"No!" cried Draco and took a halting step forward. Lucius Malfoy might very well be an accomplished actor. But Harry didn't think anyone could really be that good. He was trembling all over and his red eyes were brimming with unshed tears. He looked at his son so plaintively that Draco rushed to him and fell into his arms.

Lucius didn't seize back his wand as soon as he was surrounded by a weeping Draco. He didn't jump up and grab Harry. Instead, he sat in his chair like an old man and rocked his son in his arms as any good father would do, and Harry suddenly felt very lost and very alone.

They stayed that way for a long time until Lucius raised his eyes to Harry. There was a lot in those eyes. A mixture of protectiveness, confusion, loss...and not a little hatred toward Harry himself.

"We should go to Dumbledore," said Harry quietly, lowering his wand.

Draco turned a tear-streaked face to him. He sniffed. "Yes. Yes, Father. Dumbledore will know what to do."

"Don't you see?" hissed Lucius. "There is nothing to do! She's at the hands of the Death Eaters. I must do what he says!"

"This is your great leader, Mr. Malfoy," said Harry. He couldn't keep the disdain from his voice. "This is the creature you risked it all for."

"He was my lord. And I was faithful. But I turned from him-"

"Tell me you aren't defending him, Father. Tell me that isn't true." Draco seethed at his father, his words flecking off his lips.

Lucius seemed uncertain again. A whole lifetime of belief was going up in smoke before his face and he didn't seem to know at all how to handle it.

"Let's go to Dumbledore," Harry repeated.

They both looked at him. Lucius nodded while Draco drew away. They stood and Harry led them out of the classroom and down the corridor to Dumbledore's tower.

* * *

Dumbledore listened to Harry's explanation without uttering a word. His eyes flicked toward a penitent Lucius from time to time, but his focus was on Harry. Finally, Harry finished and Dumbledore had paced all the way to his arched window. He stared down across the valley where the sun streaked the surrounding hills with late afternoon light. He said nothing and Harry, desperate for some kind of action stepped toward him. He could not resist adding a, "Well? What are we going to do?"

"Do, Harry?" Dumbledore sighed deeply. "What would you suggest?"

"Well...we have to rescue Narcissa, I guess."

Draco rose and edged toward Harry at that.

But Dumbledore was shaking his head. "Tell him why, Lucius," he said.

"There is no possible way of rescuing her and coming out of it alive, Potter. Don't you think I've thought of that!"

"But the Aurors. The Order. Couldn't we send-"

"Harry," Dumbledore said sternly. "Did you learn nothing from your trip to the Ministry?"

"It's a trap," he said, shoulders slumping.

"I should have insisted," murmured the old wizard. "I should have made certain she came to Hogwarts."

Harry realized that the wizard was taking the blame for this. It made him angry. After all, it wasn't Dumbledore who dabbled in the Dark Arts but the Malfoys. One could almost say that she deserved this...but he couldn't actually think that with Draco looking as forlorn as he did. It was his mother after all.

Harry spun away from the headmaster and slammed his fist into his palm. There must be something he could do! He couldn't just let his lover's mother be tortured or die. Something had to be done.

A surge of...something...made Harry stand a little straighter; made his shoulders just a little wider. The Horcruxes. He absolutely had to find and destroy them. There wasn't a moment to lose. And even if it was Voldemort's plan to call him out, Harry had to do it anyway. Win or lose. This was it.

"Mr. Malfoy, I am going to get you your wife back. We've got to destroy the Horcruxes."

Lucius raised his eyes to Harry and stared at him. "Mr. Potter, you can't even imagine where the next one will be-"

"We know that one of them is Nagini. We can at least eliminate that one."

"But Nagini is with the Dark Lord himself. It will be impossible-"

"But I've got to try, haven't I? He's got to be stopped."

"No." Lucius approached Harry and looked down at him. Harry felt very short under that glare but he didn't feel intimidated any more. Not by Malfoy.

"No, Mr. Potter. If any one can get into the Dark Lord's lair...it is I."

"No, Father! You can't go back there!"

"The time has come for the Malfoys to decide. Are we for the Dark Lord, or are we for ourselves?"

"But if you die, too-" Draco choked on the last and tried to hold in his sob.

"If Nagini dies, we will force the Dark Lord out into the open. He will be forced to protect the last Horcrux, and then, Potter, you will be able to follow and find it."

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "An admirable plan. But I am afraid, Lucius, that it is too dangerous. I cannot allow it-"

"I don't care what you say, Dumbledore," he sneered. He shook his head and rustled his mane of white hair down his back. "This is Malfoy business now."

"You didn't let me finish, Lucius. What I meant to say was, it is too dangerous for you to go alone. I shall accompany you."

Lucius looked truly taken aback by this. "You...would risk yourself for Narcissa? A Malfoy?"

