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Memory Loss, part two: The L Word

"I'm sorry, Harry," Draco said when he broke the kiss and noticed that Harry was staring at him in puzzlement. He knew that he should not have done that, he should not have acted on his feelings so soon—all those confusing feelings that had sprung from inside of him during the past few days. But it had felt so right, the moment had been so perfect, just the two of them there …

It had been impossible to hold back and prevent it from happening. He had lost himself in Harry's beautiful emerald-green eyes, and for a few seconds, he had imagined seeing some kind of desire in them. That illusion alone had been enough to make Draco lean in for the kiss. But now, when it was too late to take it back, when it had already been done, he regretted it. He was jeopardising their entire friendship, and since Harry was his only real friend he could not afford to lose him. Not now that he had already cast his Malfoy-act aside to become a 'nice boy.'

"I shouldn't have done that, I …"

But Draco was given no time to finish his sentence, because Harry pressed his lips to the blonde's and effectively silenced him. Draco could do nothing but give in. Plunging deep down into an emotional pit, he threw his arms around Harry's neck and desperately clung to the Gryffindor as if he feared that he would evaporate into thin air if he did not hold him fast.

Harry opened his mouth and taunted Draco's tongue into a hot, wet dance that was the most wonderful thing that Draco had ever experienced. He wanted it to last forever, but it ended ten or fifteen seconds later when he accidentally bit Harry's tongue.

Harry hastily withdrew. "Ow!" he said, and gently touched the sore spot on the tip of his tongue. His index finger came away tainted with bright artery blood.

"Sorry," Draco panted, slightly out of breath after their kissing.

"It's all right, it doesn't even hurt that much. It was just a reflex. Sorry."

"Why are you apologising?"

"For breaking the spell," Harry said enigmatically, his emerald eyes glinting mesmerizingly in the gloom of the secret room.

They just sat there watching each other for a few minutes; neither of them knew what to say about what had just happened. Suddenly, everything had changed between them. They had gone from being archenemies to being best friends in a matter of a fortnight, and now it seemed that they had reached yet another level in their relationship. It was wonderful—all those emotions that gave him butterflies and made his heart speed like a racing horse—but kind of scary at the same time. However they decided to go on from there, one thing was sure; they could never go back to what they had been.

"I don't know if we—" Draco began.

"I think we should—" Harry said at the exact same time.

Blushing, they lowered their gazes and stared down into their laps.

"You go first," Harry offered.

Draco drew a deep breath for comfort. "I was just wondering … where do we go on from here? I don't know if we can stay friends and pretend like this never happened. Hell, I don't want to pretend like it never happened—I loved every second of it. But—"

"I loved every second of it, too," Harry admitted, somewhat embarrassed. "That's what surprises me … I mean, you're a guy, and I … I just never thought of myself as … well, gay …"

"Do you think I ever thought of myself as gay?" Draco asked, and laughed heartily. "I'm a Malfoy, for crying out loud! Pride and power are the two building stones in a true Malfoy, and I go and fall in love with Harry Potter …"

His laughter turned from hearty to bitter. The irony of the situation was darkly amusing.

Suddenly, Harry grasped Draco's right hand and made him jump. He looked up into the Gryffindor's eyes. "What did you just say?"

Draco frowned. Bewildered, he asked, "What?"

"You said that … that you have fallen in love with me. Did you mean that?"

The silence between them was oppressing.

"I think I am, yes," Draco finally confessed. "I think I'm falling in love with you, Harry. Is that a bad thing?"

"I don't know. Anyone else would probably say that we're crazy … that we're playing with fire. Some may even say that we're disgusting. But myself … I can only tell you what I feel, and right now my heart tells me that it's a good thing. A bloody good thing. Because I think I'm falling for you, too."

Motivated by happiness, Draco gave Harry a quick kiss. But then the smile faded from his face and the reality of their situation was once more crying for his attention. "Must we hide this from everyone now? It might be dangerous for you to announce yourself as Draco Malfoy's boyfriend. I mean, if my father finds out …"

"We'll deal with him when that day comes," Harry hushed, tenderly putting a finger over Draco's lips. "Right now I don't care what anyone else thinks. We're already hated for being friends—it can't get any worse, can it? I think it would be idiotic to pretend as if nothing's happened between us. I mean, how long can we hide it? Eventually we'll break down, and that might mean the end for both of us."

