40 to epilogue

Chapter 40: War

"Harry Potter. Harry Potter, sir."

Harry slowly opened his eyes to see two large orbs peering at him from a very close proximity. Giving a squeak, because a squeal would be unmanly, he sat up in bed and reached for his wand.

"No hex Dobby, sir!" the house-elf said in the same loud whisper he'd been using, backing away.

Harry put on his glasses and frowned. "Dobby?"

"Dumbly sent me, Harry Potter. Called an assembly he has. I'se to stay with the baby."

An assembly? In the middle of the night? "Draco?"

"I heard," Draco said, sitting up. "Something's gone bad, hasn't it?"

Harry nodded and started dressing. Draco did the same. They left their rooms and joined the line of others who were headed to the Dining Hall.

"Harry, do you know? I mean, have you seen...?" Ron asked cautiously as he came up behind them.

Harry shook his head. There had been no visions nor even a twinge of his scar. "I'm in the dark with everyone else this time."

"Maybe it has nothing to do with You-Know-Who," Ron hoped aloud.

"Want to bet on that?" Draco asked dryly.

"And where would either of us get a sickle to bet?" Ron replied with a crooked grin, and Harry wanted to hug him. Ron joking with Draco about money. And the sky wasn't falling or anything...well, he didn't think it was.

"I don't know about you, but I happen to be married to a rich hero," Draco said impishly.

"Even with your new heritage, you're still a traditional pureblood, aren't you?"

"Well, you know what they say," Draco began, then he and Ron quoted together, "Just as easy to marry a rich wizard as it is a poor one." They laughed and patted each other on the back.

"The world is ending," Harry whispered to Hermione.

"No," she disagreed, eyeing her boyfriend. "I just think neither of them are fully awake. They probably won't even remember this conversation."

Draco yawned at that moment and Harry figured that Hermione had the right of it. They took their seats and looked at Dumbledore who stood at the head of the table.

"There's no easy way to say this," he began. "An hour ago, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was attacked, specifically the Aurors' facility. They were changing shifts, so casualties...were high." Dumbledore paused to let the severity of the situation sink in. "Because of the reports of your stellar abilities turned in by the Aurors who have been instructing you, the Department has requested that members of H.O.M.E. be used to supplement the remaining healthy Aurors."

"What about Hogwarts' security, sir?" Hermione asked.

"First, all of you would not be on duty for the Aurors at the same time. At least a third of you would be here. Second, thanks to certain occurrences, Hogwarts' wards are now at ten times their normal strength."

While people gasped, Harry just nodded. The Houses were more united than ever thanks to Ogden Bennington. The fourth year Slytherin had come back to school with an attitude. Harry had been on patrol duty the night after sorting, and he'd watched Bennington cross over to the Ravenclaw table and sit next to a pretty witch. The Ravenclaws had stared but said nothing. The Slytherins hadn't been as diplomatic. A seventh-year, prodded by a struggling-for-power Mitchell Flint, had sauntered over to the table and asked Bennington what the hell he thought he was doing.

"Sitting with my girlfriend."

The seventh-year had grimaced. "It's bad enough that you're lowering yourself to dating a Ravenclaw mudblood, but you will not shame your House by sitting here."

Bennington had just smirked. "One, I'm not the one shaming my House. Two, Draco Malfoy himself told me that a House is just the place where your dorm is; it is not your life. So, I can sit anywhere I please and with whom I please. And three, Mr. Malfoy also left me a list of 'helpful' spells in case anyone had a problem with a Hogwarts student availing himself of what Hogwarts has to offer." He threw a glance over the older student's shoulder. "You might want to pass that last one on to Mr. Flint. Acne can recur at any time."

Harry had made sure to pass on what he'd overheard to Draco. After all, he deserved to know he'd chosen a worthy successor.

"Also, you have a choice whether you wish to work as a temporary Auror. The contracts you signed were for protecting Hogwarts and its environs only," Dumbledore said solemnly. "If you'd like to assist the Aurors, please go to the fitness gymnasium and sign up."

Everyone filed out except the Slytherins and Harry.

"Draco?" Zabini asked.

"He can't," Harry said quickly. "One of us has to stay here with Jamie. And we all know who has to be the one to go fight."

Draco patted his hand. "They're not asking about me, Harry. They're asking me my opinion about what they should do."

"Oh."

"We discuss things, Potter," Pansy said. "It's our way."

Harry nodded. No running out and signing their lives away on a whim for the Slytherins. Made sense. He sat back to listen. It wasn't like he had to race to sign up; everyone knew he was going to.

"You're liable to come face to face with your families," Draco cautioned.

"And we'll probably be separated, working with Aurors who may not trust us because we're Slytherin or we're kin to the very people who killed their comrades," Zabini pointed out.

"But they'll think we're cowards or Death Eaters ourselves if we don't," Nott inserted.

"And we care what they think?" Draco asked sharply. "What concerns me is that if none of us are in, we won't know what's going on. We can't protect ourselves if we're on the outside."

"There's also another reason," Daphne Greengrass said, startling Harry. He didn't think he'd ever heard her speak during one of their "councils." He was doubly startled when she gave him a pointed look.

"I wouldn't ask-" Draco began.

"I'll go," Goyle said and Crabbe nodded his agreement.

"Me, too," Nott said.

The rest of the Slytherins all showed signs of agreeing and started for the door, Harry just behind them.

"Pansy." She stopped at Draco's call. "I want to speak to you for a moment."

Harry looked curiously at Draco, but his husband gave him the nod that everything was okay. So he took off toward the gymnasium, reluctantly ready to start the fight that had dogged him his entire life.

"Harry, we need to talk."

Harry was tired, but he nodded and sat down on the bed. The Aurors had not only signed them up, but ran them through a quick orientation so that it was hours before he returned to his rooms and Draco. "Is this about Pansy?" The witch had never shown up in the gymnasium.

"Yes." Draco moved around on the bed until he was sitting next to Harry. Next to, but not touching; he'd stuck to his word about letting Harry dictate any intimacy in their relationship. Sometimes it was hard not touching or being touched by his husband in the month since that night, but he wanted more than just sex and until he could trust Draco implicitly, it would only be sex. "Harry, neither of us may survive this war."

What? Of course Draco was going to- With a shock he looked at the bracelet ringing his wrist. "You don't mean-"

Draco gave a tiny smile. "No, Harry. I won't die because you do. Our binding is not some kind of curse requiring a life-for-a-life sacrifice. It's based on love, and love cherishes life. If you died, I would mourn but live to raise our child."

Harry relaxed. "Then why are you talking about this? You'll be safe here. You can't possibly be thinking about joining the Aurors."

"I know I won't be fighting on the front lines, but I'm still a target. Maybe even a bigger one now that my father is-gone. His official cause of death was struck by lightning, but I'm sure the Death Eaters suspect something. In their minds, I'm the cause of all the confusion they're going through."

"You'll be safe here," Harry repeated adamantly.

Draco shrugged. "Things happen, Harry, and people die, with or without war. If we don't make it through this alive, I don't want what happened to you to happen to Jamie. I don't want Dumbledore or some other know-it-all wizard or ministry deciding what happens to him-who raises him, where he lives. That should be our choice."

Harry supposed Draco had a point, even though he believed the danger to Draco to be incredibly small. "Do you want to make out a-will?"

"I think it's necessary." Draco turned to stare closely at him. "I need you to listen to me for a few minutes, Harry, really listen."

"Okay," Harry said nervously.

"I want Pansy to take Jamie."

Harry's jaw fell open. No. Hell no, he wanted to yell. "I was thinking more along the line of the Weasleys," he said, forcing himself to speak calmly. Sure, Pansy was not a bad friend, but he wanted Jamie to be around-well, nice people.

Draco sighed. "I knew you would be, but I want Jamie with someone who will put Jamie first."

"And you think that person is Parkinson?" Harry exclaimed incredulously.

"Yes."

"You actually think she'll love Jamie better than Mom Weasley, that she'll be a better mother?" What the hell was going through Draco's mind? Was he trying to start an argument?

"I think Mrs. Weasley is already a mother and she has her own children to worry about. I think all the Weasleys have too many others to worry about. I want Jamie with someone who is only worried about him."

"The Weasleys will do everything in their power to care for Jamie," Harry spat out in frustration.

"Will they flee the war? Will they leave their family members to battle Voldemort while they get Jamie to safety? Could they turn their backs on everyone and everything to make sure Jamie is not in harm's way?"