"Clearly, you have misunderstood the side of the Light for some time, Lucius. We do not hate or condemn individuals. Only their actions. I think you will find that most of us-Harry here particularly-possesses enough love to overcome the obstacles of hard feelings."

Lucius darted a glance at Harry. He ground his teeth. Harry could tell that he was warring within himself, wondering if he could believe it. Harry would find it hard to believe if he were in his shoes...and then he wondered why he thought about it in that way.

Finally, Malfoy nodded slowly. "If you wish to risk your neck, Headmaster, I certainly am not prepared to stop you. But...if I can have my wand returned...?" He turned to Draco. Draco handed it back in silence.

"Harry, my boy," said Dumbledore, turning to him. "This-" and a parchment landed in his hand-"will excuse you, Draco, Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley from your classes for as long as necessary. I expect the four of you to work hard to find that final Horcrux while we are gone."

"But sir--!"

"Harry." He laid his hand on Harry's shoulder. "We have made a long journey together, you and I. I only wish we could have spent more quality time together. This is my fault, of course. There always seemed to be time. But you are a young man now, a young man I would have been proud to call my son...or I suppose, grandson."

Harry's throat felt hot and thick. His eyes stung with tears.

"But the time has come for all of us to do our part. The play is not yet over. Not yet. And there is much to do before the final curtain falls. Make good use of that time. All at your disposal. You have many friends, Harry. Many advantages. Think before you do. And good luck."

Without waiting further, he took Lucius' arm, and they Disapparated together with a monstrous crack!

* * *

Harry rushed to Gryffindor tower with Draco in tow. But when the portrait swung open, Draco hung back. Harry looked over his shoulder at him. "Come on, Draco."

"You want me to go...in there?"

"Yeah. We've got to get Ron and Hermione."

Draco's brows drew down in worry.

"Come on, Draco!"

"All right! I'm coming." He stomped forward, his old self coming to the fore. But when he entered the common room after Harry, there were gasps all around. Someone pulled a wand and yelled, "Stupify!" But Harry anticipated and grabbed Draco's robe, pulling him to the floor. The hex sizzled on the tapestry behind them. "Wait, everyone! It's okay. I let him in!"

"This is really it, Harry!" said Lavender Brown stomping her foot. "Now you're letting him in our common room?"

"Look, everyone." Harry rose slowly. Draco was more wary and stood behind Harry, looking around with his wand out and ready. "Something has come up and now more than ever we've got to stick together. All of Hogwarts."

"What's happening?" asked Seamus. "Is it You-Know-Who?"

"Yes." Everyone gasped. "Really, we've got to pull together. I can't really say what me and Hermione and Ron are doing, but please give us the space to do it. Here." He handed the parchment from Dumbledore to someone in the crowd. "See that McGonagall gets this. We may have to leave Hogwarts for a bit."

Harry!" Ginny ran forward. "What can we do? Should we go with you?"

"No. I can't risk it. But anyone who was involved in Dumbledore's Army-well, you'd best alert them to be on the lookout. And those of you who weren't in it-pair up with those who were."

"Right, Harry," said Seamus, and Harry thought he might salute. He didn't mean to bark orders at them but someone had to do it.

"So, could someone get Hermione? Is she in her dorm? And where's Ron?"

"Here, mate. What's going-Blimey! What is Draco-effing-Malfoy doing in here! Is nothing sacred!"

Someone fetched Hermione and Harry grabbed both their arms and urged them out into the corridor. Draco looked relieved to be out of there. "Let's go to your room, Draco. We've got a lot to discuss."

He filled in Ron and Hermione about Lucius and Dumbledore on their way to Draco's Prefect room and once they were safely inside he sat them down. They all leaned forward watching Harry intently. It was strange, suddenly being in charge like this. He never really thought about it. All he knew is that he was supposed to kill Voldemort. And never since the end of fifth year had he wanted to do so as much as he did now. Maybe it really wasn't any stupid Prophecy, but Voldemort had done it to himself when he chose Harry over Neville. When he killed his parents and doomed him to a wretched life with the Dursleys, Voldemort had decided. He decided too much about Harry's life and enough was enough. Too many people were dying; Muggles and wizards and witches and God-knows-what other kind of creatures. It was up to Harry, up to him all along and there was no way he was going to shirk this. Even though he was scared out of his wits.

"Hermione, what have you discovered about Ravenclaw?"

"I've seen several references to Ravenclaw's cloak. Something about it seemed very important."

"Hey," said Ron, perking up. "Could it have been an Invisibility Cloak?"

Hermione nodded. "That is certainly possible. The indications in the books seem to say that it might still be somewhere in the castle."

"This castle?" asked Harry.

"Yes. Each founder had their own secret rooms. Slytherin had the Chamber of Secrets and others had rooms as well, but nothing so dangerous as to house a dangerous monster."