"Yeah, you're right. Blimey, Harry, you scare me sometimes. You're too bloody intelligent for me."

"No, I just talk a load of crap."

They laughed.

Draco looked deeply into Harry's tired eyes, trying to interpret the pattern on his irises. With an unspoken decision made, they lay down on the cushions, Harry with his arms around Draco's chest. Draco sighed happily and closed his eyes. "Don't ever leave me," he pleaded pitiably, snuggling closer into the embrace. He was so warm, so comforting … "Promise me you'll stay forever."

Harry gently kissed his head. "I would never leave you, Draco. I will stay for as long as you want me by your side. And if you ever get into some kind of trouble, I will always be there to help you out of it. If you ever change your mind, if you ever say that you don't want me near you anymore … then I will fight for you. I won't ever let you go, baby. Not ever."

Hermione caught up with Ron on her way to Transfiguration, but she had to run to keep up with his furious pace. His face was red and bloated with anger. He almost looked dangerous. Hermione did not know if she should talk to him at all or if she should just leave him alone. "Ron, where's Harry?" she asked against better judgement, and hoped he would answer.

Ron grunted, but otherwise there was no indication of a reply.

Hermione almost stumbled over her own feet when she tried to avoid crashing into passing students. "Ron, why are you so angry? Has something happened? Where's Harry? You haven't got in a fight again, have you?"

Suddenly Ron stopped dead and turned around to face her. His nostrils flaring, he said, "You wanna know where Harry is? He's with Draco Malfoy, that's where he is! Hasn't he told you? He's still teaching the brat Defence Against the Dark Arts, and he didn't come back last night. He's either converted to the dark side or been killed by Malfoy, and might I say I'm hoping for the latter alternative."

With those words, he swirled around and started stalking down the corridor again.

Hermione looked after him with concern. This was getting serious. If Harry did not explain himself soon, his friendship with Ron would probably go down the drain.

The following morning, they allowed themselves to sleep in. Since they had been up practically all night, they needed the sleep to function properly, and neither of them felt guilty about missing the morning lessons. They decided to go to lunch apart, though. They figured that the Great Hall would not be the best place to announce their relationship, and Harry needed to talk to his friends about it before the rumours started to circulate.

He had been very right when he thought that, because Ron seemed to be quite furious with him. Harry could not blame him. He had been spending most of his time with Draco the past two weeks, and now he felt bad for abandoning his best friends.

"Could I speak with you after lunch?" he asked them.

Hermione nodded immediately, still very uncomfortable around him, but Ron only grunted something inaudible. Harry was glad when the redhead at least followed him and Hermione back to the common room. They sat down in the farthest corner to have some privacy. Not many students had returned from lunch yet, and many spent the day outside since the weather was so lovely. Harry did not have to worry about eavesdroppers.

Drawing a deep breath for comfort, he finally said, "There's something that I need to tell you. You've probably noticed how much time I've been spending with Draco lately, I don't think anyone's escaped that knowledge … Anyway, Ron: I know that you think it's because I've turned into a Slytherin—that I always was a Slytherin—but you're wrong. I would never convert to the dark side, you know that. I have fought Voldemort for so long—oh, come on, don't flinch!—I have fought him for so long that it would be meaningless to stop and pretend like he doesn't exist. I will keep fighting him until one of us is dead, whether I like it or not. The reason why I've been seeing Draco so much is … well, I've fallen in love with him."

That piece of information actually made Ron lift his gaze and look directly at Harry. The bafflement was plain to read on his face. Whatever he had imagined Harry saying, this was not it.

Hermione knitted her eyebrows. "You have … fallen in love with him?" she echoed. "But he's …"

"A bloke, yeah I know," Harry said, smiling. "Believe me, I was as surprised as you when I realised that's what's actually happened. I never thought that I would … that I was … gay. But I guess I am, because I really love him, no matter how stupid it is. And it doesn't matter that he's a Malfoy, because he's changed. He doesn't want anything to do with his father anymore, let alone the world that he has been raised in. He wants to leave it all behind now to be with me. Isn't that ironic?"

"Yes, it is," Hermione said numbly. She was biting her lower lip. The anxiety in her eyes flattered him.

He turned to Ron. "Ron, I know what you think of Draco, of what he's done to us during the past five years … but please, try to forget about that. All I ask is for you to give him an honest chance."

"An honest chance, eh? How come he never gave me one?"

