Elemental Tapestry Vera )*( It is no dream. Far too vivid for that and he recognizes it as unwaking, but cannot rouse himself. The room is dark, a bed behind him, the sheets rumpled strewn and empty. Harry's feet are bare against stone. Before him is a loom whose shuttle moves without touch, weaving a pattern he cannot make out in the dark. Beneath his hands, something rough yet giving, warm, a brief moment of wet. On his shoulder a husky bird call. He turns to look at Hedwig, but finds a large black bird regarding him with human eyes. It is not his own scream that wakes him. )*( It was the whining of the wards that woke Ron in the depths of the night. "Harry?" There was muffled grunt from the other bed. He sighed. It was up to him then. He rose, still muzzy with sleep and out of habit reinforced the Wake-Not spell on Neville. The poor doughy boy was under so many heavy memory charms right now, it was amazing he could think in the dorm at all. Four beds in their seventh year room. Ron wouldn't have chosen to live this way. Being with Harry was great, but he could have done without the other two occupants. They'd had little choice in the matter. Dumbledore had spoken to him, Harry and 'Mione in private on their first day back and entrusted them with more secrets and responsibility. The fourth bed in their room had remained empty. Everyone else was told it had been reserved for an exchange student, who at the last minute had decided not to come. The story was easily bought with little grumbling. Then, right in the middle of Christmas break, their fourth roommate had arrived, in worse shape then Dumbledore had prepared them for. Snape had carried the bloody prize over their threshold in the earliest hours of the morning, rousing Ron and Harry from their vacation sleep. They had both thrown up after seeing the condition of their newest addition. Blond hair was caked with blood, every elegant finger hung broken, one lid lay flat where the eye had been torn out, blood seeped from several deep cuts, the lower lip bitten clean through and whole portions of flesh were mottled with black and blue where the fragile body had been rained with kicks. When Madame Pomfrey arrived, she began to cry and wept steadily as she began to heal the broken body. Snape stayed by the bedside when he could, cradling one hand of broken fingers between his own. He didn't speak, didn't cry, but his sorrow was so profound as to be palpable. They were given this broken, silent, sleeping thing to deal with for the rest of the year. The body was believed dead, buried some where discreet and it must remain that way or it would be Snape's body they found next and there would be no one to save *him*. Between the two of them, Harry and Ron had about fifty hours of medical training, preparing for dealing with this. It had been expected that this spy would be discovered and plans had been made to receive the abused flesh though none had expected it to be so horrid. With steady hands and by now, practiced ease, Ron muttered a 'lumos' over the extra bed, grabbed up the heavily spelled spool of black thread and sharp clean needle. He muttered to the wards and a faint green light burned from beneath the sheet. It was the gash in the left thigh then. The wounds had been made with a bespelled blades and hammers; they would only heal naturally, no spell or potion could speed it along. Due to the nature of the wounds they were easily reopened, every time the body shifted in thickly drugged sleep. Three weeks of sewing up torn flesh had stripped Ron of any modesty or worry. In moments, he had the sheet up, revealing the long faintly muscled thigh and it's ugly eleven inch cut, sewn neatly together for the first six inches. The rest had come undone and were sluggishly bleeding. With a fortifying breath, he set to his task of piecing delicate skin back together. When he was finished, he bit the end of the string off and spelled a knot on the end. He bent over the body to grab the sheet of parchment they recorded everything on when he heard a faint whisper. "Where...." Ron blinked down in surprise. The one eye that remained was silt open and looking about slowly. "In Hogwart's." Ron assured him. "Safe." He reached for the sleeping potion they'd been instructed to dose him with every time he awoke. "No.....please." Faint whispery words. "Awake...." Ron hesitated. He knew the pain that the whispering voice contained was excruciating. They were keeping him asleep to protect him from it. "The pain." "Please...." The last word anyone expected out of that mouth. He relented. "For a minute then." He sat in the chair that Snape still frequently occupied in the evenings. "It's Ron, by the way." The last few times he'd awaken he couldn't see at all or had trouble focusing on a face. "Professor..." He asked after his protector every time, memory still foggy. "Snape's all right. Every one is all right. You got what Dumbledore needed. You saved a lot of lives." He admitted grudgingly. A faint smile appeared on scarring lips. "Good." A light gasp as some wound or another pulled at him. "Back to sleep with you then." Ron unstopped the bottle and moved to pour it. The single gray eye focused on him for a long second, before the boy below him managed a nod. "Good night, Draco." A moment later and the eye fluttered shut again. Ron stayed awake for a long time. He reached for one warm hand, each finger set in it's own cast and cradled it between his own as Snape inevitably did when he sat vigil. It was warm under his and brutally alive. When Ron had heard that Draco would be under their care, he'd rebelled instantly. He had only managed to come around to the idea when both Harry and 'Mione tied him to a chair and made him listen to reason. Ron still hadn't trusted it until he saw the body. To keep his own conflicting emotions in check, he tried to call him 'the body' in his mind. It made it easy to stay indifferent and watch bruises turn green and yellow. That had been undone tonight. Draco was starting to rouse, his healing, but for the worst injuries, well advanced. One day soon, they would let him remain awake and 'Mione's part of this crazy project would begin. She would tutor him to keep him up to date with classes. Ron wasn't sure what he would do then. Then he would have to deal with that stormy gray and white blond. )*( The wards didn't go unnoticed by Harry, but he was too tired to even begin to stir. Ron had it well in hand most days now, taking almost every emergency that cropped up. The red head had turned out to be deft with a needle and not at all squeamish of blood as one might suspect. Remus had come tonight, explaining Harry's fatigue. The werewolf was Harry's unofficial contact for all updates on the Order's movements and decisions. They had been spending one night a week together for the past two years, leaning heads together in the dark, furtive whispers between them. Plans were made and cast aside rapidly, information traded, but nothing that wasn't a day late and a knut short. The nights left him tired and hopeless. The last thing he wanted to do was sew up Draco's damaged flesh and shudder anew at that flattened eyelid. Madame Pomfrey said they would magic a glass one, of a much better quality hen Alastor Moody’s, but she wanted to wait until Draco was aware enough to understand his situation. It made Harry cringe to think of it. His beautiful pristine nemesis brought to such lows for doing what was right. Snape, it seemed, agreed. The lean form of their potions professor had darkened their door almost every night since Draco's arrival. At first, he had put a severe damper on their usual evening activities, but eventually he became another nightly tradition. He was silent, a black splotch next to white linens, cradling one broken hand and grading papers with vicious angry strokes. For the first time since Harry had realized that Snape was a spy, he also realized he was a Good Guy. He'd known it, of course, in a vague sort of way. But now, seeing this ceaseless worry, he *knew* it. Whatever crimes he had committed as a teenager, Snape had repented and now, like Draco, he paid for it. Not bodily, but with his mind and soul. It didn't take a genius to see that Snape was tired and drawn, that a lot of his moodiness may have been natural, but it was in part from long nights spent in a darkness he no longer embraced. In the silence of one thin hand curved over another, Harry made his peace with Snape. The professor seemed to recognize the unspoken forgiveness though he did nothing in class to show a shift in attitude. There was something less acerbic in his words and Harry took to answering him back in his mind, instead of out loud, refining his answers until they were every bit as witty and cutting as Snape's. Draco was lucky to have someone so dedicated to him as Snape obviously was. Harry shivered as the parched voice of his ex-enemy begged for awareness. The smooth baritone that answered filled him again with warmth. Ron was dedicated to Harry in a way the Boy-Who-Lived had never dreamed possible. Their relationship has shifted over the past year, where once they had been mates and partners in crime they now depended on each other for almost everything. 'Mione was still their constant third, but her role of researcher never changed and both boys needed more then a brain. Harry's role in the war was becoming more focused, his constant fatigue and dwindling hope obvious. Ron had made it his job to tend him and keep his spirits high. For someone so obviously masculine, with his quick angry words and strong chin, Ron had an oddly maternal side. At first, it seemed only directed towards Harry, but more and more the red head was becoming dedicated to Draco. He split his nights between crawling into Harry's bed to soothe him awake from another nightmare and stitching the blond Slytherin back together all the while muttering words of comfort. Warmth under his hands and for a moment, Harry remembered his not dream. It slid away again as swiftly as he pinned down. Restless fatigue tossed him over a few more times, before he plunged back into black depths. )*( If Severus was prone to drink, he would have become an alcoholic the last few weeks. Luckily, his method of calm was his art. The Infirmary was going to be very over stocked this term though given the way the air fairly crackled with tension, all the surplus might be pressed into service. As he wrung the last of the burn salve clean of excess rosemary, his mind was free to wander as it was penchant to do without his permission. His thoughts strayed again to the broken boy unconscious in Gryffindor Tower. An ache he thought he'd long since numbed from him echoed in his chest. Draco had always been a willful child, but cowardly. No one had expected him to go against his father or agree to spy against him. Lucius was Draco's private god, his lord and master. Something had happened to unseat that most vaunted man and Draco had yet to tell anyone what it was. Severus had a hunch that it was something excessively unpleasant. As a man who did not often have hunches, Severus had found that his were unusually correct on the rare occasion they reared their ugly heads. With a snort of disgust, he shelved the last of the salve and turned to begin something else. The books were meaningless to his eyes, words blurring under a shaking hand. He tried to return his focus, but it had left him for the evening. He had already spent two and half-hours by the bedside of his once cocky student. The Gryffindors ignored his presence entirely for which he was silently and bitterly grateful. He had no wish to speak with them as they wandered in and out, laughing and wrestling. Weasley and Potter moved with an easier grace as they grew, a strange dual picture of health and youth. He watched them, surreptitiously as they went about their lives and it was impossible not to see James and Remus. Once he would have cast Ron in the role of Black, but in watching the red head's exquisite care of young Malfoy, he'd been forced to revise his opinion. Ron was as rambunctious and quick-tempered as Black, but dogboy had never had the patience it took to heal. That was Remus, the smallest of the Marauders, who had always been slow to judge and quick to feel. Potter was much like the senior and for that, Severus wanted to hate him. But he could not ignore that Harry was growing into a much more thoughtful young man then James had ever been. Years of constant trials had forged something strong in Harry, creating a fast mind and faster body, invisible steel. Under dark eyelashes, Severus watched the two boys, snarking at each other over homework in the easy camaraderie the last generation had shared. They were stunning together which made it all the worse to sit in silence, forever the observer, holding on again to a Malfoy. They were alive and well while Draco was broken, perhaps beyond repair. Oh, his wounds would heal, the eye replaced by some strange prosthetic...But he would never recover himself. Something had been broken deep within the Slytherin. Lucius had broken him as surely as the blade that carved into the tender flesh. If it would not reveal him for the spy he was, Severus would gladly break his childhood friend's willowy limbs and leave him for carrion to pick at his still-twitching carcass. Draco was too young to be a fragmented body, too pale, too frightened and too easily angered. Draco shouldn't have been allowed to go on the mission, but who could have denied him in his vengeful rage, gray eyes blazing, Malfoy temper at its worst? And he had courage in that moment. Not the blind Gryffindor courage that the Weasleys excelled at, but Slytherin courage full of slippery motives and honor. The Slytherin code may be live to fight another day, but when the day came they were as ready as any foolhardy Gryffindor. And Draco was a Slytherin to the core. He had sat in the warm plush chairs of Dumbledore's office and listened to speeches of safety without flinching. The Headmaster and McGonagall pleaded with him to back down, but those quicksilver eyes had been fixed on Snape, daring him to speak. He did not. He had let his approval come through his eyes, given the tacit nod to allow him to go forward. He had nearly sent the child to his death. If he had to do it all over again, he would have. And that was the worst thought of all. He could count on one hand the people who held true importance in his life. Draco, since he had met the boy at the tender age of three and held him on his lap, was one of them. He'd feared for him all the long years that he'd been under Lucius' thumb. The arrogance had welled up, an effective screen to the boy's true thoughts. Draco was the son that Snape would have chosen, should such a thing be a choice. In his mind, when all is quiet and there is nothing else to think of, he daydreams like any one else. He saw Draco growing up under his tutelage as fine and strong as platinum, instead of the pliable gold his true father sought to make him. When Draco had begun his new training, three months worth of it, Snape had seen the man he'd always hoped the boy would become. Setting out for the mission, Draco had fairly quivered with fear and right before they Apperated, the boy had turned to Dumbledore. "If I don't...live." He'd choked out. "I want my things, everything to go to Potter." "My dear boy, why?" "No one else deserves it. Besides," A smirk appeared, chasing back the fear, "It'll confuse the hell out of him." Draco Malfoy was no longer a child or a boy. In that moment and in the days to follow Severus found himself watching a man. It was a man he'd rescued and placed in Potter's dorm. It was a man who would awake and learn to cope. It was a man, who was finally worthy of Slytherin house. )*( "NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! MOTHER!!! Nonononononononono.........." Ron shot awake, ready to comfort Harry at a moment's notice from another Voldemort created nightmare. Out of habit, he started muttering soothingly. "S'alright, every thing is all right, go back to sleep." "Please no! Stop!" But the screams weren't the low rumbling terror of a nearly grown Potter. They were the high shuttering shrieks of a Malfoy. Draco thrashed in his bed, probably pulling countless cuts open. They'd been letting him sleep naturally for a few nights now, it was the first time for the screaming. Bespelled Neville slept on and Harry was conspicuous in his absence. His night with his contact then. Vaguely, Ron remembered he should leave a Pepper-Up potion by Harry's bedside for when he woke groggy after a partial nights sleep. Ron didn't hesitate to change his course away from Harry's familiar bed. The screams were too raw, too frightening to let continue. He moved to Draco's side and gently tried to shake him awake. "Get up. You're having a nightmare, Malfoy. Only a dream. Wake up." He shook harder and finally the shuddering stopped and the one eye flew open, darting around the room. A hand reached out to him, missing. The blonde's depth perception was off kilter. Pomfrey was going to implant the new eye tomorrow. He grabbed the searching hand, relived to feel reknitted bones against his fingers. It was safe to grab. "Father....not here..." "No. Only me." A soft groan and Draco pulled his hand away. He shifted in his bed, pulling himself into a sitting position. "Sounded like a bad one. The dream." "Not a dream.” A pause. "A memory." "Bad memory then." "It's none of your business." Draco snapped, pulling his hand away. The fires of Ron's temper rose. He fought to keep civil. "Look here, Malfoy…" "Don't call me that!" If Ron hadn't known better, he would have thought the last was sobbed. "I'm not a Malfoy, any more. I refuse to be one." "It's your family. You can't just not be one of them anymore." It was amazing that a one eyed man could maintain such a piercing stare. Draco had always been good at unnerving stares, but now it was almost preternatural. "I suppose you are an expert on families with that hoard that stands for yours. So you tell me: Do family members spy on each other, testing loyalty? Does family mean you own someone else? Does your family sit down to dinner and pray that maybe just for tonight it will be without violence? Do family members use Unforgivables? Do they kill each other?" "I..." "Can't answer? I can. They don't. They shouldn't. Real fathers do not kill their wives in front of their children, Ronald Weasley. I will not be forced to believe that I am a part of that. I am no Malfoy. Not any more." The steady voice wavered again. Ron stared at him in shock, trying to absorb it. He searched for something to say. I'm sorry was ridiculous, I understand was simply untrue and it will be all right...well, it wouldn't would it? He'd known Narsissia was dead and to believe it was at Lucius hand wasn't much of stretch. Draco had no reason to lie. "If you're not a Malfoy, what are you?" He finally managed. A strange wheeze startled him. The blond was laughing! "Of all the things you could have said....all the things you should have said...." "It's an honest question!" He retorted defensively. "It is, but not a very Gryffindor one. No apologies, no compassion?" "I don't understand what happened and I can't apologize. I don't see how that's at all Gryffindor or not." The strange stare pierced through him again. "When I can claim a name again I will be an Uncia. Draco Uncia." It didn't have the same ring to it as Malfoy, couldn't be spit as viciously. Yet..there was beauty in it. "I'll wake you up tomorrow before breakfast then, Uncia." A slim toothy grin followed him to his bed. "Good night, Weasley." For a moment, Ron was ready to crawl into a bed and fall back asleep, but something stopped him. It had been burning in since Snape had arrived carrying the ex-Malfoy in his arms. The flare of protectiveness that before he had associated only with Harry, 'Mione and Ginny was starting to apply to that expanse of healing flesh. The still of the night provoked him to act on it, cursing his own impulsiveness as he did so. He turned back to the other bed, finding that strong gaze still on him. "When next Lucius Malfoy and I meet, one of us will die." Never in all of Ron's life did he think he would see Draco speechless. It turned out there was a first time for everything. Trying to ignore the grip of fear in his chest, he slipped into bed and slept until morning. )*( Saturday afternoon found Draco pacing the room as Harry and Ron poured over the latest SNITCH! Monthly. Madame Pomfrey was going to implant the new eye today and the tension could be felt in the air. Neville had left a few hours earlier to spend time with his new Hufflepuff girlfriend. She seemed to be having a steadying effect on the anxious Gryffindor and they saw less and less of him. The floo shuttered and they all glanced up. Snape, who somehow always landed on his feet from the blasted thing, dusted himself off. Harry and Ron went back to the magazine, ignoring his sudden presence. Slowly, Draco stopped pacing and turned to face his teacher. "Good afternoon, Mr. Malfoy." The blond stiffened. Harry and Ron exchanged a look, before the raven-haired boy turned to his professor. "He's not a Malfoy anymore, Professor." Snape turned on his heel to glare at the bane of his existence. "Excuse me, Mr. Potter?" "Draco isn't a Malfoy, sir." Defiance sparked in green eyes. "Is this true?" The question was directed at Draco, but the potions master kept his eyes on Harry. "Yes, sir." The blond managed. "He's Uncia, now." After the glare Snape shot him, Harry wished he'd kept his mouth shut. "Is he really? Uncia.....is that really wise, Draco?" This time the Head of Slytherin turned to regard his charge. "With all due respect, sir, my name is not of much importance outside of this room. When and if the time comes that I need to lay claim to a name again, Uncia is as good as any." The single silver eye held more challenge then both would have. For a long moment, there was silence and the slight wheeze that had taken up residence in Draco's breathing could be heard. Snape seemed to be considering something and considering it hard. "Uncia would do fine, but you would be better served with something better known. When and if," He paused emphasizing Draco's own phrasing, "the time comes when you need to lay claim to a name, you will have been released to my care. Would it disgrace you to take my family name?" In an instant, the magazine lying forgotten between them, the two Gryffindors had eyes only for their teacher and his student. Draco seemed taken aback, his eye closed and his breathing quickened. Snape was frozen, his posture stiff as if gearing for rejection. Slowly, taking caution of his many wounds, Draco fell to one knee. " I would be honored to take your name, sir. I only hope I can live up the high standards that it symbolizes." He lifted his head to gaze up at Snape. "It will be a double honor to call you my brother, sir." "Brother!" The man sputtered and behind him two pairs of eyebrows threatened to rise into hairlines. Draco grinned. "I think, Draco Uncia Snape, that we will have to have a long talk at a later date. Now get off the floor. Honestly, one would think you had no brains in that head of yours." "Yes, sir." A pause. "Could you give me a hand, sir? I think I may have burst something." "Stupid Slytherin." Ron stood startling everyone. "Wrecking days of hard work for melodrama." He went to Draco's side and helped the blond up, before forcing him to sit on the bed. "What have you pulled then?" "The one on my thigh." An amused grin lingered on the blonde's face as Ron reached for his trusty needle and thread, unceremoniously lifting the other boys robe. The wound had indeed split and was oozing clear fluid. "You're an idiot." Ron accused, deftly sewing flesh back together. The blond snorted. "What's funny?" "I never thought I'd see the day that you and Professor Snape agreed on something, Weasley. But it seems you two have common ground after all." Behind them, Harry laughed too until Ron's face was nearly as red as his hair. "You're welcome." Was all he could manage, yanking down black cotton over the wounded thigh. "Oh good, everyone is here." They all turned to find Madame Pomfrey rising off the floor. "Draco if you could sit in a chair please?" The blond rose to comply, settling into the wooden seat in the corner they usually used as an informal clothing rack. "Thank you. Now, Harry, Ron? I need each of you to hold one of his arms." Ron moved first, feeling awkward as he kneeled to grasp one thin arm between his two thick ones. Elegant fingers clasped onto one of his forearms. Harry moved to mirror Ron. The scene looked disturbingly like a battered prince and his two loyal retainers. "Severus, if you would restrain his head? I don't want any other spells interfering." In an instant, Snape's long thin fingers wrapped gently, but firmly around Draco's skull. "Perfect. Now, Draco, this is going to hurt, but it would be in your own best interest not to move until it's over. The eye itself is mostly made of glass, but it has some organic pieces that will have to weave themselves inside. After a few minutes, it will be as if you never lost any vision at all." As she spoke, she removed a small box from within her robes. Delicately, she opened it removing what resembled a large white marble, except for a few strange pink strands moving languidly off of one side. With a determined hand, she opened the flattened lid, revealing for one horrid moment the socket beneath. Then with astonishing speed and a sickening wet popping nose, the marble was thrust into the socket. Draco didn't make a sound, but his grip tightened on Ron and Harry's arm. Later they would have heal identical bruises with half-moon cuts along the edges. Minutes passed and gradually, his grip relaxed and his breathing returned to a more even intake. The white glassy surface started to yield a dense black pupil and gray outline. Another moment and the glass eye was a perfect match for original. "I can see." Draco spoke without a hitch. As one, the three men restraining him released. "Thank you, Madame Pomfrey." "Your most welcome. " She turned to Ron, handing him a few vials of a pinkish fluid and a jar of orange salve. "One on every hour. If his body tries to reject the eye or he feels any discomfort then rub the salve around the socket." "Will do, ma'am." "I have no doubt of that." She gave him a warm smile, before flooing back to the Infirmary. With care, Ron placed the new medications on the already cluttered nightstand, making a few notes in the ever-present journal. There were some extraneous potions littering the desktop. Clicking his tongue, he gathered some of them and made his way to the bathroom to store them. It only took a few seconds to sort them into their proper places. When he turned to leave, he found his way blocked by a large black splotch. "Mr. Weasley." "Yes, sir?" He tried to address Snape's chest, not sure if he could take The Glare at the moment. Witnessing the transplant had left him a little shakier then he cared to admit. "I find that I must....express a measure of gratitude toward you, Mr. Weasley. You're care of Draco has been.....more then adequate." "Umm...you're welcome?" He shifted nervously on his feet. "Quite." And then Snape was gone, leaving Ron to wonder if he had fainted at some point and dreamt the whole thing. )*( " And thus we come to understand that the micronic particles do not always need to alter the direct structure of color, but have a direct effect on shading or tinting depending on polarity." Professor Richards' droned on, oblivious to the blank look on his students’ faces. A new arrival to the Hogwart's staff, Richards had a tendency to fidget nervously when approached and sneeze vehemently if pressed for conversation for any length of time. At first Harry and Ron had found this behavior suspicious, not unlike Quirrel’s all those long years ago. They’d signed up for the class in Magical Theory to observe him more closely. 