"Have the other rooms been found?"

"Godric Gryffindor's. But none of the others."

"Where's Gryffindor's?"

Hermione smiled briefly. "You've been there many times. It's the Headmaster's office."

"Oh. That isn't so secret."

"It isn't now. But according to Hogwarts: A History, that wasn't always the case."

"Any clues in there that might help?" asked Draco.

"I've tried to figure it out but there isn't enough information."

Ron pushed his ginger hair off his face. "Is there any spell we can use to find them?"

"I've tried that, too."

"Merlin, Granger! Is there any good news?"

"I've been thinking. I wonder if any of the ghosts were here when the founders were."

"I've met most of them," said Harry, recalling Nearly Headless Nick's deathday party. "I don't think any of them are old enough."

Draco toyed with his wand, thinking. "What about the Sorting Hat?"

They all looked at him. He threw his shoulders back and scowled at them. "I was just asking!"

"Draco," said Hermione getting to her feet. "That's brilliant!"

Her stance got Harry excited and he stood, too. "We could ask the Hat!"

"Blimey!" said Ron, getting up because everyone else had. "But if Dumbledore's gone, how do we get into his office?"

Draco stood. "McGonagall. She can get in, I bet."

"Let's go!" said Harry, suddenly feeling better. He hated feeling useless. He wanted to do something, and this was better than nothing.

McGonagall was already teaching and they crept into her Transfigurations class. They stood at the back, not quite knowing what to do. She was waving her wand instructing the first years when she looked up and noticed them with a start. She blustered in her lesson for a minute more before distractedly instructing them to practice the spell. She hitched up the hem of her robe and hurried down the centre aisle toward them. In a rasping whisper she demanded, "What are you doing here?" But the fact that it was the Golden Trio...plus one...must have given her a moment's pause. Her face looked more concerned than angry at the intrusion.

"Sorry to barge in, Professor," said Harry. "But did the Headmaster tell you...?"

"Yes, Potter, I received a note. But what are you four doing here?"

"We need to get into the Headmaster's office."

"I'm afraid you can't. The Headmasters puts all sorts of wards on his offices when he is away. No one can get in."

Harry's heart sank. Why were there always so many damned obstacles!

Hermione thanked McGonagall and ushered them out of the classroom. Harry scowled at her. Why was she pushing them around? They needed McGonagall's help, didn't they?

"Nothing can go in," she said with a gamin smile. "But what about getting out?" She raised her wand in the air. "Accio Sorting Hat!"

They waited. It seemed like a long time. Harry stared at Hermione, at first dumbstruck at how clear-headed she could be, and then angry that she had raised their hopes up.

But sure enough, they heard something odd in the air in the distance and bolting around the corner, was the sullen-looking Sorting Hat who suddenly slammed into Hermione's hand.

"Got you!" she said, much as Harry always thought in his head when grabbing the Snitch.

"This is most outrageous!" fumed the Hat. "Never, in all my years at Hogwarts, has a student presumed to Accio me. You must return me at once!"

"We apologize," said Hermione in her best mollifying tone. "We really do. But it's very important that we talk to you and the Headmaster's office was shut up tight."

"Yes, and there is a very good reason for that. Those are his things in there! Oh these modern students! They think they know better. Yes, yes I see. There's Harry Potter. Thinks he knows better than the Hat, doesn't he? Telling me which house to put him in. Presumptuous brats!"

Draco darted a glance at Harry that seemed to say, "So you were telling the truth!"

"Please...er...Hat," said Harry, not quite sure how to address an animated inanimate object. "We need some information on the Founders."

"Everything a student needs to know can be found in Hogwarts: A History. I suggest you do the unthinkable and READ!"

"What we want isn't in that book," he said, getting a bit testy. After all, he was arguing with a hat. "You were here. You have something of all the Founders within you. We were looking for the secret rooms they each had."

"Ah!" said the Hat doing its best to smile. "You want to know that, do you? Don't you think every Headmaster since then has asked me that question? And do you think I told them?"

Harry sighed and looked at Hermione. "I guess Dumbledore probably asked where the Chamber of Secrets was."

"Yes, he did," said the Hat triumphantly. "But I did not tell him!"

"Why? That was a terrible place with a hideous beast. It killed a girl once and nearly killed one of my best friends."

"Because," said the Hat. "Because...I don't know where it is. There!"

"Bloody hat," muttered Ron.

"Oh this is no help," sighed Hermione.

"Give it here," said Draco and snatched it from Hermione's grasp. He tightened his grip on it. "Look here, Hat. I won't play games with you. Either you tell us what we need to know or I'll cast an Incendio on you, and don't think I won't!"

"Draco!" hissed Harry.

