Harry noticed it a week later. The staff seemed unusually agitated and Dumbledore seldom came to the feasts or even to breakfast. Even Ron noticed it.

"Maybe they're drawing straws as to who will teach Defense," said Ron mouth full of toast. A Defense teacher still hadn't shown up even after a week of school and Hermione voiced her concerns almost daily, mostly because of lost marks. "And who wants to teach that when you're certain to be gone in a year?"

"That's You-Know-Who's fault," whispered Hermione. "He cursed the position."

"It's a plum job though, you have to admit," he said, swallowing. "The glamour job."

"If you don't get killed," said Harry, thinking of Quirrell. He thought about him a lot in the last few days.

Owls began arriving, and Harry looked back over his shoulder at Draco as he always did, and finally, an owl dropped before the Slytherin. Draco's face broke into the most beautiful smile Harry had ever seen. "Finally," he whispered. Draco took the scroll from the owl's leg and unrolled it then and there. His eyes tracked, absorbed in reading. He smiled a few times and then rolled it up. He raised his head and smiled at Harry, waving the scroll.

"Draco's got a letter from his mum," he said. Hermione glanced back and smiled.

"I'm so pleased. He's really been worried."

"Who cares?" said Ron. He pulled up short and winced, looking at Harry. "Sorry, mate. Old habits."

"Look, Ron. He's trying for my sake. The least you can do is try, too."

"I am, but it isn't easy. He's been rotten longer than he's been nice. Come to think of it, he's still not nice. Not to us."

The Ravenclaw Prefect came up to Harry and he looked up at her curiously. "Dumbledore wants to see you after breakfast, Harry."

"Thanks," said Harry. He looked at his friends and shrugged. What could it be this time? He didn't find another Horcrux, did he? Harry's heart began a quick tattoo. If he did then that would mean-

He rose. He suddenly wasn't hungry anymore. Might as well go now. He glanced over his shoulder and spotted the Ravenclaw talking to Malfoy. He was suddenly relieved. So it wasn't that. Draco was being called to the Headmaster's office as well.

They walked together, Harry resisting the urge to hold Draco's hand, not that the Slytherin would let him anyway. "I saw you got a letter from your mum," said Harry.

Draco smiled and pulled it from his robes. "Want to hear it?"

"Yeah."

"My dearest Draco," he read. "It was so good to hear from you. I am so pleased you are well. I don't know what to say about you and your new 'friend'-" and he looked up sheepishly at Harry-"but if it makes you happy, it can only do the same for me as well."

"I feel as if I am a prisoner here. I cannot leave, I cannot stay alone. I wish I could come to you, but this is our home. I know the moment I leave it, it will be surrendered to the Ministry. Your father wouldn't be pleased by that."

"Yes, I miss him, too. I miss our little family-" Draco stopped. His voice broke. He raised his hands to his eyes and Harry took him in his arms.

"Draco, I'm so sorry."

"Can't be helped, can it? He tried to kill you, didn't he?" He tried to put a brave face on it but his anger overtook it. "It's all the Dark Lord's fault! I hate him!"

"Me, too."

He looked at Harry and suddenly laughed. Mouth in a grimace, face wet, Draco laughed and Harry laughed, at the absurdity that they should both hate Voldemort for two entirely different reasons.

He waved the letter and rolled it up again. "Anyway, the rest is full of mushy stuff."

Harry kissed Draco, took his arm, and proceeded down the corridor.

Dumbledore welcomed them, offered them chairs, sweets, and when there was nothing left to offer them, sat at his desk and looked them over.

"I called the two of you here for a very special reason. We have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. And I would like to introduce him to the two of you first."

Dumbledore's eyes focused behind the boys, and perplexed, Harry turned around to look. It was just instinct. He didn't know how he got to his feet or how his wand was in his hand and aiming.

He was all too familiar to Harry, though he had never looked so haggard before. His eyes were sunken into dark sockets, his bright hair lay limp against his shoulders, and the fire he had seen in those cold eyes burned only dimly if at all.

But Draco was also on his feet and running; running toward him and clasped his arms about him, murmuring, "Father, Father..."

Harry turned back to Dumbledore, his face red with anger. How could you do this to me? he wanted to ask.

"Please, Lucius. Sit. You must be weary from your journey."

Lucius Malfoy walked slowly to the seat indicated, with Draco still clinging to him, his face buried in his father's robes.

"Harry. Please sit down."