'Mione had been impressed at first then disgusted after when they complained about boredom. It soon became apparent the Richards were only a threat in that they might die of boredom in his classroom. Limply, Harry flipped through his text, trying to find something remotely interesting to get him through the rest of the class. Around chapter fifteen he struck proverbial gold. The whole chapter was dedicated to wizarding bonds and how they were created. Normally this wouldn't interest Harry in the slightest, but the page he had opened to shocked his not-dream out of it's hiding place. "Elemental Tapestry, " the passage began, "is one of the rarest wizarding bonds. It occurs between four wizards or witches. The group must be all of one gender or two female and two male. Any unevenness will cause the delicate balance of the bond to break with severe consequences to all involved. Due to its rarity, it is difficult to research Elemental Tapestry. What is known is mostly myth and fragments. "The name comes from the nature of bond creation. Unlike more popular bonds, Elemental Tapestry occurs slowly over time instead of developing under pressure or stress. It can be equated to the process of weaving, hence the illusion to a loom. The four individuals involved tend to share many traits, but would never ordinarily be thought of as similar. They should be polarized like the elements themselves. "If the bond were to be represented on paper it would resemble a diamond. The bottom-most point will be the most experienced of the four, supporting at the base. The second and third serve as amplifiers, taking guidance from the base and pushing it into the fourth or focus. The focus of the bond will often be the perceived leader and if necessary can be viewed as the sole caster. The focus is the only member of the group that must be born with certain abilities, one of the many reasons the bonding is so rare. "A natural focus is difficult to find as there are no overt symptoms. It seems that the only time this bond has the potential to form is when the focus becomes aware of a need for it, either through visions or intuition. In the few reported cases of such a bonding it was found to be permanent. The group maintained certain emotions and abilities despite the need for the bonding having dissipated. "There are many theories as to how this would work considering the sheer number of micolicians needed..." Harry stared at the few meager paragraphs that had just shifted his worldview. Having read the passage over a few times, he marked the page times and tried to blank his mind. Obviously, he was meant to find out what his vision had meant. If it hadn't been this book it would have been another. Magic was funny like that. So now he knew. He was meant to go out and find three people to bond with for life, most likely so he could be an even more efficient killing machine. Lovely. "Harry...Harry! Class is over." A firm hand on his shoulder brought him back to life, fumbling with his books. "Sorry, Ron, don't know where my head went." The passage remained firm in his mind, but he thrust it aside for the moment. He would tell Ron, 'Mione and Draco when he was ready to really bounce the idea off of them. Draco? How had the blind’s name gotten on to his very short list? "Come on, Harry. Stop dawdling. Snape'll have us for lunch if we're late again." Brown eyes ghosted over him, filled with concern. "Sorry. I was just thinking....I trust Draco." "Yeah, I know. Who would have thought it?" Ron flashed him a grin. "But I guess he's got his good points." Harry blinked. A Weasley had just approved, out loud to someone else without any torture at all, that a Malfoy was not pure evil. It was too much to absorb. Best to just prepare for Potions. His desire to forget paid off. He made a perfect potion. When Snape could find no fault with it he bit off a dry Well done, Potter. Harry smiled at him blindingly. The potions master blinked, never before being on the receiving end of that particular Potter _expression and moved hastily on before he did something ridiculous like smiling back. )*( "Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra!" The muttered killing curse filled the silent dorm until at last, reluctantly, Ron rose. With a last longing look at his own bed, he crawled into Harry's and started to caress his friend's back in slow even strokes, attempting to rub warmth back into the frigid body. At some point Voldemort had discovered the pain Harry felt when he committed one of his atrocities and since the beginning of seventh year had been directly channeling it into the young man. During the day, Harry could fight it and attempt to block out the visions that assaulted him. Usually, he would just slump in his chair or lean against a wall vacant-eyed until it passed. In sleep he did not have that luxury and lay frozen and rigid unable to fight away vivid images. Ron did what he could to mitigate the painful nightmares, keeping his friend warm while whispering nonsense words into soft black hair. All too often, there was nothing he could do until Voldemort released Harry back into the real world and the other boy would slump bonelessly against him, eyes flying open into awareness. They would talk then for a long time about other things until sheer fatigue plunged them back into sleep. Tonight it seemed it was going to be a long one. Harry was stiff against him and Ron longed to see emerald eyes open to gaze at him with affection instead of worry. "Don't touch me! Bastard, fucking bastard. Not your son!" Oh, Merlin no. Not both of them at the same time.... "It all right, Draco." He assured from across the room. "Nononononononononono....." Ron sat up, torn. If he woke Draco up, the blond would stop screaming, but if he left Harry alone in the bed, the raven-haired boy might get drawn deeper into his vision nightmare. He knew from previous nights of this dual horror that leaving one to care for the other wasn't an option. //Harry's going to kill me for this// Ron realized as he lifted the stiff boy into his arms // and so is Draco, but I can't spend the night running between the two of them.// Resolutely, he carried Harry over to the other bed and whispered an expansion spell over it. When it was wide enough for two, he settled Harry next to Draco, hoping the blond would be enough warmth. Then he began the delicate task of rousing Draco without further agitating him. "Why is Potter in my bed?" "Because he needs warmth when Voldemort has a grip on his mind. Usually I'd do it, but I had to wake you up." It had taken nearly ten minutes to pry Draco from his ugly dream world and it had earned Ron a few light pink scratches. "You sleep in his bed?" Gray eyes evaluated him. Even in the dark, Draco could make Ron's skin itch. "He needs me." Ron said simply, forbearing to mention that he was currently half-lying down next to Draco in the blonde's bed and not for the first time at that. "I don't think he knows how much." The red head shifted, surprised. "You tend to him like a house elf and he never thanks you." "He doesn't need to thank me, we take care of each other. It's what friends do." "Is it? Seems to me you're all but a fucking away from being lovers. " There was no malice in the jab, but rather a guarded curiosity. "It's not like that...." Was it? Ron had never really thought about his changing feelings for Harry. When he'd seen him on the train platform after this summer, he'd only known that something had shifted between them. His blind allegiance had become something deeper and until now, he hadn't questioned it. "You sleep in his bed, hold him during his nightmares and tend to his every whim, sounds to be like it's a lot 'like that'." "I do the same for you as I do to him." Ron reminded him and suddenly wished he hadn't. The image of Draco's naked bleeding thigh flashed through his mind. "And isn't that interesting..." "Ron?" Broken soft voice and Ron immediately shifted his attention. "It's all right, Harry." Draco shifted to caress the lighting scar. "You're amongst the living again." Pushing aside an irrational surge of jealousy, Ron reached over the blond to touch Harry's arm, whispering a charm to levitate him out of the expanded bed. He would have felt bad abandoning Draco to the cold, but the blond had given him a lot of food for thought and the beginnings of an epic erection. The rest of the night was soothingly uneventful in comparison. As Harry fell asleep in his arms and Draco's breath again evened into a more peaceful sleep, Ron found himself awake, staring at the broad generous planes of his best friend's face and cursing the annoyance of a certain Uncia Snape, who had managed to complicate the one thing in his life that to this point had been pure and easy to understand. )*( "Ron! You look terrible, are you all right?" Harry rushed to his side as the red head sagged against the wall. "Lunch didn't agree with me, I suppose." He managed to get out. "Think I might vomit, actually." "Here, I'll walk you back to the dorm." He managed to shake his head weakly. "I'll make it. Just tell Hagrid I'm not well." For a long moment, it seemed that Harry might disagree and Ron had to brace himself as the contents of his stomach shifted mutinously again. "If you're sure...." "Bloody positive." "But...." "Harry go before I loose my lunch on your shoes." "I could..." "Mate, you're a shit healer and you know it." Said lightly enough to be a joke, but they both know it was true. "Go to class." A last half-smile and a feel better and Harry was gone. He moved back toward the dorms, hoping against hope that he could make it. Lack of sleep had been wearing him down and it seemed he had caught something that one of the Muggle born kids had brought back from home. He spared a brief moment he wondered if Draco's old prejudices might have some merit, before mentally flogging himself for even thinking it. He barely reached the toilet and managed to empty what was left of his stomach at once. He sat there a long time heaving and sputtering until he was sure that nothing else was going to arrive. With a quiet sigh, he whispered a cleaning charm. When he could rouse himself enough to stand, he stood over the sink and brushed his teeth until the gums bled. His every intention was to return to his room and curl up in his soft inviting bed until Neville and Harry returned. Draco wouldn't bother him this time of day. The blond had become semi-nocturnal, sleeping all morning and into the afternoon, waking when they arrived then staying up to wee hours of the morning. Blearily, Ron opened the door to his room, intent on collapsing. His eyes flickered over to Draco out of habit. He barely managed to bite off a blood-curdling scream. Lying in Draco's bed was a huge gray-spotted white cat. It was roughly the size of a large dog and it seemed to be dozing in the sun streaming in from the windows. Sensing him, it turned its curious eyes on him. One was the feral yellow of animal, the other gray with a strange sheen. Glass. "Animagi." He sputtered out. As he spoke the cat melted away to reveal a mostly healed Slytherin. Draco regarded him quietly. "When..." "I learned a lot of things before the mission." A careful elongated stare pierced the red head to his heart. Thoughts raced through Ron's mind at bewildering clip. Finally, one blurted from him. "What are you? You looked a bit like a tiger only white and smaller..." "Panthera Uncia." A smirk as the words sank into Ron's addled mind. "A snow leopard. It wasn't as useful a shape as McGonagall had hoped for." The restored body stretched, rising to a sitting position, wincing as some healing wound pulled at him. "What are you doing back so early?" "I was sick." He swayed suddenly, remembering his own current state. "I was coming back to sleep. You're unregistered, aren't you?" "I'm technically dead." He was reminded with a scowl. "Difficult to register with the Ministry." Ron swayed again. "Oh, get into bed, you stupid git, before you fall over." Too tired to argue, he complied, easing himself into the soft comfort of his bed. As he yawned, he managed another question. "Will you teach me?" "Just you? Or should Granger, Potter and I form a cozy study group?" "Just me. Harry...can't." It wasn't clear why, but Harry couldn't take animal form, even with personal tutoring from McGonagall herself. Draco said nothing and he wondered if the blond knew it already. "'Mione doesn't want too." When they discussed it, she had thought it would be insensitive to Harry if they learned without him. Ron had disagreed with her for the first time since fifth year, but it hadn't so much as dented her resolve, even when he pointed out that a change of shape might be what it took to defend their friend at a crucial moment. Without her, Ron stood little chance of figuring it out for himself. "What will you teach me if I teach you?" The voice was too near. Draco had moved to the foot of his bed. "I don't have anything to trade. I don't know anything better then anyone else." There was a pause and Ron felt defeated. He should have known that Draco would never relinquish such a precious skill for free. Every one else could do something amazing or better then any one else, not him. "Your medi-wizard training." The smooth voice intoned finally. Ron sat up to look at him. "You could learn that from any text. Harry could teach you..." "Potter is a shit healer." Ron blinked at the use of his own words. Suddenly, the blond reached down to the bottom of his robe and pulled it up, revealing one long smooth thigh. The slightest glimmer of a white line was all that remained of the once deep cut. Ron was suddenly pathetically grateful for the ache in his gut that kept his rambunctious nether regions from reacting. "You did this. Not Potter, not Granger, not even Madame Pomfrey. We're going to war. I know how to hurt, in more ways then I want to. Teach me how to heal." "But..." Ron stopped. Why was he protesting? It would be easy to teach Draco the skills he had picked up out of necessity, most of it had been nothing more then sewing and administering a potion he'd not had to make. And in exchange he would be Animagi. "Deal." He held out his hand. The blond eyed it with a trace of a smirk, but leaned in to hold it with his own. No shake. "Muggles may seal their deals with a play of dominance, but I was taught to make a show between equals." That was the only warning Ron received before swift, dry lips were on his, ghosting over them in parody of a kiss. "Now we have a deal." Draco turned and went back to his own bed, shifting as he went into the lanky feline form. It was a large spotted cat that settled back down in the stray sun. Ron decided it would be best to blame his sudden shivers on the fact he'd just been quite vividly sick. )*( Severus wasn't really sure what he was going to say when he confronted Draco. Talking to the blond had been substantially easier when he had been unconscious. He had conveniently forgotten how slippery Draco was, twisting words and meanings until things came out the way he liked. With more then a little trepidation, he flooed into the Gryffindor dorm room. Draco was ensconced on his bed, deep in discussion with Hermione Granger. They seemed to be arguing over some minor point of Transfiguration. Granger was calmly pointing to the text while Draco rolled his eyes and corrected her. Good to know that the tutoring was working out then. "You won't get his attention until their finished." Startled, Severus turned to find Potter at his shoulder, hair damp from a shower. Olfactory memory, Severus had read in some Muggle text, was the strongest and his own nose was one of the most powerful of that organ one could attain. He had always found his memory linked heavily with scent. This helped tremendously in potions, but could be extremely disturbing in other cases. Like catching the faint whiff of clean Potter giving him clear images of Remus Lupin and Lily Evans bent over a chessboard. They'd both used some Gryffindor standard soap and the smell had become Severus' link to his only tentative friends outside his own house. "At least he's studying." He managed to return, shaking himself from memory. "Draco's usually too confident to prepare properly." "I don't know." Potter's _expression turned thoughtful. "He certainly puts a lot of time into plotting and scheming. Maybe that's just a Slytherin thing. "Snape looked down in disbelief, prepared to burn the boy alive with his eyes. "I wish I could do that. Guess it's like you said, I'm too impulsive." "It's necessary." Severus found himself saying. "Without impulse, no carefully laid plan would come to fruition." "Good point." The blazing smile lit briefly upon his face again. "Thanks, Professor." "Sir? Did you come to see me?" Smooth dulcet tones tore his attention away from the strange fluttering in his gut. Draco looked at him from under light lashes, gathering together his books. "If I could speak to you alone?" "We are alone." The blond pointed out. Sure enough, Potter had already made for the exit with Granger. "I wanted to speak to you about the use of my name..." "I'm sorry if I crossed the line, sir. I'll understand if you don't wish to keep your offer standing." An easy out, how very unSlytherin. Draco was going for something larger then. "On the contrary, I wanted to ask your forgiveness for my presumption. You are a man by your own rights." Gray eyes flared. "I'm so glad to hear you say that, sir." "Oh for Merlin's sake, Draco, you've been calling me Severus when we're alone since you were five." "Sorry, habit around the Gryffindor. Wouldn't want to shock them." "I've been here every night since you're return, I hardly think they'd be surprised. Even Weasley isn't that dense." "He's smarter then he looks." Draco smiled in what seemed a genuine manner. "He's made a vow to kill my father." "What brought that about?" The blond waved his hand dismissively. "Long story." "Draco, are you ever going to tell me what he did?" A long hesitation, this hadn't been where the stealthy young man had been headed with this conversation and Severus knew it. "You know he killed my mother, isn't that enough?" His whole body tightened up. "It is sufficient cause for your actions. But I know something else happened." He held up a silencing hand. "If you don't want to tell me, I understand." "Thank you." Another hesitant pause. Then in a flash of gold, Severus found himself with a double armful of ex-Malfoy. He hugged him close and stroked the lean muscled back, soothing the wracking tearless sobs. This had always been Draco's method of sadness. His father had told him once that men did not cry, so he had stopped. In the worst moments, his whole body would wrack with silent dry heaves. It was hard to watch now, but it had been far worse when it was four years old that clung in mute sorrow to one’s robes. "I think I'll have to second Mr. Weasley's death threat." When the heaves had lessened, he tilted the younger man's face up towards his own. "How you came from his loins I will never understand." "I wish you'd been my father." The admission clutched at his heart and he gently released the other man, who knew better then to take it as rejection. "I have not wished for much in my life, Draco. It's an unfortunate waste of time and mental energy. Still, there have been many times when I wanted you to be my own." Understanding flowed between them. With a gentle bend, Severus brushed a kiss over the younger man's forehead. At the last moment, Draco raised his head and caught dry lips with his own. It was a question of equality, the exchange of a delicate press of lips. Severus knew better then to refuse. "Good night, Severus." "Good night, Draco." The potions master flooed back to his room feeling as though one weight had been lifted from his shoulders and another placed on. Draco no longer looked for him as a parental figure, but an equal. New more treacherous feelings would have to be circumvented and Severus was no longer sure he had the energy for the delicate dance of avoidance. )*( "You kissed Snape!" "Potter!" Draco whirled to see Harry standing in the doorway. "Didn't anyone ever tell you to knock." "This is my room! And you kissed Snape!" "Honestly, Potter. Didn't anyone ever teach you anything? Sit." The raven-haired boy sat on his bed still looking stunned. "Now listen closely. In pureblood society there is something called etiquette. A set of ancient traditions that coordinate how we interact with one another. It helps to define relationships in social settings and to seal deals. What you saw was not snogging or anything of the sort. It's a formal farewell. Professor was going to give me the farewell an older, more experienced wizard gives a younger. I forced him to recognize my status an equal." "But he is older and more experienced then you." "True. But for him to hold that over me would be a grotesque show of manners, especially since he recently acknowledged me as no longer a child." "Oh. So....how about ex-enemies? What's an appropriate farewell?" Green eyes sparkled at him and for a long moment, Draco made no move at all. Then, gently, he pressed his lips against Potter's. "Any worthy adversary is at least an equal. You should have learned that by now." Draco turned to go back to his bed. "You might want to tell Weasley about etiquette. I imagine it will ease his mind on several points." )*( The knock came in early evening, muffled by the thick stonewalls of his quarters. Severus hadn't originally chosen the dungeon as his living space, but after years of living in them as a student it wasn't hard to adjust. Over the years it got to the point that he could no longer imagine living in a room with window. Students usually came to his office hours with problems, but it wasn't completely unusual that they would try his quarters. His Slytherins were a determined bunch once they had set their minds on a question or problem. Dropping his quill, he moved to the door. "Hello, Professor." Behind, which was a very nervous Weasley. "Mr. Weasley. Have you lost your way?" "No, sir. I wanted to ask you about something." Brown eyes slid nervously off his face and down to the floor. "Come in and sit down then. Quickly if you please." He nodded towards the straight-backed wooden chair he kept on the other side of his desk, once he was settled into his own seat, he stared at the boy. "Well...I...uhh....I...that is..." "Sometime before curfew, Mr. Weasley." "Er...look. Draco and Harry...they've been having nightmares. And I'm used to helping Harry and I don't mind with Draco, but it's both of them now and almost every night. They're both tired. It's weakening me too. I can't afford to get sick now. Who would take care of them?" "I might remind you that Mr. Potter and Mr. Uncia's health is being watched over by Madame Pomfrey. Why did you not approach her?" "She would have only have dosed me with a sleeping potion, but that would be worse, don't you see? They need me and I can't be there for them..." The red head look worried almost to distraction. Over a Slytherin too. How odd. "What would you propose that I do?" "I don't know....I just hoped ... is there some potion you could give Draco? I'd say Harry, but his are more visions, which you know about, and I don't think we'd want to stop them even if we could. Clues to Voldemort and all. But Draco...his dreams really bother him and they're reoccurring." Ron looked up from his hands. "Please, Professor...I don't know what to do." "Surely you know that Mr. Uncia is far too proud to take a potion..." "He's not proud enough to throw me out of his bed when he wakes up screaming!" The anger is gone almost as quickly as it came. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm worried and tired." "Go back to your dorm, Mr. Weasley and I will endeavor to come up with something." For a long moment their eyes met and Ron flashed him a grateful smile. "You will, sir. " He started to rise, obeying the dismissal and then paused. "Draco won't like me saying this...but I think Lucius..." "Don't say it and it will be as if you haven't betrayed his confidence." Dark eyes snapped with understanding. "I only mention it because he trusts you, but he can't tell you." Ron paused. "Good night, sir." "Good night, Mr. Weasley." When the door had shut firmly behind the young man, Severus pushed aside the papers on his desk and laid his head in his hands. Ron, with all the Gryffindor loyalty that he held, had become as loyal to Draco as he was to Harry. The red head would fight to defend the Slytherin as hard as he would his own blood. A year ago, it would have been impossible. Even the horrendous actions a father can commit against his son had something good come from them. Draco had grown up, gained at least one true friend, more if Granger and Potter followed Weasley’s example. The blond had managed what Severus never could. He'd become an honorary Gryffindor. If Lucius had only known the outcome of his actions, he would be searching for a time reversal spell until death took him. Severus had every intention of him never finding out. And making the rest of Lucius Malfoy's life measurable in weeks. )*( "Drink this." "It smells like wet dog." Ron commented as he took the proffered vial of greenish liquid. It was Saturday and for the first time since they had made their deal, Draco and Ron were alone. "Then don't inhale through your nose. Drink. All in one go, now." With Fred and George as brothers, Ron had become used to being a guinea pig. He downed the liquid, which didn't taste any better then it smelled. "Now the spell, quickly!" "Bestia Forma Nunc." He enunciated carefully. "You have a few moments now. Think about who you are and what you want out of the transformation." He thought quickly. He wanted strength enough to protect everyone he loved, he wanted to be as lean and sleek as Draco’s form, he wanted to not be afraid any more though he knew nothing short of an end to Voldemort would bring that about.... Then he didn't have time to want any more. Draco had warned him that the first transformation was different from the others. After the first it was an almost instant, but the first. Ron had never thought he could actually feel his bones rearrange, muscles twitch and an angry bending of veins. His sight, hearing wavered then returned different sharper. And the smells....everything stank so strongly he closed his eyes and just inhaled. There was flesh before him, man. The smell was delicate, but delicious. A rolling rich laugh surrounded him. "A tiger. As red as your hair and twice as big as my form without being too different. Good choice." Then the man was gone and a smaller, more delicate cat took his place. The snow leopard sniffed at the larger animal with no concern. Obligingly, he lowered his head and smelled in return. Warmth, familiarity and pleasure flooded through his nose. With a low pleased growl he walked further, rubbing himself against his companion. It was gratifying on many levels when the leopard moved forward, sending a cascade of sensation along his thick skin. The warmth disappeared and the man was back, one hand skimming over thick fur. Stiffly, he nudged the hand, encouraging it to scratch behind his ears. Another low growl and a silvery laugh. "You should try changing back now. Just think about your human shape and hold it in your mind." It was easy enough to change back, a disappointing melt into lesser senses. "That was bloody amazing." He informed the blonde who still had a hand on his shoulder. Draco smirked at him. "You're at least three times my size. That's an impressive form. " "You smell nice." Ron blurted, immediately red. "I never noticed before." "The tiger smells like spice." The hand trailed down off of his shoulder, caressing his chest gently before falling back to the blonde's side. "A little musky." "I'm going to do something stupid now." Ron warned him. Gently, he leaned forward and quickly kissed the unsurprised blond. He pulled back, prepared for anger or laughter. Instead slender hands grasped his face and brought him forward into a slow languid kiss with a darting tongue tasting at his lips and teeth. They slid together with a groan until Draco was straddling Ron's lap a full heat pulsing between them. The Slytherin's fingers wormed under the red head's shirt and pulled it over his head, removing his own with a few whispered words. A large calloused hand landed on the hairless rib cage, above the heart. The other traced patterns into the light back muscles. Draco didn't move, enjoying the feeling of safety as Ron gently ran his hands over his exposed torso, lingering over scars and the light sprinkling of freckles over his shoulders. "You're skin is like cream." He muttered, leaning down to kiss the rounded bone of his shoulder "Nicely poetic. You look fit." He ran his own appreciative hand over a tight, if not defined stomach. "I haven't been eating much." Suddenly, Ron felt awkward. The last rush from the transformation left him and he felt cold, clammy. "Why did I need to touch you? It was like compulsion...is." He corrected, he still wanted to run his hands over pale flesh and realized that he hadn't stopped. Couldn't make himself stop. "I...." Silver eyes went wide. "I don't know. It's strong. Like it’s supposed to happen." "Magic...it always gets what it wants....I think...I wanted you before, but this is..." "Out of body. Maybe if we ride it out.." But their thoughts were already no longer there own. They dived into each other, pressing feverish kisses into each others flesh, letting their hands wander. Abruptly, Draco stood, pulling Ron after him into another steaming kiss. Fluttering hands made their way to pants and shorts, divesting each other of both. Full body contact was overwhelming and as the slightly more aware of the two, Draco took it upon himself to maneuver them into his bed. Nicely horizontal with the lighter blond settled over the squirming red head, they managed to find a comfortable enough position where they could still kiss and work on bringing each other further to the edge. Draco's skin was smooth as silk as it fluttered and twisted over Ron's cock. The red head, far less sure, his hands calloused tried to be delicate, finding the beautiful organ in his hand to be only as obscure as a borrowed broom. They moved quickly, looking for a speedy release to the heady fire that was threatening to consume them both. Centuries and minutes later, Ron's eyes rolled back in his head as he shuddered out his completion. Draco waited patiently for at least four seconds, before directing the still shaking boy back to his aching erection. A few short pulls and Draco was a quivering mess, lying heavily on top of his companion. "Can we talk about this later?" Ron's whisper stirred fine blond hairs in a short wave. "I'm exhausted." He was too late, Draco was already asleep. )*( "Sirius!" Harry blinked at his godfather. He had come to meet Remus at their usual spot, only to find the werewolf nowhere in sight. Moments later, Padfoot had appeared. "Harry..." The older man's voice, which Harry had grown so used to being strong and confident post-Azkaban, trembled and broke. "I have bad news. Remus..." Another stumbling pause. "Remus has been taken." With a soundless cry, Harry slumped to the ground, only vaguely aware when Sirius' arms came around him. They rocked together for a long time, their tears mixing and only a few mumbled words between them. Much later, Sirius outlined the incident, but there hadn't been much to say. Only that Remus' last mission was supposed to have ended a week ago, but he never made his contact. When no body was found, it was concluded that he had been taken. There was a large chance he was still alive, Voldemort liked to deliver dead or dying bodies. He had a flare for it. "I'm your contact now." Sirius told him at the last. "I wish it could have been under different circumstances, but it is good to see you again, Harry." He managed a nod, before giving his godfather once last hug. "Be as safe as you can." He pleaded. "Remus wouldn't want you dead because you were trying to save him by yourself." "I will do my best." Then there was only a large black dog that gave him a loving lick on the hand before disappearing into the night. All Harry wanted to do was go back to his dorm room and collapse into bed. He gathered his invisibility cloak around him and dreamed of warmth. Voldemort's visions were horrid, but they did have the pleasant side effect of waking up with Ron spooned against him, lips pressed to his neck. Over the past few weeks, Harry had begun to realize that that wasn't how normal friends comforted each other over nightmares and it definitely wasn't how normal friends kept each other warm when they were wizards who knew more then one spell to disperse a chill. He'd found himself thinking of Ron in a whole different light, watching his friend move about his daily tasks, sun in his hair and an unsure smile hanging about his lips. Harry had always liked making people happy, only to be expected with his upbringing, but lately he was trying extra hard to encourage Ron's smile, coaxing it from the depths. It was good for all of them to laugh again. Everything was becoming so grim. The door swung open beneath his hand and with a sigh he discarded the cloak and set it to its rightful place in his truck. It was dark and he could hear Draco's wheeze. Asleep then. He muttered a quiet 'lumos' and set about getting ready for bed. He was down to his shorts when he realized Ron's bed was empty. Momentarily terrified, he pleaded with any deity that was listening, //Please let him be all right, I can't loose anyone else tonight. Please please please.