But the Hat merely looked at Draco. At least Harry thought it did. "A Slytherin to the last," said the Hat. "I didn't even need to look into your mind, Malfoy. I knew. Every Malfoy that ever was ended up in Slytherin. But strangely...hmm. If today I were to sort you, I'd have a difficult time. Slytherin, certainly, but there are now essences of Gryffindor I might consider."

Draco nearly dropped the hat. "What? You're mental! I'd never go to Gryffindor. I'd die first!"

"Thanks," said Harry.

"No offense," he said offhandedly. "And don't try to distract me," he said to the Hat. "We need something from Ravenclaw. We need to find where she left the cloak."

The Hat seemed to look from one to the other. "Don't be fools. You've all seen it before, many times."

"We have?" asked Hermione, drawing closer.

"Of course, you silly girl. He has it!" And it turned toward Harry.

"My father's cloak? That's it?"

"Of course. Didn't you know you were a descendant of Ravenclaw? Through your maternal grandparent's side."

"No. I didn't. So my Invisibility Cloak is Ravenclaw's cloak?"

"Yes, yes. Didn't I say that already?"

"No need to get shirty," he muttered, thinking. "Well. We'd best get my cloak, then."

"Seems a shame to destroy it," said Ron. "You've gotten some good use out of it."

"That's for sure." But when he looked at Draco he was scowling.

"So it's true. You have an Invisibility Cloak. Figures. I knew you weren't that clever, Potter."

"Do we really have time for this?"

Draco glared at the Hat. "What do we do with this?"

Harry shrugged. "Dunno. I suppose we could leave it in McGonagall's office."

Hermione took it gently from Draco's hand. "It's been awfully useful. I say we hold on to it."

"Look a little odd, won't it?" said Draco. "Carrying that thing about?"

"True. We'll shrink it." Hermione waved her wand and it shrunk to the size of an Ice Mice packet. She stuffed it in the pocket of her robe. "Let's get your cloak, Harry."

"Yeah. Okay." Harry moved his legs but his mind wasn't on it. First of all, that had belonged to his father. It was really the only thing he had from his Dad. And it had served him well for the last few years. He really hated to destroy it. But the awful thought that he had engulfed himself in one of Voldemort's soul pieces made him a bit ill.

They reached Gryffindor tower and Harry went in alone to retrieve it. What if it wasn't the Horcrux, he thought as he ascended the dorm stairs. What if it was just a coincidence? And how did Voldemort manage to get a hold of it to make it into a Horcrux anyway? And how was something so valuable left in Dumbledore's hands? Surely his Dad could still have used it when they were hiding out from Voldemort. There were so many things he still needed to know and Dumbledore was never anywhere near him when he had all these questions that needed answering.

His anger at Dumbledore quickly turned to guilt. He and Lucius Malfoy were on a dangerous mission, after all. If they succeeded then there would be only the one Horcrux left and with any luck that was within their reach. But would Lucius Malfoy and Dumbledore survive their mission?

Harry opened his trunk and took out the shimmery cloak. He stared at it, trying to discern merely by looking at it if it was the owner of an evil slice of soul. It looked the same as it always had. What a terrible loss to destroy it. He put it on, again, trying to feel if it possessed any evil and made his way invisibly out of the dorm and out of the common room. He whipped it off when he met the others outside the Fat Lady portrait.

"I knew it!" said Draco. "That time in Hogsmeade. Your disembodied head. That was it, wasn't it?"

"Give it a rest, Draco," he breathed. The three old friends looked at the cloak. "Shame, really," said Harry. "And I was thinking. How do you suppose Voldemort got a hold of it?"

"Must have been when he went to your house at Godric's Hollow," said Ron.

"No," said Harry. "He couldn't have. He killed my dad first and then he went after my mum. When he tried to kill me that was it. The bugger became incorporeal. Poof."

"But you received it, you said, from Dumbledore," said Hermione. "Perhaps he managed to steal it back from Voldemort at some point."

"I don't know. All I know is that this is one of the only things I have of my parents and I don't want to destroy it if I don't have to."

"Is there a way to test it?" asked Draco.

They stood in silence for a time. "Maybe we should ask someone," said Harry.

"But who?" asked Ron.

"Someone very good at spells and Charms. How about Professor Flitwick?"

Hermione shook her shaggy head. "But then we'd have to explain about Horcruxes, and I'm sure Dumbledore wouldn't want everyone to know."

"Snape," said Draco. "He already knows and he's good at hexes and things."

Harry certainly didn't want to ask for the Potions Master's help, but he didn't see any way around it. He nodded once, and led the way to the dungeons.

* * *

They waited until his class was finished, thinking that he'd be less helpful if they barged in as they did for McGonagall. He was still scowling when they entered and looked up, his beetle black eyes narrowing as he took in the four figures.

"Professor," Harry began, but Snape cut him off.