"I don't want to sit down." All those feelings of anger he had harbored for Dumbledore in his fifth year came tumbling out again. He wanted to thrash the place as he had done before. "What is he doing here?"

"That's not a very healthy attitude, Potter," said Lucius Malfoy. He may look haggard, but his voice was just as oily as it had been before. He patted Draco's hand as his son finally withdrew from him and sat down. Draco seemed torn. He kept looking worshipfully at his father but wouldn't raise his eyes to Harry.

"You tried to kill me! To deliver me to Voldemort."

"Yes, well. Things...change."

"You're an evil git. They don't change."

"Now Harry," said Dumbledore. "This is the reason I brought you here. You must compose yourself."

"You're not seriously entertaining the notion of having this Death Eater teach a class. You can't be saying that!"

"Harry, if you will sit down and listen."

"NO!" It was all pouring out now. The hurt, the conniving behind his back. "I'm tired of sitting and listening to you. You never tell me anything when I need to know it, only when you want to tell me. And now you want to put this Death Eater in charge of teaching us how to defend against the Dark arts? That's mental!"

"HARRY POTTER. SIT DOWN!"

Harry sat hard. Dumbledore's enhanced voice still rang in his ears. He clutched the chair arm and glared at Malfoy who looked back at him mildly, one brow raised.

"If you will allow me to explain, Harry, you might be better able to accept it. Now, Mr. Malfoy...that is, Professor Malfoy-" Harry squirmed at that. I'll NEVER call him that! "-will be taking on the duties of teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. How this came about is a long story which I will try to shorten here. When Mr. Malfoy was arrested at the Ministry it was indeed to trick you into retrieving the Prophecy and to snatch you for Voldemort. He admits this. This is why he was sent to Azkaban."

"A horrible place," said Lucius with a shudder.

"Good!" snarled Harry.

Draco darted a glance at Harry then, his face a mask of anguish. Harry didn't look at him again. This was between him and Lucius Malfoy.

"I have been visiting Mr. Malfoy over the last year, talking with him."

"If he's told you he's reformed then he's lying."

"Yes, I know."

Lucius stiffened at that and straightened his cravat.

"He's a very good liar, as I expect most Slytherins...and a few Gryffindors...are." His eyes gave the merest of twinkles. "And though he is an accomplished Occlumens I am even better at Legilimency. Simply put, Mr. Malfoy was far safer in Azkaban than he would have been back in Voldemort's clutches. Voldemort was not pleased that Lucius failed at the Ministry. He failed to get the Prophecy that Voldemort so needed to hear, and he failed to capture or kill you. Mr. Malfoy was of the opinion that had he returned to Voldemort he would have most certainly been killed."

Harry resisted offering another "good!" seeing as how Draco was reacting to all of this.

"Mr. Malfoy had a great deal of time to think matters over in Azkaban. Even without the Dementors it is not a pleasant place. As any Slytherin, he recalculated his odds, weighed the pros and cons, and came to the conclusion that the side of Light had the best advantage. Therefore, he wanted to offer his services to our side."

"A turncoat when the going gets rough? Oh that's brave, isn't it?"

"I never professed to any sort of bravery, Potter," said Malfoy with a sneer. It was the same sneer Harry had seen Draco wear countless times. "It is as Dumbledore suggests. We Malfoys choose the best side for our purposes. Not the right side or the most courageous side, but the most advantageous side. Just as Draco has surely taken up with you."

"It's not like that with me and Draco!" He looked at his lover then, but Draco wouldn't lift his gaze to Harry. Harry blinked. No. That wasn't why Draco was his lover. He said he loved Harry. It wasn't because Harry was on the winning side...was it?

"I may be wrong...." said Lucius, shrugging, but his small smile left the notion so open-ended that Harry could make no other conclusion. His heart suddenly ached terribly.

"Now Lucius," said Dumbledore. "Let us not bring Harry's personal life into it. What he and Draco share is surely beyond politics."

"Of course, Headmaster."

"And so," continued Dumbledore, "I concluded that it might be wise to take Mr. Malfoy from Azkaban before Voldemort could get to him. I convinced the Ministry and him that to work for the Light would not only save his life, his home, and his family, but offer him a chance at a new life after the war was ended. Hogwarts is the safest place to be and Mr. Malfoy is very experienced in Dark arts and in Voldemort's methods that I felt he was the best candidate not only to teach the class but to tutor you, Harry."

"I refuse to learn a thing from him. I don't trust him. I don't know why you do."

"Because he has a great deal to lose if he does not follow all of my directives."