// Then his more rational mind took over and he looked to Draco's bed. He had found Ron there more then once, comforting the ex-Malfoy after one of his remember-mares as Ron had dubbed them. Ron was there all right. In bed with Draco and both of them naked as they day they were born. Harry wasn't really sure who he was more jealous of. They made a beautiful picture. Ron was in his usual sprawl while Draco curled neatly against him, his head pillowed on the strong chest of his best friend. Harry's heart tightened. No nightmare warmth for him tonight or perhaps, ever again. In the pale light of his lumos spell, he could make out the sudden glitter of two pairs of eyes. "We were waiting for you." Had Draco's voice always been a low purr? "Well, I'm back and fine, so you can go back to sleep." He snapped back. "Potter, don't be a git. Get over here. There's something going on. A compulsion ... do you feel it?" He hadn't until then, expect for the slightest tug as he went to meet Remus. Then seeing Sirius...it remained only the faintest tickle. Now at Draco's reminder, it came flooding to him and he moved without question to the bed. A bed that was large enough now to fit three. "Enlarging spell." And Ron's voice had a rasp Harry had never heard before, but wanted to listen to forever. "Easy after all the practice I've had with it at home." A pair of hands, one sleek and smooth, the other tender and rough, pulled him under the sheets. They crashed against him like bodies of water, complimentary forces that tugged him in every direction at once. Ron was kissing him and Draco was nipping at his neck, a switch and someone's hand was stroking his stomach. Whenever he made an attempt to move, he was gently, but firmly restrained. He wasn't sure whose mouth it was around his cock when he finally came, but they had taken turns so many times, it might as well have been both. He'd never cum so hard in his life. It felt as though someone had destroyed him and then meticulously put him back together. Two someone's. "Thank you." He whispered as a warm wet mouth, salty against his, finally retreated. "What brought this on?" "In the morning." It was Draco on his left, curling like a house cat into his side. "It will be all right now, Harry. It has to be." He was lying a little on top of Ron, his head where Draco's had been before all this began. A strong hand curved over his hip, protective. "Go to sleep." In the silence that followed, no one noticed the fourth glittering pair of eyes, meticulous and angry in the dark. )*( It is no dream. Harry's feet are again bare against stone. Before him is the loom whose shuttle moves without touch, weaving a pattern he can see now in a dim light. It is beginning to take form, three vibrant colors lacking only a border. Beneath his hands, something rough yet giving, warm, a brief moment of wet. Now he can tell it's fur and the wet lick of cats' tongue, a very different feel from the slobbery parting of Sirius. On his shoulder a husky bird call. He turns to look at Hedwig, but finds a large black bird regarding him with human eyes. Now he can see they are dark. Almost pitch black. )*( "Shit." He said, immediately upon waking. He sat up quickly, accidentally jarring his bed companions. A soft glow welled up in him, easing the tension of his vision. Draco groaned softly, curling tighter into himself with the removal of warmth and Ron let out a sleepy protest, his hands seeking out the still horizontal blond. "What is it, Potter?" Draco grumbled. "It's still dark for fuck's sake." "Dirty mouth, Uncia-Snape." Ron chided, his yawn slicing his statement in twain. "Voldemort, Harry?" "No...vision. I think we've bonded." Immediately, they were both awake, sitting up and staring at him. He scooted backwards leaning against the headboard and searched for the right words. "I just read about it a few days ago, after the first vision I had. There's this bonding, a four person one. It's called Elemental Tapestry... I didn't know what to make of it. I think the compulsion.... it was meant to bring us together when we couldn't. We're being drawn together like magnets " He shook his head. "Accio Theory Text." The book smacked him in the arm. "Nice moves, Potter." Draco snickered. "Harry....that was wandless magic." The snickers stopped abruptly. "Merlin. Show us that text." Harry opened the book and let them read it for themselves in the pale moonlight. He spared a glance for Neville. The boy's bed was empty. Must be with that Hufflepuff of his, Aipse Aslaf. At least someone was having nice uncomplicated heterosexual sex tonight. "So the fourth can't be 'Mione then." Ron muttered. As whenever the red head heard something surprising, he latched onto one of the lesser details. "It doesn't fit." "No...I don't know the fourth, but it has to be a man. It's not important right now...." "Harry." Draco trailed a hand down his naked chest, making him shudder. "What did you see?" He outlined the vision for them, surprised when they exchanged glances over his talk of cats. "Harry...there's something I have to tell you." Ron looked glumly into the distance. "Draco's an Animagi and he taught me. We're both cats...well larger then that." "Uncia is snow leopard. Ron's a tiger." The low silvery laugh took them all by surprise. "The ultimate in orange." "How long?" Harry turned on his best friend. "Just today, but we've had it planned a week. I'm sorry I didn't tell you...." "Are you kidding? Ron, that's great! I don't know why I didn't think of you and 'Mione learning." "Hermione didn't want us too." Brown eyes slid away to another wall. "She thought you'd feel bad since you couldn't." "That's ridiculous! Merlin, Ron, you went along with that?" "You know how she is! She had me convinced...you really don't mind?" Harry heaved a sigh and gave into the temptation rising in him. He leaned forward and kissed him hard. Behind him, Draco sucked in a sharp breath. "Beautiful." The whisper chased over Harry's neck. The talented mouth sucked over his pulse. Harry pulled back from Ron, cupping a hand over Draco's neck, gently prying the blond loose. "Ugly times are coming, Ron. When the final battle comes....I don't want to have to worry about you. I won't be able to afford it. If that means you learn things that I don't...that's all for the better. I think that's part of why the bond exists. Different strengths." He pressed his face into the juncture between Draco's swan like neck and lightly freckled shoulder. "Why am I not having a panic attack about being in bed with two men?" "Good question." Ron tugged him back, pulling him into another searing kiss. "The bond is probably soothing our anxieties until we find our fourth." Draco pulled Harry back, demanding Ron's lips for himself. "We should make it our priority to find out about as much as we can about the bond. That'll be your job Draco and Hermione when we tell her about this tomorrow." The pair turned on him, eyes wide. "I am not telling Granger that I had sex with her two best friends! She'd castrate me...." "Harry, 'Mione'll skin us alive..." He stared at them until they both started to look uncertain. "She won't care." He said softly. "And if she does then Ron will cast an Obliviate on her." "Why me?!" "You're the one who's going to tell her of course." Harry's eyes sparkled. "Consider it punishment for not telling me about the Animagi thing." "That's cruel and unusual, Potter. I thought you were the good guy." "I am. But I have layers. And Draco...don't you think it's a bit ridiculous to keep calling me by last name when we're naked?" The blond blanched paler then usual if that was possible, before his ears tinged pink. "Look, when we find the fourth, you have your panic attack about being gay, I'll have mine about sleeping with my nemesis. If I think about it now..." An image washed into Harry's mind. It had the same dark tinge as the bond vision. He was standing naked and pale before a bloodless corpse. Next to him was a man he had once loved. A bloody hand ran down his side, leaving a filthy flaking path of blood. Then it was gone as quickly as it had come. Harry glanced over at Ron and it was apparent the red head had seen the same thing. They turned in unison to the Slytherin, who was now sitting up, clutching his knees to his chest. "Draco? What was that?" "We have to research the bond." The voice was broken with unshed tears. "I just thought it and then you saw..." Great hiccupping dry sobs shook his body. In sync, the Gryffindors moved to bring their lover between them, easing him back onto the pillows, running gentle hands over his skin until they were all calmed. In the quiet of dawn, they all drifted, warmed, into a shared sleep. When they awoke later, Harry told them about Remus. It somehow didn't seem as catastrophic in the daylight. They would save him. They would save him because there wasn't any other option. Failure had ceased to be a choice. )*( Hermione shifted in the hard wooden library chair. A thick tome was spread in front of her and usually nothing would make her happier then to spend the rest of this rainy Saturday engrossed in its pages. Today though...something was making her restless. Strange half-thoughts stirred in her mind. Something was wrong and is she could almost just grasp...Something to do with Hufflepuffs.... Crookshanks curled around her ankles, soft fur tickling more then her half formed idea. "'lo 'Mione." "Ron!" Her heart beat wildly, the stray thought gone. "Don't sneak up on me like that." "Sorry." He sat down across from her. He looked different though his hair was the same as always and he was wearing the same hand me down clothes. "You look like you had a very satisfying night." "Uhhh.." His face went bright red, emphasizing the mottled bruise on his neck. "I need to tell you something, 'Mione. I have to say it all at once or it won't get out." "All right. No questions or comments until the end." She settled into the hard backed chair. "Harry has been having visions, non-Voldemort ones. There of a sort of wizard bonding. Me, Draco and him," He shifted uncomfortably under her glare, "Sorry, Harry, Draco and *I*, we're linked somehow and there's got to be one more wizard to complete it. We need you to research the bond. Draco will help." He took in a breath. "The hard part... I love you 'Mione. So does Harry. I thought for a long time that we would grow up and get married and raise a family. It was the plan....." "You're an idiot." Ron's eyes flew up to her face. She smiled at him. "Honestly. You're in the middle of what sounds like a permanent bonding and you're worried about some silly made up crush I might have on you. Ronald Weasley, I'll have you know I can take care of myself." "Sorry, Hermione." He intoned, smiling back at her. "Now tell me everything you know about this bond and I'll get some books to take up to the dorm." Gratefully, he poured out the whole story, trying to leave out the dirtier parts. She only yelled at him for a little about being an Animagi, but after he told her about Harry's reaction, she subsided. As he spoke, he realized he was dimly aware of Harry and Draco in the back of his mind. Harry was at practice and his exhalation as he performed a tight dive took his breath away. Draco was more restless, pacing the dorm room his thoughts chaotic and emotions mixed. Ron conjured calming images of the night before and pushed them at the blond. There was a startle and then a slight caress of affection. Harry chimed in with a thrill of adrenaline. It happened within a space of seconds, so short 'Mione didn't pick up on his pause. "I have a few theories...I'll have to gather some things. Tell Draco that I'll meet him in an hour. We've got research to do." Everything was right with the world when Hermione went to work, Ron decided as he flashed her a smile. She was competent almost to a fault. Before she flitted off, he pulled her into a quick hug. "You're the best." He told her, then embarrassed, he left to tell Draco of his impending slavery to the research goddess. Hermione watched him leave and sighed quietly to herself. She looked at Crookshanks and the cat gazed steadily back at her. "Why all three of them? I don't think I'm greedy, I just wanted one." Crookshanks meowed and she reached over to scratch him between the ears. "And not only that, there's a fourth lucky wizard, probably dashingly handsome, extremely intelligent and congenial, who they're going to snatch up. If the world were fair things like this wouldn't happen. " Ever practical, she thought about if for a moment. "No, I guess not. If the world was fair, Harry's parents would still be alive, Voldemort would be fifty years dead and this whole thing would never have happened." The cat pushed against her hand, closed his eyes and purred. "Yes. I should start gathering books. I have to help them." Carefully, a plan building in her mind for a systematic search, she realized how much of her usual happiness had rested on the sure knowledge that one of beautiful men her life would one day sweep her off her feet. Now, she was going to actually have to work for attention. "I hate being single." )*( Voldemort licked his chapped lips and tossed the shining silver bottle between his hands. It was really shameless how much he was enjoying his new body, reveling in the sheer physicality of his every movement. His Death Eaters watched as the vial shifted, more then just a typical QuickNap potion, it was the balance of one of their lives. Severus Snape kneeled unmasked before their master. His eyes were not watching his most recent concoction as it arched above him. "You whisper in my ear of things that Dumbledore does, Severusss...and yet, nothing that I truly want to hear." One hand to the other. "I am not naive, my little snitch. My patience has run thin and your importance dims in my eyes. Another set of eyes serve better, sharper. Mmm, yesss." "Once a traitor, always a traitor, my lord." Lucius growled at his side. The potion shattered to the ground. Snape didn't move. It had been decided then. He'd been upset when Albus had suggested such a silly escape charm, but now nothing made him happier then clutching his portkey, weaved into his very robe. "Root beer." He told his ex-master. "Avada-" He landed with a thud on the Headmaster's floor. The last thing he'd seen was Lucius' bemused _expression. The near death experience had almost been worth it. He hurt, quite desperately, but sleep drew him close. The partial casting of Avada Kedavra had drained him of his strength. Fighting it tooth and nail, he fell into a deep slumber, right in front of Albus' fireplace. )*( When the pain had lanced through Harry's scar he'd been pacing. As he'd slumped towards the floor, Ron and Draco were at his side, holding him up and dragging him to his bed. "Root beer." He informed them, before falling into a deep sleep. They stared down at him, before Ron idly reached up and rubbed at his forehead. "I have the strangest headache..." "You too?" "Sympathetic pain and emotions are common in any bonding." Hermione informed them from her place on Draco's bed. It was strewn with notes and papers after several steady hours of two hyper-concentrated brains sorting through ancient texts. "It's going to get worse before it gets better. When you find whoever this fourth is, it'll intensify for at least a few weeks until it settles." "Great." Ron sat down hard next to Harry. "As if he wasn't in enough pain." A soothing hand settled on his shoulder. Affection, sadness and agreement. He sent it back, bathing in the cool assuring touch in his mind. "We'll figure it out." The blond settled back into the minefield of papers on his bed. "Where were we?" "Making a list of things we're looking for in the fourth." "Read me back what we have so far." She glared at him. One eye rolled into his head. The glass one glared at her. "Say please and stop being gross or she won't help us." Ron chided. "Bond or no bond, you are not to command me, Weasley." The eye rolled back down. "Hermione, would you please read me what we have so far?" "Sure." She tried to restrain a smile, but it broke out anyway. She couldn't wait to see what would happen when the bond was truly set. Ron and Harry would probably have their Slytherin doing tricks. "One, we need a male. Two, according to Harry's vision, he is most likely an Animagi, who takes on the form of some type of black bird. Three, he needs to be a more experienced wizard which most likely means older. No one our age is as experienced as Harry. Fourth, every text suggests that there needs to be some previous affinity for all involved to even begin to form the bond. In other words, you already liked each other enough that the bond had something to work with. Fifth, he would have to have the aspects of the elemental that you three aren't." "What does that mean?" Ron looked up from where he was fussing over the still unconscious Harry. "He mentioned something about elementals, but I didn't really understand." "There are four basic elements. Wind, earth, fire and water. The way the Elemental Tapestry bond is structured, the four involved will each symbolize one of the elements. For instance, the one who embodies fire would have a tendency for chaos and healing, great anger and strength." Tapping her quill against the parchment list, she regarded her friend thoughtfully. "I think that's you, Ron." "Sure, stick the red head with fire. I can't help genetics." He joked, noticing that Harry seemed to have stirred into a normal restive sleep that sometimes took him after Voldemort induced pain. "It's more then your hair, but it helps. Now...Harry is most likely water. In the few case histories of the bond, it seems the focus is always water. That goes along with his personality. Tremendous power and hard to pin down, a cradler of life." She flipped through another text. "Draco...you've got to be air. Quick passionate bursts of feeling, rapid fire thoughts and often calculated risk taking." "Fair enough. That leaves earth then. Stubborn and a power that could rival Potter’s." He flicked through his notes. "That doesn't really narrow it down much." "Well, it isn't a student." Ron pointed out. "None of them are anywhere near as experienced as Harry. And it has to be somebody at school if it’s someone all three of us already know and trust." "It would have to be a teacher. An inflexible teacher with whom we must already have previous feelings for or else the bond wouldn't have worked." A brilliant rare smile flooded over Draco's face and washed over Ron. "We may have just made a tremendous breakthrough." "Oh no..." The image that Draco was concentrating on became clear to the youngest male Weasley. "No!" "What?" Hermione stared at them both. "Who is it?" "Snape." Ron said grimly, staring down at his sleeping friend. "We're going to have to bond with Snape. Harry's going to have a fit." )*( His eyes were gummy, his mouth tasted of rotted cotton and he knew that he was wearing something less then respectable, but he was far too happy about being alive to care. For a long euphoric moment, he stretched over clean linens. Not only alive, but no longer enslaved. He would never again have to grovel at the feet of the Dark Lord, no more arduous nights spent trying not to betray himself while doing the least amount of damage and no more creation potions that represented the ugliest part of his work. "Ah. Good, Severus, you're awake." The cheery voice brought him back to reality. Albus was standing by his bedside and a reminder that he'd only been freed of one master. He still had to deal with his so-called real life. "Headmaster." "You startled us with your abrupt return, but Poppy was at the ready as always. She assures me you will make a complete recovery. Am I to assume that we have lost our spy?" "You may assume all you like. The truth is that Voldemort suspected my duplicity, but even he is not truly sure which side I was on. I was no longer valuable enough to serve. Easier in the long run to dispose of me." With considerable difficulty, he drew himself into a sitting position and opened his eyes. The Infirmary was, as always, distressingly bright. "Too bad, too bad." Albus sighed. "To be frank, Severus, I'm beginning to become worried. The war is on the horizon, I am too old and Harry is too young..." "I think you underestimate yourself and Potter, Albus. There are forces at work that I have never understood, but even in my darkest hour I have hope that good will prevail." "That's awfully optimistic coming from you, Severus." "Remember that for many years I wasn't looking forward to that triumph. It is only fact. Dark Lords have risen and fallen many times and not one has come to victory. There is no reason for Voldemort to be the first. He is not any stronger or smarter then any who have come before him. It is the matter of how soon the triumph comes." Having shared the small scrap of hope that had provided him with motive to last in the world as long as he had, Severus wanted only to return to his dungeons. "Thank you for sharing that theory, Severus. It does lighten the spirit. Now then, I'm sure you would like to return to your rooms. I'll go get, Poppy." The motherly woman appeared in an instant, sternly scolding her colleague for asking to leave. After several minutes, Severus informed her that he would return with or without her permission. Tight lipped, she handed him several vials and watched him walk stiffly away. "Stubborn git. Wouldn't kill him to say thank you." She muttered to herself with a wave of her wand, the bed he had recently vacated was sterilized and folded. A small vial appeared among the sheets. The greenish glow could only be the powerful healing potion that Severus had been working on for months. "Stubborn git." She said again, this time with a lot less vehemence. )*( It seemed they were destined to keep waking in unison, a tangle of limbs and sweat. Sometime during the night, Harry had stirred, woken and been drawn to the bed where his two lovers were already twined in sleep. He'd moved to join them, feeling an inexplicable comfort in their presence. Content flowed between the three as they woke to a high waning moon. Feeling moved over minds, sensuous and tender. "Unnatural." Harry whispered into Ron's shoulder. "I'm not meant to be happy like this." "Shut up, Potter. Just enjoy it while it lasts." The silence that followed lasted about thirty seconds. "Did you figure out who the fourth was?" "Yes....Harry, don't freak out." Ron turned, provoking a protest from Draco. "Professor Snape is our fourth." "Oh." He stayed quiet for a long minute. "That makes sense....my vision....he's been found out, he's no longer a spy." "Is he all right?" Genuine concern filled Harry's mind along with something deeper and harsh. "Yes..."Hot rush of relief." Draco? You love him?" The question caught the Slytherin by surprise, his eyes widening. "I've known him since I was a child...I....I would give my life for his. If that's love then yes." Harry nodded slowly, it made a certain amount of sense. He pushed his trepidation aside, the bond allowed it, hungry for the culmination. "Ron, can you get over you're anger at him?" "I respect him more then I hate him, I think." The red head considered. "Yes, I can handle it. What about you?" "I trust him. He's always been there when I least expected him to be and after tonight, I realize how much pain he has gone through for his absolution..." He paused, conjuring the image of his formidable professor the forefront. "He's not to bad to look at. I guess I have a thing for sinister Slytherins." He reached over Ron to run a light finger over Draco's exposed torso. "How are we going to get Snape to agree?" Ron asked, trying to concentrate as lust spilled between them heady as wine. "I don't think he'll have a choice, Ron. If the three of us show up at his door at the same time, the bond should work it's own compulsion. We'll just deal with the fall out when it comes." With a reluctant sigh, he dragged himself out of the bed. "The sooner we deal with this the better. Let's get presentable. Then we can hide Draco in the cloak and get to the dungeons before anyone else wakes up." "There's never a plan where people get to stay and bed and sleep is there." Ron groused cheerfully as he followed Harry's lead. "No...not when we have to bring down a Dark Lord. Maybe after that..." "If there is an after that." Fear washed over them all, originating from Draco. "He's powerful...." Reassurance flowed from the two Gryffindors. "Together we're going to be stronger, Draco." Ron pulled the blond from bed. "I kinda think that's what this whole bonding thing is about." "I don't think you understand exactly how profound that was." Draco followed him obediently, no hint of mockery in his voice. "You'd be surprised." Harry chimed in as he entered the bathroom. "On occasion Ron's much smarter then Hermione." "Weasley?" "What?!" "That blush you have...I don't think it's a color usually found in nature." Despite himself, Harry laughed and Ron went redder. "Yeah, well. Just wait. I have dirt on the both of you. And one of these days..." "When we least expect it, I know." Harry patted him on the back, before pushing him under a gushing showerhead. And then *he* went red. "You look...good in water." In a flash, Draco was wrapped around his new favorite blushing toy and they both looked good in water.... In the end they needed a shower to clean up from the shower and Draco had interesting marks where Ron had rat tailed him with a washcloth. By the time they cloaked Draco and gathered their courage around them, breakfast was four or five hours away. It was time to finish the bond and it itched along their skin, pushing them forward and clouding their minds with unspecified lust. It was good thing that no one else was out at that hour or they might have wondered why Ron's hand kept disappearing. )*( Sleep had eluded him, despite the bone deep fatigue that had settled on him in the early hours of the morning. Something had been left unfinished, he was sure. Something undone. He had the same sort of itch under his skin that usually accompanied teaching Longbottom. Trouble was brewing. Severus shifted in his high back chair, staring into the twisting flames of his fireplace, an unfinished glass of wine in one hand. He waited for the idea to come to him, so he could rest in peace for a few more hours. There was another spy in Hogwart's and maybe that was the idea that was worrying at his mind. Another pair of eyes... A knock startled him out of his reverie. It was what he had been waiting for. If he had known he was waiting. Which he hadn't. With a short growl at his own loss of control, he rose stiffly and crossed to the door, yanking it open with more force then necessary. Before he could even fully register their presence, Ron and Harry were past him and into his rooms. The Gryffindor children regarded him with bright wary eyes. "Close the door." Harry commanded. "I do not take demands from students who barge in uninvited..." "Close the door, Severus, unless you want me to drop this cloak where someone might see." The low purr of Draco's voice to his left had the door closed and warded in a matter of seconds. The invisibility cloak dropped with a soft sigh to the ground, revealing the pale young man. "I demand an explanation for this." He growled, trying to ignore the growing haze in his mind. It was only the strangeness of the hour and his lack of sleep… "After." Draco took tentative steps towards him and automatically, Severus reached out to pull him closer, amazed at the treacherous nature of his body. A sharp quick dart of tongue moistened Draco's lips. Gray eyes regarded him frankly. "I'm sorry for this, you deserve an explanation, but I need..." Without further delay, the blonde was on his tiptoes, pulling his teacher into a hard wet kiss. Some dim part of their minds registered Ron and Harry watching in fascinated awe and then... )*( Black. Silence. A flicker of light, memories began spliced like a bad movie.... A scream...the greenish light of the killing curse....cooking smells and harsh words...the darkness of a locked cupboard and just how empty a stomach can get after days without food...fat greasy boy with hands that hurt only a little less then his words, a pair of adults, their faces hardened....the first snake....Hagrid larger even then life, the size he would appear to a small boy....Ron's face smeared with chocolate and he's a friend.....'Mione with her too bright eyes and clever ways ....Dumbledore's wink....a night wandering wrapped closely in his cloak...the moment right before he catches the Snitch, Draco growling in his ear...the Chamber of Secrets in all it's horror....his first real hug with Sirius, clutching his remaining family to him....Cedric stark in death, the creeping sound of *that* voice crawling into his head...the Order...stars above for a first foolish grope with a younger Ginny....the warm friendly comfort of their first time under a silencing charm around the bed....waking up next to Ron after a nightmare.....throwing up after seeing Draco's broken body....crying for Remus....the compulsion... loud noises, too many pairs of hands......running naked in the grass with Mum coming after waving a fresh nappy....falling asleep between the twins while hiding in the basement from the bad man....breaking an