pointed to a group gathered under a tree.
He sprinted over and found his way barred.
“He’s a Death Eater,” the Auror pontificated.
“He’s on our side!” Harry pushed passed, carefully lifting the broken body. “If he dies I’ll have your wands. Now get out of my way!”
Twenty-Two and a Half
White sheets. White walls.
For a moment Draco thought he was in heaven. But then the pain came back and he decided this was either hell or he was still alive.
Carefully raising his head, not too fast in case it made the headache worse, he looked around. This was St Mungo’s, so he’d survived the final battle. Whether he survived the ensuing peace was another matter.
Head back on the pillow, he focused on someone sleeping on a chair in the corner. He squinted, wishing he had his wand to cast some light.
Then he realised it was Potter.
*
Harry hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but he hadn’t slept for at least three days and the Healer had spelled the chair so comfortable.
Grey eyes were watching him when he finally woke. Harry had been rehearsing what to say, but now it was more difficult than he thought. Taking a head-clearing breath, he got to his feet. “She used Sectumsempra and left you to bleed to death.”
“And Severus? Is he alive?”
Harry nodded. “Unfortunately you’re both under arrest.” He touched a finger to the back of Draco’s hand. “I’m sorry. But I’m going to get you both out.”
Twenty-Three
Draco stood before the once-beautiful façade of Malfoy Manor, his arm around Narcissa’s shoulder as she dabbed at tear-filled eyes. He’d spent two months in St Mungo’s, then three in Azkaban waiting for the Wizengamot to hear his case, and four more demanding the return of all the sequestered Malfoy assets.
He squeezed his mother’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay. We’ll rebuild it.”
“With what? Your father gave most of our money to Voldemort.” Narcissa pouted. “Then he was selfish enough to die, leaving us with nothing.”
“I’ll sort it out, mother.” Perhaps he could sell some of the estate.
*
The will had been simple. Harry’s parents had left him everything including the family home at Godric’s Hollow.
He looked at the tumbled-down remains of the cottage that were almost hidden by the overgrown vegetation. Had they known when writing the will that their lives were in so much danger? That it would all end here one cold October night?
Kicking at a stone, he wondered what it had all been for. All the pain and death.
He’d survived the War only to end up alone in the Peace.
Who’d want a used-up alcoholic hero for a partner?
Twenty-Four
Messrs Greenwood, Flowerdew and Swithinbank prided themselves on being able to sell any property, but Mr Flowerdew had to admit sometimes it was difficult.
Sometimes the seller included covenants that scared people away. Sometimes it was the location. But this time it was both. Who would buy part of the Malfoy estate where they could do nothing except live in the summerhouse?
He hoped the person reading the complicated deeds wouldn’t change his mind (or notice the bit about reselling only to a Malfoy).
Finally, the man nodded and signed his name.
Mr Flowerdew sighed with relief. “Congratulations, Mr Potter.”
*
Draco stood in the south wing library, staring out into the darkness. The wing, unlike the rest of the house, had survived almost intact. He could make out the lake and, just beyond, the light from the summerhouse.
“You should invite him for supper.”
He turned, smiling at his mother and let her kiss his cheek. “He wouldn’t come.”
A warm arm slid around Draco’s waist. “How do you know if you don’t ask?”
“Because he’s Harry Potter.”
“And?” The grip tightened. “Would it hurt to ask? You spend every evening looking, Draco, and someone must make the first move.”
*
Harry sat outside the summerhouse shivering despite wearing his warmest winter cloak. He’d woken to find the world transformed into a scene from the ‘Snow Queen’. Hoarfrost clung to everything. Harry decided he’d never seen anything so beautiful in his 24 years.
He sipped at his cup of coffee and wondered if his shivering was from the cold or the need for something stronger.
Feet crunching on ice made him look up. Malfoy looked like Kai in his fur robes.
Malfoy sat beside him and nodded as he took the offered cup.
Neither spoke as they sat in companionable silence.
*
The clock struck midnight and Draco kissed his mother. “Happy New Year.”
Narcissa smiled, hugging him before turning to her guests. It had been many years since the manor had been full of so many happy people.
He looked for Potter and found him in the library staring out into the darkness.
“Harry?”
Potter turned and Draco thought he saw tears on the man’s cheeks. He was holding the remains of a broken glass. “I’ve got nothing left, Draco.”
Quickly Draco took the glass. “Yes you have.”
“What?”
Hesitating for a moment, he wiped away a tear. “You’ve got me.”
Twenty-Five
Draco waited for Harry to climb into the bed and snuggle against his back.
They shared a bed most nights now, but nothing else. Nothing...intimate. They both liked the feel of skin-on-skin. Touching. Closeness.
“Dumbledore once told me,” Harry’s words turned into warm breath on his neck. “That killing rips the soul apart. My soul must be in tatters.”
“Voldemort once told me,” Draco felt an arm snake around his waist, Harry’s hand warm against his heart. “That killing makes the soul more powerful.” He clutched at the hand. “My soul must be the most powerful in the world.”
*
Harry tried to turn Draco around, but he wouldn’t budge. So he scrambled over him, tucking into the little space at the edge of the bed.
He saw why Draco hadn’t turned; saw tears on his face.
Gently he wiped one away. It tasted of salt and pain.
“I’ve been thinking.” Draco’s lip quirked and he waited for a snide remark that never came. “We’ve given them 25 years. We mustn’t let them take anymore.”
Taking a breath, Harry knew this would change everything...perhaps ruin what they had.
He kissed away a tear on the corner of Draco’s mouth.
Twenty-Six
“Here.” Draco padded from the hotel bathroom and tossed a towel at Harry. It landed on his head, covering him like a hood. “At least get your hair dry.”
“Okay.” For a moment there was no movement, then Harry slowly fell backwards, sprawled on the huge bed. “Happy New Year, Draco.”
Draco studied his happily inebriated lover. They’d come to London to see in 2007, had shopped, feasted, skated at Somerset House and watched Fireworks from the River Terrace while drinking hot chocolate and champagne.
It had been perfect.
He flipped the towel off Harry’s Face. “Happy New Year, Harry.”
*
Harry woke with Draco’s arms and legs entwined about him. He could, he decided, remain exactly where he was for the whole of 2007.
He sighed against warm skin and twisted the platinum band Draco had given him last night. Who would have thought after everything that they’d finally end up with each other?
“Harry?” Fingers combed into his hair.
“I was thinking.”
“About?”
“How we’ve managed to survive everything the Wizarding and Muggle worlds have thrown at us.”
“Mmmm,” Draco kissed his scar. “Relatively intact despite everything.”
Harry sighed happily. “I love you, Draco.”
“And I love you, Harry.”
---Fin