"Lose what?"

"Everything."

Harry clamped his mouth shut. He looked at Malfoy, and for once, his eyes were lowered and Harry sensed something different about him. His shoulders slumped just a little, a posture of surrender. And for someone like Lucius Malfoy, this was a great deal. Everything? He'd already lost that when he went to prison. So what did Dumbledore mean? Did he mean he threatened Narcissa? Draco?

Harry felt numb. What good was a war when both sides resorted to the same tactics? But maybe Harry was wrong. He knew he was naïve about many things. He didn't always understand the motivation of others, especially wizards. They often had an odd way of thinking about things. Raised as a Muggle, Harry had a different perspective.

He suddenly decided that-at seventeen-it was perhaps time for him to weigh his options and recalculate his odds. They weren't too good if he had to face Voldemort today. Who was really better to help him than someone straight from the devil's lair?

It was the mature thing to do. But Harry didn't have to like it.

"All right," said Harry softly. "It makes sense. But if he steps out of line even once-I don't care if you call him the Minister for Magic-I'm hexing him with all I've got!"

Dumbledore nodded. "I believe that is fair. Lucius?"

"My, my, Headmaster. I would have thought your students here were far more disciplined. But I see that, as usual, Potters always get their own way."

Dumbledore was silent, but Harry recognized the dangerous glint in his eye.

Lucius seemed to as well and ploughed ahead. "I understand that Potter is...staying...with Draco in his rooms."

"Yes, Lucius. It is safer for Harry there."

And suddenly, Harry felt used again. Safer for him, yes, but Draco also served as his human shield if Lucius felt he could take matters into his own hands. Harry hated this war with renewed passion.

"Very well. Your Defense class is coming up soon. I trust we will all do our best. And just to make certain, I've assigned you an assistant, Lucius."

Malfoy had risen, and he looked back at Dumbledore surprised. "An assistant? But we never discussed-"

"Well, as Headmaster I do tend to make decisions on my own occasionally. Firenze will assist you."

"Who?"

Harry smiled. Dumbledore wasn't as mental as he sometimes appeared. The centaur would protect Harry and the others in case Lucius got any notions. Brilliant.

"He's a centaur," said Harry, taking vicious delight in Malfoy's expression. He knew Lucius had disdain for any creatures other than Pureblood wizards and witches. Having a centaur in the class with him must certainly irk his Pureblood fantasies.

Draco didn't look too keen on it either.

"Well...That will certainly make things...interesting," said Malfoy.

* * *

As soon as Harry and Draco were dismissed, Harry fumed down the corridor. He had to talk to Draco but he didn't know if he could in the state he was in.

"Hey Harry!" Harry turned to face his lover. The blond stood alone in the corridor and he suddenly looked small and vulnerable. Funny, since he was taller than Harry. Thin and lank like his father, with that same pointed face, that same hair, that same sneer. Although he wasn't wearing a sneer now.

"Harry. We have to talk."

He stomped up to Draco. "You're damned right we have to talk."

"This is awkward. I'm ecstatic to see my father, whereas you...well. You want to kill him, don't you?"

"For starters. What did he mean when he said you took up with me for the same reason he changed sides?"

"Maybe that's what he thought. But it isn't true."

"Isn't it? But Slytherins are so good at lying."

"And so are Gryffindors," he said, the sneer returning. "And they're so good at keeping secrets."

"Will you get over that!"

"Not if you're going to throw my past up in my face."

"THAT MAN TRIED TO KILL ME!"

"THAT MAN IS MY FATHER!"

Stalemate. "Maybe we should just give it a rest for a bit," said Harry, each syllable tearing a bit out of his heart.

"W-what do you mean?"

"I mean...I'll stay in my dorm. Where I belong."

"But...Harry. I love you."

"Yeah. Well. I don't know what I'm feeling right now." He turned and walked away. He didn't notice until he'd gotten to the bottom of the stairs that his face was wet.

* * *

Harry knew he'd catch hell for skipping potions but he couldn't make himself go. Not with Snape. He'd rather spend the time by the lake. Besides, it was bad enough that the next class was Defense. Should he go? All his friends would be there, wondering what happened to him. And Draco. Why had he done that to Draco? Could he really trust the man? They'd been together for almost two years. Couldn't he trust him by now? On the other hand, he was a Slytherin and worse; a Malfoy.

But he'd loved him. He did love him. But was Harry just being stupid and sentimental? His life depended on his making the right choices right now.