Harry blinked, not following. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, if something happens to both of us, I've asked Pansy to go to the Elven realm and seek asylum for herself and Jamie. She's agreed. Would any of your Weasleys or Granger?" Draco asked patiently.

Harry looked away because he knew the answer. His friends would probably agree if he pushed the issue, but it'd be against their nature; somewhere inside they'd end up resenting Jamie for forcing them to abandon the cause and their loved ones. Pansy, on the other hand... He'd told Hermione the Slytherins were "Hufflepuffy" in their loyalty to Draco. She'd do exactly what he'd asked her to do and be proud of it. Not to mention, she'd really get a kick out of being part of the Elven court. And the realm would be the only safe place if Voldemort won because if Harry Potter fell, the next target would definitely be Harry Potter's son. "We'll draw up the papers in the morning," he said softly. "I'll also explain why to Ron and Hermione so that they won't fight our decision."

Draco nodded and crawled back to his side of the bed. Harry put on his pajama bottoms and slid beneath the covers, hoping to get a few hours of sleep before reporting to the DMLE's temporary headquarters. Because the training dormitory had also been destroyed in the attack, the H.O.M.E. recruits would continue to live at Hogwarts, apparating to and from headquarters.

"Draco?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"We're truly at war now, aren't we? I mean, I knew it was coming, but..." He sighed. "They say we've signed on to be Aurors, but that's not true. We're soldiers, bloody fighters who are barely trained."

"You're more trained than when you took on the Dark Lord the first time and all the other times that followed. This time your job is even easier." Harry snorted. "No, listen to me. Voldemort is only doing this because he needs to re-gather his forces and reassure them. You don't have to win this time; all you have to do is to make sure his followers keep the doubts they already have."

"And how do I do that?"

Draco gave a small laugh in the dark. "Be Harry Potter. All you have to be is Harry Potter, and the rest will take care of itself."

Harry reached out and touched Draco's arm. "Can I hold you tonight?" Instead of answering, Draco rolled over and into Harry's embrace. "Can I kiss you?"

Draco was a little more unsure of that. "What is this, Harry? I mean, I know you're...edgy because of what's happening, and if this is what you need to wind down, I understand. I just don't want to...to think it's something more...if it's not."

Harry closed his eyes and considered the past, the present, and the future. He didn't like that Draco had used him, but he'd done it, in his opinion, to survive. He didn't like that he was agreeing to let Pansy Parkinson take Jamie, but it was so that Jamie would survive. He didn't like that he had to kill anyone, even if they were as bad as Voldemort, but it was for his own survival and that of Wizarding Britain. There were necessary evils in this world, and the faster he accepted that, maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to do what he had to do. He took a deep breath and let go of his remaining doubts and mistrust. Draco wasn't perfect. He was selfish and self-serving. He was arrogant and bigoted. He lied and he schemed. He made mistakes. But when all was said and done, he loved Harry...and Harry loved him.

"Make love to me, Draco," he said firmly and gave himself over to the magic of those words.

It was Harry's third day of patrol when Draco looked up from the cauldron of pain potion he was brewing for Madam Pomfrey to see Weasley, Granger, and Blaise standing in the potion's class doorway. A vial of powdered monkshood slipped from his hand to smash on the stone floor. "Harry?" he whispered.

"I'm sorry, Draco," Blaise said, while the others looked like they were struggling to speak. "Harry's been captured."

Chapter 41: Betrayal and Sacrifice

Draco stared at the mess at his feet. He pulled his wand and cleaned it up. Then he turned back to the potion he was preparing. "I have to finish this or the whole batch will have to be tossed," he said numbly.

"I can-" Granger began.

"No," he said sharply. After seven-plus years of Potions, the stupid mudblood didn't know how changing the magic in the middle of a potion could alter its potency? Brightest witch of her age, his arse! "Just stay out of my way."

He was adding the last ingredient when the door to the room flung back hard enough to bounce off the wall behind it. "What the fuck's the matter with you!" Pansy yelled, her hair and clothes dripping on the stone floor. "I was crossing the yard under a cloudless sky, then it just started fucking raining and sleet-!" She stopped and surveyed the occupants of the room. "Oh, hell. Potter?"

"Taken," Blaise said. "We don't know if he's-"

"He's alive," Draco said as he tried to pour the potion into vials. It needed to be sealed in doses as quick as possible, but his hands-damn it, his hands were fucking shaking. "We're bound. I'd know if..."

Granger nodded and silently took the vial from his hand.

He let her.

When the vials were filled, he nodded toward the door. "Let's talk somewhere else." His control was getting shaky, something that wasn't good in a room full of potentially unstable ingredients.

They followed him to their rooms. His and Harry's. "Tell me," he demanded when he sat on the sofa, Pansy settling beside him.

"Where's Jamie?" she asked.

Draco glanced up at the clock Dumbledore had given them a few weeks ago. It had one hand which said Jamie and names were crammed around the edges. "With Dobby, I think," he said, squinting at the squished together list of names. He looked at Blaise and forced his fingernails to stop digging into his palm. "What happened?"

"We were in the muggle countryside at a farm. There had been an anomalous trace of magic there yesterday and the Aurors wanted it checked out." Draco nodded. Although they'd signed on as Aurors, none of the militia considered themselves to be Aurors. "We separated into three teams: Weasley, Granger, and I; Potter, Daphne, and Theodore; Greg, Vince, and Snodgrass, the senior Auror assigned to us. My group took the house, Potter's group the barn, and the others took another one of the outbuildings. We were in the kitchen when we heard noise and looked out to see magical tracings spewing from every opening on the barn. By the time we got there, Daphne was dead, Potter was missing, and Theodore was injured."

"Daphne's dead?" Pansy asked hollowly. She leaned over onto Draco's shoulder, but didn't cry.

"Where is Nott?" Draco asked sharply. "How injured is he? Why isn't he dead?"

Granger gasped and shot him a look, which, after a mandatory sneer, he ignored.

"He's in the hospital wing. And he's not that bad off, which is why I told Greg and Vince to stay with him."

"What is this?" Granger began, but Weasley stopped her by grabbing her wrist.

"The Slytherins," he said. "They were supposed to protect Harry, I'm thinking?" He looked at them and Draco nodded. "That's why at least two of them volunteered for every one of Harry's assignments."

"But why?" Granger asked. Then she looked at Draco, trying to glare, but not quite making it. "Did you do this? Did you force them to-"

"Shut the fuck up, Granger," Pansy interrupted. "Draco hasn't forced or asked us to do anything. We-all of us-decided to protect Potter. If you haven't noticed, he seems to be our best bet for getting out of this alive."

"But Daphne died," Granger said awkwardly.

"And will walk honorably among the Halls of the Dead for her actions," Blaise pointed out. "Besides, why are you so upset that we were protecting Potter? Wasn't that your goal as well? Are you telling us you wouldn't have died to protect him?"

"That's not what I'm saying!" Granger took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "A year ago you didn't even like Harry, and now, you're dying for him. I don't understand."

Draco shook his head and stood. "And I doubt you ever will. Pansy, would you stay here and see to Jamie when Dobby returns him? I'm going to have a visit with Nott."

"But-"

"Shh," Draco heard Weasley say. "It's about Wizard's Honor, Hermione."

"So you understand?" she hissed back at him.

"Yeah, yeah I do."

Draco made his way along corridors and moving stairs until he reached the medical wing. It was easy to find Nott; he was not only the only patient, but Greg and Vince were standing solemnly at the foot of his bed with their wands at ready position. The bed was at the back of the ward, next to a large window which revealed the weather had not cleared up much. Shit, those weren't snowflakes, were they? Damned lack of control.

"Theodore, how are you?" he asked solicitously, strongly willing the snow to go away. But he was cold, cold down to his soul, and the flakes continued to fall.

"Better than I was, thanks to Madam Pomfrey." Nott gave a dramatic sigh. "I'm so sorry about Potter. I don't know what happened. One minute we were in an empty barn and the next, there were masked people apparating in and-" He shuddered. "It all happened so fast. Did they tell you about poor Daphne?"

"Yes, they did." Draco moved closer to the bed. Fuck the snow. Fuck everything. "Theodore?"

Nott looked up at him. "Yes, Draco?"

"Legilimens!"

Draco looked up from the floor of a dark and empty barn. Harry stood before him, struggling with two Death Eaters. As Draco opened his mouth to scream out a warning, the scene disappeared and was replaced by a Hogwarts corridor. Mitchell Flint stood in front of him.

"You make sure Potter is the one to check out the barn."