"Mr. Potter. And...entourage. To what do I owe the pleasure? I was just given this very interesting missive from the Headmaster explaining that you would be missing classes today and...." He raised the parchment and squinted at it. "'For however long is necessary.' Dear me. This must be important indeed."

"It is, sir!" Stupid prat, thought Harry. What did he think it was about? "It's about Voldemort, sir, and the...uh...items."

Snape sat up straighter. He lifted his wand and the dungeon door slammed and locked. "Can't you take the least little precaution by closing the door when you enter?" he snapped.

"Sorry. But we think we may have one here and I don't want to destroy it if I can help it."

"Sentimentality, Potter? Over the fate of the Wizarding world? Let me see. Which is more important?"

Words were useless with Snape. Harry wrestled the cloak from his book bag and showed it. "Ah. I see," said Snape. "That infernal cloak of your father's. You think it is a Horcrux?"

"It's Ravenclaw's cloak."

Snape shut his lips at that and fingered the lithe fabric. "Extraordinary," he whispered.

"The thing of it is, sir, we can't be sure it is a Horcrux and I don't want to destroy it if I don't have to. So are there any spells we can use on it to determine if it is a Horcrux?"

Snape drew back and scowled at the cloak. "Yes. There might be." He turned his back on them and went to his book shelf, running his finger over the spines. He pulled a book from its shelf and opened it on his desk, flipping pages and stopping to read occasionally. Finally, he seemed to find something and settled in for a nice long read.

Harry looked at Draco who gave him a concentrated and reassuring gaze. He knew that Ron and Hermione's love and support could easily sustain him, but with the added emotions Draco offered him, he was often filled with an overwhelming glut of feelings that not only sustained him, but made him feel as if he was hovering amongst the clouds. He supposed being in love did that. Kind of girly, really.

Snape continued reading but held out his hand to Harry, presumably for the cloak. He began incanting a spell while pointing his wand at the garment laid out on his desk. A gathering mist lifted from the fabric; a purple mist that swirled with a life of its own. Harry took an unconscious step back.

Finally, Snape stopped speaking and the fabric trembled and was still. "This spell does not detect Horcruxes per se, as indeed, none of the books at Hogwarts are Dark enough to contain information on them. But it is designed to detect the properties of an object. You will be pleased to note, that your father's cloak does not appear to be a Horcrux."

Harry was overjoyed, but his companions did not share his sentiments. He realized it meant that their search continued, but he hadn't wanted it to be his father's cloak. They had been such good companions and it would have felt as if some beloved pet had suddenly turned vicious.

They thanked Snape who did not acknowledge their thanks, and left the dungeons with sloped shoulders. "Now what?" asked Ron.

"I think Draco should continue with his potion," said Harry.

"It's done, actually," he said, grey eyes unreadable under a long blond fringe.

"It is?"

"A delivery system. You said you had an idea."

"Yeah. I've got to take a little trip to Muggle London and then we've got to sit down and really put our heads together on this. We absolutely must find the other Horcrux."

"Muggle London?" asked Draco, a worried tinge to his voice. "You're not going alone, are you?"

"It's just a quick trip. Be back quick as a wink."

"Are you going to try to Apparate? You haven't had lessons yet."

Harry studied Draco. "I suppose you know how."

Draco reddened and looked from Ron, to Hermione, to Harry. "Well...Yes. My father...." But there was no need to finish that statement.

Harry took Draco's arm. "Why don't you take me, then?"

"Harry," cautioned Hermione as they escorted him and Draco to an Apparation point outside the Hogwarts grounds. "Don't you think this is a little dangerous?"

"You think Voldemort's just waiting for me to Apparate to Muggle London? I think I'll be fine."

They reached the point and Harry squeezed Draco's arm tighter. "We'll be all right," he reassured. "Okay," he told his boyfriend.

Draco Disapparated with Harry beside him and it was a distinctly uncomfortable feeling. They arrived in an alley and Harry directed Draco to a shop. Draco stayed close to Harry, not being familiar or comfortable with Muggles and Muggle things. Harry showed Draco what he wanted. Draco looked at him dubiously, but he assured the blond that it would work. They made their purchase and quickly left the shop, Apparating back outside Hogwarts' gates. They found Ron and Hermione loitering outside Draco's rooms.

"That was fast," said Hermione.

Draco rubbed his arms as if washing them from some filth. "Didn't want to linger."

"Why didn't you guys go in?" asked Harry.

"Door wouldn't open for us," said Ron. "Even with the password. Must be spelled to only let the Ferret-er...Malfoy in."

"What did you call me, Weasley?"

"Uh...well. Sorry. Just habit."

Draco never talked about the episode where Barty Crouch, Jr. in the guise of Mad-Eye Moody tansfigured him into a ferret. Harry suspected he never would.