"He will now," Harry promised. "Please Ron, this is important to me. I don't want to lose you as a friend—you're my best friend—but I'm not willing to lose Draco either, not even over this."

They continued to talk about the changes that their group would have to go through for another thirty minutes, and when they left for class, they left as friends.

Draco appeared out of nowhere when they finished History of Magic and placed a fleeting kiss on Harry's lips. Harry's classmates shrieked with astonishment and fright. They had hardly even got used to the two of them being friends yet—and now this! Ron made a wry face and turned away from the sight, but Hermione actually smiled faintly. "I never thought I would say this," she said, "but you actually look kind of cute together."

"Hello Hermione," Draco said somewhat shyly, smiling politely. "Showed them who's smartest today, eh?"

Hermione blushed. "I wouldn't say that I'm …"

"Oh, don't be modest! You know you're intelligent, so don't hide it. There's nothing wrong with knowing when the goblin wars started and why. If there even is a reason why …"

Hermione laughed. Amazingly, the two of them started to talk about history and about transfiguration as if they had been close friends for several years. Harry could not help but smile at the scene. Even Ron seemed to melt somewhat after a while, and when they all went outside into the lovely March afternoon, he was cautiously discussing Quidditch with Draco. Apparently they supported the same team.

They went down to the lake and sat in the grass. Draco sat down very close to Harry and took his hand in his. A warm, happy feeling started to spread through him.

"How long have you … I mean, when did you realise that you were in love?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Last night," Draco said.

Ron hastily stood up. "Ugghhh, you haven't—!" he exclaimed with a disgusted look.

"No, we haven't," Harry said, immediately grasping what he was implying. Then he turned to Draco and grinned mischievously. "Yet."

Draco blushed.

The blonde did not look him in the eyes when he asked, "Harry? Can I … Can I lie down and put my head in your lap?"

Harry's heart skipped a beat or two. "Of course you can, baby. Anytime. You don't have to ask."

A smile of gratitude came to Draco's lips. He lay down with his head in Harry's lap and closed his eyes when Harry began to stroke his hair.

Ron left. It was probably a little too much for him to digest just then. Hermione watched them in silence for a long while before saying anything. "You really do love each other, don't you?" she stated.

Harry looked down at Draco. He had fallen asleep. Harry smiled. "Yes, we do. It's insane, but we do."

Hermione stood up. She was smiling, too. "Then it's the only confirmation that I need. You have my blessing."

When they reached the end of the school year, people had begun to accept the new Draco and their relationship. No-one made wry faces when they kissed in the corridors anymore—except for the Slytherins, of course. Draco had even gained a few new friends and said that he was happier than he had ever been in his entire life. Making Draco happy was Harry's new main goal in life, and he intended to keep that up for as long as they lived.

After the unfortunate events in the Department of Mysteries, Draco was the one who comforted him and held him when he cried. He never had any problem with crying in Draco's presence; it was never awkward between them. Harry had an immense pain in his heart after Sirius's death, and Draco did everything in his power to take that pain away.

When it was time for them to go home over the summer, Draco promised that he would come to Little Winging to visit Harry for a few weeks—his father would hardly notice that he was gone, especially not since he was under scrutiny by the Ministry of Magic as an accused Death Eater—and that promise soothed Harry more than anything else. By the end of the summer, he would return to the Burrow as always, but the weeks before that would be intolerable.

Uncle Vernon picked him up at King's Cross Station as usual, but this time he was greeted by a lot of angry people who told him to treat Harry nicely; amongst them were Professor Lupin and Mad-Eye Moody. Especially Mad-Eye left an impression with Uncle Vernon, because he never dared to speak another harsh word to Harry again. That made his summer a little more tolerable, but not much so. He still missed Sirius awfully, and he wished that Draco could have been there to hold him when he had trouble sleeping.

Four weeks into the summer, Harry received a letter from Draco saying that he could sneak away now. Harry immediately wrote back explaining how Draco would get to Little Winging. His spirits lifted a little the day he got the reply, saying: I'm coming right away, baby. Please, do wait up for me!

With the first smile since Sirius's death, Harry went downstairs to warn his aunt and uncle about the visitor. "My boyfriend's coming in to visit for a few weeks," he told them. "That's not going to be a problem, is it?"

The look that Uncle Vernon gave him was worth gold. Astonishment. Disbelief. Fear. "Your what, you say?"