Another flash. "I know what I'm doing, Dad. Malfoy is a lot of talk. Seven damn years and Potter's still walking around. He can't do anything without his father. He's weak and pathetic."

The shattering of glass and the resultant icy breeze flowing through the infirmary brought Draco back to himself. He felt the wind blow through his hair that Harry hadn't let him cut after the pregnancy, and he wondered if that was why Nott was staring at him so oddly. No matter. There was business to take care of. "Crabbe, Goyle, fetch me Mitchell Flint."

He heard Granger spell the window closed with a soft, "Reparo." Then he heard Weasley ask Granger to go get Dumbledore. She argued briefly, but he was firm and she left in a huff. He heard all this because he couldn't see it. All he could see was Nott. Nott who had betrayed Harry. Nott who had betrayed him. Nott who was about to die a nasty, horrible death.

"Easy there, mate," Blaise said. "I take it we have a traitor or two in our midst?"

"He set Harry up. Flint was his go-between."

"Fuck, Nott. Death wish much?" Blaise asked dryly.

"I wanted the war to end," Nott whined. "You idiots were buying into this fucking nutter's idea of getting up the duff and forcing Potter into marriage-"

Granger's repaired window shattered again. Draco grinned as Nott flinched. "Go on, Nott, since you're set on forgetting who this fucking nutter is and what he is. Tell me, are you really sure who the nutter is in this instance? I mean, you know what happened to my father. You know who my new mother is. Yet you still go after my husband. Who's the nutter, Nott? Who?" The last word was emphasized by a bright flash of lightning.

"I-I didn't-You weren't when I committed myself to-"

"I might not have been a fucking elf, but I was still a Malfoy, damn it, and I warned you-do you remember that, Nott? I fucking warned you what would happen if you betrayed me. You committed yourself to me, you ignorant, backstabbing bastard! You swore oaths of loyalty, fealty, and allegiance. You signed in your own fucking blood! I could kill you right now, and no Wizarding court would find me at fault!"

Nott's eyes flew around the room, settling on the one pair of eyes he thought would grant him leniency. "Weasley, you can't-"

"Shut your gob, Nott! You set up my best friend. You endangered my life and my friends' lives. You forswore a blood oath. The only reason I would possibly stop Malfoy from killing you is that he's apt to do it too fast!"

"Blaise?" the condemned tried again.

"I read a story the other day about a man being killed in a hailstorm. Hey, Draco, did you know hailstones come as big as a football?" Blaise said slyly.

The door to the infirmary slammed open. Draco turned to see Greg and Vince enter. He started to complain, then saw they were pulling something behind them. It was Flint, trussed like a pig and being dragged by a leash.

"Finite incantatum," Greg mumbled and Draco realized they'd had the boy under a full body bind. One way to keep him quiet.

"What the fuck's going on!" Flint yelled as soon as he shook off the effects of the spell.

"Wizarding justice," Draco said flatly. "And since I want to be fair, I'm going to give you a chance to give me one good reason not to kill you where you stand."

Flint stared at Nott in a panic. "What-What are you talking about? Has he said something about me? Whatever it is, he's lying! Besides, it was all his idea!"

"Silencio!" Draco took a deep breath and realized he was shivering. He took another deep breath, trying to focus like his Elven instructor had taught him. The chilling breeze calmed slightly. "Reparo," he said, waving at the window. Flint cowered away from him. "Tell the Aurors to come get this. I won't sully my hands on such an insignificant piece of shit."

"The Aurors are on their way, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco didn't miss Nott's sigh of relief as Dumbledore made his way into the room, following by a panting Granger. She must have ran all over the castle looking for him. "Good, sir. I'm sure Azkaban has room for two more."

"Although you couldn't be in the field, I think you would've been an excellent asset to their ranks," Dumbledore said smoothly. "Look at how quickly you determined this conspiracy."

"Actually, I have to give Jamie some of the credit, Headmaster. He hated Nott on sight which stirred my suspicions."

"Ah, the young can often see more clearly than we with our years of loyalties and hatreds. Come now. I think Misters Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle are capable of keeping the prisoners secure while we discuss more important matters in my office."

Draco nodded. But before he followed Dumbledore, he leaned over close to Nott's ear. "Blood oath. I can get to you at any time and in any place. If Harry survives, you will spend the rest of your life locked in Azkaban, and I guarantee by the time I've done torturing you, you'll wish the Dementors were still around. If he dies, you will die in a manner so foul and so protracted, you'll want to kill yourself. But you won't be able to because, see, I. Own. Your. Arse. Quanta yassen 'kshapsa." He pulled himself up straight. "I wouldn't stand too close to him, my friends," he warned as he joined Weasley at the door. He heard Nott's retching as they moved down the hall. The poison spell was mildly administered; it wouldn't kill him, just make him sick for the next hour or so.

Poor, fucking Nott.

"I didn't know you knew Legilimency," Granger said when they caught up with her. She was just behind Dumbledore, who seemed to be deliberately walking ahead.

"Why would you know?" Draco asked snidely. "Contrary to your belief, you don't have to know everything."

"Cool it, Malfoy," Weasley said calmly. "I know you're worried about Harry, but you don't have to take it out on Hermione. Save it for the arseholes who caused this mess. By the way, what did you do to Nott?"

"Poisoned him. It'll work its way out of his system before anyone can figure out why he's puking his guts out on a regular basis."

"Nice. Sounds worse than that slug vomiting charm my brothers taught me. Too bad it's an Elven thing."

"There's a Wizard version as well. I'll teach it to you sometime."

"Thanks." Sometimes Draco actually understood why Harry was friends with Ron. Sometimes.

"Would you care for tea, Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore asked as they settled into his office. "You really look as if you need a bit of warmth."

He took the tea if only to stop the coddling.

"Has the Order been informed, sir?" Weasley asked.

"Yes, that's why Miss Granger had such difficulty finding me. I'm glad that you and Mr. Malfoy had things well in hand here at Hogwarts."

"So, what has your precious Order discovered?" Draco asked. He had joined the Order simply because he didn't want to give Harry a reason to keep secrets from him, but he wasn't impressed with the membership or their methods.

"Harry has been delivered to Voldemort."

Draco couldn't refrain from rolling his eyes. What unexpected news. "What about rescue plans, sir?"

"This is a very delicate situation, and we cannot afford to go stumbling about, Mr. Malfoy. We have employed a number of resources..."

Draco tuned him out. At this rate, he and Harry would be dead of old age by the time the Order got around to a rescue. Dead. He wondered why Harry wasn't already dead. Why hadn't the Dark Lord- He nodded as the answer came to him. Voldemort hadn't killed Harry on sight because he needed to make an example out of him. He needed to make a statement to his followers, so Harry's death needed to be public, and possibly ritualistic. A show. A spectacle.

"Mr. Malfoy!"

He jerked at the sharp call and focused on the others in the room. They, on the other hand, were focused on the window which revealed a...blizzard happening on the front lawn of Hogwarts. Oops. "Sorry, sir."

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "It's to be expected, Mr. Malfoy. Now, Ron, dear boy, what were you asking?"

"Why didn't Harry know what was happening? When the Aurors were attacked? He usually, you know." Weasley traced a scar on his forehead.

What the-Oh. Draco remembered Harry telling him that sometimes he could see what Voldemort was up to because of the scar. He'd told him because he didn't want to frighten Draco in the middle of the night. But, as Draco had informed him, while he was pregnant nothing woke him in the night-except for his bladder.

"Harry hasn't 'you know'ed for quite some time," Dumbledore said. "Mr. Malfoy has become a grounding force for him. Their binding connects them on all fronts. The mental connection overpowers whatever residual links Harry has to Voldemort."

"Is that why Draco knows Harry isn't dead?"

Did he seem so distant that they were comfortable talking about him in the third person?

"Yes, Mr. Weasley."

"Could we use that connection to find Harry?"

"In time, Hermione, but I'm not sure we have that much time," Dumbledore said hesitantly. "Rumor has it that Voldemort is calling his forces to gather tonight."

Tonight. He had only a few hours. To do what? He focused on the bracelet, trying to sense where Harry was.

"Should we recall all the militia here to protect Hogwarts, just in case?" Weasley asked, ever the strategist.

"Hogwarts is well protected. You see, the school was created by the combined magicks of the four founders and when Salazar Slytherin left, the magick was weakened. Throughout the ages, as the four Houses became more and more separate there was further weakening."

"That's why the Sorting Hat insisted that we had to come together," Granger murmured.