arm from falling off the willow tree....waving good-bye to Bill....yelling at Percy for tattling.....trying to read fitfully in the unnatural quiet of just him and Ginny....first game of chess, against his father, winning....Harry Potter with his strange scar and eagerness....learning to fly....the giant chess board...making a bet with Seamus....drinking pilfered fire whiskey, already queasy....cracking jokes to soothe the tension....discovering Muggle mind puzzles....'Mione getting on the train, older and curves.....waking up late at night to soothe the nightmared mind....passing a potion's exam....fumbles in the closet with Amy Tilmin....medi training....long smooth thigh with the ugly gash....Uncia....the need.... Mother and Father getting ready for a ball, she presses her lips against his forehead....playing card games with his nanny....meeting the tall dark man with the strange hook nose....sitting on Father's lap, reading slowly in French with soft words of praise encouraging him....getting lost on the grounds, hiding in the branches until his nanny finds him....a slap, a caress.....the sudden insistent presence of Crabbe and Goyle....falling asleep with his Mother's voice in his ears.....watching his favorite stuffed animal, a rather ragged snake named Eli, go up in smoke in the fireplace, his Father's lecture on strength ringing his ears more then the blows he punctuates it with....Harry Potter and failure.....taking to the air.....Pansy slipping a hand in his one night at dinner, a coy smile on her lips....Severus' approving nod at another perfect potion....being slapped by Granger.....ferret.....catching the Snitch.....sneaking into his Father's study over the summer and stealing a book.....Voldemort standing above him, a cool hand on his cheek, approving....following Blaise up a flight of stairs, a smile curled on his lip and his body taunt with anticipation...his father getting a letter in the middle of dinner, rising and slicing his mother's throat open with a dinner knife....being held still, unable to breath while a familiar hand painted his body in his mother's blood.....unthinkable horror....Dumbledore's office, Severus' nod....changing under McGonagall's watchful eyes and feeling strong....hands working over his body and knife at his temple, the point sliding in....waking to stitches in his side and warmth....the want.... a distant rustle, being held....a quiet reassuring voice the dark waves of Mother's hair falling over him....standing next to his father's coffin, a claw tight hand on his shoulder....wandering the houses many rooms, discovering the library....crunching siconuts open with his teeth under the pines....reading aloud to his Mother as she stared out the window, unhearing in widow's black.....watching another Malfoy ball under dark lashes, Lucius next to him.....running through the halls and coming up short, before he ran into a pack of taller older boys, Gryffindors....Remus' soft cool words as they pour over texts together in an effort to cram, Lily asleep, her head resting on an open book....realizing suddenly that he wants more then anything to study potions just before his cauldron turned into a large rumpled flower.....large shining teeth of the wolf.....tumbling with Yoshua into bed....tearing a parchment carefully to shreds as Black smirks at him in Transfiguration....the Mark burning into his flesh, a steady pulse of belonging and want....burning bodies....kneeling before Dumbledore, asking for a penitence....stepping before his first class, a sinking feeling in his stomach.....saying a silent good-bye to Lucius as he made his first report....being tested for his loyalty again....force feeding the youngest Malfoy a potion for a stomach virus....burying Mother....sharp eyes picking out Harry Potter from the scared pack, already prepared for the worst....being set on fire, panicking less for himself and more for the now defenseless boy....seeing Black again.....shaking Remus' hand after an Order meeting, making peace in the shadow of war....lying to Voldemort, taking the steps three at time to find the broken body....root beer....the itch..... Blackness again and there was far too much light as all four opened their eyes. )*( They had wound up on the floor, the cold seeping into their robes. Harry pressed a hand to his forehead. It was a new type of headache, one for his ever-growing list. This one ranked far below Voldemort induced, but higher then finals week with Hermione. It felt like someone had taken his head and reshuffled at will. There were all sorts of new and disturbing information filtering loose. "Ow." Ron commented. "I second that." Harry muttered. "I thought this whole thing was supposed to go slow? Like weaving....." "That was a weaving, Potter." Draco sniped, wincing at his own voice. "Our memories are all...sewn together." "I will give all of you exactly ten seconds to explain what just happened." The three younger men turned to their teacher, a shared anxiety flushing through them. "Well...it's like this..." "Draco researched it..." "Severus..." "Stop." Snape commanded. "I'm going to get up and pour myself a drink. And then one of you is going to very slowly explain. In detail." He rose and disappeared. The three boys clamored to their feet, the pain fading gently as they did so. Harry lurched as he stood, stopped by Draco's hand on his shoulder. Instinctually, he curled into the touch, pulling the blond into a full-bodied hug, vaguely aware that Ron was wrapping himself around them from behind. It was one of the most comforting embraces Harry had ever received. He had never felt more aware of someone else before as he was of the two wrapped around him. For a long moment he relished it, soaking in everything they projected at him. Then, as one, they realized something was missing. With gentle mental fingers they reached into the next room. Severus was standing, hand poised over a bottle of wine, his thoughts racing in anxious circles when he felt the touch. It shivered through him, slowing his mind and caressing his heart. A large part of him wanted to reject it, force it from his body, but the more resigned part of him had already recognized what this was and that there was no escape. He let his hand drop away, alcohol wasn't going to help the situation, before returning resolutely to his study. The three younger men watched him return. With a smirk, Draco pried himself away from Harry and rose up to his full height. Still nearly a foot shorter then Severus and a few inches shy of Harry. "There is a wizarding bond called Elemental Tapestry. You've heard of it?" He nodded. There had been some debate in Brews, Serums and Elixirs a few years back about how certain roots might effect such a bonding. Some whim had made him research it and his memory was almost photographic. "Harry is a focus. We think he was activated now that the war is approaching. Ron and I are the amplifiers. It took us some time to figure out who are base was, but once we did...There isn't a whole lot anyone can do to stop the bond from seeking completion. It was better here then in class." Harry tugged on Draco's sleeve. "What?" "You called me Harry." "You've been in my head, I can't very well call you by your last name once you've seen the insides of my skull." He paused. "There's an etiquette lesson someone forgot to teach me." "I hardly think it would come up." Severus remarked dryly. "This situation.....must be dealt with. The Headmaster should be informed. There should be some tests run to see exactly how this bond functions, how it can be broken..." Draco coughed. "What?" "'s permanent." The blond muttered. "We already looked. And before you ask, in the restricted section too." "Nothing is permanent." He said firmly, trying to ignore the looks the three boys sent at each other and the distant feeling of them under his skin. "Um...Professor?" "What is it, Mr. Weasley?" The red head bit gently on his lower lips as if making a difficult decision. If the pause had gone on any longer, Severus would have snapped at him, but suddenly the boy moved. Ron was tall, he realized belatedly, as thick warm arms wrapped around his chest. The boy's head rested on his shoulder, thick red hair brushing against his face. Nothing in him could deny how good if felt to have that heavy, well intending weight against him, embracing him, nuzzling into his neck with chapped lips. He brought up his arms with the intent to push him away and wound up drawing him closer. "This is inappropriate." "No." A rough voice in his ear informed him. "This is." The chapped lips left his neck and rested on his own thin ones. It slowly turned into a kiss, a soft nipping press that deepened gradually as Ron's hands rubbed soothingly into his back. Suddenly, the warmth was gone, replaced with a smoother, shorter body. "My turn." Draco purred, arms looping around his neck to pull him down into the same devouring kiss that had landed them in this situation in the first place. Draco didn't kiss, he fucked with his mouth, mapping territory and staking claim. Just as he adjusted to the difference, Draco was abruptly gone. Harry looked up at him shyly, green eyes glinting in amusement. His kiss was something between Ron's and Draco's, a hint of teeth and the tip of a cautious tongue along his gums with the intention of conveying a promise. "This is absurd." He informed the green-eyed demon. "Don't think about it too much. The bond shouldn't let you actually. None of us have really taken time to deal with it, yet. It's a little too much all at once." "Typical Gryffindor behavior. I'm surprised with you, Draco." One gray eye rolled up. "Give into it. We can all have panic attacks once it's over." He moved smoothly next to Harry, not exactly displacing the other boy, so much as shifting him. "Think about it this way: we're becoming a powerful weapon against the forces of darkness. And you're not about to have sex with two students and a dead man, you're going to save the world." "I am most certainly not going to have sex with...." He halted as an unadulterated wave of teenage lust broke over him, leaving him hopelessly aroused. "That was uncalled for." "Oh, I don't think it was." Draco winked at Ron. "Do you?" "Nope, not at all. Harry?" "Actually, I think it's just what the medi-wizard ordered. Bedroom?" Severus sighed and turned to lead the way. Quietly, in the back of his head, he calmly recited Draco's excuse. His bed was not going to be large enough to save the wizarding world from certain destruction. Under his eyes, his sturdy comfortable cot seamed to unfold itself, stretching until it bumped with his scanty other furnishings. “Charm.” He muttered to himself and he could practically feel Weasley’s shrug as the boy surveyed his handiwork. “Making a little go a long way is never a useless skill.” Brilliant strands of red glinted in the faint light of the candles. They were all still, poised for a long heady moment, each frozen in their own misgivings, fighting off the seductive call of the bond. Gradually, the air thickened unbearable and it was Ron who alighted first, his already dark eyes dilating to black. Demandingly, he pulled Draco against him and initiated an untalented, but enthusiastic kiss. The cascade was immediate as if they were all sharing that embrace. The boy savior of the wizarding world, very quietly snapped and pressed himself into his potions master’s arms. Before Severus could protest, Harry was hard against him, demanding a return for what he gave. It was sealing. The blond Slytherin took everything that Ron threw at him and then some. He pushed back until the red head found himself looking up at stormy gray eyes from the bed. The black sheets caught on the rough patches of his skin. “Silk.” He said softly. “A very good cloth for skin.” Draco muttered. Deft fingers were already at work unbuttoning and shedding both is own kit and Ron’s. “Good idea.” Heavy-lidded green eyes found their way to the endless rows of buttons and catches. “Mmm. Too hard. You do yours, I’ll get mind.” The compulsion must have robbed Severus of his tongue for he would never willingly follow such a directive from a student regardless of the situation and yet, he was silently and diligently shedding the thick outer robes he wore to keep out the chill of the dungeon. Somewhere, far in the back of his mind, a tiny voice tried to remind him of his own skeletal and scarred frame, but that too the compulsion choked out. For once, there was no need to compare himself to his lover or worry over acceptance. This was going to happen, regardless of any petty ideas of looks. “Merlin, you’re sexy.” A lust addled voice hummed into his bared torso. Seeker toned muscles rippled against him, cajoling him to his already occupied bed. “You wear too much clothing.” For the first time in seven years, he’d found an effective way to silence the great Harry Potter. He touched parted reddening lips with three long fingers and lowered his mouth to the arching pale neck. “Here.” A thin, scarred finger landed unexpectedly next to Harry’s pulse. It withdrew, only to dance down Severus’ side. “See what happens.” So the teacher became the student at least in the matter of this young man writhing beneath him. When he bit gently at the skin Draco had indicated, the low moan that greeted him was intoxicating. Worrying at the skin, he withdrew the silencing fingers and moved them to one pebbled nipple. “Oh…” Before he could further explore the delightful reactions, softer limbs drew him up. Another breath stealing kiss from Draco and the man was not letting go of his new prey. Besides them Harry crawled over to his abandoned friend and resumed the stroking the Draco had left off. “Oi, Potter. Hands off. That’s for me.” A feral grin did not soften the words. “Just needed a breather.” Dutifully, Harry scooted back and was treated to highly erotic sight of the white-gold body of one lover slither down the glinting red-gold of the other. Lips that had once snarled, curled and after a moment’s pause, stretched around Ron’s aching erection. The cry that wrenched from the tallest boy’s chest as he arched into the sudden suction was electric, forcing Harry away from the sight before him and back into Severus’ arms. Severus took him in and slowly broke him down with a careful litter of soft bites until he was little more then a mass of nerves. “Merlin, something in me feels you’re beautiful mine fuck me please…” He babbled on, thrashing against the silk of the bed beneath him. “Not under compulsion.” The firm voice only served to drive him wilder and he arched almost completely off the bed. Fingers strong from long hours of stirring went firmly around his aching erection and with another bite to the fatal pulse point, Harry came with a sob that might have been ‘Severus’ and a full body shudder. He fell, spent to the bed only seconds after Ron had come to a similar end at Draco’s practiced mouth. The blond looked very pleased with himself as he spat discreetly into his discarded shirt and moved languidly up to give Ron the lingering taste of himself. When he pulled back, Harry moved in and they shared the afterglow together. Severus, knelling above, watched them, hard and jealous. They were beautiful these three young men, twined red, black and gold against the sheets as if they had been made a matched set. So involved was he in his staring that the bite to his shoulder was entirely unexpected. “You may not want to take Harry’s pristine state from him, but I swear that I have long since ceased to have any virginity to speak of and I would very much like for you to screw me into the mattress.” Whatever wits might have remained after watching the godson of his worst enemy, fall to pieces in his own hands were destroyed by that request. “Lubrication?” He remembered with the last of his brainpower. “Use a spell.” They were neither of them in the mood for finesses. Only partially aware of their Gryffindor audience, they moved into a position older then history. Slithering for full body contact, Draco came to lie down on his stomach, hips propped with a pillow and two of Severus’ talented fingers working their way into his ass. “Good enough.” He said firmly as they sissored out of him. Wisely, Severus pushed away at the compulsion and did not obey. There was no way that after months of recovery and spying before that that Draco had the opportunity to be taken. And his last memory of such an intimacy might be extremely traumatic. A third finger found the resistance he had suspected and spent several long minutes fingering the opening winder, sharing several sloppy sideways kisses with the blond. “Sssseeverusssss…” The hiss was unearthly. “If you don’t do it now, then I’m going to finish without you.” “Brat.” Affectionately said, but meant and slowly, he inched his way into the willing body beneath him. “Sweet bloody hell.” The hiss approached human this time and now, Harry had edged over far enough to sip it from the panting mouth. Taking the que from his best friend, Ron pushed himself to his knees and wove himself into an awkward, but satisfying position from where he could kiss and stroke Severus’ back and shoulders. They were bent from years of leaning over cauldrons and desktops and they had carried the weight of far too much responsibility and pain. Underneath thick fingers, their strength was felt, not seen. The coupling between the two Slytherins was doomed to end as it spiraled through the Gryffindors and without touch the two boys of the lion came again as the true union ended. The four of them were locked in orgasm for a timeless instant, bound in pleasure and pain, sweat and the few droplets of blood that spilled from a pulled cut on Draco’s arm. The intensity was too much and in the end, they collapsed, wordless and exhausted. Unthinking, they curled into a position that would had set into their mental landscape, Harry and Draco bound strong together while Severus and Ron laid careful hands on their sides, protective and watchful. Sleep took them at once and wove their dreams together. )*( Hermione had found that her greatest strikes of inspiration thought occurred right before falling asleep. This was on the one hand very helpful, but on the other, extremely irritating as it usually pried her from a warm comfortable bed to the colder regions of her desk where she would scribble and read frantically until the wee hours of the morning. Tonight, on the cusp of sleep having devoured an entire box of chocolates, it occurred to her that there was no Hufflepuff named Aipse Aslaf. In fact, the name backwards was Espia Falsa which translated roughly from Portuguese into False Spy. She shot up in bed and went to check her intuition. Everything she could find verified it. Neville did not have a girlfriend and he most definitely wasn't entirely unaware of what was going on in his dorm room. There was no time to find the others, they were most assuredly in a tangle somewhere sorting out whatever they had to between them. More then a little nervous, she changed into her school robes and grabbed her wand. On light feet she moved through the boy's part of the dorm. Past the younger boys snoring and snuffling in their sleep, past the prefect's rooms and up to the more sequestered seventh year dorms. Ron and Harry's door was shut and it took several attempts to coax it open with various passwords. Finally, it swung on its hinges. Heart pounding in her ears, she crept inside. Harry, Ron and Draco were conspicuous in their absence, but Neville was a thick lump in his own bed. He seemed to have returned to bed only very recently, still thrashing to find a comfortable place. He must have been looking for Harry and Ron, she realized. Fear clutched at her heart. If he had found them.... "Petrifcus Totalus." She charmed him. His eyes flew open, but his body remained stiff. "Eclipsus." He fell into a heavy, noisy sleep. It worked then. She sat down heavily on Ron's bed staring at the Gyffindor she had always thought their friend and ally. Had he truly turned into another Peter Pettrigrew? How had they not noticed that he had slowly been slipping from them? Unable to control herself, she moved over his body and rolled up his sleeve. The Dark Mark shone freshly black against his skin. "Shit." She sat back down. She had to tell the others....but it would have to wait until morning when they returned from the dungeons. Determined to keep vigil, she shifted to a sitting position against the headboard and started doing Arithmancy problems in her head. She never noticed her eyelids getting heavy or drifting into a light dousing sleep. Luckily, her charms were true and Neville slept on. Traitor and Loyalist together in one last dim night. )*( The annoying buzz of an alarm clock woke Harry from a deeply comfortable sleep. He stretched, luxuriating in the smooth glide of skin against his sides and sent a questing arm out to stop the annoying noise. He wound up hitting someone on the nose. A deeply agitated grumble echoed at his back as the bed shifted and the noise came to an abrupt end. "Get up." Harry blinked. He could have sworn he heard Snape, but what was Snape doing in his...oh. He sat up suddenly, jarring a squeaking protest from the blond, who previously had been using him as a pillow. The black expanse of silk pooled around his waist, leaving his bare skin cold and clammy in the dungeon air. He shivered violently, once, clacking his teeth together. Automatically, Draco moved to curl around him, sharing body heat. //I slept with a Professor....I don't know whether that's really cool or really scary.// //Cool.// The younger Slytherin informed him. //Not as cool as this new development is. I didn't read anything about the bond causing mind speech.// //Ugh...shutupmorningfuzzywarmbadnowakey.Bloody Slytherin, lucky he's so sexy or I would kick his ass from here to...// A warm muffled voice rolled through them both. //Ron! We can hear you!// "Does it sound like I care?" The words sounded different when vocalized and the red headed boy blinked, then rose slowly up. "Why are you in my head?" "Excellent question." Severus looked down at all of them. "I believe the time has come to talk to Dumbledore." "What about your job?" Draco asked, snideness leaking from his mouth, but concern in his mind. "I mean...this isn't exactly orthodox...." "Considering the nature of the situation, I think he will overlook my temporary lapse in insanity. Bondings fall under mind controlling magic. According to Hogwart's rules any act committed under such cannot be judged." The confidence was belied by the wave of anxiety that flowed off of him. "Breakfast begins in a half-hour. I would recommend that you return to your dorm and attempt to right yourselves. I will inform the Headmaster that we require a meeting after classes." //After?! We can't even get out of Theory for this? I've changed my mind, he's still a greasy git.// //Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr.Weasley. Five for the insult and five for stupidity.// Ron blinked, sighed and muttered quietly both mentally and aloud about the unfairness of having the harshest teacher in school with an eye on all his thoughts. "We should go." Harry decided, rising chilled and bare to retrieve his robe, flushing with the appreciative wave of lust he received. He tossed Draco and Ron what clothes of theirs he could find, before rounding on Severus. "Good-bye. And thank you." Before Severus could say anything in return, Harry pulled him into a last searing kiss. //Ugh. Morning breath.// The echoing thought went between them, aside grateful warmth. "I shall have to ask you to refrain from such activities until we speak to the Headmaster, Mr. Potter." "Harry." Green eyes sparkled at him. "If Draco can use it out of bed, so can you." The trio lined up at the floo, each waving good-bye at Severus before disappearing. When they were gone, the potion's master sank into the welcoming arms of his favorite chair. He just knew this was going to be a trying day and it had yet even to begin. Telling Albus... Briefly he considered Apparating to a nice remote hut, somewhere quiet and dark where he could finish his research in peace. A long table cluttered up with books, cauldrons and neat rows of ingredients. But before the image could even fully rise in his mind, a mint-green touch entered his mind and Draco was reading next to him, cinnamon-red and Ron was at the window sill, bittersweet blue and Harry was at his feet, leaning against his legs. It was too late to be alone. They were a part of him now, woven strongly into his mind, a thought away no matter what distance. He mourned his solitude almost as much as he rejoiced in its decisive end. )*( Whatever the boys had expected to see when they flooed back to their rooms, enforcing their images into Severus' fantasy, it wasn't Hermione sleeping up right in Ron's bed. "'Mione?" Ron was at her side in an instant, shaking her gently awake. "Wake up..." "Hugh? Ron?" She blinked a few times, reaching up to wipe crust from her eyes. "Oh! Is he still asleep?" "Who?" Ron shot a look over to Draco and Harry. "Neville!" "Yes. Should I wake him up?" "No!" She clutched his arm. "Listen, last night when I was falling asleep...Neville doesn't have a girlfriend. There is no Hufflepuff named Aipse Asalf. It's an anagram. Espia Falsa means spy false. Neville is a spy. I charmed him asleep and petrified him. He...he has the Dark Mark." "Neville?" Harry glanced over at the sleeping face. "But he's....." "He's Longbottom. He can't levitate a feather. How is he supposed to spy?" Incredulity took over Draco's face. "And anyway there are so many spells on him, even if he was a spy, I don't think there was much he could report." "Oh, but there is. Plenty." All four turned their eyes to the rising boy. The fatty face gazed solemnly at them. "I know none of you think much of me, but honestly, I am wizard enough to know when someone's been working spells into my head. Did you know that I'm an insomniac? Yet, somehow over the past few months, I can barely keep my eyes open." "Neville, look we did it for our own protection. We couldn't.." "What? Couldn't trust me to keep a secret?" The nasty grin looked out of place on the usually melancholy face. "Or just didn't want me to join your group? Well, don't feel too guilty, Harry. I've been a Death Eater for far longer then your spells stared. It was just convenient when you started plotting right under my nose." //Severus!// //Draco, I'm speaking with the Headmaster.// //Longbottom is a bloody spy for You-Know-Who and I think he's either about to blast us with something nasty or go running to his leader with far more information then we want to be let known. Brace yourself. Harry?// //What?!// //We're going to give the bond thing a go. He's obviously resistant to sleep charms. Try something stronger.// //Stronger then Petrifcus Totalus?!// "Look, Neville...what do you intend to do?" //Nice stall tactics, Potter.// //You come up with better. Now give me something to work with.// "What do I intend?" Brown eyes flared. "Do I look like a cartoon villain?" "Er...no?" //If you would, Mr.P-Harry. Imperio.// Snape's dry voice resounded in their minds. //That would get past any personal wards.// "I didn't think so. Now then. Accio wands!" Deftly, he grabbed the four that came hurtling towards him. Ron cursed as his tore out of his hand, leaving a splinter. He rubbed his hands together. "Well, if that's all. I must be going." //I can't cast the spell without my...// //Just do it, Potter.// "Imperio!" Harry had cast the spell before in sixth year, but it had nothing like this. He had *felt* Ron and Draco draw from Severus and then throw the raw power into him. The charge was strong and the force of the spell actually sent Neville careening into a wall. His head cracked with a sickening sound and the boy sunk to the floor unconscious. Harry looked down at his bare hand. His fingertips were bruised. "Well. That was...effective." "Headmaster!" Dumbledore was staring at the three of them, Severus a lean shadow at his back. The door was flung open. They must have come running the moment they got the call. "Is everyone unharmed?" He swept the room. "Ah." "I cracked his head against the wall..." Harry flexed his hand and stared at the purpling tips. Ron fetched one of Madame Pomfrey's slaves and gently applied it. "Given the situation, I'm rather glad you did, Harry. I think that we are all long overdue for a conversation. We shall all breakfast in my office today." The twinkling blue eyes weren't quite as bright as usual. "Much grave business. Much to discuss." A brief flick of his wand had Neville levitating towards the floo and into the Headmaster's arms. "Severus and I will deal with Mr. Longbottom while you get ready." The Headmaster flooed out. Severus paused, one hand on the mantle. //Well done.// The praise was generous coming from him and the three grinned back at him. "That was...Harry. That was amazing." Hermione shook her head. "Wandless magic...and you can read each others thoughts?" Ron nodded. "Astounding. Did you try to use their Animagus powers yet, Harry? No, you probably didn't have time. Maybe..." "'Mione, you can experiment on us later." Ron told her gently, steering her towards the door. "We need to see the Headmaster in a half hour and I'm sure you want to at least have a shower." The door closed behind her before she could make a retort. //Can't we just go back to sleep?// Harry ran a hand through his hair. //It's too early for this shit.// //Get in the shower, Potter.// Draco directed. //Harry.// He reminded the blond firmly. Draco huffed. //Get in damn shower. Severus is right. You are an obnoxious brat.// )*( The mood was far more solemn as everyone sipped their last cup of tea, readying themselves for the discussion to come. The grand office seemed to have suddenly shrunk with the amount of chairs. 