He dragged himself to his feet and shuffled back to the castle, his book bag trailing behind him.

Trudging to the back of the crowd at the Defense classroom, Hermione came up to him. "Harry! Where have you been? We've been so worried."

"In Dumbledore's office. We've got a new Defense teacher."

"So I gathered," she said, surveying the agitated crowd. "Did you meet him?"

"Oh yeah. We had a nice chat. It's Lucius Malfoy."

"WHAT!"

Everyone fell silent and turned toward Harry.

"But he's in Azkaban," said someone.

"Not anymore," said Harry, voice brightly thick with sarcasm. "Dumbledore's sprung him. Aren't we lucky to have someone who knows the Dark arts so intimately?"

"I should think so, Potter," said Lucius behind him.

"Right on time, Mr. Malfoy," said Harry, glaring at him.

"That's Professor Malfoy, Potter. Or shall I take points?"

"You just go ahead and try."

He strode up to Harry and looked at him down the length of his aristocratic nose. He smiled. "I suppose one should give you the benefit of the doubt. Being the Chosen One and all. At least on the first day, eh, Potter?"

He cast the doors open and strode in. The others followed cautiously. Hermione and Ron were still staring after him, remaining in the corridor.

"Has Dumbledore lost his mind?" asked Ron.

"Not entirely," said Harry, waiting for the sound he longed to hear.

Suddenly, the fireplace whooshed and, ducking, Firenze trotted out. Everyone ooed and awed. Firenze swiveled his head and looked about under lowered lids. "Ah, Harry Potter. It is good to see you well."

"Thanks, Firenze. It's very good to see you here."

"Yes. Well. Introductions," said Lucius. "I am Professor Malfoy and this is my assistant, Firenze. However, any questions concerning spells and hexes must be directed to me."

Everyone seated themselves just as the door squeaked open again. Lucius looked up. "Draco. You were almost late. Wouldn't do to take points from Slytherin, now would it? Sit down."

Harry told himself not to look, but he couldn't help it. Draco looked bad. He'd obviously been crying and he sat by himself in the back.

Hermione nudged Harry. "Harry, what's going on?"

"Tell you later."

"Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts, seventh years," Lucius went on. "There's no need to tip toe here. It's a dangerous world out there. I ought to know. I caused much of it." The room fell absolutely silent. But Hermione put up her hand, stiff and tall.

Lucius pivoted his head and glared at her. "Miss Granger. You have something to say?"

"Yes, sir, I do. Why is a convicted Death Eater teaching this class?"

There were a few gasps. But Harry was proud of her. He smiled wide.

"As usual, Gryffindors act before they think. Ten points from Gryffindor. In defending against the dark arts, you will have to think before you act. Yes, I am a convicted Death Eater. Who better to teach you all that you need to know in these dark times? Do you think the war will not fall on your doorstep? Do you know people who have died? Families who have fled the country in the mistaken notion that they will be safe?"

"But you killed some of them!" said Ron, bristling to stand up. Harry saw his wand tight in his fist.

"I did no such thing. You cannot prove it, in any case, and you are out of turn, Weasley. Another ten points from Gryffindor. Certainly Dumbledore would never have appointed me if that were true."

"Wizards killing their own kind is bad enough," said Firenze. "But the killing of defenseless Muggles is another. But there will be no more of that. Your task, Malfoy, is to teach these colts to defend against the evil of Voldemort. It is best to get to it and forget the stupidity of house points. I'll restore them all at any rate."

Malfoy's face reddened in anger. He glared impotently at the centaur. Suddenly, he calmed, brushing his hair back from his face. "My...unusual friend here is correct. The Dark Lord does not care about house points and petty differences. If anything, he will use them against us, forcing us to fight amongst ourselves. We must be better than that. Pair up!"

Everyone found their partners. Only Harry was without anyone...as was Draco. They looked across the room at one another. "Hermione, pair with me," hissed Harry.

"But I'm with Ron."

"Hermione, please!"

"Just go over to Draco. Whatever it is, this is bigger than that."

Harry gritted his teeth. Fisting his wand, he stomped over to him. Draco turned his head, pretending not to look at him. "I guess we're partners," said Harry.

"That's what you think," Draco muttered.

"Are we ready?" asked Lucius. "One of you pick your best curse and the other will defend against it. Ready? Begin."

The other pairs began dueling, and curses and hexes whizzed across the room amid shouts and scrambling.

Harry and Draco simply stood, looking at one another, their wands pointed downward toward the floor.