"But it can't be just because we're getting along that Hogwarts is stronger," Weasley argued. "I'm sure that there've been other instances of House unity in the past. What's so different about this time?"

"The creation of a new life," Dumbledore answered.

"Jamie," Granger said softly.

Dumbledore nodded. "The four magicks have been combined once again. Hogwarts is at full strength."

"Why didn't Harry say anything? Does he know?"

Dumbledore gave a tug of his beard. "Harry is...understandably cautious of prophecies and such. He didn't want to know his own son was the answer to one. But unlike Harry, Jamie doesn't have to do anything to complete his destiny. He is what he is."

A husband who is a child of prophecy. A son who is a child of prophecy. And an un-prophesied hybrid whose only talent seemed to be freaking out weather forecasters. Why was he even in the picture? What good was he? What- It hit him in that moment. Why he was there. What he had to do. And the limited amount of time he had to do it in.

"I want to be with Jamie," he said loudly, knowing that was the one excuse they would believe.

He stood and left the office quickly. In his rooms, he glanced at the clock and saw Jamie was with Pansy. Good. He tore through the bookshelf, looking for-Got it. He flung himself across the bed and began to thumb through his well-abused copy of "Ancient Elven Magic."

His hand trembled as he turned the pages.

Chapter 42: The Things We Do For Love

Harry looked at the slimy, solid rock walls surrounding him and decided he was pissed. He wasn't quite sure whom he was most pissed at though: Draco, for making him trust the Slytherins, and therefore, Nott; Nott for betraying him and Draco; the Death Eaters for taking advantage of the advantage Nott had given them; or Voldemort, because it had to be his plan and he was truly tired of the fucker and his plans.

Since he couldn't see an opening, he assumed he'd been apparated into the cave/cell/hole in the wall. He wondered if he should try apparating out, but casting a few wandless spells wasn't the same as trying to wandlessly transport his body from one point to another. Hell, splinching could occur even with a wand. Besides, since they hadn't killed him on the spot, only hexed him until he passed out, it must mean he was going to have an audience with Voldemort himself, and if he was going to do any wandless shit, it was going to be against him. If having Draco as a coach had taught him anything, it was to pick and choose his battles. Don't waste energy arguing about running two miles; save your breath for the retaliatory five miles in the dark, with a cold rain falling on your head.

So Harry sat in the middle of his personal cavern, away from the damp walls and saved his strength for the five miles with Voldemort. He hoped that the Death Eaters had been satisfied with taking him and had left his other team members alone. God, they were probably going out of their minds looking for him. Dumbledore would've contacted the Order by now. Hermione would be in the library, trying to figure out how to track him. Ron would be concocting elaborate rescue plans. And Draco, Draco would be safely in the Elven realm with Jamie.

Which was why he had to take Voldemort out of the game permanently. He was sure the realm was a nice place, but he wanted Jamie to live here, to grow up with the Weasleys, go to Hogwarts, and play quidditch with the best broomstick money could buy. There would be no cupboards for his son, no secondhand clothes, no fat-arsed cousins picking on him, no surrogate parents treating him like yesterday's garbage... No, Jamie would grow up in the Wizarding world with Draco spoiling him and demanding that he has the best of everything. And Draco would make sure Jamie knew that his other father tried to be a good man, that he died saving their world from a homicidal freak, that his daddy had loved him and hadn't abandoned him in some stupid accident.

Closing his eyes, Harry concentrated on his magic. He was at his best when he thought like a pureblood, when he didn't second guess his magic, when he let it lead him, when he trusted it. What had Dumbledore been thinking when he left him with the Dursleys? Hadn't he realized... Okay. Negative thinking-no. Positive thinking-yes. He was Harry Potter. He had survived every one of Voldemort's attacks. He was well-trained in defense and offense. He was a member of H.O.M.E. and the Aurors. He was married to Draco Malfoy.

Damn it, if he wasn't ready to kick Voldemort's arse now, he never would be.

"Come on, fucker," he whispered to the walls. "It's time to end this."

Draco sighed as he closed the Elven magic book. The chance that his newly formulated Plan would have the optimal outcome he desired was slim, but there were levels of success with the Plan, and he was certain that it would achieve what it needed to achieve. Harry and Jamie would be safe and that was what truly mattered.

A bell sounded, signaling someone was knocking on the door. Carefully putting the book under the bed, he went out to the main room and opened the door. He knew he should be surprised to see Weasley and Granger, along with Pansy and Blaise, but he wasn't.

"What are you up to?" Weasley asked, elbowing his way inside.

"You left Dumbledore's office because you said you wanted to be with Jamie. But we found Jamie with Pansy," Granger added.

"And left him where?" he asked curiously. He did intend to spend a little time with his son before...well, before.

"With the other witches," Blaise said. "He distracts them from thinking about Daphne."

"Is she-"

"The Aurors took her away. They said they'd contact her family."

"If-"

Blaise nodded. "If they're difficult about it, we'll handle it."

"Good."

"Yes, good," Weasley said. "And now if that's finished with, tell me what you're up to, Malfoy."

Draco sat on the sofa and everyone got comfortable. "What do you think I'm up to?"

"Planning a rescue."

Draco laughed and tossed a glance toward Pansy and Blaise. "You must have me confused with one of you Gryffindors."

Granger shook her head. "Don't be like this, Draco. We can help. You don't have to do it alone."

"Yeah, and you don't have to worry about us reporting you to Dumbledore or anything," Weasley said. "Sometimes you just have to do what you have to do."

All along he'd thought Harry was the ringleader for all the trouble the infamous trio seemed to fall headlong into, but now he was having his doubts. "What exactly is it that you think I have to do?" Draco asked curiously.

"Save Harry. Listen, we know you-well, you love him. All that moping around when you two had your disagreement or whatever, not to mention that binding bracelet on your arm. I was there when magic put it on, remember?"

Draco brushed his fingertips across the bracelet. "Since you think you know so much, Weasley, why don't you tell me what I'm planning?"

Weasley started to pull his feet underneath him, but stopped when Draco glared. Feet did not belong on the furniture-at any time. "I figure you're going to use the bracelet to find Harry, then use that Elven power of yours to create some kind of distraction, a storm or a blizzard or something, and then get Harry out. But you can't do it by yourself, man. You're going to need help. You find Harry, handle the distraction, and we'll get him out. You trained right along with us; you know we can do it."

Draco nodded. He knew the militia was well-trained. An assault on the place where Harry was being held was an option that could work...but, it would only be a temporary solution. His Plan was a lot more final. "Okay, but we'll have to keep manpower to a minimum. This is to be an extraction, not a battle."

"Understood, General Malfoy." Draco couldn't help but crack a smile. "Do you know where Harry is?"

"South."

"South?" Weasley frowned. "New moon."

"Yes, and...home."

"Symbolic."

"Yes."

"New beginnings."

"My thoughts exactly."

"Stop it!" Granger declared. "What are the two of you talking about?"

"Harry's to the south," Weasley explained patiently.

"Yes, I got that. Then you both went cryptic."

"Not cryptic-just Wizard-born," Pansy said.

"So you understood?"

Pansy nodded. "Potter's to the south, meaning he's probably in Wiltshire, Salisbury-home to Stonehenge, Avebury, Silbury Hill. Any of that ring a bell?"

Granger flushed. "Yes. So you're saying that since it's a new moon, You-Know-Who is going to use Harry in some sort of ancient rite at one of the stone circles."

"Or at Malfoy Manor," Weasley observed.

Draco shook his head. "Not on the property. With Father's...death, the wards of the Manor shifted over to me. Until I reset them for visitors, only Mother can come and go at will."

"Your father didn't disown you?"

"Disowning me would have brought about a lot of unpleasantness, not to mention creating sport for the common masses. Killing me was an easier option and in time, he could have created another heir."

"And that makes sense to all of you?" Granger asked. Everyone nodded. "Half the time I don't know whether to envy you or pity you," she said softly.

"Stick with the envy," Draco said flatly. "So, Captain Weasley, what are your suggestions?"

They spent over an hour discussing strategy until Draco managed to get rid of them by saying he needed to rest in order to create a spectacular distraction for the assault. As they were leaving, he asked Pansy to bring Jamie to him. When he opened the door to let her back in, he found Blaise standing with her.

"He's sleeping," Pansy said unnecessarily as she handed Jamie to him.

"That's okay. I just wanted..." He laid the baby gently against his shoulder.

"What are you planning?" Blaise asked in a whisper.

"You just left here, didn't you?"