'Mione was poised in a one to the extreme left of the Headmaster's desk, her eyes flicking nervously over to a re-petrified Neville, currently leaned against the Headmaster's bookshelves. Harry, Ron and Draco had pulled their chairs in tight together, prepared for a show of solidarity. Severus had elected to put space between himself and his students, but whether it was for Dumbledore's benefit or his own was left unasked. "Well." Albus began giving the uneasy group a soft smiled. "I assume you would like to know what information I have managed to gather from our spy. Twenty points to Gryffindor, by the way Ms. Granger. That was truly impressive work." "Thank you, Headmaster." Her voice wavered. "Although, I think I deserve points off for failing to enforce the charm correctly." Ron rolled his eyes and Harry elbowed him hard in the ribs. "Don't blame yourself. Mr. Longbottom had taken many precautions against your charms, defenses that have not been adequately taught in our school it would seem." "If we could hire someone who wasn't something the children should be defended from..." //Oi! Leave Remus out of this.// //I was referring to our most recent blunder with the vampiric Professor Tridlin, Mr. Potter.// //Oh...sorry then.// Harry had never thought about what a mental snort would sound like. It wasn't much different from one out loud. Huh. "All too true, I'm afraid. In any case, it would seem that our friend here had significantly less information gathered then we originally feared. The wards held strong and he was not aware of Mr.Malfoy's presence until this morning. He pieced together some information about the bond, but he did not have time to report back to his contact. "We've also managed to extract from him a great deal of information. Remus is still alive, Harry." "Oh..." His eyes went wide. "Oh! Does Sirius?" "I owled him while you were eating. Harry...he is not home safe yet. He is being held at Voldemort's new base at Malfoy Manor." Dumbledore's eyes rested briefly on Draco. "The plans you copied for us have not been altered. He has gathered his entire inner circle to him there. His army of Death Eaters and Dementors that he has gathered to him are arraying....They are going to attack Hogwart's. The Ministry has refused to send aid. They do not believe there is cause for action and have instructed their many departments not to come to our aid. Our other allies may not make it time with the new travel bands the Minister has enforced. In fact, I do not believe they will." The silence that followed was thick. Hermione began to cry. //We're going to die. Even if they lose, they're going to take everything they can down with them.// Draco shivered. //They will destroy everything.// //They'll drain us of everything, no time to prepare...// Gryffindor courage seemed to fail Ron. //No.// Harry narrowed his eyes and shot a look at his silent teacher. //Who am I?// "You're not an amnesia case, Potter. You know who you are." But Snape's eyelid twitched, he understood. "I, for better or for worse, am the Boy-Who-Lived. I refuse to roll over and die because the wizarding world has grown soft and forgetful. If old Voldie wants an ugly fight I will give him one. But not here. Not on his chosen ground." He wracked the still unsorted Other Memories that fluttered through his mind. "Draco, can you still get onto the Manor grounds?" "Of course!" His pride insulted, Draco forgot to be afraid. "I know every snag and rip in the wards there are too know." "And the books that you snuck out of your father's library, do you know where they are?" //Those are books on the Dark Arts, Harry!// //I know very well what they are. I asked if you know where they are!// "Blaise Zabini has them. Their location is sealed in his memory." "I thought you were leaving everything to Potter." Severus remarked dryly. //You were going to leave your stuff to me?// //Another time.// "All right then. Tell Hermione how to access those locations, she's the only one we can afford to let look suspicious right now. The four of us need to learn the ins and outs of the bond powers. Headmaster, is there anyway we could learn how to Apperate? I know that it's illegal, but in light of the circumstances?" "I believe Professor Snape would be delighted to help you." //Delighted?! Old coot.// Ron stifled a laugh with another elbow from Harry helping him along. "Thank you." "May I ask what it is you plan to do?" Dumbledore smiled at him and Harry blushed, realizing that he'd taken over the meeting. "I'm sorry, Headmaster, but I think this is something I need to do. The Order has been very helpful gathering information and trying to find allies, but there's never been a definite plan. If I'm going to risk my life and the lives of people I care about, I want to have a plan." Reflexively, Harry rubbed over his scar. "Voldemort's power over people is not magical, but his reign over the Dementors is. If Draco's books are as useful as I hope, then we might be able to get that control for ourselves. Without the Dementors, the army is just under two hundred Death Eaters, storming an ancient stronghold. I suggest that you begin to prepare the student body for war." "How long have you been thinking about this, Harry?" Hermione asked when it seemed he was finished. "Remus and I have been talking for months about contingency plans, but nothing really clicked until...." He gestured, trying encapsulate his three companions. He turned suddenly pale and looked back to Dumbledore. "Professor Snape isn't going to be in trouble for this, is he, sir?" "No...no I don't think he will." The old wizard chuckled. "I think, in the midst of everything else it's really rather trivial. Don't you?" )*( For the first time in her photographic memory, Hermione didn't enjoy class at all. She bore it, trying desperately not to think to hard about her breakfast with the Headmaster. The idyllic world that she had grown up in was beginning to shatter and she was far from ready. Her own part to play at the moment didn't seem to hard. Yet, the very thought of accosting an unknown Slytherin....she shivered. She knew of Blaise, had spared a moment’s thought to him once in a great while. He was sharp, a whipcord thin body and face as pointed as a fox. His eyes were an icy blue and he had an untamed mane of thick dark hair. She had never spoken to him outside of classroom debate. Arithmancy let out after what seemed like hours and after a short pause in the hallway to collect herself, she hurried off the library where Draco had told her Blaise would be. "He always sits in the alcove between the Theory A-D and E-G shelves." He'd said sharply. "It's quiet and he doesn't like being disturbed. I'd recommend skipping the small talk." Sure enough, the slender Slytherin was ensconced in a stiff armchair between the theory shelves. A soft light hovered above his left shoulder, sending rainbow reflections off the pages of the heavy text he was poring over. It took her a full minute to push aside the desire to question him over the effect. "Blaise?" His eyes darted off the page to light on her face, before returning to the page. He didn't seem surprised to see her. "Granger without her guards. To what do I owe this pleasure?" "I have a message from Draco Malfoy." That got his attention. His eyes were firmly locked on her face now. "Draco is dead." "He wanted me to tell you that tamed dragons do drop their scales, but to no ordinary children." The ridiculous phrase tripped over her lips even after saying it a few times. "Sweet Merlin." Slender finger brushed hair out his face. "Is he...?" "Yes. And he needs your help. He told me to tell you that if he could he would have come himself, but that you would understand..." "Of course. Sit." He gestured her into the other chair set up at the low reading table. He took up his wand and mumbled what she recognized to be a few silencing spells. "How much can you tell me?" "He is alive and healthy. Before his departure, he left you with some of his possessions, but the memory has been partially closed off from your waking mind. He needs those things back. Once I have them, I can tell you more." She hesitated. "I'll need to put you in a light trance." "All right." He held out his right hand and pointed to a pressure point. "That will put me under quickest." "You trust me that readily?" "No, I trust Draco." He rolled up his sleeve a bit further. "Now quickly, before someone comes." Gently, she took his arm in her hands and massaged along, pushing slightly on the point his had suggested. In a matter of moments, he was obviously under. "Can you hear me, Blaise?" "Yes." The vibrancy had gone out of his voice in a way that could not be faked. "Listen closely. Almond. Pain. Carpet. Mother. Needle." The random series of words should open the memories. "Do you know where the books Draco left you are?" "They are in hidden compartment in the Theory shelves." "Remember that after I wake you." She soothed his arm again, rousing him back. "You need them now?" He was immediately in the moment, shifting the book to the table. "The sooner the better." He picked through the shelves, his fingers running over smooth wood looking for the catch. Finally, his finger snagged and he tugged at it lightly, touching the tip of his wand to the splinter-like tab that appeared. Abruptly, the shelf expanded, groaning at the unnatural girth. With quick hands, he pulled about three books down and the shelf snapped back to its original dimensions. Hermione could see the titles as he returned and shivered. They were what Harry wanted all right. Spells, charms and potions that were darker then anything she had ever wanted to touch. Blaise offered the pile to her, but kept his hands tightly around it as she gripped. "I have to get these to him quickly." Fear sliced through her veins. He was going to hex her or worse. "I understand...but meet me here? Tonight. Tell me everything that you can without endangering him. I've seen you here before, burning the midnight oil, it won't raise suspicions." The low eagerness in his voice coaxed her more then anything else. She ignored the faint blush rising in her cheeks. He had noticed her. "I'll be here." Awkward pause. "Ummm...thank you." He watched her leave, silent and thoughtful. She felt his eyes long after she had left the library behind. )*( Dumbledore had given the bond group the next two days off. People would talk and leap to assumptions, but nothing could be done about that. In dark days, prioritizing took on a whole new meaning. They walked in a pack, silently agreed, down to Severus' rooms. Once behind locked doors and a few silencing spells, the potions master turned on Harry. "There is no way I can teach you lot how to Apperate in two days. The standard training period is nearly six months and most people still don't receive their licenses on the first go around." "You don't have to teach us. I only asked Dumbledore so that we would have permission to Apperate. You and Draco already know how to which means, theoretically, Ron and I can just pick it up from the two of you." He tapped his head. "We have your memories of Apperating in our minds. We have to make it ours." "You're not seriously suggesting that the bond can be used to skip the learning process?" For once, it didn't seem that Severus was critizing rather like he was intrigued in an academic fashion. "It would follow that all three of you are now potions masters." "It doesn't work that way." Draco joined in, having settled in one of the armchairs by the fire. "The bond allows us to share certain kinds of knowledge. We could remember a list of ingredients you might have memorized and have a vague idea of how to put it together, but the actual art is all in your mind. That's how we maintain our individuality. We still have distinct personalities and talents that separate our minds." While he spoke, Ron sank down to the floor in front of him and sat, leaning against his legs. Absently, Draco carded a hand through thick red hair. Harry settled into the second armchair, ignoring Severus' glare. The older man summoned his reading chair from the bedroom, ensconcing himself in it with all the air of a disgruntled cat. "That's basically the theory I was working with." Green eyes sparkled thoughtfully. "That and 'Mione mentioned that I might be able to become Animagi now. Changing form and shifting to another place both require a change in the body. I thought maybe it would work the same way." "That was actually a well reasoned argument." Severus narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure you aren't some Polyjuiced spy?" Harry stuck out his tongue at him. "Never mind." "Maybe we should try the Animagi thing first." Ron suggested from the floor. "Less likelihood of losing body parts." "I've some of the potion left over from teaching Ron..." Draco flinched when black eyes fell on him. "I made it myself!" He defended weakly. "Uhh...I don't think I'll need it. I've already had it once when Professor McGonagall was trying to teach me. I've got the spell in my memory." He rose, wiping the sweat off his palms with his robes. "Let's see....guess I don't need my wand." "Use it. Until we've done more research on the bond. You're fingers are still bruised." The words were accompanied by a reluctant wave of worry. Harry sent Severus a tight smile. He knew now, just how much his teacher worried about him, dogged his steps and learned his habits to keep him safe. It was one of the most loving things any one had ever done for him. "Bestia Forma Nunc." He said slowly, wand pointed at his abdomen. The world...tilted for a moment, spinning and a faint wave of nausea ran through him. When it passed, he glanced down to find nothing changed. Expect his eyesight was a little blurry. He took off his glasses, intending to clean them, but found that he could see perfectly without them and his hands were strange.... "Bloody hell." Ron stared up at him. "I guess that's what that stupid theory text meant when it said the focus would change everyone else’s magic." "What?" He demanded. "What am I? Why can I speak?" "Not what. Who!" Ron shook his head sadly. "Not bad enough there's one of them. There's a mirror behind you." Harry turned and faced the conjured mirror (Severus must have done it, he realized, Draco had a too-stunned-to-think look in his face and Ron was hopeless with reflective charms). He found himself face to face with Draco. He put a hand to softer jaw line and tucked white-blond hair behind an ear. It was a perfect likeness. With a sinking sensation, Harry held the picture of his best friend tight in his head and shifted as McGonagall had instructed him to do. Once more, his perceptions shifted and he could feel his bones flexing to accommodate the extra height. In moments he was an exact duplicate of Ron. Wide brown eyes gazed at him from the mirror, his lower lip protruded slightly in Ron's almost permanent pout. He didn't stay in the form long enough for anyone to comment. Rapidly, he shifted again. Another spurt of bone, a sagging of the flesh and he was looking at Severus. He gave the glum image a huge smile. "That's unnatural." Draco said, covering a laugh. Gingerly, Harry eased back to his own shape. "If I can do that, I think Ron and I can Apperate." "I only hope that the focus effect doesn't land you in Uzbekistan." A long finger tapped the side of the prestigious nose. "I've never seen anything like that. Minerva will have a fit when she hears about this." "Maybe we should start practicing now. The Headmaster said he lifted the Apperation wards for your quarters. The faster we figure this out, the faster he can put them back in place." There was a renewed intensity as the four moved into action. With Draco aiding Ron and Severus snarking at Harry in an attempt to educate, it took about five hours before they both had the knack of it down. By the end, the four were moving effortlessly together, words being shoved to the wayside as mental imagery became obviously more helpful. After mastering Apperation, they started to practice with their combined powers. They worked with a fluid quiet. It didn't matter how far they were from each other as they found out after Ron flooed to their dorm room. The mind contact didn't seem to fade with distance and Harry was beginning to think that it might not be as temporary as 'Mione had suggested. It wasn't until the brain herself knocked that they ceased. In easy agreement, Draco and Ron settled back into their previous position. Severus went to summon a house elf for a late dinner. With a contented tired sigh, Harry opened the door. Only to come eye to eye with a very flustered Hermione. She shoved a pile of books into his hands that without Seeker reflexes would have been a mess on the floor. A thrill of dark magic ran through him from the texts. "Blaise Zabini is one of the strangest people I have ever met!" She informed him, stalking over the fireplace and sinking into the chair Harry had been occupying earlier that day. "He wants to grill me on everything I know about Draco. I'm supposed to meet him in library tonight." "Sounds like Zabini." Draco smiled wanly. "He's a little intense, but he's a good friend. Better then Crabbe and Goyle. Not nearly as good at taking orders though." "We should bring him in." Ron said suddenly, brown eyes lingering over Draco's face. A moment later, Harry's mind was full of images of Blaise. They were Draco's memories and after a moment, some of Severus' recollections. "What? Why? I mean...." Hermione looked between Harry and Draco. "The books didn't say anything about this." "Huh? About what?" "You all just go silent and you get this look....like you can see things I can't...like you're a part of something greater....." Her eyes went dim, but a slight shake and she was back on track. "So why Blaise?" "Because you're going to need help leading the school against the Death Eaters." Harry pulled Severus' chair close to hers. "'Mione, I know it's a lot to ask, but I have to take care of Voldemort and the higher ups. I'm not sure exactly how yet, but I'm going to need Ron, Draco and Severus with me at the least. I'm sure the Headmaster will do a good job organizing the school and most likely he'll do that by putting them into hiding and sacrificing the teaching staff. I need you to start....well, a conspiracy." "Explain." Her eyes glittered and Harry knew she was hooked. "There are some older students, who already have an idea of what's coming and others who don't, but who will want to help arm the school once they do. They need to be rounded up and formed into a cohesive team before the attack. You can reach the Gryffindors and a lot of the Hufflepuffs from you're tutoring." He paused, sorting through the deluge of information. "That's were Zabini comes in. He's family does not sympathize with the Death Eater cause and he knows who in Slytherin will be willing to pitch in. The Ravenclaws respect him enough to listen. Between the two of you, I think Hogwart's will be aptly guarded. " She sank back into the chair, her eyes closed in thought. Harry could practically hear her reasoning. "I'll do it. You trust Zabini?" She directed the question towards Draco. "With my life." His mind was so full and sad, Harry wanted to forget 'Mione was in the room and do unspeakable things to pale flesh. Ron was closer and laced one of his hands with the young Slytherin. "And the lives of the people I care for." )*( Not for the first time, Hermione noted that the library was creepy at night. The lights flickered strange patterns over the walls and the books, which were so friendly in the daytime seemed laced with shadowy menace. Only one or two other dogged studiers were present, making the occasional cough or page turn only that much more startling. Zabini was in the same place, a new book in his lap that he was skimming at a fairly impressive rate. He fit into the nighttime library scene, at one with the shadows. He ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it further. The dark mop was almost a direct counterpoint to impeccable quality of his robes and manicured hands. It made him seem more human, more approachable. "What are you reading?" She asked, settling down into 'her' chair. "I was looking for the story that Draco told me." He set down the volume. Picked out in gold on the side was the flowery title: Correlation Between Muggle Myth and Truth. "I don't know how he knew it and I thought it was Muggle in origin, but now I'm not sure." "Maybe I can help?" She offered, hoping he would see it as the offering it was. "That's right, you're Muggle born." He said it without a trace of malice, only thoughtfulness as if he was studying a specimen. "The story is simple. I was remarking to him once that for a name like Draco, he was far more feline then lizard." "He is." Did Zabini know about Uncia? Or had he just noticed as nearly every girl and some boys in Hogwart's had that Draco moved with an unnatural liquid grace? "After that, he was quiet for a long time. Then he told me this story." He paused as if gauging her willingness to listen, so she leaned forward a little and nodded "Once there were a young boy and a young girl, who captured a dragon. They kept him locked in the basement, chained to the wall, but they didn't just leave him there to rot. They spent a lot of time with him, speaking to him and teaching him how to be polite. After many months, they unchained him from the wall. Using the chain like a leash, they started to lead him out of the house. As they walked, the dragon's scales fell off. They went down the street and into the town. The dragon gave them no trouble and more of his thick hide peeled away. By the time they had gotten back home, there were almost no scales left at all. Finally, they got back to the house and the boy took off the chains and told the dragon it could leave if it wanted to. But the dragon didn't want to go. It had been tamed. The last of the scales fell off and all that was left of the dragon was a house cat." "That's....I never heard that story before. I wonder how Draco found it." Blaise ran a hand through his hair again. "At the time he said he made it up. Maybe he did." "Maybe. When did he tell you all of that?" "Right before he left." Restless fingers drummed over the useless book.” What can you tell me?" "Well. It starts with a dragon." She smiled and was surprised to see a small answering grin. One of his front teeth was slightly crooked. Somehow that enabled her to tell the whole story, what she knew of it anyway. The telling was nearly an hour all told. He asked few questions and those that he did were relevant and drew facts from her that she had forgotten. By the time she reached her proposition for his involvement in the conspiracy, the lights in the library were flickering, signaling closing time. "So, the great Potter himself wants me to join in his secret military group." Blaise stood, collecting his books. "On the recommendation of the potions master and an almost Death Eater." "I know it doesn't sound that organized...the fact is we're in a lot of trouble. I don't know what Harry has up his sleeve, but students need to be warned and prepared, not locked away in some supposedly safe cubbyhole like the Headmaster is prepared to do." She got up as well, wincing a little at her stiff legs. "Will you join us?" "My dear girl," And here, finally was the Slytherin grin that curled the lips into a parody of a smile. "I can't think of anything else I would rather do. When do you wish to begin?" "Tonight. Can you get to the Gryffindor tower without being seen?" He nodded sharply. "If you're there in three hours, I can let you in." Unconsciously, she bit her bottom lip. "I want to seal the deal, but I've learned some unsettling things about the Pureblood version of hand shaking...." "I will honor a handshake, Ms. Granger. Draco is far more a stickler for etiquette then I am." His hand was dry and cool in hers, but a thrill of warmth scurried up her arm. Before she could say another word, he was gone, moving in the long confident strides of one who knew exactly where they were going and damn anyone who got in the way. Feeling decidedly dumpy, she walked back to her room, mind buzzing with plans and a fox's face drifting in every so often, a lingering smile and a crooked tooth. )*( By reluctant agreement, Harry and Ron returned to the dormitory that night. The overwhelming lust compulsion had mostly worn off, leaving them in possession of some facility of thought. They had to spread the word that they were deathly ill to keep any of the younger children from worrying. The older ones would figure out that something was afoot, but they were smart enough to keep their mouths shut. Draco stayed in the dungeon, pointing out that it was far safer for him to be in Severus' quarters then in the dorm as proven by the whole Neville situation. In all honesty, he was worried about the potions master. The man had been taking almost everything in stride, in his normal headstrong manner. If left to his own devices....he might begin to worry and that wasn't something they could afford to do right now. When Voldemort was dead, they could sit back and shake to pieces. And if they died instead then it would be a moot point. The all day practice had worn the four out and it wasn't long before Draco yawned in his chair and moved to the bedroom. Severus remained, leafing through a bonding text he'd found in his library. "Coming?" Dark eyes rose from the page and a pulse of vague sadness and resignation came his way. "I shouldn't think so. I'll be fine on the sofa." Oh, Severus, Draco thought to himself, who did this to you? Who made you too afraid to think you were worthy? "Please?" He pleaded, pouting in a way he had long since perfected. The older man said nothing, still focused warily on his charge. Draco racked his mind. "I know that the bond is sudden and it doesn't leave room for choice, but I want you to know that I wanted you for years. Since I was old enough to want." He opened his mind and let Severus feel the private affection he had been nursing as long as he could remember. The book closed with a snap. An answering feeling swept over him and not of the sweet childish crush, but a deep ache. Severus Snape was a man of strong emotions, no matter how cold his exterior seemed. He flew into rages and had the occasional profound depression and still Draco had never guessed that he could have this in him. It made perfect sense. "Come on." Draco held out his hand. "Let's get some sleep." With the greatest reluctance, one bony hand gripped his and Draco gently pulled him from the chair. Keeping his mind open, letting Severus sense his affection, joy and fatigue. In the bedroom, he kneeled down on the floor, pulled one booted foot onto his knee and reverently undid the laces and pulled off the clunky leather, peeled off a thin sock. He reached for other and for a moment, Severus unbalanced and one hand came unsteadily down on his shoulder. Draco leaned into the touch even as he undid the other boot, pulled off the companion sock. Slowly, from the bottom up, he undid the myriad of buttons. When he reached the top, he pushed the robe from thin shoulders and started down the next line of shirt buttons. He removed the plain silver cufflinks from the sleeves. Letting Severus deal with ridding himself of the shirt completely, Draco let his fingers dance over yet another button and at long last a zipper. Hooked fingers slid pants down endless legs, revealing conservative black boxers. Briefly, he rested his head against a thin thigh, pressing a light tingling kiss on to milky skin. With much more expediency then he had rid Severus of his kit, Draco peeled out of robes, shirt, pants, socks and shoes and crawled into the still expanded bed. He lifted up the covers, sliding between them. For a long moment, Severus just stared at him, seemingly more overwhelmed by his blonde charge alone then he had with a trio of students in his bed. The moment passed and he eased himself in beside Draco, commanding the lights to turn off. His voice was cracked and dry, breaking the fragile silence. Gently, Draco curved into him, wrapping pale arms around him, settling his head on his chest. If he'd left himself open to thought, he would have been surprised at the echoing. Holding the mended man to his side, Severus wondered if it was only Lucius who had taught Draco to be this careful by negative example or if there was another wound, another beast that he couldn't slay. "Good night, Draco." "Good night, Severus." //Night to you too, Harry, Ron.