"Shall we go in?" urged Harry, changing the subject.

Draco spoke the password and the door appeared, allowing them in at last.

"Found out anything?" asked Harry to Hermione.

"No. I was just about to head to the Library. How about this potion, Draco? What exactly does it do?"

"Makes the victim want to be your absolute best friend. But decidedly closer than that."

"So he won't be in love with me, right?" It made Harry's stomach turn to imagine it.

"No. I can't think of anything more disgusting than that, can you?"

Harry just shivered in answer. Draco took Harry in his arms, ignoring the sound Ron was making. "There's no way I want that scaly bugger to have any of those thoughts for you, Harry." It was clear to Harry that Draco was leaning forward to kiss him. But for some reason, he was reluctant to do that in front of his friends. He squirmed out of Draco's arms instead.

"Er...Draco. I think we should work on the...uh...Horcrux problem."

Draco looked at him oddly but let it go.

Hermione left for the library, and Ron looking like a third wheel decided to join her.

Harry turned to Draco. "I don't think we should do that in front of them."

Draco popped up from his place on the settee. It looked as if he was ready for this argument. "Why not? Other couples do it."

"But we're not like other couples. Face it, Draco. This is different. Not everyone is accepting of it, you know."

"Oh, you think I don't know? Me, who has to hide out in a Prefect's room away from his own house?"

"Draco...."

"No. You think that I don't know what other people are thinking. But the point of it is I don't care. That's their problem as far as I'm concerned. My concern is my lover. But if he doesn't want to snog in front of his homophobic friends, then I guess I have no choice but to go along. Again."

"My friends are not homophobic. If anything they are...well...Malfoy-phobic."

"It amounts to the same thing. You are going to let others decide for you what is or is not allowed. You know, I'm not sorry for telling Snape and the whole class that we are lovers. I wanted them to know. I wanted an end to speculation. I wanted them to know that Harry Potter chose me above everyone else. And that makes me special too. That's why I said it and I'd do it again."

Harry stared at him. Stupid wanker. He knew Draco had done it on purpose. The show off. Except that it was pretty sweet, his wanting to prove that Harry chose him. He tried to stay angry but couldn't. He shook his head and grinned instead. "What am I going to do with you, Malfoy?"

"I can think of a thing or two, Potter." And he took a step closer.

"Draco, we're supposed to be working on the Horcrux problem."

"All work and no play makes Potter a dull boy. And you don't want to be dull, do you?" He kept creeping closer until he stood no more than a foot apart. Harry felt his body heat and he longed to press his lips to Draco's so tantalizingly close.

"We can take a break, can't we?" He leaned in and touched his lips very lightly to Harry's. That was it. Harry had no desire to put him off. He stepped forward and pressed himself chest to chest with Malfoy and opened his mouth into the kiss. God, how he needed this man! Draco's hands clasped around him and Harry snaked his own arms up to the back of Draco's head. They clung together in an engulfing kiss, until Draco's hand fell to Harry's bottom and squeezed a pliant cheek. Draco's lips drew back just enough to mouth Harry's. "I want to fuck you, Harry," he breathed. "Will you let me? I want to be deep inside you."

The crude words sent Harry's senses reeling. Yes, he wanted to be fucked by Draco. Not fawned over or even made love to. He wanted it as crude as Malfoy was making it seem. Harry threw back his head and Malfoy nuzzled the soft skin of his neck. "Please," Harry gasped, lost.

Draco tucked a finger into his lover's tie and pulled the knot loose. He unbuttoned the shirt quickly and pushed it over Harry's shoulders. The shirt hung loosely still tucked into his trousers, but those were next as Draco busily worked the belt buckle opened. Down came the zip and then the trousers. Harry quickly toed off shoes and then his socks before stepping out of his trousers. Draco took a moment to savor Harry in his Y-fronts, running the flat of his hand over Harry's erection and reaching lower to cup his scrotum. He squeezed it tenderly and sighed against his neck. "Oh Harry. I love this package of yours."

Harry groaned in reply. He wanted to be naked just then; naked to Draco's eyes, his hands, his lips. And just as Harry thought this with a whimper, the Slytherin hooked his fingers into the elastic waistband and eased them down. Once they passed his hips, they slipped to his ankles and Harry kicked them off to land somewhere.

Draco was working his own tie and shirt now. Harry helped him, panting into Draco's throat. "Must see your skin," he murmured.

Draco chuckled softly. "Patience, love. You don't want to tear my shirt, do you?"

"Yes!" Harry hissed, yanking it off of him.

Draco dived for Harry's ear and pulled at it gently with his teeth. "Ooh. Aren't you the animal. Grrr."