Blaise's lip curled in one corner. "That wasn't a plan; that was the typical Gryffindor ploy of running in where angels refuse to tread. What's your real plan?"

"To end this whole fucking mess." He used his wand to accio the crib, then put Jamie down, and performed one of the useful spells Mrs. Weasley had taught him-a one way silencing spell. He could hear Jamie, but Jamie couldn't hear them. "There is some risk involved."

"How much?" Pansy asked. Draco just looked at her. "Oh."

"Potter's not going to take it well," Blaise warned.

"I know. The pisser happens to think he's the only one who can sacrifice himself for the good of Wizardkind," he said with a fond smile.

"Is that what you're doing?"

Draco sighed. "No, Pansy. If I end up being a sacrifice, I'm only doing it to protect Harry and Jamie. I trust you and the other Slytherins to look after yourselves; the rest of them can tumble into the Underworld for all I care. But Harry's just going to keep on trying to slay Voldemort until he gets the job done, and I'd rather he be here raising Jamie. If things don't turn out that way, if I can't save Harry, then I can be at peace knowing that Voldemort won't be dogging Jamie his whole life like he did Harry. On that note, if Harry or I don't return, I still want you to take Jamie to the realm until the Death Eaters are taken care of. Go to Dumbledore, ask him to open a passageway, and tell him to contact you when the coast is clear. Jamie needs to be raised here. He belongs at Hogwarts."

"We'll come back when it's safe," Pansy promised. "And, Draco, just so you know, you can fool yourself all you want, but we know you, you know."

Either there were way too many "know"s in that sentence or he was terribly tired. Or both. "What are you on about, Pans?"

"We know you care, Draco. You care about Jamie. You care about Potter. You care about your 'minions'-yes, we know about that, too. And you care about the Wizarding world."

"I-I don't," he sputtered defensively.

"You do. And I think you care too much to leave us poor, weak underlings on our own without your guiding intelligence." She smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "Whatever you have planned, you'll succeed. Jamie will grow up embarrassed by his two heroic fathers and he'll say things like, 'Why couldn't you be ordinary?' And you'll answer, 'I'm a Malfoy and he's a Potter, how ordinary could we possibly be?' Then he'll come running to his Aunt Pansy and I'll tell him what an insufferable prat his father used to be."

"I won't have you talking about my husband like that," Draco mockingly growled.

"I won't be talking about your husband." She grinned and then threw her arms around his neck. "I know you're only doing what you have to do, so I won't be soppy about this. Just do your damnedest to come back. We do need you, Draco."

He ignored the wetness in her eyes. "I'll do my damnedest," he promised as he kissed her forehead. He held out his hand to Blaise, who had watched them quietly. "Take care of them for me?"

Blaise grinned. "Can I stupefy Weasley when he throws his major fit after learning you were just having him on?"

Draco laughed. "Have fun."

Blaise sobered and pulled Draco into an embrace. "It'll only be fun if you come back."

Draco felt something catch in his throat. "I'm going to try, but if I don't...I'll say hi to Daphne for you."

Pansy couldn't hide her tears anymore, so she just turned and left. Blaise patted him on the back, then followed her out the door. Draco took down the spell he had around the crib and picked up his son.

It was a long time before he put him down again.

The crack of apparition alerted a dozing Harry that he wasn't alone. Hmm. Six Death Eaters. All with wands pointed at him. "A bit of overkill, isn't it?" he said as he yawned.

They didn't say anything, other than the one who muttered a spell that tied Harry's hands behind his back. Two of them grabbed his elbows and apparated him away. As soon as he felt solid ground beneath his feet, he was shoved to his knees and noticed that his companions-lots and lots of companions-too, were on their knees. Of course, that made him look up.

In front of him, on a stone dais, stood Voldemort. Still red-eyed and serpentine. He glared at Harry, daring him to look away. Harry did, only because something else caught his attention. A falling star. Actually, a lot of falling stars. He flashed back to Professor Sinestra's class. Mid to late November. The Leonid meteor shower. "Oh, Tom, you romantic bastard you," he said aloud. "And here I was, just expecting plain, old rose petals."

"Do you know where you are, boy?" Voldemort hissed.

Harry rolled his eyes. As if he couldn't recognize the stone monoliths of Stonehenge. Voldemort always had to be so flashy. Must be due his muggle upbringing. "Under the stars with the man of my dreams?"

Voldemort laughed. "I shall enjoy sucking out your wit along with your soul." He drew his wand. "Stand, my faithful! Stand and watch as this child who dared to stand in my way falls to he who is greater. Combibo animus! Combido auctoritas! Combibo spiritus!"

Harry saw a bright light grow at the end of the wand and he leapt to his feet. "Solvo! Contego!" The ropes fell and the white light hit the protective shield he'd conjured, bursting into millions of sparks that rivaled the falling stars.

Voldemort looked pissed, but he pulled it together quickly. "You are one; we are many. Death Eaters, defend!" he yelled.

Harry gulped as hundreds of wands pointed in his direction.

Chapter 43: Ends Are Beginnings And Vice-Versa

Draco signed his name to the bottom of the parchment, then rolled and sealed it as he had the others.

"Coo?"

Draco smiled and walked over to the crib. Bright green eyes shone up at him. He lifted Jamie and settled him on his lap as he sat in Harry's squishy chair. "You, my darling son, have perfect timing. I was hoping you'd wake before I left."

"Puh?"

"I know you don't want me to go, and I don't want to go, but...you need your daddy, so I need to save him."

"Blub."

"I know you love us both. But... Okay, here's the real deal, from one Slytherin to another: I was raised...poorly. I was not taught compassion or empathy. I was not urged to share. For the past several months, I've been faking it, using your daddy as a guide. But without him...without him I fear I will revert to what I once was, what at heart I am. You deserve...more, Jamie, and unlike my own father, I'm willing to give you what you need, be what you need me to be. I won't let a dark lord get his grubby hands on you, nor will I let him take your daddy from you. No, your papa loves you much, much more than that."

Draco sighed and adjusted Jamie's green one-piece with its red piping, tiny feet dancing in his hands as he made sure all the snaps were fastened. Considering what Dumbledore had revealed, red and green weren't going to be Jamie's only choice of colors. No, perhaps there would be Ravenclaw blue or, shudder, Hufflepuff yellow in his future. Oh well, at least that explained why the meddlesome old git hadn't blabbed to Harry about the maker of the potion, because if Snape had figured it out, so had Dumbledore. But by dosing Harry, he'd played right into Dumbledore's hands.

And wasn't that an humiliating thought.

"Already running and you can't even walk yet," he teased his son, tapping lightly on the rapidly moving soles. "Just wait until you get your first broom. I-I hope-no matter what, I'll be there for that first broom ride, little one. That's a promise, okay, and I don't make many of them."

"Bah!"

"Okay, okay, I don't make any. But I have made that one. I'll be there." He lifted Jamie and kissed the little tow-head. "I'll be there." He laid him in the crib and snapped his fingers. "Dobby!"

Pop! "Master call?" the creature said, ears standing straight up.

Draco pulled himself up to his full height and glared at the house-elf. "Clothes or no clothes, you are still bound to the House of Malfoy and me, your new master. As my house-elf, I command you to take care of the new young master until such time that I, his father, or Mistress Pansy comes for him. Do you understand?"

"But I'se fre-" Draco gave him a look and his ears drooped to the floor. "I'se understanding, Master Malfoy."

"Good. There are-letters. See that they are delivered in the morning if I'm not here...or something."

"You is going somewhere?"

"Yes, that's why I need you to look after the young master. And Harry. You'll look after Harry for me, won't you?"

"Oh, yes, I'se liking looking after Harry Potter," Dobby said happily.

Draco nodded and took one final glance into the crib.

"Aaap," Jamie said.

"I love you, too," Draco replied softly and fled the room.

Moments later, he was outside the gates of Hogwarts and apparating to Malfoy Manor. It was close to where Harry was and heavily protected, so he knew he wouldn't be disturbed. It was also...home and he wanted to see it one last time. Besides, it was fitting that he should do this here. Life-one big fucking circle.

He drew his wand and opened the imposing front doors. Standing at the bottom of the long curving staircase, he pictured his mother coming down on his father's arm, heading to an evening out or ready to greet visitors. But that was never going to happen again. He'd made sure it of that, hadn't he?

Firmly focusing on the time, he made a quick stop in his father's study, then headed to his room. Bare except for the furniture. He shrugged, knowing that everything personal had been in that odious package sent to Hogwarts. He waved his wand and the candles that had automatically lit as he entered the room dimmed to a soft glow. He walked over to the tall window that overlooked the gardens and opened it. Cool November air rushed in as a falling star streaked through the sky in the distance. He shivered. An omen?