"My boyfriend, Draco Malfoy. We've been seeing each other since the beginning of March. He goes to my school, and he's the son of one of the wealthiest wizards walking this earth." That ought to do as an introduction, Harry thought gleefully. Now they won't dare disturb us for the entire stay.

And he was correct. When Draco arrived and politely greeted Harry's relatives, they stood frozen in the living room doorway, their eyes a blank terror. Harry enjoyed their fear very much, and it was probably what saved him from going insane over everything that he had experienced in his life. When his birthday came up, Draco celebrated him like no-one had celebrated him before—he even baked a cake!

"Stay in here," he said to Harry, urging him to sit down on his bed, "and don't come downstairs until I call you. I know you'll love it."

It was like a dream. He actually got to spend his sixteenth birthday with someone he loved, and who loved him back. Birthday cards came in from loads of friends, the cards from Hermione, Ron, Hagrid, and Dumbledore being the ones he appreciated and valued most.

Later that night, when they were going to bed, Harry felt better than he had in two whole years. He snuggled up to Draco and breathed in the lovely scent of the blonde's hair. "I'm so grateful that I have you," he mumbled affectionately. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Draco."

Draco kissed his cheek. "I don't know what I'd do without you, either. I can't imagine what my life would've been like if you hadn't changed me."

They kissed, their tongues melting together into a hot mass. Draco ran his fingertips over Harry's bare chest, slowly and sensually massaging him. Harry pressed himself ever closer, placing kisses all over Draco's face and working his way down to the blonde's nape. Draco stiffened. Harry snapped playfully at the blonde's nape a few times, then he bit down and elicited a half-suppressed cry of pleasure from Draco. He knew where this was going, he knew that this was it; they were going to make love. But it did not scare him anymore; he felt completely safe with Draco, and he knew that the blonde would never hurt him intentionally. It was so much easier to give in to his urges with that knowledge, and he could not imagine his first time being any more perfect than this.

Draco began to tug at Harry's boxers. "Silencia … silencia …" he was muttering in a low, hoarse voice.

"You don't have your wand," Harry pointed out, making intricate patterns on Draco's chest and stomach with his tongue. He could feel Draco's erection pressing against him, and it encouraged him to be bolder, more daring. He began to pull the blonde's boxers off.

Draco gasped. "I have a wand …," he managed to whisper. A cry of anticipation escaped him when Harry placed himself on top of him. "Harry … ah … they will hear us … God …"

Harry bit down on the blonde's neck anew. "So let them listen," he said as he pushed inside of Draco, "they might need a little lesson about love."

He moved slowly, careful not to hurt Draco, and soon he felt as if they had melted together through a strange chemical reaction; he could not tell his body from Draco's anymore; they were one being, one entity. They moved together in synchrony, they worked so perfect together, as if they had been made out of the same mould; as if they were meant for each other. No other feeling had been as strong as this; it filled him up until he exploded. Simultaneously, Draco cried out louder than before, gripping the sides of Harry's face hard as he bucked beneath him. The blonde's face was the most beautiful thing Harry had ever seen, and he could not take his eyes off him as he gasped for breath. They collapsed into a pile of shuddering flesh, holding each other, panting.

Draco gently kissed his forehead. "I love you, Harry. You're wonderful."

"I love you, too."

Two weeks later, they left for the Burrow together. The rest of the summer was spent with many smiles and memorable moments. Hermione was there, as well, and she, Ron, Draco, Harry, and Ginny always found amusing activities to pass their time with.

When the time came for them to return to school, many changes were made. The greatest change of them all became apparent when a week into their sixth year at Hogwarts, Harry and Draco entered the Gryffindor common room together through the portrait hole. Many Gryffindors were surprised to see Draco there, because no-one other than Gryffindors were allowed, and especially the first-years seemed very shocked. But maybe that was because two boys were actually holding hands.

When Ron spotted them, he immediately rose from his chair. "What's he doing here?" he asked. He still had some difficulties to fully accept Draco as Harry's boyfriend.

Harry and Draco merely grinned at him.

Ron studied them closely for a while, then he noticed what was different. "What's with the colours of your robes, mate?" he inquired Draco.

Harry decided that he should be the one to tell Ron. "Dumbledore agreed to let Draco change houses," he informed him happily. "As of today, Draco is a Gryffindor."