Harry slapped Draco's hands away and tore at his trousers and belt, yanking them down and the underwear with it. He knelt to pull them over Draco's feet, but the sight of that pink, stiff cock right before his eyes stopped him. He leaned forward and gave the shaft a good hard lick up to the head, where his tongue swirled over the glans. Draco inhaled a shuddering breath. "Merlin, Harry!"

But Harry wasn't done. He licked his lips to moisten them and took the head into his mouth, sucking gently. Draco's body arched and Harry held him still by reaching up and clasping the cheeks of his smooth, pale buttocks. His tongue was busy moving over the shaft and the head, swirling up and lapping downward. He planted open-mouthed kisses at the base of his prick, nosing his way into the musky pubic hair. Draco's hands found Harry's messy hair and his fingers grabbed bunches of it.

Harry pulled back. "As much as I want to make you come this way," said Harry breathlessly, "I want you to be inside me. I really do." He rose and took Draco by the hand, leading him to the bed. "I'm going to lie face down on that bed, Malfoy," he whispered into the shell of his ear, making the blond man tremble. "And I'm going to raise my arse in the air just for you. So you can spear me proper. And you're going to ride me hard and deep, aren't you?"

"Oh yes!"

"Good. Because that's the way I want it, my love. Fuck me hard, Draco." Harry had never spoken to him like this before but he could tell that it was having an affect on the Slytherin. His lips had parted with his shortened breaths and his grey eyes were glazed and wide with lust.

Harry released Draco's hand and got onto the bed on all fours. He laid his head down but he kept his arse raised and even swayed it from side to side, enticing his lover. He spread his knees apart and couldn't believe he was exposing himself like this. But Draco certainly wasn't complaining.

He heard Draco fumbling at the bedside table for the lube and heard a cork pop. All at once, and gentle finger full of an oily substance started at the base of his spine and dragged slowly down his crack, stopping at the furled flesh of his exposed anus. That same finger pushed inside and pulled a moan from Harry's lips. He buried his face in the pillow. "Fuck me, Draco!" he said, voice muffled, but Draco heard him. He made a squeaking noise and then Harry heard him sloppily lubing his cock. The dome of his prick was suddenly poised at his arse and Draco pushed, opening the moist heat of his entrance and sliding in. Harry moaned again and exhaled a, "Draco!"

His blond lover took a pause, letting Harry get used to the presence of his thick cock imbedded deeply. And then he pulled back almost to the head. Harry waited for it. He knew it was coming and almost screamed in delight when Draco slammed in deeper than before.

"Oh yes!" cried Harry. "Harder!"

Draco whimpered again and drew out of Harry, thrusting in even harder. Harry rocked forward. "Mmmm."

Draco laid into him with hard thrusts and suddenly reached around to grasp Harry's cock in oil-slickened fingers. He pumped Harry with his fingers tight around his prick and rammed into him in the same fierce rhythm. Harry pushed back, skewering his arse on Draco and then thrust his hips to take the incredible hand job from the other side. He didn't know which was better...until Draco's cock brushed his prostate. Then everything shimmered. The aching need in his balls shot upward into his cock and he spurt his load into Draco's moving hand. He thrust, thrust his hips into the last vestiges of his orgasm while squeezing down on his anal muscles.

Draco cried out and pumped in deeply. A few little thrusts and he was coming too. Draco paused above him, holding that wet cock with one hand and Harry's hip with the other. He swayed a little before he collapsed onto Harry's sweaty back. Harry fell to the bed in a heap with Draco on top and he was never so content in his life.

He reached back to touch Draco's arse. "That was incredible," he sighed.

He felt Draco nod against the back of his head. "Too right," he gasped and slowly rolled off to one side, his prick popping from Harry's arse.

Harry lay with his face in the pillow. He felt the trickle of Draco's juices leaking from his crack and he wriggled at the wonderful, warm feeling. "Oh God. You are so good at this."

Draco kissed his flank, the only thing he could reach at the moment. "And you, with that naughty bit of repartee. Just where did you learn such naughty language, Mr. Potter?"

"From you. Who else?"

Draco chuckled and trailed his hands over Harry, bringing him in tight to spoon, running his fingertips lightly over Harry's chest and nipples. He kissed the nape of Harry's neck and down to his shoulders. "You are so incredibly irresistible."

"Mmmm. I love you."

"And I love you, my Harry."

Harry snuggled against Draco and sighed. "This is so much better than dueling, don't you think?"

Draco snorted a laugh. "That used to be our only form of communication."

"Did you really hate me that much?"

"Yes, actually. You had brushed me off when I tried to make friends with you and you didn't even know me."

Harry sat up and turned to him. "But...that's precisely why I did! You insulted Hagrid, the first person ever to be a friend to me and Ron. And you didn't know them at all."

"But I was right about them, wasn't I?"

Harry lay back with a hard exhale. "What am I going to do with you?"

"I suppose we could duel again."