He shucked off his robes and removed his shirt. From his belt, he removed the small ornamental dagger he'd taken from Lucius's study. Although it was an heirloom handed down through generations of Malfoys, it was honed to perfection. Less pain was always good.

He dropped to his knees before the window. Glancing at the bonding bracelet, he raised his wrist and kissed it. It was the only reason that he knew this would succeed. The ritual called for a full-blooded elf, but he was certain that the existing bond he had with Harry would cover for the ten percent of him that was wizard. Using the dagger to pierce both palms, he began to sing in Elven. He sang of the beauty of the universe, the Elven land, and the Elven way of life. Then he slashed his chest and sang of his beloved, of the heart that had claimed his, of the soul that completed his own. He sang of his desire to become one with his other half.

Slashing his forearms, he held his arms up to the open window, shivering as the breeze connected with the warm, flowing blood. "To Harry, I give myself. To Harry, I give my power. To Harry, I give my magic. To Harry, I give all that I am. Take me into your soul, beloved. Use me. Meld my power to yours. Use it to destroy, to defend, to save. We are one, Harry. We are one." Blood trailed down his arm and pooled to the floor. As it had been when he was pregnant, he felt his magic shift and smiled. Power and magic would always exist; if he'd lost it, then it had crossed over to Harry as he had willed. Weakened, it took effort to dip a finger into one of the crimson rivulets and paint intersecting lines on his forehead. Now Harry would not only have his power and magic, but also the knowledge of how to use them.

"For you, for Jamie," he whispered and gave himself over to the beckoning darkness.

As Draco slumped to one side, he thought he saw the falling stars turn the sky to flame.

By the time Harry finished gulping, he knew what to do. "Expelliarmus!" he yelled and didn't even blink as all the Death Eaters' wands flew straight up out of their hands. "Fracta!" The wands shattered into sawdust. "Incendio!" The dust burned, highlighting the plain in weird, eerie shadows thanks to the stones. The Death Eaters, some still on the ground from the powerful disarming spell, held up their hands trying to escape the falling embers. Before they could rejoice in the fact that the embers quickly burned out, a rush of hailstones had them cringing again.

"Impressive."

Harry turned around to face Voldemort who still held onto his wand and was protected by a magical shield, as was Harry. "Time's up, Tom. It ends now."

"How right you are," Voldemort hissed and aimed his wand at Harry. "Avada Kadavra!"

Harry shook his head, not even bothering to flinch. Somewhere inside, he knew the spell could not touch him. He was right; as the deadly green rush of power reached his personal shield, it dissipated into harmly green sparks. Voldemort called out three more spells, ones Harry didn't recognize, and all of them just blazed out around him. When the Dark Lord's red eyes were almost bulging out of his head due to anger, Harry smiled. "Let me show you how it's done, Tom."

He slowly slipped to his knees and held his hands up in supplication. "Amin yala onna en' vilya. (I summon the Air Elemental). Amin naa lle hin, Yaaraer. Amin naa tualle . Amin naa lle nai. (I am your child, Ancient One. I am your servant. I am yours to command.)"

He raised his head and stared at Voldemort. "Help me, my Lord Air. Destroy my enemy. Weaken the foul one. Pierce the soul of the son of snakes. Rend him to pieces so that he may not return to torture your servants. Save us, Father. Set us free."

A whirlwind formed behind Voldemort and knocked into him, jarring his wand from his hand. Instead of falling to the ground, the wand was swept up into the wind and snapped into a thousand pieces, much like those of Voldemort's followers. With the loss of the wand, the protective shield dissolved and Voldemort was pelted by the hail. Seconds later, the hailstorm changed into freezing rain and sleet. Before Voldemort could react, he was coated in ice and frozen in place. A bolt of lightning descended from a cloud directly above him. It ran through him, piercing his scalp and trailing out his foot. Everything stood still for a long, still moment, then Voldemort shattered like a delicate porcelain vase beneath the mighty blow of a mallet, pieces of him tinkling against the ancient rocks.

Harry stayed on his knees, breathless. This was it, then. Voldemort was defeated. Voldemort was gone. The storm quickly gave way to clear skies and the shield around him dissipated. He waited for the surviving Death Eaters to attack. But it didn't matter what they did or what happened to Harry. Voldemort was gone. The end for some. The beginning for others. That was more than enough for Harry.

"Bloody hell."

He turned suddenly at the familiar voice, and he adjusted his glasses to make sure he was seeing correctly. Ron. Ron was there. And Hermione. And the whole bloody Order, it appeared. Death Eaters were being unburied from the still melting hail, bound and apparated into custody. He had survived!

"Where's Draco hiding, Harry?" Hermione asked as she stepped over a sprawled Death Eater.

"Draco? Draco's not here. What are you doing here? How did you find me?" Harry asked quickly.

"Hailstorm. Ice storm. Lightning bolt. Of course Draco's here," she said huffily.

No. Draco was safe in the Elven realm. He wouldn't-

"What should we do with this?" an Auror asked, poking at one of the pieces formerly known as the Dark Lord.

Harry started to tell them to leave it, to let the carrion eaters come and peck out the choicest parts. But this was Voldemort and he didn't want to leave anything to chance. "Stand back," he ordered. "Sicco! Pulvis!" The bits dried out, then pulverized into powder. He concentrated and a mini tornado formed, sucking up the remains before skipping away and disappearing against the horizon. "It'll leave parts across the land until it reaches the sea and dumps the rest."

Everyone stared at him.

If he could, he would have stared at himself. The air was doing his bidding, but he wasn't- His heart sank. What had Draco done? "Where is he?"

Ron understood immediately. "We don't know. We made rescue plans, but when we went to meet him, he was gone. He said that you were to the south, so we just looked for strange happenings and brought help. Like you needed it. Very impressive, mate."

Harry didn't have the heart to tell him Voldemort had said the same thing. "Draco's done something. He's-he's given me his powers. What does that mean, Hermione?"

She paled. "We need to find him, Harry."

Harry concentrated on his bracelet, then frowned. "Any ideas how to do that? I can't get anything from this dumb piece of jewelry."

Hermione went even paler. "Maybe if we start at Hogwarts we can trace him?"

Harry apparated.

He raced to his rooms and found Dobby with Jamie. "Harry Potter!" the house-elf exclaimed happily. "You is found!"

"Where's Master Draco?" Harry asked as he wracked his mind for a tracing spell. Where the hell was Hermione?

"He leave and say for Dobby to care for young master."

Harry nodded and went in the bedroom to find the Marauder's Map. No Draco anywhere on the grounds. Fuck. He headed back out to the main room just as a panting Hermione and Ron came through the door. "He's not here. Hermione, can you-"

"Wait a minute," Ron said. "I think I might know where he is." They looked at him expectantly. "Malfoy Manor. It was close to where you were, Harry, and he wouldn't be disturbed because, remember, Hermione? He said the wards were only keyed to him and his mother."

"Let's go," Harry said, racing toward the door.

"Didn't you hear what I just said, mate? The wards won't let us in."

"I don't fucking care," Harry growled. "I'm getting in no matter what."

"I can get you in, Harry Potter." They all turned to Dobby. "Master Malfoy, he be saying before he left that I is not free, that I is still bound to the House of Malfoy. That mean I can get through the wards."

"That's ridic-" Hermione began, but was cut off by Harry.

"And you can take me through the wards with you?"

"Yes, Harry Potter. You is being like food or something."

Of course, house-elves had to have the ability to apparate provisions through the wards. "Take me," he said without hesitation.

"Harry, you don't-" Hermione began.

"Take me now, Dobby. I order you."

"Yes, Harry Potter, we go now." Dobby touched his hand and suddenly he was somewhere else. A candlelit room. A bedroom. He moved closer and saw the bed was occupied. With a wave of his hand, the lights brightened. Damn. Here he was frantic about Draco and the man was tucked safely into bed. With a stuffed dragon in his arms?

"Foom-Foom!" Dobby squealed in delight.

"Huh?" Something wasn't right with this picture and Harry was desperate for "right."

"Foom-Foom was young master's favorite, but when he turned seven, old master said he was too old to sleep with toys. Said he would feed Foom-Foom to the fireplace if he found him in the bed again. Young master gave Foom-Foom to the house-elves and told them not to let old master find him. Since old master gone, Foom-Foom could be found. Charm must have brought him."