// //Night, Draco// They chorused mentally, breaking into a fatigued giggle. The Gryffindors were also settling in for the night. "Umm..." Ron stood in underwear, nervous and fidgety, in the middle of the bedroom. "Which bed?" "Draco's." Harry said decisively, pulling off his pants. "At least it will smell like him." Between the two of each they can admit that two is no longer a truly acceptable number. It will do when it has to, but even the dense hot comfort Ron offers is not enough without Draco's cooling smile and Severus' sneaking warmth. The need is built in now, strong and unavoidable, frightening with its intensity. Still, they are present and as they settled down to sleep, in the dungeon and the tower, they're dreams began to weave together, a vast bleeding work of potent images. )*( "Granger?" Hermione became suddenly aware of the book pressing against her face and thin hand on her shoulder. Her eyes slitted open and she became hyperaware of how dry her mouth had become. She rose sluggishly, rubbing grit from her eyes. "Have I been asleep long?" "Only a few minutes." He sank back into his own chair. "I think we have everything planned out." A pile of parchments with both her own tight handwriting and Blaise's lazy scrawl lay scattered on the her desk. A few were littered with explanatory drawings and a rough blueprint of the school had been summoned an hour before when they'd disagreed over the thickness of an outer wall. They had poured over plans, bickering and nit picking. It had been a change from Ron and Harry's placid nodding as she spouts forth flawless ideas. Since her leap of logic that saved all three of them from a herd of charging water buffalo after an unfortunate after hours Transfiguration experiment in fifth year, they'd pretty much reverted to quiet awe whenever she put forth something. Blaise didn't have that experience and she had an idea that even if he did, he wouldn't let her rest on her laurels. If she had been making this plan with Ron and Harry, she never would have thought to use their team to defend from inside Hogwart's and may have put a great many lives in danger. "What time is it?" The beauty of a single room was it's quiet, but it lacked windows. "A little before dawn, I think." "Oh." There was a long silence. I don't want him to leave, Hermione realized, he's got a nice presence. Much quieter then Ron or Harry and he has such an interesting mind. "One more thing, I think." "Mmmm?" "We need something to make people feel unified...not a uniform, there's no time for that, but all the texts I've read at home about psychology suggest that people work better when they have something physical to latch onto. Something out of the ordinary." She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. That toothy Slytherin smile curled over his lips again. "I have a perfect idea." )*( Rain nor sleet nor bond nor fatigue would keep Harry from rising at an ungodly hour when he wanted to fly alone. He'd learned after years of sneaking about the halls that the quietest time was just before dawn. Even Filch had to go to bed eventually and he knew for a fact that Snape was safely ensconced in bed, his end of the bond dark. He slipped away from Ron with a silent apology. Gazing out the window as he dressed, he added his usual Quiddatch robes, something he wouldn't normally do, but for the frost on the windowpanes. Late March mornings could play weather tricks and Harry had no desire to be deep frozen while he lazed on his broom. His heart no longer quickened as he hugged the walls. It was an old thrill that failed to rise to the occasion. Harry's life seemed pieced together by adrenaline rushes and he had learned to conserve it for when it was necessary. Being caught trying to sneak in a practice was no longer the heart stopping escapade it would have been in his second year. Taking to the air was still the same exhilaration. Nothing could dim the glorious feeling of the wind stirring over him like a living thing, carrying him upwards and encouraging his crazed flights. With no snitch to chase, his flights tended to be lazy circles with the occasional dart and loop that would make a bird dizzy. Today, as he built into stronger and more decisive path, he could feel his body swelling in response to his natural high. It had happened before, never during a game when his focus was needed, but in his personal practices with not even another human being to distract him... False dawn had crept over the chilly grounds and underneath his robes, he was sweating. Keeping a close eye on the ground, he cruised until he would appear only a shapeless figure to any one wandering onto the field or looking out from one of the many windows. He had not attempted this until he had long practiced it on the ground, but after years on a broom and lonely summer days locked in his bedroom, Harry was more then qualified for this particular aerial feat. With thighs hard as stone from long hours of hovering, he shifted his grip. Height from the ground was beneficial in this move, if he lost his grip he would have time to regain it or worse comes to worse, he would die of impact instead of embarrassment when they came across the body. A low simmering blush rose over his cheeks, not that that stopped him. Slowly to maintain his balance, he tucked his gloves into his pockets and unzippered his pants. In the warm embrace of his robes, he palmed his erection and slowly stroked himself to full hardness. Pure pleasure zinged around his nerves, making him aware of every pulse. With a whiff of fresh air lingering in his nose, Draco rose from his light slumber. Sometime in the night, he had shimmed farther down the bed, burrowing into warmer center. Which meant he'd woken with his head butting against Severus stomach, one of the older man's hands tangled in his hair. It was far too obscene for early morning. He extracted himself, wrinkling his nose at his own scent. A shower was definitely in order. Picking his way through the moist chill, Draco stumbled into the sparse bathroom he remembered from some late night meetings. The stone sucked warmth from his bare feet and he quickly yanked the shower on, hot as fire. Only a tiny cry parted from his lips as the water rained down, practically scalding him. The heat tingled through him making his already delicate skin hypersensitive. Severus' shampoo smelled nothing like the citrus he'd used when he was still a Malfoy or the sharp lye of the Gryffindor dormitory. He was almost certain it had rosemary in it and maybe lavender. It lathered nicely and the act twisted into a sensual pleasure. Carefully, he suppressed memories of his mother brushing his hair and enjoyed his own touch. Predictably, the intensity deepened. He leaned against the walls. Quick fingers ran down his sides, catching a nipple. Already his penis was rising from the light patch of pale pubic hair. He combed through the coarse hair before settling on his hardening flesh. The soft shimmer of the bathroom light cast a new glow on his body, making familiar ground into a maze of shadow. Ron opened his eyes to the first whiff of sunlight entering the Tower. It had crept sinister across the floor, rousing him from a deep, settling dream. Harry was gone and a quick tap on the bond let him know that his friend was in the air. Immediately, he blocked him out of his mind to enjoy the quiet. The dorm was empty and for the first time in a long while, Ron was blessedly alone. He rose with every intention of using up all the hot water when his eyes landed on the plush red armchair that usually occupied a space next to Harry's bed. Many long nights he had spent, talking and trading insults while the Boy-Who-Lived was settled in its welcoming arms. He settled in it before he even considered it. The cotton upholstery had been worn soft, especially on the arms where Harry had rubbed his hands nervously countless times a night. Sinking into its depths, still a little sleep clogged, he tried to ignore his morning arousal. It slowly dawned on him that there was no one about to inconveniently walk in or over hear him. No parade of siblings, no dorm mates, not even an inconsiderate parental figure. A grin more wicked then his Slytherin counterparts would have believed possible on his face, curved over his lips. Languidly, he pushed down his underwear and reveled in the feel of cotton against his ass. A careful spit into his palm was slick enough and with one hand behind his head, he arched into his own punishing pull, a mumbled moan stumbling across his lips. A brief moan crossed Severus' thin lips as he woke, suddenly cold in his own bed. A careful hand let him know that Draco had vacated the bed scant minutes before as the place where he had laid was still warm to the touch. A strain of the ears picked out the fall of water, reassuring him that the newest Snape hadn't gone traipsing off to do something that Severus would have to rescue him from. The bond had kept his dreams lively and strange through the night, a melting, shifting picture of pain and pleasure. He stretched liberally out on the bed, listening with a grunt of displeasure as he bones cracked and shifted. Old. Much older then the fragile man ensconced in his shower and the two in the dormitory.... He reached through the bond and found only one Gryffindor safe in his dorm. The full image of exactly what Ron was doing flooded through his mind shocking him fully awake. Reaching farther, searching for the missing Potter, he found the audacious brat on his broom of all places engaged in the same activates as his roommate. With a sense of dread, he opened himself to Draco. The blonde made a pretty picture and his proximity didn't help. The three teenagers seemed unaware of his mental eavesdropping, continuing their business as if unaffected from the bond though Severus guessed it was fully the compulsions fault. It had allowed him as the base to tap into the others when they were too occupied to notice. And now the images could not be shut out. With a sigh that would have put a martyr to shame, he reached for the lotion he had prepared himself after a long dry spell. Masturbation had always seemed a shady second best to him, but he had ample inspiration at mental fingertips. Shoving what remained of his clothing after Draco's thorough undressing the night before, he lightly coated his hand with the light stuff. His fingers were stiff from a night spent cupping Draco's skull, but they were up to the task, circling his stiffening dick with interested intensity. Harry's eyes nearly crossed as he felt Severus brush across the link. Without pause in his own activates, he opened himself to the older man's touch, riveted by the slow sensuality of his movements. His own pace slowed considerably to match. The wind ruffling already wild hair and the scent of dawn lingering in his nostrils, Harry felt the low spiral of tension and pleasure building in his stomach. The connection sent a tingle through Ron and he immediately surrendered to it. The quiet had become overwhelming and the welcoming comfort of his bond-mates only enhanced the experience. The rhythm was pleasing and he settled into it, steady pulsing strokes that seemed to start in his spine and work there way up. His head fell to the side and his eyelids flickered shut. Water pelted down over his skin as Draco threw open the last remains of control and pulled the bond closed with a palpable power snap. In an instant it became much more intense, drawing them all into a tangle of images and sensations. Oliver Wood in the changing room, cotton, cool stone under his arm, the stiffness in his fingers, wind, Zabini's exposed throat, Harry half-naked in the grass, the rising dawn, heat against heat, tangle of limbs, shampoo, a blonde center-fold witch, a nipple tweak and just fingers against flesh... They drew each other to the edge and with a collective sharp breath, they plunged. Harry with one hand clinging to his broom, wrestling it against his own sharp movements; Draco braced against the wall, one lingering finger jerking the remains of sensation from his spent cock; Ron collapsing into an upholstered embrace, catching most his semen in hand and missing a few drops; Severus with one full body shudder that left him limp against the sheets and pleasantly sleepy. In the stillness afterwards, they breathed in tandem, trying to regain their senses. Draco was the first to come to enough to be coherent and he broke the silence with a tone that could only be awe. //On a broom?!// The blush translated through the link as fuzzy pink. )*( Ginny could feel her heart in her mouth as she crept out of bed and picked her way around the dorm on cat feet. Ever since receiving Hermione's note at breakfast, she'd been terribly nervous. Something was going to happen, something ugly and evil. The note hadn't been terribly descriptive, only a location, a time and a password and the strict admonishment that she tell only those that she trusted completely. That was why there was no one with her. Ginny's Hogwart's experience had been a rocky one and she found herself combating the Weasley stereotype. She was not a boisterous friendly boy with big hands and flashing smile. She was a retiring girl in answer to her brothers' noise and continuous clatter. Molly had tried to train to be a fierce strong woman, she'd much rather sit with her romance novels and cook. Hermione had given up on her after fifth year and the other girls found it difficult to draw her out of her shell. It wasn't shyness, but her own careful defense against those who would try to mold her. She knew what she wanted and her own Gryffindor way, she wasn't going to let anyone take it from her. Ginny had simple goals. She wanted to become an aide at St. Mungo's, find a quiet, gentle man and have a child. Not a whole litter, but a single healthy baby. She didn't care about gender or looks, she just wanted a child. She was sick of hearing every one telling her she could do better then that. She knew she was a powerful witch with talent and finesse. Her grades were always good, but she had no desire to be any great and powerful witch with a mound of responsibility and premature age. She had seen what power had done to Harry, the permanent sadness that lingered in the very air around him, the hunch of his shoulders at the table and the headaches that pressed him against hallway walls in an effort to stay upright. Not for her the worry lines around Ron's eyes as he slung a protective arm around his best friend or the unkempt cloud of Hermione's hair and she poured into another research project to keep Voldemort that much longer. Ginny wanted a life where the biggest problem was if they should go on vacation or redecorate the living room with her Christmas bonus. Still, she knew better then to avoid the truth of the situation and in the end, she was dedicated to Ron and his friends. If they needed her help then she would be there, even if it made her ill. Her fingers found the catch of the hidden door in one long dark hall. "Darkness falling." She whispered and tumbled backwards into a harshly lit classroom. "Ginny. Did you bring anyone?" Hermione was at her arm, helping her up. "Could you roll up your sleeves?" "No one." She obliged. "How are can you be sure there aren't any glamorous?" "We affixed anti-disguise spells to the doorway. It's the best we can do." Regaining her senses, Ginny eyes fell on the lean form of a boy she had seen only in the hallways and in the Great Hall. His name eluded her. Immediately, she picked up a subtle change in both. "Why braids?" Both of the obvious leaders had tight braids, changing their normally wild, distracted appearances into something sleeker and more refined. They both had a thick purple ribbon weaved along side the middle strand. Hermione smiled approvingly. "This is the uniform of the First Defense." She gestured to the open room. A few chairs were set up, mismatched and obviously taken from places where they wouldn't be noticed.” You’re the first person to arrive and pass security clearance. Have a seat." As the minutes passed, a steady trickle of fifth, sixth and seventh year students from every house arrived. None of them failed the security checks and before long, it became apparent that there weren't enough chairs. Students took to sitting on the floor or leaning against the wall. By the time it was obvious that no more would be arriving, the room was packed and Hermione looked pleasantly surprised. Her _expression was instantly schooled again as she and Blaise stood in the front of the room. "Your attention please." Hermione cleared her voice and the room gradually failed silent. "For those of you who don't know, I'm Hermione Granger." "And I'm Blaise Zabini." "We are the leaders of the First Defense of Hogwart's." She paused letting that sink in. "It has come to our attention through channels we cannot revel to you that Hogwart's will be the prime target of a massive Death Eater attack in the next few days. The Ministry is refusing aid and our allies will not be summoned in time. The Headmaster is making contingency plans to keep the children safe at the sacrifice of the staff and those few adults who do manage to make it in time. This may include your own parents and relatives." "We have chosen not to let them stand alone." Zabini picked up smoothly. "We are old enough to fight and we are old enough to pick up the mantle. Before we even begin to explain even the ground rules, we want to make it clear that this will be a fighting unit. We will be involved in a very dangerous situation. People are going to die." "If you don't want to be involved. Say so now. No one will judge you. It is a hard decision. If the situation was different..." Hermione trailed off. "But it isn't. Please make a decision if you are going to quit. There will be one other opportunity at the end of tonight’s meeting. Those who decide to leave will be memory wiped for safety reasons. After this meeting, you are committed. You will be fighting for your life and the lives of others. Who wants out now?" The room stayed very quiet. Ginny glanced around and saw a lot of drawn faces, a few whispers floated around. No one left. "Now for the rules. First and foremost, when we are together as First Defense, there are no house loyalties. We don't have time for in fighting. We are all in the same danger and we need to be a team. If you have a problem with that, then you shouldn't be here." Fierce eyes swept the room. "Second." Hermione stood close to his side. "Blaise and I are in charge. No argument, no contention. Again, if we had time we could do this the democratic way, but we don't. You will listen and obey orders. If at any point, we assign a leadership position to someone else, you will follow their orders. If you feel that's going to be a problem, you're free to leave at the end of the meeting." "Third, you do not reveal any information about the First Defense to any one. You do not discuss it outside of the meetings. You do not invite in anyone else after tonight. Everyone who chooses to stay after tonight will be receiving one of these." Blaise whipped out a length of the same purple ribbon that was braided into Hermione and his own hair. "Affix it under your clothing. When a time and place have been chosen for the meeting, the band will tighten and the information will be printed on it." "Under no circumstance go to a teacher. They will disband us. That's it for the rules." "Any questions?" It was eerily silent. "Good. Now who here knows how to use Muggle weapons?" By the end of the meeting, they'd already set up three rough groups. Only two people chose to leave and they were memory wiped. The rest received the ribbons. They filed out quiet, but boisterous. When the room was finally emptied, Hermione sagged against the desk. Ginny lingered for a moment, her heart beating anxiously in her chest. "Hermione?" "Oh, Ginny. What is it?" "I...." She sighed gently. "There's a Hufflepuff, Ian Etienne...He's a spy for Voldemort." "What? Ginny, how could possibly know that?" Bright eyes fixed on her immediately, Blaise watched her under dark lashes. "I...promise you won't tell anyone?" "Ginny! What is it? Are you..." "No! No....but ever since first year....I get hunches.... Nothing like Harry's headaches" "And Ian?" Blaise trained eyes on her. They both seemed to be taking her entirely seriously. Ginny relaxed a little. "He's always made feel weird. He wasn't here tonight, but if one of his friends tell him, anything..." "We'll take care of it." Blaise assured her. "Thank you." Hermione hesitated and suddenly Ginny found herself in a tight hug. "I'm so sorry." She whispered into her ear. When she let go there didn't seem anything more to say. As she left, it occurred to her that she had set herself on a new path and there was no going back. )*( Severus wasn't used to a crowd in his own apartments. Over the years, he had a trickle of guests, no more then one or two at a time. Now it seemed he was overrun. With Harry and Draco at his desk pouring over dark arts, Ron engaging him in a game of chess by the fire and Zabini and Granger scheming on the floor, their plans strewed around them, it seemed like he was running an after school program for wayward teens. Their numbered days were rapidly dwindling. The Granger-Zabini portion of the group was moving at rapid clip as the First Defense trained and schemed in protected rooms in the bowels of the castle. If Albus knew of it, the old wizard said nothing and none of the students were caught as they snuck out of their dorms at ungodly hours. Harry and Draco had come up with a few plans and most of their time was spent in memorization. Curiously, as the two quietly recited their spells, Severus could feel echoes of them in his memory as if the learning of it went straight into their collective mind. It should have felt strange to suddenly have this additional information with its bizarre origins, but instead it was reassuring. He had no doubt that if left to its own devices the bond would become like another arm or leg, wholly natural and unassuming. As soon as Voldemort was taken care of, Severus had every intention of finding a way to break the bond, before it got that comfortable. He did not allow that thought to escape the tight mental shields he had erected the past few days, there was no need for it to become public knowledge. The bond was as alive as anything magical could be and would go out of its way to survive. "Check." He was informed. Ron grinned at him. The boy was completely insufferable. Chess of all things he excelled at. Him with his set of pieces and Potter with his broom they were little Gryffindor boys with their toys. Which didn't much recommend him for sleeping with both of them and having an almost irrepressible desire to defend them from their own stupidity and the forces that threatened on the horizon. //That's not very charitable, Severus.// Silver eyes glittered from where Draco was bent over a text. //We're none of us ready to face this and it's not an issue of age. Even Dumbledore is afraid and he's the oldest wizard I know.// "Hmm." Harry's soft mummer refocused the dragon. "This whole section of spells is in Italian. And I don't think it's very good Italian." "The works of Jorge Dupont. He was a great spell maker, but paranoid." Unconsciously slipping into his teaching mode, Severus continued as he moved to defend his king. "He believed his students were after his work, so he used a translation spell to disguise his notes. The spell was shoddy and most of his works were set in grammatically incorrect Italian. They are some of the darkest works on three continents, but they read like a first years composition. Let that be a lesson in taking care, lest you be remembered as an idiot savant." "Hmm." The murmur rolled again. "This stuff is pretty gruesome." "It's the Dark Arts. What do you want? Monochrome Shimmer spells?" "No...but Merlin. This Dupont guy was pretty sick. This one turns the victim inside out. They're still alive, but they die slowly of exposure." He flipped a few pages. "And this one turns the body into a living piece of furniture. " Another flip. "Huh. Draco...pass me that bookmark?" A few more minutes and Severus was truly backed into a corner on the board and Harry had started scribbling notes ferociously. "That's it." Blaise set down his quill and rolled to his feet. "I cannot concentrate on this another minute or Potter might as well turn me into an ottoman." "It is late." Hermione gathered up the scattered parchments. "Harry? Ron? Are you going back up the Tower?" Ron was on his feet, leaning over the chessboard to peck a surprised Severus on the cheek. "Not yet." Harry said airily. "I need to finish this." "Can't you take it up to the dorms? You don't want McGonagall finding you down here." "She won't. Night." The three left, leaving a quiet vacuum. Draco, sensing that Harry was onto something that he couldn't help with, ventured over to Severus and set the board up again. Draco wasn't nearly as sharp an opponent, but he had the added advantage of being familiar with Severus' game. They played for an hour or so, before Draco was roundly defeated. Harry scribbled on. They left him to his work, falling into an easy sleep. As soon as they'd gone, Harry dropped his quill and laid his head down the desk. His head felt like it was about to explode. Thank Merlin, he had found the knack for mental shields among the debris of Severus memory and erected them just in time. The moment he had touched upon this particular spell, a rush of pain had nearly paralyzed him. He knew it was important then. Something in Voldemort's unconscious, the part that flowed through Harry and affected the both of them, had a terrible fear of the spell and what it represented. Every time he focused on the words, his mind began to quiver and jagged edges of pain moved through his skull. Quietly, he paused every few moments and too his relief no one noticed. If he were to go back to the dorms, Ron would pick up on it right away, shields or no shields. The two Slytherins did not know him well enough yet to see the signs. Teeth gritted, Harry Potter settled into to do what he did best. Survive. )*( The only thought in Ginny's head as she was forced awake was sheer terror. Her dreams had been violent and strange, rousing her with their viciousness. Without question she followed the instinct that had preserved her during many of Fred and George's pranks. She gathered her dressing gown about her and left the dorm on the same quiet feet she'd been using for days. Her sixth sense for Voldemort's brand of darkness had come in handy the past few days and it had come to forewarn them one last time. She crept, silent up the stairs, seeking the correct entry. The light was on under Hermione's door, despite the late hour and she wasn't surprised to find both of her leaders in the tiny prefect room. As their week ultimatum dwindled from them, the two had become almost inseparable, even now when there were no more plans to make and only waiting, they were comfortable only in the other's presence. Hermione had let it slip that they slept in shifts, watching each other in the night. Now, they were both awake. Blaise was ensconced in the wooden chair, tipped back against the desk while Hermione was stomach down on the bed, her legs in a tangled in the air behind her. "You really think that we can use the micholen factor to alter birth defects?" "I'd be surprised if we couldn't." Blaise replied coolly, rocking the chair a little. For a moment, she said nothing, enjoying the moment. They were oddly happy, this pair of minds as they balanced the weight of thirty some students lives in their hands. Maybe Harry was onto something when he asked Hermione to lead. She had grown up the past week, altered. Her edges had hardened and her random hyper concentration had become keenly focus. "Hermione?" "Ginny!" She looked almost guilty as she jumped from the bed. "What is it?" "They're moving." Already, Hermione has lost her quizzical look and turned back to business face, Blaise's chair falls straight. "They'll be surrounding Hogwart's by dawn." "Are you absolutely sure?" "My dreams were very clear...I can feel them on my skin. Like slime that I can't wash off." She shivered and Hermione drew her deeper into the room. “I think they’ve torn down the wards.” "I'll send the message out, you'd better tell Harry that it's time to move." Blaise immediately moved into action, Hermione paused to spell her hair into a braid and did her partner as he chanted the summoning spell. "Ginny, get changed and ready for battle." Hermione left, walking at a clip that would have left Ginny far behind if she was so inclined to follow. She wound through halls, clinging to the walls and tried not to think to hard. The bonded quartet had stayed in the dungeon tonight with the idea that the attack would occur either the upcoming day or the next. Professor Snape's door swung open at her touch, the wards keyed to it. "Ms. Granger, come to tell us what we already know?" The four were dressed and in various states of preparedness. "Much thanks for your concern, but Harry's scar alerted us ahead of time." "The wards are down or did you know that as well?” No answer and Hermione let the refreshing silence of her teacher make her a little smug. “Good luck." She moved to fire place. "Harry? Ron?" They moved to her in unison in a last hard hug. It lasted only a moment, impressing the feel of them into her. The ribbon in her hair twitched and she moved immediately to floo out. Greedy, she allowed herself one last look at them: Harry's head ducked close to Draco's and Ron in quiet conference with Snape and then she was gone. )*( In a ripple, Harry shifted into his Draco form as the true Uncia-Snape moved to leopard, rubbing up to Ron the moment the red head shifted into his formidable second flesh. They all turned expectantly to Severus, who paused for a long moment. None of them had seen his form before and he seemed reluctant to shift. A short cut of irritation blasted past them. Stiffly, he seemed to wink out of existence before a mess and tangle of black feathers fluttered through the air and an angry raven landed with a thump on “Draco’s” shoulder. The weight of the rumpled black bird on his shoulder and the feel of two giant cats against him recalled the vision so firmly that the moment intensified a hundred fold. //Show us the place.// The image was firm, down to the last ash tree and the long distance view of Malfoy Manor in all its austere glory. The dungeon was empty within moments. They landed with a soft thud on loose dirt near the lush greenery of the back forty. There was dirt packed under their feet in a stiff prim trail. This was where Lucius indulged himself in one of his few pleasures, one he didn’t think Draco knew about and even if he did, he believed his son dead. The hole in the ward was only large enough to accommodate a rider on a tall horse and none of the protective spells would be looking for an animal or a Malfoy heir. Once they were far enough from the protective bubble, they shifted back. //We’re going to just walk up the manor?// Ron looked skeptical. //We’ll be stopped.// //By who?// Harry began walking until the other’s were forced to quicken their pace to catch up. //Everyone but his generals is attacking Hogwart’s. They can’t afford a contingency guard.// A soft whimper caught their attention and four wands were at attention faster then the eye could follow. //After the next line of hedges.