He had severed all ties with his family, and from then on he would be living with Harry. The next summer holidays would be spent first in Surrey, and then at the Burrow. Christmas would be spent at the Burrow. And since all the dormitories were taken in Gryffindor Tower, Draco was to share Harry's bed. It was a highly unconventional arrangement, but there really were no other options. They pulled the curtains around the bed each night and cast the Advanced Silencing Spell and a few other charms around it to prevent anyone from disturbing them.

All these changes had been arranged for Draco's own safety, because the student body of Slytherin House had evidently had it with him and beat him to a pulp the first night of school. Luckily, Snape had found him before he bled to death. So after a week in the hospital wing, Dumbledore had officially agreed to let Draco change houses. And since there were not any complaints from other Gryffindors about this, things were to be kept as they were. Their sixth year—when spent entirely together—was their best ever.

Everything went on pretty well until one day when a very lively and constantly euphoric character appeared at Hogwarts. They first met her when they were walking down the corridor towards their next lesson. All of a sudden, she appeared out of nowhere in a huge cloud of greyish smoke and grabbed Draco's shoulders from behind. "Peek-a-boooo!" she yelled, and laughed girlishly.

Draco jumped high up into the air out of shock and fright and swirled around to face whoever had done it. When he saw who it was, he was completely taken aback. "You!" he said, staring goggle-eyed at the young woman in front of them.

"Hiya, Drakie-poops!" she said loudly, and almost jumped up and down with childish joy. "How is my little teddy bear?"

Harry stared from the woman to Draco and back. "Who the Hell is she?" he asked, and he was not surprised to find that he was jealous. The way this woman was acting, she could have been Draco's wife or something.

The expression on Draco's face had swiftly turned from astonished and shocked to sullen and annoyed. "That's my sister," he said darkly, obviously not too happy to see her.

Harry's eyes widened. "Your sister?" he expelled. "But I thought you were an only child!"

Draco grunted. "Yeah, so did I."

But now that he mentioned it, Harry noticed that this woman had the same silver blond hair and grey eyes as Draco, the same aristocratic facial features, and it was evident that she could be nothing other than a sibling. She pouted, pretending to be hurt. "What's this, Drakie-bums? You haven't told him about your big sister? Now I'm reeeaaally disappointed in you."

Draco sighed and turned to Harry. "Harry, this is my older sister, Piper," he introduced her. "My father gave up on her a long time ago. She never wanted to embrace his values, and for some reason he's always been afraid of fighting her in a wizard duel. She ought to be twenty-one now." He made a faint gesture towards Harry. "And this is my boyfriend, Harry Potter."

Piper was drop-jawed. "Harry Potter? Your boyfriend? Man, don't tell me you nailed him before me! Wow, Drakie-poops! He's famous! Hell, he might even be one of the most skilled wizards in the world!"

Harry blushed involuntarily. "No, I'm not, I've just been lucky …"

"Lucky!" Piper exclaimed, and attracted the attention of several Hufflepuff third-years that were just passing them in the corridor. "I would say that my dear brother's the one who's been lucky! Man, scoring the very real Harry Potter …! I'm impressed, bro!" She gave him a too hard push and almost knocked him over.

Draco, still in a bad mood, muttered, "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Oh, I forgot to tell you!" Piper made a little queer dance. "I've been hired by Lord Dumblydonkey as your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher! I heard you had an awful substitute, so I decided to apply for the job. Lucky for me, he hired me straight away!" Her joy at this was apparent in her whole appearance. She seemed to be the kind of person who became overjoyed over nothing.

Harry could not help but think that she was a bit strange. "Er … 'Lord Dumblydonkey?'" he asked.

"My personal little nickname for Dumbledore. Was my favourite role model when I went to Hogwarts—amazing what that man can do, I tell you. So, tell me … that Snape-bloke still around?"

"Yeah," Harry said. He was a bit intimidated by Draco's sister. She was so utterly different from the witches that he was accustomed to.

"Really? Ooooh, then I absolutely have to tease him a bit! He still got his office in the dungeons?"

"Yeah."

"Wait here, I'll be right back!" She Disapparated with a loud Pop!

Harry was stunned. "But I thought you couldn't Apparate or Disapparate within the Hogwarts grounds … Isn't that what Hermione says ten times a day?"

"Yeah, she's right, you can't," Draco said, "but my sister's always been able to find ways to bend the rules. Believe me, during her time at Hogwarts she was a thousand times worse than Fred and George Weasley. All the teachers just let her be, because they couldn't stop her no matter how much they tried. They knew she was harmless, and everyone liked her. Even Snape, though he had to deal with her the most, being Head of House and everything."