"Charm?"

"Young master often fall asleep anywhere. Mistress charm room to put him to bed if he still too long. Charm put young master into pajamas, give him hug toy, and put him in bed."

So Draco had exhausted himself giving Harry his power and the room had put him to bed. Interesting charm. Maybe Mom Weasley knew it and they could use it with Jamie. "Okay, Sleeping Beauty, time to awaken," he murmured and approached the bed.

"Harry Potter! New old master not be sleeping, I'se thinking!" Dobby called anxiously from near the window.

Harry hurried to Dobby's side and looked down at the dark pool of...blood. "Fuck!" He raced to the bed and drew back the covers. Draco was indeed dressed in pajamas-that were dark with blood. "Can you take us to the hospital wing?" he asked as he scooped the unconscious form into his arms.

Dobby answered by reaching out and grabbing his wrist. Draco's childhood room winked from sight.

Chapter 44: Saving Draco Malfoy

Harry was yelling for Madame Pomfrey even before the room solidified around him. She was next to him in an instant and he realized she must have already been in the main ward. "Massive blood loss and I don't know what else," he said quickly as he laid Draco on a bed. "He transferred his magic over to me and then we found him like this. Blood magic, I assume from the cuts. But there was something Elven, too. We need Dumbledore to call Queen Arelia."

Pomfrey tsked and expertly glanced over Draco. "The queen left me instructions on how to contact her if Draco was ever injured. Severus, attend to the young man while I call the queen."

Severus? He turned to see Snape rise from the bed where he was sitting. He was bare from the waist up and covered in multi-colored bruises. "Move aside, Potter."

Snape flourished his wand over Draco, muttering things, and Harry saw the wounds start to heal and the blood disappear. "Thank you," he said, too happy to care who was doing the healing. With Draco appearing to be better, curiosity got the better of him. "What happened to you?"

Snape stared at him for a second, then turned back to Draco. "Hailstones," he said flatly.

Hail-Oh. "You were there?"

"Yes. I was getting ready to cast a protective spell over you when suddenly my wand was snatched from me and destroyed."

Oops. "Sorry about that, sir."

Snape raised an eyebrow at the apology. "Thankfully, I keep a spare." He waved the wand artfully over Draco. "Impressive display of power, Potter. Then, I assumed, Mr. Malfoy took over. However, I take it that that was a false assumption."

Harry looked down at his husband. "He did something. I had his powers and I knew how to use them. I don't even know what an air elemental is, but I called it and it did what I asked-what Draco asked. He's going to be okay, isn't he?"

"I don't know. The bleeding has stopped, but his breathing is quite shallow and his pulse is weak."

"Well, do something!"

"I can't!" Snape hissed. "He's ninety-percent elf. He needs an Elven healer."

"You've known he's an elf since this summer. Why didn't you research or something!"

"Maybe I had other important things to do-like spy on a crazed dark lord!"

Well, there was that, Harry conceded. He was just so damn scared about losing Draco. "It's okay. Queen Arelia will be here soon and she's a healer, so..." He stroked Draco's pale cheek. The skin was smooth but too cool. Maybe he needed a blanket?

"What is that with him?"

Harry looked at Snape, then at what Snape was looking at. "Foom-Foom," he said matter-of-factly. Apparently when he'd scooped up Draco, the cuddly toy had come along for the ride. "I found Draco at Malfoy Manor. An old charm in his room put him to bed with his favorite toy."

"Something survived the wrath of his parents?"

Harry nodded, hoping that something else would survive-namely Draco. As he picked up the slightly battered dragon, a door opened and Queen Arelia glided into the room, Pomfrey close behind her.

"What has hap-" the queen began to demand, then stopped abruptly when she saw the cuts on Draco's arms.

Harry quickly touched her shoulder, instinctively knowing what Arelia was thinking, or maybe even seeing. Her daughter Thisala. "It's not what it looks like. It wasn't a suicide attempt." He went on to explain what he knew and what he guessed.

"Extraordinary," Arelia said softly when he finished. "This should have been impossible. The rite is only for full-blooded elves mated to full-blooded elves. He should not have been able to transfer to you-a complete non-elf."

Harry felt a lump in his throat. "Are you saying he should have died?"

"I'm saying he should not have had the power to even attempt such an act. The completion of the first arc of the ritual should have struck him down."

Harry didn't want to think about it. "Well, he did, so the question is-can you put him back the way he was?"

She hummed and laid her hands on either side of Draco's head. She then stepped back and looked at Harry. "I can save him only because he is of my blood, but..."

"But?"

"I will have to be the conduit between you and him, meaning that I will take from you and give to him. But there is a chance that I might take too much from you, and you might become-what is the word you use? A squib?"

Harry shrugged. "Okay."

"Potter," Snape warned.

"What? Do you think I love my magic more than I love Draco? For eleven years, magic was a burden, a thing to be shunned, to be hidden. Yes, I'm glad I found out about Hogwarts. Yes, I'm glad I could stop Voldemort. But there is no doubt, no question when it comes to me choosing between magic and Draco. The queen has my permission to do whatever she has to fix Draco. Besides," he added with less conviction, "killing Voldemort was all I was good for anyway and now that's done."

"I think my son might disagree," Arelia said softly. "But I will leave that to the two of you to work out. Come, child."

"Perhaps we should wait for Dumbledore," Snape said and Pomfrey nodded quickly.

Harry gave a little smile. "I trust my mother-in-law. Do what you need to, Mother Arelia."

"I will be as careful as I can," she promised before taking his face between the palms of her hands. Her eyes locked with his.

He felt a jolt and swayed slightly. Arelia's purple irises flashed gray and she stepped back.

"Put him to bed," she ordered before turning and cupping her hands around Draco's head.

The room spun slightly as someone-a hairy hand, must be Snape-guided him to the bed beside Draco's. Then darkness descended.

When he came to, woke, surfaced or whatever, he heard voices whispering beside him.

"When did Pomfrey say he's going to wake up?"

"Probably when I hear your big mouth, Ron," Harry said, forcing his eyes to open. His first motion was to look over at the bed beside him. Draco was still there, his chest reassuringly rising and falling.

"Sorry about that, mate," Ron said sheepishly. "How are you?"

"Fine. Just tired."

"What happened?" Hermione asked. "Professor Snape came to the common room and told us you and Draco were here in the hospital wing, but nothing else."

"Draco was at Malfoy Manor. He'd done some kind of blood magic and was almost bled out. Dobby got us back here and Queen Arelia took Draco's magic from me and put it back into Draco." He wasn't about to mention that she might have taken his magic as well; he just wasn't up to the argument that would cause. "I'm all right; just got a little dizzy."

Hermione nodded. "Magical shock, I assume. So, Draco's going to be okay?"

"The queen didn't seem to be too upset," Harry answered, sitting up a little. "Where is she?"

"She said she was going to see Dumbledore and that we were to watch over you and Draco. The honest-to-goodness Elven queen, Harry," Hermione gushed. "Can you imagine what she knows..."

"I'm sure if Draco puts in a good word for you, she'll give you an interview or something," Harry said with a grin. That was so Hermione-the war and its necessary search for knowledge of how to win was over, but here she was, in search of new knowledge.

"It's over," Ron said as if reading Harry's mind. "You did it, Harry."

"With Draco's help. I guess his was the power the Dark Lord knew not," Harry said, adlibbing from Trelawney's prophecy. "Mother Arelia says that he shouldn't have been able to do what he did, that the transfer shouldn't have worked, that the attempt should have probably killed him."

"Lucky wanker," Ron said. "He should have stuck with the plan."

"What plan?"

"He was supposed to cause a storm as a huge distraction while a handful of us stole in to save you. We had it all worked out, but he said he had to rest before he could pull it off."

Harry laughed. "And you believed him? Ron, that plan had 'Gryffindor' written all over it. No way Draco was going to go for that."

"Yeah, well," Ron said, flushing. "It probably would've worked."

"And got someone killed," Harry said dryly. He noticed Ron and Hermione sharing a look. "What? Someone...got killed?"

Hermione took his hand. "When you were captured-"

It hit Harry suddenly. "Nott! He's a traitor! We need-"

"We know, Harry," Hermione continued. "He was working with Mitchell Flint. The Aurors have taken both of them into custody. It's just that-the Slytherins were only in the Aurors to watch over you."

"Draco-"

Ron snorted. "No, just to save their own arses. They knew you were the only one who could off-Voldemort," he said with effort.