// Even in mind-speak, Draco whispered as they edged towards the noise. The hedges moved gently apart. Yellow eyes regarded them pitifully from the darkness of the hedge. With low light from wands a wolf was revealed, its silver-gray coat matted with blood. A thick collar around its neck had worn off the fur and rubbed the flesh raw beneath. “Remus?” The shaggy head dipped into a nod. “How is this possible? The full moon was last week.” His fingers fell to the heavy collar. He hissed. “Silver.” “No…” Ron kneeled next to wolf-Remus and examined the collar. The clasp was rusted shut, but a quick charm cracked it open. It fell to the ground with a thump. The wolf whined again, then let out a long shuttering breath as the painful process from wolf back to man began. Remus Lupin was huddled on the ground, his body covered in bruises and scraps. His throat looked like raw meat. “Harry….” His voice was a scratchy whisper. “I’m here, Remus.” Quickly, he shed his robe covering Remus’ battered body with it. He wore only short sleeves and oversized jeans beneath, the early morning chill worked into his bones. “We can not stay here.” Severus muttered, sounding a little reluctant. “Can you walk?” Harry asked. When Remus nodded, Harry reached into the folds of his robe and pulled out a black plastic button. “Did you see where we arrived?” Another nod. “Leave through there. Say ‘Prongs’ and the portkey will take you to wherever Sirius is. I hope it’s safer then here.” Harry helped the shivering man to his feet and at the last moment, Remus leaned forward and licked the younger man’s cheek. With a stern glance at Severus, he launched forward, pausing only for breath. When he was out of sight and gone, Harry turned resolutely onward. Anger flowed from him, clear and crisp, quickening their steps. The mansion reared ahead of them. Unbidden, Draco’s memories came to them of many home comings when the times were not so ugly and there had been some warmth left underneath the alabaster columns. Fear gradually overwhelmed the pleasant moments and only his desire to complete what they had set out to do kept him from running. A steadying hand landed on his shoulder and he was pitifully grateful for the small comfort. Ron squeezed once, before letting go and turning his focus back to their task. )*( “Minerva, gather the children.” The call came in the darkest hour before dawn. She had been expecting it for months now and sprang into action immediately. The children were hustled out of bed, gathered up and herded in their sleepwear into the dungeons. The Slytherins were waiting, stalking out the best territory and securing their rooms as the rest of the school flew down to refuge. It soon became apparent that over two dozen sixth and seventh year students were missing and two searches did not produce them. Just when she had become absolutely frantic, a fourth year Slytherin that she recognized as Blaire Zabini solemnly handed her a parchment. It was wrapped in a purple ribbon. Professor McGonagall, By now it has come to your attention that thirty-two students are missing from the round up. Ten Gryffindors, eleven Slytherins, three Hufflepuffs and seven Ravenclaws are not present. They are accounted by name on the back. Do not waste precious time looking for us. Defend the younger students and please keep an eye out for Erin Misonta of Ravenclaw, Gerta Lowell and Misma Trinta of Gryffindor, Ian Etienne of Hufflepuff and Serena Grit in Slytherin. They are marked Death Eaters. If we should perish, it will be in defense of our home. May the Powers that Be watch over us all, The First Defense of Hogwart’s School of Witchcraft and Wizardry It was a resigned Head of Gryffindor, who folded the parchment into a square and thrust it into the folds of her robes. So her children had made their own decisions and they had drawn the battle lines. It filled her at once with a contrasting pride and fear for children who had grown up far too fast. )*( In the cool pre-dawn, the students who made up the First Defense prepared for battle. They moved without out light, avoiding being seen by the approaching war band. They readied themselves in turrets and battlements, along the rooftops and in tiny slotted windows. Hogwart’s may be a school, but it was built like any other castle. A perfect fortress. From two windows above the main entrance, Hermione and Blaise communicated with their troops across ribbons. When all was prepared, there was nothing to do but wait for the attack. The leaders of the battalion stood in uneasy silence. Hermione shivered in the cool of the first dawn, the moist air seeping through her robes. A warm arm wrapped around her pulling her close. Surprised, she turned her face up to Blaise, but he was staring out onto the warming horizon, his arm convulsing a little around her. They stood, shivering lightly, huddled together until the first Death Eater was spotted on the horizon. From there on in it was a blur. She would never remember giving the initial commands that sent volleys of arrows at the invading force as they Apperated across the moat, coming clean against the fortress of the school. She would remember how the arrows looked thick in the air, though she knew there were only six students so armed. They flew fast and furious until the Death Eaters could put up shields. When the arrows began to bounce off the survivors, Blaise gave the command to the rooftops where giant cauldrons of boiling oil and tar had been filled and heated over the past few hours. The black pots were levitated directly overhead and splashed down, burning the troops and slicking the ground making it difficult for the Dementors to advance. As the first wave drew to a close, the Death Eaters were thinned, but the Dementors proved whole. They began to claw at the doors and the stone, threatening to tear it down with their limbs. Death Eaters began chanting unlocking spells of every variety while three First Defense members held the main doors firmly closed with furniture and summoned objects. It had been Hermione’s idea to use muggle things to keep the school safe. The Death Eater’s would have no defense against the products of a culture they snubbed.. The Dementors scrabbled up the walls, stopped only by the First Defense members raining rocks and transfigured objects down onto them from the windows. They fell to the ground, only to rise again and climb. The chanting of the Death Eaters grew louder. Hermione quietly whispered commands to Harry to hurry up as she slammed her textbook down on the hands of a Dementor who came to close. )*( No one had expected the manor to be almost completely deserted. Voldemort in his arrogance had surrounded himself with few guards, some weak buffoons easily dispensed of. Hogwart’s had few allies because of Fudge’s silent treachery, so Voldemort had none because of his own paranoia. No beast came to his call, they would smell his madness and flee. Only the Dementors would follow him with his manipulating magics. These are what Harry intended to take from him. //They’ll be in the Dining Room. // Draco sent, decisive. Silent, Severus agreed. //It’s the grandest room. They’re probably feasting. // Following Draco through the warren of rooms was harder work then one would suspect. Only their hold in his mind kept them from loosing the lithe figure as he went from room to room, ducking through unseen doorways and passages. His eyes were keen and his whole body was bursting with feline grace. If he’d been his Animagi form, his tail would be thrashing. The rooms bled past in a series of over decoration and flickering shadows. The silence was unnerving, but they dared not break it. Eventually they reached the vaunted doors that identified the Grand Dining Hall. They were inlaid with gold and the Malfoy family crest was inlaid with shimmering paints. //Ready? // Harry shot off. A general agreement and he pushed the doors wide open, wand at the ready. //Bloody fucking hell. // The grand table was set and all the candles were lit. The long table could have easily sat at least two hundred people and had many times over the years. What met their eyes now was a very different dinner party then the formal events of Draco’s youth. Most of the seats were empty, but for the Head of the table farthest from the doors and about ten seats on either side of it. Voldemort, in his hunched gnarled body, sat at the Head of the table worrying at a bone with his teeth, ripping dripping meat strips from it like a common animal. To his right was Lucius, eating far more daintily and a faint sneer of disgust at his Lord’s table manners. To his left was McNair, who was shoveling food into his mouth as if there was nothing in the world to be concerned about. Every one else was unmistakably dead. Twenty of the top Death Eater’s had been slaughtered in cold blood and propped into chairs. Some still bled sluggishly from their wounds while others were showing signs of decay. Each of the corpses had a meal placed in front of them and every so often, Voldemort would wave a hand and a body would be momentarily animate enough to pick up a fork or a knife. “Mr. Potter.” Drawled the Dark Lord. “What a pleasant surprise. Why don’t you pull up a chair and break bread with us?” A thin wail rose from behind Harry, preventing him from responding. “Mother….” Sure enough, one of the last propped bodies was the significantly decayed carcass of Narssissa Malfoy. The original wound at her throat was blackened and her wedding ring complete with finger was on her plate. It was all Harry could do to keep from vomiting. It was necessary to ignore it all for now. “I think you will understand why I would decline such an invitation.” Harry continued steadily, ignoring the insistent sadness and anger breaking on his mind from his companions. “I have come on rather official business.” “I hate mixing business with food. Oh, Severus! Some how I knew you would come and look, Lucius! You’re delightful offspring is not lost at all. I had had such high hopes for the boy.” Voldemort prattled on, but Lucius’ whole focus was on them now. The intense unblinking star of a serpent. “Let me kill them, please, my lord.” He asked through gritted teeth. “It won’t take long.” “If you must. You and McNair. Only fair, I suppose. Only do try and keep blood off the tablecloth. It is one of my favorites.” The elder Malfoy rose and they could all feel the dark power fairly dripping off of him as he walked calmly towards them. It was from Lucius that Draco had inherited all of his feline grace with careful studied differences. Draco walked with pride and smugness. Lucius walked with all the calculation of the human predator. His eyes glinted in the flickering light and a snarl crossed his face. “So you live yet, my beautiful boy, did you come back father?” Draco said nothing, trembling under the weight of his father’s stare. “No? Too bad, we did have such fun together.” Elegant fingers reached under the silk of his shirt and he pulled forth a necklace. Strung on it like a charm was a jewel in the shape of an eye. No gem, but an actual eye, preserved. Draco’s eye. “I see you’ve found a shoddy replacement. Good. I so wanted to keep a piece of you forever close.” “You sick bastard.” Ron spat. Only Severus sudden tight grip on his shoulder kept the red head from attacking. “And Severus, you maintain you have faith enough in your treachery to follow children into the lion’s den. You should have been a Gryffindor, my old friend.” “There is no need to fling insults.” Severus returned stiffly. Already, he was shifting his mind, bolstering Ron and riling Draco from his stunned silence. They in turn were channeling into Harry until the raven-haired boy seemed to crackle with power. “Potter. I have tried to warn you that your end would be ugly and yet here you are.” With a wave of disgust, Lucius produced his wand. “Moribidus!” “Tetyun Protectus!” The shield bounced the paralyzing hex, sending it back at Lucius before the older man knew what was happening. He landed with a thud against the floor, eyes blinking madly. McNair attacked the moment he saw Lucius fail, coming from the side. He threw the counter spell to the shields, but just as quickly Harry replaced them with an absorbant ward. He pointed his wand at the apoplectic man and turned him to stone. “That was not sporting, Mr. Potter. You’re using dark magic.” Voldemort admonished. He rose from his place and the candles began to flicker. No matter how insane Voldemort might be, there was no denying his power. It was how he had risen to the top, using brute strength to bust down those who would defy him. “You have been known to be less then fair yourself. Didn’t anyone ever tell you that you only get one life?” //I’m going to need everything in a few seconds.// He warned across the link. //Get ready.// “I will be immortal. After your death there will be no one to stop me. Do you think you’re puny bond so powerful? All it does is drain you, they will lean on your power like a crutch and drain you dry…or they would have. It’ll all be moot as I plan on killing you.” One bony hand raised and a long slim wand fitted into the soft palm. “Av-“ “De carne ad anima,” Harry’s voice rang out and the Dark Lord’s grip seemed to fail, his wand slipping to the ground, “lascila fondersi.” His wand grew hot in his hands, so he dropped it, ignoring the flames. Voldemort’s crazed eyes wandered over his face in horror as he skin started to droop and peel in chunks. “Leghi lo spirito all’osso ed allo,” Pain started to shoot through Harry’s mind, his hands quavered, bruising. He pressed on, “zucchino grezzi.” The spell began to take hold with a vengeance, whole chunks of flesh dropped in messy red splashes to the floor. Bone gleamed from inside it’s casing, hair flowed to the floor in rivers. Voldemort’s mouth opened to scream and his tongue fell to the floor. Harry wanted to cease as the pressure in his mind built, but he pressed on held up by his trinity. His fingers were bleeding now. “Twine l’anima nella profundita deall struttura umana.” The rest of Voldemort fell away until only a wet white skeleton remained, still standing and twitching. The binding of spirit to flesh was the hardest part and Harry had to force it out between the clenching muscles of his jaw, trying to ignore his own blood. “Deformi tutta l’amimenazione nel bianco.” The skeleton shivered and twisted in on itself, twining bone to bone until the skull was crushed between long shanks. In the end, all that remained was a grooved and lined staff, intact hands reached up in supplication at the top, bending as if guarding something precious. It hung, suspended from a tangible light, moving gently. “It….it isn’t finished, is it?” Ron stuttered, his mind too overtaxed to process all that had happened. “No. It needs a guider and a power source. “ Green eyes glazed over and he spoke dully, fitfully aware of his bleeding hands. “ I need a heart.” Three pairs of eyes fell on the still paralyzed body of Lucius Malfoy. At once, Severus moved forward, at least to spare them this last horrifying breech, but Ron pushed him aside, stony faced with resolve. “I made a promise.” Lifting the spell from Harry’s memory, he cracked open the prone man’s chest. His finger’s found the beating heart and closed around it. After several deep breaths, he ripped it brutally from the chest cavity, nearly chocking on spurting blood as he did so. With a solemn air, he handed it to Harry, before falling to the floor in a dead faint. “Della mia parola,” The chant began again, “”giri questo cuore verso la pietra vermiglia. By my word, turn this heart to ruby stone.” The organ hardened in his hand, taking on a glassy sheen. With a delicacy, boarding on reverence, he seated the stone in the staff’s hand. “You need a guide.” Stepping over Ron’s body, Draco reached over his father’s body and broke the fetish necklace from the dead man. He handed over the chain with its gruesome jewel, before collapsing to his knees next Ron. Gingerly, Harry plucked the eye from the chain and maneuvered it into the hollow between the wrist bones. Once it was set properly in place, the staff fell into his hands loosing its eerie glow, but none of its potency. Voldemort’s spirit and power were trapped forever to the staff. The monumental task he had under taken before he could speak a full sentence was almost complete. All that remained was saving Hogwart’s. Then he could rest…maybe for eternity. “Sev? Can you get the two of them up?” Harry nudged the pale potion’s master. “It’s time to go.” )*( “Shit!” Hermione swore, stabbing down at an encroaching Dementor with a transfigured sword. Sweat ran down her face and her breath came in ragged pants. Beside her Blaise was casting out his Patronus while throwing paralyzing spells at another who had made it inside. They were coming harder and faster now, the remaining Death Eaters had accessed the situation and were now waiting far out of reach of any defensive spells. They were obviously going to wait until the Dementors killed off the bulk of the irritating students, before coming in for the kill. At the rate they were going it wouldn’t be long. Already the first student had fallen, having been Kissed in an ambush. As she successfully beat the Death Eater back, Blaise threw his over the side of the wall. Hermione paused to scan the horizon. It was dawn now, cool light spilling over the grass and lighting the walls. A vague popping noise had her turning on the balls of her feet, wand pointed, a hex on her lips. All they needed was for the Death Eater’s to start Apperating. If they were clever they would have begun before. The sight that met her eyes stunned her into silence. Harry’s hands were bleeding, the skin of the fingers raggedly hanging off in strips, between them he cradled a strange staff. At his sides Ron and Draco were looking less then steady on her feet and the red head was spattered from head to toe in drying blood. They were propped up by a bony hand on their shoulders, Snape, paler then ever, supported them. “Hermione. Blaise.” Harry acknowledged. He walked to the window and looked down on the chaos below. With one deep shuddering intake of breath, he seemed to suck all the power out of all of them. “Harry?” She asked, weakly, but he was facing the field of battle the staff poised in front of him. The ruby shone with an intense light. “Go back.” He said softly. Every Dementor paused. “Go back to where you came from. Return to the earth.” They fell from the walls or collapsed where they were fighting. Where they fell, they became dust and dirt, their bodies gone without a trace. From their safe distance, the Death Eaters watched in astonishment. A few of the smartest began to run or gather themselves to Apperate. Harry’s gaze fell to them. “Stay where you are.” His voice was not above a whisper, but every one of them froze in their place. “Gadrus Purpilus.” From the ground itself rose a cage made of roots, embracing all the frozen Death Eaters. “Oh!” She was familiar with that spell. It was used to catch cockroaches. The light of the staff faded away. Harry set it to the ground, leaning on it heavily. “Is it over now?” He asked, voice quavering. “Yes.” She said gently. “You can rest now.” It was exactly the right thing to say. Harry smiled at her, before sinking gently to the floor and into unconsciousness. She didn’t have to turn to know that the other three had followed suit. “We did it.” Blaise muttered. “I can’t fucking believe it. We actually did it.” The enormity of it would not sink in for another few hours, but the temporary elation went up through the ranks as screams of victory rang through the towers. “Nike.” She whispered. “Marathon ran through the streets at the end of battle screaming victory: Nike.” “Nike.” Her Slytherin counterpart agreed. “Madame Pomfrey has been called, the Infirmary is ready as it will be to receive the causalities. We have to gather the wounded and carry them.” With a sigh, she knew that it was not yet over. The clean up of a three-hour battle would last for days, possibly weeks. And then there was the explaining they would have to do….but. But Nike. It was worth it. They had survived. )*( Ginny raised her head gingerly from the pillow. The last few times she had attempted to, shooting pain had stopped her. She felt much better now and managed to inch farther up the bed until she was sitting up. It was night and a few days must have passed since she was last awake as the Infirmary was much less packed. She had taken a hard blow to the head in avoiding a persistent Dementor. Sinking into unconsciousness had actually saved her, effectively cutting her off from the Dementor’s awareness. Her eyes fell on Harry’s face. He was still asleep as were his three battle companions. The spells he had used to take down the Dark Lord and then his minions had drained him to fatal lows. The staff he had used in the last moments of battle was still clutched in his bandaged hands. Even unconscious, he had refused to relinquish it, switching hands as they were treated. In the soft night lights, she could see that his hair had turned white in several random clumps, making it look messier then usual. The scar that had marked him for so long was bleeding sluggishly. Alarmed, she rang the small bell she found by her bed. “Ginny!” Madame Pomfrey cried. “You’re awake! We were so worried when you relapsed, child, but now you’ll be fine!” “Harry’s scar…”She whispered, suddenly aware of how parched her throat was. “What? Oh, yes.” Wistful eyes trailed over his face. “It’s been doing that for some time. We can seem to stop it. I rather think that Harry will be able to mend himself when he wakes up.” “Then he will wake up?” “Of course!” The woman smiled at her. “I forgot you’ve been asleep. He, Ron, Draco and Professor Snape will be fine. They’ve been magically drained most terribly, but another day or so and they’ll be up and about.” A scowl came over the normally pleasant face. “Severus is such a terrible patient. I’ll have to tie him down to keep him from wandering.” The image of Professor Snape struggling against ropes was too amusing to resist and Ginny giggled dryly. “Now isn’t that a pleasant sound? First I’ve heard of laughter here these past few days. Everyone is so somber when the visit the ill.” “May I have some water?” “Oh! What am I thinking.” She summoned a pleasant looking draught. “Sip this slowly, it will ease the dryness in your throat. It will wake you up some and then maybe you’d like to see a visitor? Hermione asked to see you when you were well enough.” Drinking with great relief at the minty liquid, she nodded. Pomfrey left and Ginny happily finished off the rest of the glass, setting it down gently on the bedside table. Energy slowly returned, not enough so that she thought of getting out of bed, but sufficient enough for a conversation or two. Surprisingly, Hermione did not come alone. The bushy haired girl arrived with Zabini in tow and they both pulled up chairs at her bedside. “I’m so glad you’re awake.” The Gryffindor girls beamed at each other. “You were our last big worry. Everyone else has been healed or on the mend.” “Sorry to be so much trouble.” She muttered. “Don’t be silly. It’s over now anyway.” The grin on Hermione’s face threatened to split it in two. “I wanted to be the first to see you for a reason. A very greedy one.” “There’s news for us. All of the First Defense.” Blaise stepped in. “And she wants you to be the first to hear it.” “The Ministry’s been shaken up quite a bit once all the attacking Death Eaters were rounded up. Turns out several of Fudge’s cronies were involved and they fingered him in silently supporting Voldemort. Your Dad is the temporary new Minister!” “He must be miserable.” She shook her head. “He would hate having that much power.” “Gryffindors.” Blaise muttered darkly. “He may not like it, but he’s been very effective.” Hermione went on, ignoring the remark. “All the convicted Death Eater’s are to be sent to Azkaban which will run more like a Muggle prison now with all the Dementors gone. Anyway, Dumbledore told him about everything we’d done and he immediately decided that the First Defense should become a permanent group. We still haven’t worked out all the details yet, but those who wish to stay with the Defense will serve as a sort of an elite army and intelligence group.” “That’s…great?” It seemed strange to imagine Hermione dedicating her life to fighting. Ginny had always pictured her as researching in some dark nook. Yet, the more she thought about she realized that her friend would never be content to seclusion. She needed the stimulation of others activities and she needed at least a little power. “You’re invited to join us.” Blaise threw it out casually, but she saw his eyes were keen as they watched her reaction. “Whether or not you do, you will be given a lot of recognition along with the rest. As soon as the dead have been properly mourned.” “How many?” Fear rose in her. She remembered the confusion of the fighting once their trained moves had been exhausted, the fear and the adrenaline rush. “They were light, thanks to Harry’s intervention. Two. Ethan Werde from Ravenclaw and Melanie Retear from Slytherin were both Kissed. Ethan fell from the roof afterwards and Melanie developed a severe infection of a minor wound. It set on too quickly for Madame Pomfrey to stop. There’s been some rumor that her brother did it.” “That’s terrible.” “Maybe.” Hermione conceded. “But what’s done is done and we were incredibly lucky not to have lost more. Now, you rest up, so that you can come down to the Victory Feast next week.” She rose, deliberately leaving Blaise behind. The dark haired Slytherin regarded her with his crystal blue eyes. “You did well.” He said shortly. “Think about the offer. It would be…prudent to have someone with your talents on our mission. Talents which can be used for so much darkness should it fall into the wrong hands.” Before she could question him on the cryptic statement, he was gone. It occurred to her only as she slid back down to rest her head on the pillow to fall back asleep that it had been a warning. There was no normal life to be found for her now. Soon she would be exposed as the one who identified traitors in the ranks, too many of the First Defense had known of it for it remain silent for long. Then any would be Dark Lord would want her as their own magic hound. It would be no use explaining her especial link with Voldemort. She needed protection and the best place for that in new unstable times would be with the First Defense. Bitter tears lulled her to sleep as she wept for the life she would never have. )*( The library was even quieter then usual that evening. Most of the students had returned to their homes after the Victory Feast to be with their families until the repairs could be made to Hogwart’s and the government. Two vastly different kinds of repairs. A few who were now orphaned stayed behind under the watchful eye of Dumbledore and his staff. The Death Eaters’ children must be treated with kindness now or who knew what bitterness would do to them? Most, however, did not seem inclined to rage against those who had incarcerated and in some cases killed their parents. A few of them had even expressed their gratitude at having been released from inevitable slavery to a Lord they did not with to serve. Harry had stayed as well, at first because he was ill then because of he endless ceremonies. The others had stayed as well, but they’d all been too busy to sleep even one proper night let alone speak together. The mind link was still intact, but one by one they learned how to turn it off and in the last week there was mental silence. Now, hidden away in the library, the ghastly staff leaning against his chair, Harry finally felt ready to react. Very slowly, he let the repressing blocks fall from his mind like so much rope and allowed everything to become fully realized. He had defeated Voldemort using Dark Magic and turned the Dementors to dust. His wand had been burned to cinders in the process and no one seemed to think it should be replaced. The staff was obviously a better fit for his powers and despite his inherent distrust of it, he had to agree that it focused his power much better then any wand could. He was bound by mind to three men. The bond. It seemed millennia since it had been formed though in truth it wasn’t even a month yet. It clouded his feelings, making him unsure…no that wasn’t quite it. He was sure of how he felt, he just wasn’t sure if he felt it because of he bond. For a moment, he tried to imagine his life without them. A raging sadness took him over. No, he couldn’t leave any one of them behind. Not Draco or Snape, who once he had wished dead a thousand times over and certainly not Ron, who had killed for all of them. The emotion beating him was so strong and foreign the he almost did not recognize it. Something Draco said came to his mind, “I would give my life for his. If that's love then yes.” I would, Harry realized, I’d give my life for all of them. I almost did. No one liked to talk about how Harry had been the last to awaken of the quartet, sliding into a coma before he finally arose. He had known the danger going in. Known that as the focus, the spell would consume him inside and out, but he would not concede to look for something else, a spell less promising, but less dangerous. “Harry? What are you doing….Are you crying?” It was Draco who found him, a half-hour later still sobbing under the weight of emotion. “Do you have a handkerchief?” Stupefied, the blond handed him a white square of fabric that he blew into with gusto. “Thanks.” “Keep it.” Hesitantly, Draco moved closer, dragging a chair across to Harry’s. “What’s all this about then?” “I’m scared.” Solemn green eyes captured silver. “Bloody terrified actually.” “Of what? We’ve vanquished all the monsters, Harry.” He pointed at the staff. “You’re even using them to walk.” “The bond…it’s clouded my emotions…Everything in my life has been decided for me. Everything!” He sprang out his chair, anger lighting from within. He began to pace. “From an accident when I was year old, people have been making decisions for me and molding me to what they wanted. I did every thing I could to make it happen without question. I always thought…I always thought that after everything I would be free to make my own choices. But this bond and now…I won’t ever have the chance to meet someone else or choose my mate.” “Sit down, Potter.” The growl was unmistakable and Draco’s eyes glittered like steel. Harry sat. “What’s really bothering you?” “I…that’s it…” Under the hardening glance he let out a long sigh. “I’ve never felt like this before. I wasn’t gay until this all happened and now, I think…I think that I can’t live without any of you. The past week has been killing me… I missed your touch in my head.” Almost at once, a soothing wave of affection wrapped itself around his mind. “I missed it too.” Draco said softly and without hesitation, he climbed into Harry’s lap, rubbing his head gently against the stark bandage against Harry’s forehead. “Still bleeding?” “A little. It’s Voldemort’s death cry, I think.” His arms encircled the slender man in his lap. “I love you.” “I know. And it’s real.” The tone was firm and the touch behind it sure. “The bond only drew from seedlings of what was already there. You might have wound up with any one of us. Now, you’re just lucky to have all