Malfoy's shadow suddenly fell over them. "Well? Have you both forgotten your hexes?"

Harry looked down at his wand. "I..."

"Potter, it may be that you will confront familiar faces on the battleground. Do not let sentimentality undo you. Raise your wand and duel."

"But that doesn't make me any better than Voldemort."

"And now you have understanding."

He looked up at Lucius, his sneer, his cold eyes so like Draco's...but vastly different as well.

"I am already too much like him," said Harry so softly Lucius leaned forward to hear. "I can't afford to be any more like him." Harry lowered his wand and put it in his robe. Before he could blink, Malfoy's was out and aimed at Harry.

But before the curse could hit Harry, a shield surrounded him and the curse bounced off. Lucius ducked to avoid getting hit by it.

"Potter! How did you do that?"

"You son of a bitch! You tried to curse me!"

Malfoy grabbed Harry's robes and hauled him forward, nose to nose. "Call me a name again and you will know what a Cruciatus can really be."

All at once, and electric shock fired off of Lucius' hand and he released Harry with a yelp. He stared at his smoldering hands incredulously.

"Leave him alone, Father."

He turned to his son, the incredulous expression still molding his face. "You?"

"Yes, I did the shield and the shock. Now leave him alone."

Lucius looked from one to the other and suddenly noticed that the room had grown quiet. He glared at all the students and grabbed Harry and Draco by the shoulder. "You two. Outside!"

He shoved them through the door and slammed it shut. He squared on them. "You will not bring your bedroom shenanigans into my classroom, do you hear me? Leave them outside. Gods! You're worse than a menstrual girl, Potter!"

"I didn't start it!"

"Do I need to remind you how important this is! Not just your miserable life. I don't give a damn about you. But you seem to be the hope of the Wizarding world." He made a humourless laugh. "And don't we deserve it? Relying on a boy to save us all."

"Father-"

He turned to Draco, two tall men with hair nearly as white as snow. "Does this surprise you, my son? Perhaps when you are on the receiving end of Lord Voldemort's wrath you might see things differently. I've had time to think, Draco. I'm not just scheming here. I'm finding the best options for us all. And believe it or not-" He pointed at Harry. "This is it."

Draco looked at Harry. His face was so naked and raw that Harry knew at once that he couldn't possibly be faking it. He was frightened. Frightened for Harry. He wore that expression once before. It was in his room at the Dursleys when Harry told him he didn't think he'd survive Voldemort again. That was also when Draco said he wanted to marry him, the most romantic and important moment of his life.

Something inside him broke. He wanted so much to take Draco in his arms, tell him it was going to be all right. Before he knew what was happening, he was doing just that, right in front of Lucius Malfoy.

Draco slumped into his shoulder and Harry let him. He looked up at Malfoy whose face was appalled. Maybe he was in a little denial about his son and Harry, but there was no mistaking it now.

Draco pulled himself together quickly. He wiped his face with his hand. "I'm all right!" he said irritably, slapping Harry's hand away.

Lucius fumed. Harry didn't care. "You are both dismissed from class," he said in a quietly controlled voice. "Potter, report here after the feast. We will train for one hour."

"I'm coming, too," said Draco.

"No. Only Potter."

"No!"

He looked down at his son. Mutiny. His face said it all. But then it changed again, the ever changing, ever adapting Slytherin. "I see. Very well. Eight o'clock. Don't be late."

* * *

Harry and Draco headed for the Defense classroom after the feast. While everyone was returning to their common rooms for games and conversation, they walked in silence as if they were walking to the gallows. Finally, Draco just stopped and Harry looked back at him.

"I have to know before we get there," said Draco. "Do you still want me?"

His stomach swooped again. "Did you take up with me because I might beat Voldemort?"

"NO! I told you the truth. It happened exactly as it did. Please believe me. Just read the letters again. That was the truth."

The letters. Those marvelous letters. Harry had fallen for the boy in those letters even when he hadn't known it was Malfoy.

Harry studied his face. It was quite a handsome face, at least Harry always thought so. Even when he used to hate him, he had thought he was handsome. He looked down once and then slowly approached Draco. "I can't deny it. I love you. I can't stop. I don't want to stop. But I'm scared, Draco. I've never given my heart like this before. I want to know it's safe with you."

"It is, Harry. Really. I swear."

His face was so full of longing. Harry reached up with both hands, cupped his cheeks, and touched his lips with his own. The Slytherin's mouth was warm and sweet. He kissed Harry back gently but with some urgency.