Harry doubted that the Slytherins were protecting him only for that reason. Being with Draco had taught him that Slytherins often had layers of reasons for everything they did. "What? Who?" he asked Hermione.

"Daphne Greengrass. The Death Eaters killed her when she tried to stop the attack."

"Fuck," Harry said sadly. He hadn't even known her as a person-she'd been just "one of the Slytherin witches."

"Harry, how are you, my boy?" Dumbledore asked as he appeared in the room.

"Fine, sir. Where's Queen Arelia? I want to ask her about Draco."

Dumbledore winced. "She's busy re-donning her velvet glove, I believe."

"Sir?" all three of them asked together.

"Beneath her velvet glove appearance, the queen definitely has an iron fist," Dumbledore muttered. "How do you students say it? Ah, yes-the queen 'tore me a new one' for not expressing clearly enough the dangers posed to Harry and Draco by Voldemort." Hermione discreetly coughed. Harry cleared his throat and covered his smile with his hand. Ron snickered. Very loudly. Dumbledore shot him a look over his glasses. "I'm sorry that I wasn't here when all this occurred, Harry. Perhaps I could've talked Mr. Malfoy-"

Harry shook his head. "When Draco's set on a course, he pretty much stays on it," he said, remembering the painful conversation about Draco not changing how he and Harry got together. If you expect me to be sorry for saving myself from Voldemort, for Jamie coming into existence, for...for falling in love with you, I'll never be perfect for you. That's my truth for the night, Harry.

"Nevertheless, I shouldn't have been so far away. I was attempting to negotiate with the werewolves to track your loca-"

"Remus?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Is well. He'll be here shortly. In fact, the whole Order will be meeting later to develop a strategy for reorganizing Wizarding politics and such."

"And the surviving Death Eaters?"

"Are being rounded up by the Aurors. I assure you that you and Mr. Malfoy are completely safe."

"And if that doesn't assure you, I give you the same promise," Queen Arelia said as she glided into the room. "I think everyone is now clear on how far I am willing to go to protect my family," she added pointedly.

"Yes, quite," Dumbledore said with false heartiness. "Well, I'm off to make sure things are going as expected. I just want to say, Harry, that I'm proud of you and Draco. The Wizarding world owes you both a great debt." With a bow, he left the room.

Harry was impressed. He'd thought Draco's "I control the universe" attitude was strictly from being a Malfoy, but apparently Lucius had got it from both sides and passed it down. "How is Draco?" he asked his mother-in-law eagerly.

"We will know when he wakes. How are you?" Harry shrugged and glanced at Ron and Hermione. Arelia got the message. "I am sorry, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, but I must insist Harry rest now."

"Oh, of course," Hermione said, grabbing Ron's elbow. "We'll be back to see you soon, Harry."

"Bring Jamie with you," Harry said.

"We will. Bye!"

Harry chuckled. Hermione was a smart witch; if Arelia could make Dumbledore jump at her commands, there was no way she was going to try to take the Elven queen on. The smile faded, and he turned to Arelia. "I didn't tell them anything. And I haven't tried to do anything. I don't-I don't even know where my wand is."

"You do not need a wand. Command, Harry."

He rolled his eyes at her order. Definitely Draco's family. "Accio Foom-Foom." The dragon lay still beside Draco.

"Hmm," she said. "I do not believe I would have responded to such a lackluster command either. What is it, child? Are you afraid that you have lost your magic? Or do you not want it at all?"

"I want it; I just don't need it anymore."

"I forgot how dramatic you wizards can be," Arelia said with a sigh. "Of course you need your magic. It is who you are."

"No, who I am, who I was, was the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Save-The-World-From-Voldemort. I'm not him anymore. He's not needed."

She took his hand and he felt her higher body heat flow through him. "But you are. Draco needs you. Your son needs you. That is who you are. The Boy-Who-Lived was...trivial."

He gaped at her. Damn, she and Draco were two of a kind. Heaven help both the Elven and Wizarding worlds now that they'd found each other. "I thought they were going to have to survive without me. He shouldn't have-"

"But he did. And now, they will survive with you. My son is very smart and very protective. You owe it to him to be all that you are. Call the dragon to you."

Harry held out his hand and focused. "Accio Foom-Foom!" The cuddly toy flew into his hand. He stared at it for a moment, then drew it to his chest and dropped his head, not wanting Arelia to see his tears.

"Harry?"

His head shot up and his eyes met familiar gray ones. "Draco!"

His husband smirked. "My plan worked, huh? Hi, Mother."

"Don't you, 'Hi, Mother' her, Draco," Harry spat as he climbed out of his bed and onto Draco's. "She's here because you almost killed yourself, you idiot!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Voldemort is dead?" Harry nodded. "You're alive?" He nodded again. "My plan worked. Hi, Mother," Draco repeated.

Arelia's eyes twinkled like Dumbledore's. "Hello, son. After you and your mate are reacquainted, you and I need to have a talk about necessary and unnecessary risks, darling." She leaned over and kissed him. "I left the realm quite suddenly; I must return and explain. I shall be back shortly."

Draco watched her leave. "What'd you do to put me on her shit list, Harry?" he said, snuggling into the arms that had wrapped around him.

"Me? You and your plans, arsehole. What if Dobby hadn't been able to get me into Malfoy Manor? What if Arelia hadn't been able to take you out of me and put you into you again? What if-what if I'd lost you, you jerk?" Harry emphasized the "jerk" with a kiss to each of Draco's temples.

Draco directed Harry's lips to his and they lost themselves in each other for several long minutes before Draco pulled back. "Thank you for saving me, Harry Potter."

Harry should his head. "Thank you for saving yourself, Draco Malfoy. Thank you for saving the whole fucking Wizarding world."

"Purely coincidental," Draco said, sighing as he leaned against Harry. "It was all about me, you know-and well, Jamie, who's a part of me so he's me, too. You had nothing to do with this so no indulging in guilt about what might have happened. And don't you dare think that I turned noble and self-sacrificing," he added sternly. "What I did has nothing to do with such Gryffindorish tendencies. As you've often stated, I am a Slytherin, and I have no qualms about doing anything to protect what is mine. Jamie is mine, and I've done what I've done for him. He deserves to have the best of the best, and if fate had determined that he should only have one parent, well, you know I would've fucked it up royally."

"No, I don't know that. Besides, I might have fucked up royally, too."

"But your Weasleys and Granger would have stuck their noses in and straightened it out for you."

"They would've helped you, too."

"As if I'd let a Weasley help me," Draco snorted. "See? That's why you'd have made the better single parent."

All Harry could see was that Draco was so far from being Lucius, he would have made an excellent single father. Sure, he probably would have disdained Weasley advice publicly, but he would've followed it to the letter if it benefited Jamie. "Let's not argue this since, thanks to you and your mother, neither of us is going to be a single parent."

"You played a role, too."

"Yeah."

Draco entwined their fingers. "How did it feel? Having my power and yours?"

Harry remembered the cockiness he'd felt when he knew Voldemort couldn't touch him and the headiness of knowing Voldemort was finished. "Good. Maybe too good. I think...I think I know how dark lords are made."

Draco nodded. "But you don't have to worry about that. The darkness can't have you because you're mine."

"Oh, really? And are you mine?"

"I am. But Foom-Foom's not. Why do you have my toy?"

Harry looked down at the toy still clutched in his free hand. "You saved him, too."

"I did? Damn, I'm good," Draco said with a satisfied smirk, which was quickly followed by a yawn.

"Oh, you're awake!"

Harry looked up to see Hermione in the doorway with Jamie in her arms. She brought the baby to them and scurried out, saying something about having to get back to Ron.

"Tactful, isn't she?" Draco kissed his sleeping son on the forehead. "Draw the curtains around us, Harry. I want to be alone with my family for a while."

Harry moved the curtains with a flick of his hand. Then he cast a silencing spell and a room-darkening one. Although he didn't sleep, he did relax, knowing that he and his world were safe from harm.

Draco Malfoy lay in his mate's arms and dreamed. He dreamed of a future with laughing children, a loving husband, and a new realm and family to get to know. There was no darkness that had no light, no pain than couldn't be soothed away, no sorrows that weren't balanced by overwhelming happiness. Later, he woke, dazed and disoriented. He looked down in his arms to find green eyes staring up at him. He looked behind him and saw green eyes devouring him with love. He looked around him and saw friends and family and professors, people he could count on. With a sigh, he leaned back against Harry's solid, broad chest and knew without a doubt that his Plan had worked.

Draco Malfoy was saved at last.