"Even Snape?" Harry echoed. "But the way she's acting, I thought she was in Hufflepuff or something!"

"No, I wasn't," Piper said, suddenly standing behind them. They both jumped. Somehow, she had managed to creep up on them without a single sound. Harry was beginning to understand what Draco had meant about her being a thousand times worse than Fred and George. They had never been able to pull a stunt like that. "I was in Slytherin, alright, just like my 'ickle brother here, and I kicked the arses of the best, let me tell you!"

Harry expressed his astonishment at this.

"Piper won every wizard duel she participated in," Draco informed him, suddenly sounding a bit proud of his sister. "She was Head Girl, and everyone had utter respect for her."

"Really?" Harry was impressed.

"Yep, and I must say it was refreshing to meet Snape again," Piper said, brushing some lint off her expensive yellowish-green robes. "He's always appreciated my jokes. And even though he's been around a while, he's still sexy." There came that girlish laughter again.

Harry was embarrassed to find that he was blushing. It was just that the thought of Snape being sexy made him barf inside … How could anyone see him as anything else than annoying and unpleasant?

Piper clapped her hands together. "Sorry, lads, got to go prepare for my next class. I'll be seeing you this afternoon, and don't forget to bring your wands. There will be a lot of waving and chanting from now on!" And she Disapparated again.

For a moment, they stood still in indecision.

"This year's Defence Against the Dark Arts is actually going to be interesting," Draco said. "My sister is perfect for the job, there's no-one better than her. She's the best. And if anyone can come up with crazy ideas for classes, it's her. Well, shall we go to Transfiguration, handsome?"

Their time at Hogwarts was coming to an end, and the unknown future was knocking on the doors of their minds. Piper Malfoy had been the only Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher fearless, good, and stupid enough to stay on for more than one year, and her lessons were both educational and fun. Harry felt reluctant to leave this place, knowing that he would probably never return. It had been his home for seven years; it was not so easy to just let it go. At least he had the comfort and the pleasure of planning a future together with Draco to look forward to.

They were both going into Auror training the upcoming autumn, but until then they had more than two months just to themselves. They had already begun to look for apartments in London. Harry wanted to be close to Diagon Alley in case there was ever anything they needed. Besides, London was big, and it was the location of the Ministry of Magic; it was the best place to hide from the Death Eaters.

But on graduation day, it was time to say goodbye.

"There's something I need to do before we can have our life together," Draco said reluctantly; their heads were so close together it looked as if they were both cyclops.

Harry had a cold lump in the pit of his stomach. "You're gonna kill him, aren't you?"

Neither of them had to elaborate further on who 'he' was.

Draco hesitated. Then, "You know I have to. I'm not going over there to kill him … but he won't just listen to what I have to say and be happy with that; he'll want my blood. It will be in self-defence. I know that I can win over him at any time, because you're the one who taught me."

They did not want to let go of each other.

Hermione and Ron stood three feet away, waiting for Harry. Hermione had already found a place in London where they would all stay until Harry and Draco had got their own place. Piper had worked up a small fortune over the years, and she had agreed to help them with the down payment for their future apartment to give them a clean start. The sister had actually turned out to be a really nice person—her excessive energy notwithstanding.

Hermione had a stern expression on her face. Ron still had not told her how he felt about her, even though it became more and more obvious for every day that passed.

Ultimately, Draco let go of Harry and took a step back. "I'll only be a couple of days," he promised. "I probably have to dodge a few Death Eaters before I can return to you, but I give you my word I'll come back in one piece. Slashed and bruised, maybe, but in one piece."

"You better," Harry warned him.

Draco kissed him briefly on the cheek. "Meet me outside St. Mungo's street entrance at 7 PM in two days." One moment later, he had Disapparated.

Tears came to Harry's eyes. He had a really bad feeling about Draco going back to Malfoy Manor alone. It would have been better if they had gone together. At least then he would have been able to take care of him, to protect him. He could not shake the feeling that he would never see Draco again.

Hermione came to his side and put an arm around his shoulders. "Come on, Harry, let's go home. We can talk about this there."

Harry nodded and let himself be escorted to her apartment in London.

Draco prepared himself for the worst when he went back to the Manor, because he knew what a vicious person his father was. Lucius Malfoy had counted on his son standing by his side in the upcoming war between dark and light wizards—since his daughter had already betrayed him—so when he heard of Draco's relationship with Harry Potter, he must have been beyond wrath.