Harry pulled away and looked into those grey eyes. "I believe you."

"You'll come tonight, won't you? Harry, please. I need you. I don't want to be without you."

He was feeling the same. His throat was thick with emotion. He nodded. "Yes, I'll come tonight."

"We don't have to do anything," said Draco, sinking into his arms. His lips trailed gently against Harry's cheek. "We could just hold each other."

"Not on your life," said Harry with a chuckle. "If I go you'll shag me proper and they'll be no argument about it."

Draco pulled back to look at him. And then his face collapsed into a smile. "Oh. You're toying with me. There's payback for that, my man. You just wait."

He kissed Draco again and then gestured with his head. "Come on, or your father will take points."

Harry didn't particularly want to talk about Lucius Malfoy. With him on staff, the Slytherins were taking a second look at Draco. Harry saw some of them talking to him again at the feast. But Draco seemed troubled by this. He didn't seem at ease with them. Harry realized that he felt better when Draco was estranged from his brethren. That wasn't very nice on Harry's part. Having Draco a little lonely made him more compliant, but was that what Harry really wanted?

Too complicated.

Lucius was drumming his long fingers on the stair baluster when they entered the Defense classroom. He straightened and moved elegantly toward them. "About time," he sneered.

Harry snorted. They weren't late.

"We're going to take at least an hour. Possibly longer," said Malfoy. "I have been instructed by the headmaster to teach you Unforgivables."

"You're joking," said Harry. "Dumbledore said that?"

"You can't believe for one moment that that man doesn't know every detail that goes on in this school, do you? He has his methods." His eyes roved about for a moment before settling on Harry again. He rolled his shoulders. "And so, Potter. I am here to continue to teach you what Barty Crouch, Jr. left off doing."

Did he have to remind Harry of that? Every unpleasant thing that ever happened to him may have involved Voldemort, but it seemed also to involve Lucius Malfoy as well.

Harry pulled out his wand and pushed up his sleeves. He was determined to be mature in front of Malfoy. "All right. What's first?"

Lucius smiled and raised his wand, transforming a chair into a dog that looked remarkably like Snuffles. Harry glared at him. "Shall we begin with Imperius?"

* * *

Harry mastered that one fairly easily. When Draco tried it, it was clear to Harry that he had done it many times before. He stared at his lover, but Draco didn't look at him. Secrets, eh? It seemed both Malfoys had many secrets. It hurt Harry's feelings a bit that Draco had never told him about this, but he guessed he couldn't expect the Slytherin to change everything about himself overnight. Besides, Harry had to admit to himself that part of Draco's attraction was his sneakiness, his bad boy image. He wouldn't want him to be a Gryffindor clone.

"Very good, Potter. You took to that rather well. One wonders how you do it. Are you certain you are supposed to be in Gryffindor?"

He knew Lucius meant it as an insult but he took pleasure in saying, "Actually, the Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin."

Both Malfoy's stopped dead and stared. "You're lying," said Draco.

But Harry didn't take his eyes off of Lucius and his horrified expression. "It's true. It said I'd do well in Slytherin. But after meeting your son I decided I didn't want to be in Slytherin so I asked to be put anywhere but there."

Draco made a screechy noise, but Lucius stepped closer to Harry, studying his face as if he had never seen it before. "It wanted to sort you into Slytherin...and you refused?"

"Yeah. That's how much I didn't want it."

"And it...sorted you elsewhere...because you asked?"

"How about that?"

Lucius suddenly looked mighty disturbed by this. "Does Dumbledore know?"

"Don't know. The Hat lives in his study. I suppose they have nice chats." Harry began to get edgy. He had only told him to throw him off guard and wipe that smug look off his face. He hadn't meant to open a kettle of worms. "W-why? I bet it happens all the time."

Lucius spun on him. "Like people speaking Parseltongue, eh? Happens all the time? I can't remember a single incident in living memory or in Hogwarts: A History where this has occurred."

"Oh really? Well...there must be. I mean, maybe no one mentioned it."

"Are you really that thick, Potter?" He turned to Draco. "Tell me Draco, is it his stupidity that attracted you? I can't imagine what else it might be."

"He's a powerful wizard, Father. I think this proves it. He's going to win."

Lucius looked torn. For once, he seemed to realize that this might actually be true. Harry swallowed past a hard lump obstructing his throat. Maybe he did have a chance. It had only been a vague hope before. But maybe, just maybe it was actually going to happen.