Harry got a wicked grin on his face and rolled over to face him. "With these wands, Malfoy?"

"You are naughty, aren't you, Potter?"

Harry chuckled. "'Course, you wouldn't chicken out like you did for second year. Or was it first."

"What? I never chickened out."

"Yes you did. Remember, you said to meet you in the trophy room and you never showed."

"That's because it was my plan to get you caught by Filch. It was a clever ruse, you idiot."

"Oh, sure it was."

Draco rolled over this time. "I was not a coward! I was being clever."

"Whatever, Malfoy."

"No you don't. You're not getting away with that. You are going to admit that I was laying a careful plot. Admit it."

"Nope."

Draco's face was a study in shock. "What...you...I...."

"Oh lord, he's speechless. What have I done?"

Draco's shocked expression gave way to a sly one and he immediately set to tickling Harry. Harry curled in like a hedgehog and squirmed away from his playful lover. "No! Stop!"

But Draco wouldn't until he could tell Harry couldn't breathe. "That will teach you a proper lesson, Potter."

Harry breathed and laughed in between. "All right, I give! It was very clever of you. Horrible place to do detention, too, that trophy room. Too many trophies to polish."

"Never had to myself," said Draco with a self-satisfied grin.

"Of course not. You were always getting away with things, especially with Snape."

"Look who's calling the cauldron black. You've always gotten away with things, being Dumbledore's pet and all."

But the sound of the headmaster's name gave Harry pause and he lay back with his hands behind his head. "I wonder how he and your father are doing?"

Draco scooted closer and lay his head on Harry's chest. "I'm sure they're fine."

He clutched Draco and caressed the smooth skin of his back. What could he say? They both knew they were on a suicide mission all so Harry could succeed. And what were they doing in return while the headmaster and his lover's father were sacrificing themselves? Having a shag. Harry felt like getting up but Draco was clinging to him. He supposed they both needed the outlet. At least to forget for a bit.

In spite of his worry, Harry began to drift off. He thought of the trophy room of all places, and recalled how Ron had complained about having to do detention there. His friend had had to polish without magic all the shiny trophies. Quidditch trophies, music trophies, special citation trophies. Harry had one there now, too. He had won a special citation from the school when he killed the basilisk and closed the Chamber of Secrets. How ironic since Voldemort...that is, Tom Riddle had also received a similar citation fifty years earlier for telling everyone it was Hagrid who opened the chamber, when it in fact had been him! What a prat, thought Harry, reliving the horrible visit to the chamber. Ginny's body, the basilisk chasing after him, Tom Riddle taking his wand-

Harry sat up suddenly, startling Draco from slumber. "Oh my God! We've been so stupid! It's been right here all along! Draco, get up!"

Harry was already scrambling out of bed and pulling on his clothes backwards and wrong side out.

"Potter! What's the matter with-"

"We had it here right in front of our eyes all this time," he said pulling his tie on over his collar. "Voldemort likes trophies, right? But not just of the Founders. He had his own trophy as well. He got a special citation from the school. Oh why didn't I see that before!"

"What are you on about?"

Harry explained as he dressed and soon Draco was pulling on his clothes as quickly as possible. Once they were dressed, they ran from the room and careered down the corridors. Finally, they made it to the trophy room and pushed opened the doors.

Gleaming from every corner and shelf were an endless array of all kinds of trophies; loving cups, tall statuettes, plaques, Quidditch players. But where was Tom Riddle's.

They began to search the shelves. Draco turned to Harry. "What are we doing? Are we wizards or what?" He lifted his wand. "Accio Tom Riddle's trophy!"

Something trembled from a high shelf, popped out of its place, and soared into the air directly toward Draco. He caught it and brought it down to look at. It was a smallish loving cup, polished clean with the name "Tom Riddle" etched on the surface.

"That has to be it!" said Harry breathlessly. But all at once, the most searing pain cut deeply into his scar. Harry fell to the ground, clutching his forehead and screaming. It was worse than the Cruciatus, he was sure of it. He rolled, trying to relieve himself of the terrible agony. Make him stop! he kept screaming in his head. Or was he screaming it aloud? He couldn't tell.

Draco was clutching him. At least he thought so. And suddenly, the pain stopped. Draco had kissed him again on the forehead and the pain had stopped as suddenly as it had begun. He looked up into Draco's eyes. "It's done," Harry said, still seeing the vision in his mind that Voldemort could not shield in his anger. "Nagini is dead." He held up the trophy he still had clutched in his hand. "This is the last Horcrux."

"Yes, and I'll take that, Harry."

That voice. And it wasn't coming from his head. Both he and Draco slowly turned, and they both stopped breathing.

Standing behind them, furious and terrible, was Voldemort himself.


On to Part Six
"Voldemort"

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"Turncoat"

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