Now he was ready to fight for his future with Harry, because it was the only thing that kept him alive, the only thing he had to look forward to.

Whatever he had expected to find when he came back, he did not find it there. What met him when he Apparated in his father's old den stunned and scared him. He had expected his father to be unaware of his return, but now it seemed as if he had counted on it.

Draco looked at Malfoy senior, whose pale face was twisted by a silent rage. Beside him stood Draco's mother, Narcissa Malfoy, with a cold-hearted, gleeful grin on her face. Sure, Draco had expected his mother to be there, but he had not expected the others. Before him stood at least twenty other Death Eaters, like an army waiting for the order to strike, and amongst them were his old classmates Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, and Blaise Zabini. He definitely had not anticipated them to be there, but neither had he thought better of them than to wind up as Death Eaters; it was exactly what you could have expected from them. Now it all seemed so clear that his returning there alone had been a huge mistake.

"Ah, Draco," Lucius drawled with a cold sneer, "I see that you have returned to clear up your sordid past. Am I right?"

Draco immediately went back into the old Malfoy-act. "Go to Hell, old fart, I don't need you to tell me what is obvious."

Lucius laughed. A chill passed through Draco's bones. "Think you still have the advantage, do you? Well, son, you couldn't be more wrong. Look around you. We are too many for you to handle on your own; you just have to admit that you've lost."

"Never," Draco said. "I won't have lost until I'm dead."

Immediately after saying that, he regretted it.

He had just signed his own death order.

The sneer on Lucius Malfoy's face widened, and for some reason he reminded Draco of a dragon. "That can easily be arranged, Draco. But I think we have a better solution."

He snapped his fingers, and six big Death Eaters came forward. At Lucius's signal, they all slashed at him, forcing him to the floor. The pain was excruciating. He could not find his breath. The world spun before his eyes and a misty, oily blackness started to appear at the corners of his vision. He was going away—he would pass out from the pain any second, and all he could think about was Harry. How he had left him with the promise of returning in two days—in one piece, he had said—but now he was not even sure that he would be able to return even in pieces. He thought of Harry waiting for him for all eternity, just waiting, never getting to see his lover again …

Ron, and foremost Hermione, helped him through those two unbearable days when he had to wait for Draco's return, otherwise he probably would have gone mad with anxiety. He felt so bloody helpless, just sitting there. He wanted to help his lover, but he had promised to stay away and let him fix it on his own. It was just so hard …

When the day of Draco's return finally came, he was so nervous that he made Hermione promise to go with him. He did not trust himself to go there on his own, because in this condition he would probably splinch himself. And that would not be a pretty sight for the Muggles of London.

Finally, the clock struck seven, and they were standing outside the entrance to St. Mungo's Hospital. Harry impatiently paced up and down the street, occasionally glancing at the display window with the half-dressed dummies as if expecting Draco to emerge from inside the hospital. The minutes ticked away. Seven-fifteen. Seven-thirty. Seven forty-five …

"Something's wrong," Harry said, his eyes watering. "Why isn't he returning?!"

Hermione put a hand on his shoulder to try to calm him, but he brushed it away. "Harry, I'm sure he's fine, he's probably just running a little late …"

"A little late?" Harry echoed, beside himself with worry. "A little late? Hermione, it's been more than an hour! Something's happened to him."

She tried to find something soothing to say, but evidently she had come to the same conclusion as he had, and she did not have the heart to lie just to make him feel better.

"I have to find him," Harry declared, and started to walk down the street.

Hermione hurried after him. "Harry, wait! How are you going to do that? You don't even know where he is!"

"That doesn't matter. I'll start at the Manor and then I'll try and figure out where to go from there." Nothing could stop him from finding his lover—nothing.

Just when he was about to Apparate to the Malfoy Manor, an owl appeared before him and made him start. It dropped a small letter into his hands. Frowning, he slit it open. When he had read it he dropped it on the ground, and his hands were shaking so bad that he could actually feel the tremors reverberating through his bones.

Hermione had caught up with him. "What's wrong, Harry?" she asked with concern. Then she noticed the piece of parchment lying on the sidewalk. She stooped down to pick it up. She too grew pale and shaky after reading it.

Harry closed his eyes in denial. No, it could not be true, it must not be true …

But the note was still there. Taunting him.

Your boyfriend is dead.