"Mr. Malfoy, are you saying that I might have special abilities?"

He stared at Harry anew. "Yes, Mr. Potter. I think you do indeed have special abilities. Let us see if we can't harness them." He aimed his wand at the dog. "I want to see you perform the Cruciatus on this dog."

Harry glanced at the dog who so resembled his late godfather and paused. "I don't...."

"Mr. Potter," said Lucius gently, in the same manner he often talked to Draco. "You must try."

Yes. Harry knew he had to. And not just try. He had to master it. All the Unforgivables. After all, he had to kill Voldemort. That meant learning the Avada Kedavra. No time like the present.

* * *

Later that night back in Draco's room, Harry lay pensively on the bed. They hadn't made love, only kissed a lot. But Harry had been a bit too distracted even for that. Lucius Malfoy seemed awfully surprised-almost as much as Harry had himself-that he could perform all the Unforgivables. From just one lesson. He'd done it several times. And each time was easier than the last.

Even Draco couldn't quite do the Avada Kedavra, which surprised Harry. He was certain Draco had been taught those a long time ago. He could certainly do the Cruciatus.

A gentle hand smoothed down his hair and he rolled over on the pillow to look at his lover in the firelight. "Don't think about it too much, Harry. It's just another spell, is all."

"No, it isn't. It's the spell. The ultimate spell. And I did it just as easily as a Lumos. Why, Draco? What is it about me that makes it easy for me? Am I that good a wizard? I wasn't good at much else before." But then the awful thought occurred to him and he sat up. "Or is it because I really am a Dark wizard, no better than Voldemort!"

Draco sat up too and clasped Harry in his arms. "You are not a Dark wizard. I can't imagine anyone less of a Dark wizard except for Dumbledore himself."

"But Draco." His voice broke, betraying his emotions. "I did them all so easily. I just...killed that dog. And it looked just like... I'm sure your father did that on purpose!"

"Just like what?"

He sighed. "Like my godfather."

"Your godfather was a dog?"

"No, you idiot. He was an Animagus!"

"Like Pettigrew?"

"Yes. All because of Remus Lupin." And Harry felt compelled to tell him the whole story, about his stag Patronus and further explained about the Shrieking Shack. Draco looked appalled, until his face changed after a bit of thinking about it.

"So that's the secret behind the Shrieking Shack. And that's why you knew about it. They all did it for Lupin. Can't say that I'd go to the trouble for a werewolf but...Well. I guess I'd do it for you."

Harry smiled a little and leaned his head back against Draco's shoulder. "That's nice of you to say."

"It's true."

They were silent for a time until Harry ventured a tentative, "Draco, why didn't you tell me you knew how to do Unforgivables?"

Draco's breath caught and he said nothing for a long pause before he sighed. "I didn't...I didn't want you to think less of me. I didn't want you to think I was a Death Eater or something. You already had your suspicions of me, doubting my loyalties. I don't know what else I can say to convince you."

Harry squeezed Draco's arm. "I don't think less of you," he said, uncertain if that were entirely true. "And I love you. I thought that was firmly established."

"I don't think anything's firm, do you?"

Harry reached up, took Draco's hand, and directed it to his crotch and his hardening prick. "Well this is."

"I thought you were too upset to...."

"I'm feeling better now. And I do love you. And we haven't yet made love tonight."

Draco smiled against the skin of his neck. "Well then. If you're 'up' for it, so am I." He began a leisurely perusal of Harry's skin with his lips and they went at it for the rest of the night.

But in the earliest hours of the morning, Harry's scar suddenly burst with fiery pain. He cried out and Draco bolted upright beside him. The agony was so prolonged that Harry leaned over the side of the bed and vomited on the floor.

Draco, paler than usual, ministered to him, cleaned the sick with his wand, and fetched him a glass of cold water. "Scar," Harry managed to sputter out, clutching his forehead. If he didn't, he felt his brains would ooze out. He couldn't open his eyes for the pain the meager candle flame caused him. "Must talk to Dumbledore. He knows, Draco. He knows that most of his Horcruxes are gone!"

* * *

In their dressing gowns, Harry and Draco hurried through the gloomy corridors. Draco held Harry up as the pain still pulsated in his head. He clutched the Slytherin and through the terrible throbbing he was grateful for his presence and love. He could tell Draco was terrified. He said very little. Only made encouraging sounds to Harry and squeezed him for reassurance with the arm around his shoulder and the other holding his hand.

Draco tried the password from before but it wasn't working. Dumbledore had changed it. Draco used a string of creative swearwords Harry had never heard before until the blond calmed and began to think. "How can we send a message, Harry?"

"Dobby!"

Immediately, a loud cracking sound awakened the echoes in the corridor. The house elf bowed to Harry. "Harry Potter, sir." But when he turned and spied Draco, he suddenly cringed back. His hands flew protectively over his head. "Master Malfoy!"

Draco turned a pained expression to Harry before averting his face. "Dobby. Just forget all that," said Draco impatiently. "We have to see Dumbledore but we haven't got the password."

Dobby straightened his shoulders and adjusted his jumper that hung below his knees. "Dobby is no longer the Malfoy house elf. Dobby works for Hogwarts and is friend to Harry Potter!"

"Good! Then if you are his friend you will get a message to Dumbledore!"

"Dobby doesn't listen to Master Malfoy any longer. Only Harry Potter."

"Of all the fucking-"

"Dobby," said Harry hoarsely. "Please. Go get Dumbledore!"

"Dobby is pleased to do as Harry Potter says," he said with an elaborate bow.

"Dobby. Now. Please." He sank against Draco and Dobby looked uncertain for the first time, looking from Harry to Draco and back to Harry again, noticing at last that they were clinging to one another. Dobby was gone in an instant, and another pause after that saw the gargoyle move aside and the griffin stairs revealed. Draco quickly moved Harry forward and helped him to the stair. They rode it together and when they reached the top, the door to Dumbledore's office was already open and the old wizard stood on the threshold. He moved forward to grab Harry and drew them both in. He conjured a mug of hot chocolate and handed it to Harry as he settled him on a squashy chair.

"Tell me," he said, to both of them.

"He knows, Headmaster. Voldemort knows we're after his Horcruxes. I can't...I can't-" He cried out suddenly with a new burst of pain. It felt as if someone had taken an ax to his head. He clutched it and bent forward, dropping the mug and letting it shatter on the floor. Draco knelt before him, kneeling in the shards and holding tight to Harry. Harry saw through the red pain that Draco's knees were bleeding and he tried to say something but he couldn't manage it.

But all at once the pain stopped. He looked up, and Draco was kissing his scar. His face was a mask of worry and he looked at Harry helplessly. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and lifted his hand to stroke Draco's cheek. "Thanks," he whispered. "Now please. Let Dumbledore heal your knees."

The Headmaster looked down at Draco for the first time and waved his wand, instantly cleaning the floor and healing Draco. He lifted the Slytherin easily and deposited him into a chair beside Harry.

"This is an unpleasant development. We had the element of surprise before. But I suppose it was inevitable. We must work tirelessly to discover his last Horcrux. Harry, have you been training with Lucius Malfoy?"

Harry swallowed back the bile in his throat. He was breathing easier but the memory of the pain was still fresh. "Yes. I mastered the Unforgivables."

Dumbledore said nothing and Harry finally looked up at him. Dumbledore's face held shock, and seldom had Harry ever seen him surprised. "You mastered them? All of them?"

"Yes, sir. All of them."

"In one lesson?"

"Yes, sir."

The headmaster glanced at Draco as if to confirm this. He stood and paced before the fire. The headmasters in the paintings discarded all pretenses at pretending to sleep. They stared at Harry openly. Headmaster Dibbet cocked an eye at him. "He's exceeded you, Dumbledore."

"You may very well be right," he answered and stopped his pacing to turn to Harry. "Harry," he said kindly. Frightened, Harry clutched at Draco tightly. "It seems you have skills that have accelerated. Possibly due to your connection to Voldemort. Or...possibly in spite of them."

"What does it mean, Headmaster?" He didn't want to know what it might mean. He didn't want to think that it was time to face Voldemort. Somehow that time had always seemed far off. But it was rushing toward him as fast as a curse and he didn't know-even if he could do the Unforgivables-that he could perform them under duress.

"It means, Harry, that you are a very powerful wizard and I believe you completely competent to face Voldemort."

"And win?" asked Harry.

Dumbledore smiled. "Yes, Harry. And win. And survive. I never doubted it. And in any case, I would never have let you face him if you could not. Not alone, anyway. And I have a feeling," he looked down at Draco's death grip on Harry's hand, "that you would not be alone."

A/N: Thanks to HarryxDraco for giving me the getting-Lucius-out-of-Azkaban suggestion. It started a whole new ball rolling for this fic. Now that's a community, people!


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"Turncoat"

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