three.” “Are you sure of that?” For the first time in a while, Harry thought rationally about the bond. “I think Severus is intent on closing off completely.” “You noticed too? Don’t worry. Ron and I have a plan.” “When did you two find time to scheme together?” “After we talked last night.” Draco admitted. He shared the memory of a very angry discussion on the Quiddatch pitch that resulted in a more rational one in the halls. They had reopened the link between them. “What’s the plan?” He asked, ready to do what it took to convince their eldest bond-mate. “It’s being implanted while we speak. I call it Operation Rationalize. I’ll tell you about it as we walk to the dungeons.” “What did you call this?” He asked amused as Draco moved from him and let him rise. With a firm grip he set his staff in front of him and began to walk in time with it’s quiet tapping. “It must have been a divide and conquer mission.” “You were easier. Ron got the short straw.” Draco smiled at him. “R and R. Reassure and Readjust.” )*( Vacationing had never been Hermione’s strong suit. Vacationing in the middle of the year even less so. She simply didn’t know what to do with herself and as much as she loved her parents, they were no longer a part of the world she lived in. They had tried to adjust the best they could, but there was a wall between them now. When she had explained about her unexpected return and her part in the events that had led up to it, they had been proud, but she could not fail to miss the worried glances they shot each other. Parents were supposed to protect their children and her parents had been robbed of that. It was she, taking advantage of the temporary mix-ups at the Ministry, who protected them, warding the house with the strongest she could muster without attracting the befuddled government. Boredom stretched. Nothing could be done with the First Defense until the first wave of students graduated. There was no homework, nothing left to study and she couldn’t get her hands on more texts because she had been strongly advised not to leave her home until she returned to Hogwart’s. It was all made worse by the suddenness. After such an intense period of activity and fear, it dropped almost in an instant to nothing at all. For the first time in many years, the threat of Voldemort didn’t weigh on her mind. The endless worries for Harry as she lay safe in her own bed were gone. Her life had changed so rapidly… It was mid-afternoon while her parents were at work that someone rang the doorbell. Ordinarily this wouldn’t have roused her from the Muggle text she was engrossed in, but she was positive that her parents’ doorbell buzzed. This one chimed. Curious and a little frightened, she tiptoed down the stairs to pear through the peephole. Standing there, completely at odds with the suburbia around him was Blaise. Uttering a short anti-disguise charm, she flung open the door and for a long moment only smiled at him. Only on his arrival did she realize how often her thoughts had been returning to him in the mind-numbing silence or how many letters she had begun composing to him in her head. “Come in.” He walked gingerly inside as if entering a museum. She supposed that for him a Muggle home was a novelty. “I am sorry to intrude upon your vacation.” Polite in a way only a pureblood could be and she felt suddenly dumpy and underdressed. For a day alone she wore only jeans and an old white t-shirt. Her feet were bare. He was wrapped in tailored black from head to toe. “Not at all. Can I get you something to drink?” “No, thank you.” He stood a little inside the doorway, blue eyes darting and she realized he was nervous. That made her nervous. “Is there something wrong?” “No, no.” He assured, rocking slightly on his feet. He’s eighteen like me, she thought out of the blue. Since that first day in the library, she had been unconsciously thinking of him as older with his poise and detachment, but now, he was acting like any other teenage boys she had ever known. “Would you like to sit?” “How much do you know about wizarding etiquette?” They blinked at each other and Hermione giggled tightly. “Here sit. I don’t know much of it. It’s not much written about.” Stiffly, he sat in the proffered armchair as she took its companion. Finding it not any different from a wizarding seat, he relaxed, taking on the same alert casualness she had come to associate with him. “Of course there isn’t. If you weren’t refined enough to have someone who taught it to you then you had no business learning it.” He snorted derisively. “It’s amazing that some pureblood families aren’t completely inbred.” “Why do you ask?” Did I do something wrong, the question behind the question lingered. “I…” He pushed a hand through his hair, disheveling it further. “The ceremonies for this are drilled into my skull and I never thought I would want to use them, but I can see now why there were invented. Damn lot easier to say practiced phrases to someone who’s been trained up to recognize them then to come up with your own words and hope the other person understands.” “Most boys I know just tend to blurt out whatever comes to their heads. It doesn’t seem to have hurt them any in the long run.” Her curiosity was up in arms. What could upset unflappable Blaise? And why was he here? “That’s because all the boys you know are Gryffindors.” He pointed out. “They’re sorted because of their mouths, I think.” “Honestly, I thought you were better then house prejudice.” She scolded. “It’s not as if Slytherins are subtle. Draco certainly wasn’t.” “That is because, up until recently, Draco was a prat. And prats, regardless of house, are not subtle.” “I thought he was your friend?” “One of the best, doesn’t exclude him from being a prat.” “I think we’ve wandered from the purpose of your visit.” She said primly when she failed to come up with a suitable rejoinder. Cornered, his eyes dropped and he actually scuffed the floor with his foot like Ron did when he was forced to confess. “When I returned home there was a grand celebration. My parents threw a ball that lasted nearly three days. There was never a moments peace from one festivity to the next and through it all I was completely bored.” His eyes flickered back over her face and down to the floor again. “It is the type of situation that I have always found tedious, but for the first time, I had a thought that kept me from yawning.” “What was it?” She prompted when he paused. “I kept thinking…that had you been there, we could have made it interesting. You would have thought of something to talk about or do. Then as time went on…I wanted you to be there so I could show you the things that I found boring. You’ve probably never been to a gala before…” She gaped at him, wondering if this was leading anywhere. The full weight of dark blue stare was on her. “I couldn’t get you out of my mind.” “Fighting together creates emotional bonds.” Her tongue tripped over her brain in her hurry to explain it away. “It will fade…” “I can’t say this right. “He muttered darkly. “Say what?” “I’m going to use etiquette.” He warned. “Listen.” “But…”His glare cut her off. “All right.” “Lady Hermione, I formally request to begin courting you with the intention, but not obligation of marriage.” The words hovered in the air between them as she carefully sorted through them. “That’s how purebloods ask for a date?” She finally asked. “It is a wonder that you marry outside the family.” “Is that a refusal or an acceptance?” “I accept, on one condition.” “Already you sound like a pureblood.” Neither of them seemed sure if it was a compliment or an insult. “If at any time you realize that what you feel isn’t real then you will break if off immediately.” “Is that all? Pansy made one of her suitors pledge to cut off a finger if he should find her unacceptable.” “And?” “Draco told me that it was a female who broke his fingers.” The mood somber again, he nodded. “I agree to the condition. Are you free this Friday?” “Yes.” She smiled at him then frowned. “What to wizards and witches do on dates?” “Dinner is traditional on the first date.” “I wonder who decided that night was date time? Muggles have a similar tradition.” “It probably originated from a time when nights were the only non-working hours.” Their somberness overwhelmed them at the same time and they began to laugh. Despite their clear differences in that moment they were an odd mirror image of messy hair, laughter and resilience. )*( None of them would ever know that Ron had intentionally taken the short straw. After all, any Gryffindor worth his salt knew how Slytherins cheated at everything. He had wanted this half of the job. Instinctually, he knew that coming from him Severus would be less likely to question then if it were Draco. The two had been so close before everything that it was doubtful the potions master would believe that Draco spoke for all three boys. Send the least likely candidate….that was another story altogether. The dungeons were quieter then he remembered them. The students were gone of course…funny how he no longer thought of himself as one of their number. He felt far to aged to still be in school and hoped that the Headmaster would make good on his promise of starting the school year up again as soon as possible. It was time to graduate and move on. The private apartments of the Slytherin Head of House were hard to find if one didn’t live in the bowels of the castle. Luckily, Draco’s memory was once more open to him and he picked his way through blind corridors and booby traps. He remembered the night they had frantically rushed here to initially convince Severus to close the bond. Draco had led them then, under the Invisibility cloak. They had all been half mad with lust. In retrospect, it was amazing they had made it down here at all. Draco…Ron sighed, rubbing his eyes as he sidestepped a trap door. They had been up half the night, arguing and working against the impulse of touch. In the end, they had fallen asleep in the same bed, waking in a tight embrace. There was to be no avoiding the irritating Slytherin now, he joked to himself. Let one into your bed and that’s the end of it. The idea of the looming future had nearly overwhelmed them both and the fear hadn’t entirely subsided. Distantly, he was aware of Draco searching for Harry and directed him quietly towards the library. He sighed. No matter the fear, it was worth it not to be alone. It might seem idiotic to those who knew of his colossal family, but Ron had always felt lonely. Bill and Charlie, Fred and George they were the inseparable pairs of the family. Ginny and Percy were loners, isolated by their difference. Percy for his solid do-gooder tendencies and Ginny because…well she was girl. Ron played fierce protector of her, but he didn’t understand her. He’d grown up watching his brothers, often the butt of one practical joke or another. From a far he’d admired the pairs with their easy relationship and permanent confidante. He had been lonely…he hadn’t even known how lonely until the bond had welcomed three others into his mind. He wanted that back and no one would stop him. Not even Severus Snape. Keeping that resolve in mind, he gave the passwords that they had all memorized in the weeks of training. The portrait of Horace Ilillan, the last Slytherin Headmaster, frowned at him and moved aside. “Professor?” The main room was dark and quiet. He moved quietly through it, peeking in through the open door. The bedroom was empty though the bed had been slept in. It had been returned to its original narrow size, but the memories filled Ron’s head anyway. He left the bedroom behind and searched for another door. The bathroom was empty though the thought of the shower tinged his cheeks pink. Only one door left and at this one was more promising, light on and everything. He knocked. “Professor?” Nothing. Gently, he turned the knob and slowly eased the door open. The powerful sent of ammonia overwhelmed him and he quickly cast a Cleansing Breath charm. The room was undeniably Severus’ personal laboratory filled with hundreds of cauldrons and vials of every shape, size and material. There were several things bubbling at once, some that he could recognize almost at once and others that were completely foreign. Behind a long wooden table laden with ingredients and meticulously written parchments was Severus. He was cloaked in his heaviest robes and wore thick protective glasses. Severus was unconscious to the rest of the world as he studied whatever concoction he was putting together, that much was obvious. Very quietly, so as not to disturb him, Ron settled into a stool and set about watching, wondering just how long it would take before the older man would register his presence. The concentration was everything he expected of his teacher. The man moved with quick anatomy, throwing in previously measured ingredients in the neat formulized row. Whatever was in the cauldron bubbled listlessly for the most part, flaring up in an orange wave when a greenish liquid was added. Severus made a careful note and then went on. Ron watched, fascinated, in a way he had never been about potions before….or maybe it was more with potions master. “Mr. Weasley.” The potion had apparently reached a stage that allowed Severus to re-enter the world of the living. “What are you doing here?” “I’m the spokesman for a larger group, sir.” He allowed a smile crawl across his face as Severus scowled darkly at him. “Get out before I report you to the Headmaster.” “I think the Headmaster would be more likely to encourage me then punish me, sir.” The smile refused to dim and if Severus’ eyes got any narrower they might disappear entirely. “You see, I came because you’ve been injuring students.” “What?! Of all the ridiculous claims…” “But you have, sir. Harry, Draco and I…we’re in significant pain. Both on emotional and mental levels.” That was Draco’s line and it sounded it on his tongue, so he plowed on in his own words. “We miss you.” “Hardly. The bond is fighting for it’s own survival. It will end in time.” “It’s not the bond.” He said softly. “Not anymore. The bond started it and makes it stronger.” “You want me to believe that three eligible young men have, entirely by themselves, decided that they cannot live without me? What kind of fool do you take me for, Mr. Weasley?” “A greasy one.” He retorted sharply. “And Draco wanted you long before the bond. Harry would have anyway, eventually. Maybe not this year or the next, but when he was ready.” “And what about you, Mr. Weasley?” The sneer was a throwback to first year, but by now Ron felt immune. “Surely you weren’t harboring secret fantasies about me until the bond robbed you of whatever sense you were born with?” “Nope. Which is why I’m here and not Harry or Draco.” He locked eyes with the glare that once reduced him to jelly and held. “I love you, Severus Snape and no, I don’t know if I would have without the bond, but I do know that even without it now I would. You’re loyal, strong and you have more courage then half of Gryffindor. You would have killed Lucius to spare me the task. When you aren’t being so nasty, you’re good company and you have really great hands.” Severus blinked, once, slowly. Ron saw his advantage and gently pressed, opening his mind. “If you don’t believe me then look.” Hesitantly, a light mental finger touched the edges of his mind, searching for a trap. The whole time he held eye contact, refusing to back down. Slowly, softly, Severus’ presence entered his mind with the same licorice black it had been before. The thin strings wove themselves around Draco’s mint green chains, pulling him inexorably closer. Severus collapsed onto his stool, burying his face in his hands. “I was too weak to resist.” He muttered, but Ron was having none of it. “For once you were too strong to reject.” He soothed, moving to his eldest lover’s side and placing a single hand on the back of his neck, light enough not to be owning, close enough not to be merely friendly. “I think your potion is solidifying.” “It’s supposed to do that.” Was the cutting reply. “If you’d paid attention in second year…” The lecture was almost soothing and he moved a chair closer to his teacher and just listened as Severus calmed them both back to bearable levels. Draco whispered praises into his skull and bittersweet blue velvet rope tangled in. Harry was back. They were a unit again and this time there would be no backing out. )*( TEN YEARS LATER )*( Leaving behind the dream world in stages, Harry became gradually more aware of fingers circling and entering his arse. As soon as he had control over his voice, he moaned in encouragement. He was rewarded with another finger and a delicious slow stroking of his prostate that had his eyes fluttering open. “Mmmm.” The bed was empty beside he and the wonderful man with the fingers. They pushed in a little deeper and twisted in a familiar pattern. “Ssssseeeeev….” The potions master spread over his back like a comforting blanket and very slowly penetrated him. He was still slippery from the playful romp with Ron the night before, but Severus had awe-inspiring control. Barely moving, he set the languid pace that made morning sex a wonderful thing. Harry groaned contently as talented gnarled fingers began to dance over his rapidly growing erection. They moved together, locked in the slow familiar rhythm that coiled warm in the stomach. When Harry finally came it was without fanfare, a slow release marked with a fluttering sigh. Severus continued to move within him, sending delicious sensations through his oversensitive nerves. Eventually, Severus bit down lightly on his shoulder and gave his own delicate shudder. “Thank you.” Harry murmured as Severus settled on his side, running appreciative hands over the younger man’s flanks. “What did I do to rate?” It was a long-standing joke that morning sex from Severus was the highest and most coveted prize between the three younger men. It was a rare and beautiful thing. Not to mention the joke worked to stroke Severus’ crippled ego. “I was merely relaxing you for your class. Or had you forgotten?” Suddenly, the delicious morning fogginess was jolted from his body. Of course. The annual qualifying day for the special DADA classes were being held today. Since Harry’s installation as professor of the revolving door subject, he had instituted an elite class for fifth, sixth and seventh year students. The class was taught to all those who adequately passed the qualifying day tests. The day had to be held outside of the normal school year for a variety of reasons and for the sixth year in the row, Harry cursed his decision to have it mid-summer, even if was the only viable time. “Ugh. Just for reminding me, you have to shower with me.” “I’m sure it will be a trial beyond endurance.” As always, the incredible joy of becoming clean relaxed him again and the routine game of attempting to wash Severus hair certainly shook him awake. Unfortunately, he had no new tricks up his sleeves, so the potion masters hair was merely wet and not totally degreased. On the sly, Severus would return to the shower after his young lovers had left and scrub until he was pink. The man had an almost compulsive cleanliness, but he would be damned if he admitted it. Of course, they all knew what was going on, but it was one of the general compromises they had made not to discuss it. Besides, it was far too much fun coming up with more and more outrageous spells in the shower. After dressing, the men left behind the bedroom and went down the staircase, exiting out of a cupboard and into the kitchen. The first floor of their collective home was a living room, dining room, guest room, bathroom and kitchen. That was the floor that almost everyone saw. Only those they trusted had ever seen the second floor bedroom or the basement laboratory where Severus spent most of his time. The scene that met them was almost hilariously domestic and typical. Draco was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the Daily Prophet and sipping a ludicrously large mug of coffee while Ron poured pancake batter in neat circles onto the frying pan. After years of struggle, they still only had one house elf, a rather cheeky one for the breed named Morrie. Between Ron and Severus, Morrie was never given a chance to cook unless it was to sneak Harry a snack on the sly and perhaps Draco as well, but no one had ever caught the blond red handed. “Good morning!” He said chirpily, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Silver eyes regarded him intently over the fold of the newspaper. “Oi! How come you rated?” Draco stared at him, a smile quirking at the corners of his lips. Harry laughed. “It’s the DADA summer semester, today.” Ron reminded, floating the first finished stack to Draco. “I have to be there too!” “You get to sleep the whole time.” Harry reminded. “What time will you be home tonight Ron?” “Round nine, I think. I’m down for the ten to eight shift, but you know how things happen at the last minute.” A soft stack landed in front of Harry and Severus. “I wish you’d ask for a transfer.” Ron rolled his eyes. It was an old fight. “Honestly, Drake, the E.R. isn’t as dangerous as you make it out to be.” “Who said anything about danger.” The blond grumped, throwing down his paper. Deftly, Severus appropriated it. “Your hours are terrible, you come home with bags under your eyes and muck under your fingernails. With the rate they’ve been promoting you, you’ll probably wind up head of the whole thing and we’ll never see you again.” “Its not like Severus doesn’t work long hours and you don’t pick on him.” “Ron, Sev works in the basement. It’s hardly the same.” Harry reminded. “Besides, if we nag him, he growls at us. You just argue.” The potions master in question lifted an eyebrow before returning to his pilfered paper. As usual, the silent admonishment ended the spat. Quiet reigned for along moment as they all concentrated on fueling up for the day. The food was excellent as always and between the four of them they drank two and half pots of coffee. “Ready to go, Drake?” “As I’ll ever be. Working in the summer should be outlawed.” They all rose from the table to go there separate ways. Before Ron could return upstairs to change into his medi-wizard robes, Draco snagged him by the ripping waistband of his jeans and dragged him backwards until they were pressed tightly together. “Sorry.” He muttered, nipping at the freckled neck. A broad smile eased between them, warmth flooding the link. “You’re forgiven, brat. Don’t forget to bring the you-know-what back.” He winked and pulled away. //Harry hasn’t guessed yet, I don’t think.// //Good. See you tonight then.// “Drake? I’m going to floo into my office, are you coming?” Another glance and they were both on their way, Draco to Harry’s side and Ron to get ready for work. Severus remained at the kitchen table, slowly dissecting the paper. In his own time, he would shower again and make his way to the basement lab that put his old office to shame. A semi-retired freelance potions master could do good profitably work it turned out and still have plenty of time to research. //Sev? Have you seen my medi-wizard robes?// The mental voice was muffled as it usually became when any one of them was in the shower or bath. //Morrie was making a fuss of getting the bloodstains out of them. They’re probably still in the laundry.// He hesitated for a long moment. //I’ll bring them up to you.// Gratitude caressed his mind and he smiled briefly. The littlest things made Ron happy, of all of them he was the easiest to please. Harry and Draco had edges and complicated layers, but Ron was consistent at least. Their own rock. The house elf had indeed been laboring over the robes and was plugging away at the insurmountable mounds of Harry, Ron and Draco’s wardrobes. Severus added little to the pile himself. The bedroom was still empty by the time he had retrieved the robes and gotten back upstairs. He settled in one of the comfortable armchairs that littered the spacious bedchamber. Ron appeared within a few moments, toweling off his hair. Ten years had killed almost all inhibition and he’d come out of the bathroom gloriously naked. Severus watched him get dressed appreciatively. “Leech.” Ron said, grinning. “Shouldn’t you be hip deep in belladonna?” “Unlike some people, I make my own hours. Have you given any more thought to opening a private practice?” The red head grimaced. “You’ve guessed, haven’t you?” “For a Slytherin, Draco has an appalling lack of subtlety.” “Well, keep it quiet. It’s part of the surprise tonight. You don’t think Harry’s guessed, do you?” “Draco’s subtlety is only matched by Harry’s power of observation.” Fully dressed, Ron brushed his lips to Severus’ cheek. “Good. I’ll see you tonight then.” There was a beat and Ron was gone. Severus savored the first long silence of the day, before working his winding way to the basement. Hip deep in belladonna, indeed. )*( The classroom was filled with anticipation and sweat. The temperature had soared to new heights and the school’s cooling charms hadn’t been activated. Forty students were crammed into a room made for twenty. They had automatically separated into houses and were chatting animatedly among themselves. The doors swept open and they fell automatically silent as cool gray eyes swept their room. “I know,” The imposing potions master began, “that some of you were expecting to see Professor Potter today. Those of you who have been here before know that we work together on the special DADA classes. In Professor Potter’s stead, I would like to introduce you to one of his menagerie.” A faint sneer was suggested by the quirk of his lip. “This is Lune.” From the still open door came a large delicate cat, its shoulders rolling. With a low growl, he rubbed against the potions master’s legs. “You will treat Lune with the respect you would a human being.” All of them nodded, guiltily. “For those of you who have never attended this session before, you should know that the acceptance level is very low. You will know by the end of the day whether or not you will be attending the thrice-weekly course. Regardless of your age, this is a three-year course. For those sixth and seventh years among you who are accepted, you will have to find a way to work the course around your post-Hogwart’s lives. There is no withdrawing once you have begun. “Wands out. We’re going to start with simple defenses…” The day wore on, filled with tests on a variety of topics including some written works. In the end, every student, even his own Slytherins felt like taking a knife to the potions master and his furry companion. “One last question and then you can all adjourn to dinner.” A fresh parchment appeared in front of all of them. “Why was Lune here today?” The sixth and seventh years groaned remembering the question from years past. Like all the other exams, the correct answers were never revealed, so they could be used again the next year. Most of them dashed off something that was more ridiculous then last years while others thought intensely. Ten minutes later, they were all seated around a laden table, happily downing one of Hogwart’s best. Halfway through dessert, Professors Potter and Snape entered and settled next to Dumbledore at the teacher table, apparently deep in conversation. Everyone knew that the Professors were married, but no one would ever have guessed by their almost constant bickering. Many students believed that Professor Snape the elder had something to do with it, living as he did in their strange house a little outside of the castle itself. It was hard to imagine that two such diametrically opposite, gorgeous young professors would choose each other’s company unless enthralled to do so by some maliciously bent wizard. “May we have your attention?” It was Professor Potter who stood, green eyes glinting and the faint ever-present smile on his lips. “I would like to announce that Alison Ray, Dreadon Semela, Greta Mercant, Jack Grier, Natalie McCormik and Xander Farson have all been chosen to enter into the elite DADA classes. Each of you will receive a course packet by owl within the next two weeks. You will be expected to come to the first class fully prepared.” Sighs, groans and a few tears could be seen and quiet triumph from the privileged few. “Professor Snape and I would like to speak to Reese Fallon and Marcus Baker in my office immediately.” The two children glanced at each other, bewildered. Reese was a tiny slip of a fifth year girl, sorted into Gryffindor to her own disbelief. The past years had drawn her out some, but she still felt that something had gone wrong. Marcus was a bulky, square jawed Slytherin with every intention of living up to his houses’ notorious cunning. Every one thought him an idiot, which suited his purposes exactly. They both rose and followed the imposing wake of the two teachers. The walk did indeed lead them into the familiar office of Gryffindor’s Head of House. It was a warm friendly room filled with clutter and several comfortable chairs. The two professors settled on one side of a large worn desk and gestured for them to take their seats on the other. “You’re not in any trouble.” Professor Potter assured them. “Yet.” His blond counter part added. “In fact, it’s quite the opposite.” He continued on merrily. “I have something to give you.” Quick-scarred fingers pulled open a desk jar and withdrew identical slim wooden boxes. He placed them in front of them. “It is entirely up to you whether or not you accept these.” Reese opened hers first and once Marcus was sure whatever was in it wasn’t going to attack, he opened his as well. A thick purple ribbon twitched in its slim wooden casing. “B-but this is the ribbon of the First Defense!” Reese caressed the polished wood. “Headed by Hermione Granger and Blaise Zabini during the Grand Defeat.” “And headed still? Isn’t it?” Marcus’ cow brown eyes fell solemnly to his head of house, Professor Snape nodded slowly. “Very good, Marcus. Yes, the First Defense exists still. There is only one way to become a member. You must be trained rigoursly beginning in your fifth year. After Hogwart’s you will join apprentices from several other schools and undergo another year of specialized course work. If you accept, you will receive your first lesson tomorrow.” “Why us?” Her hands still fluttered lovingly on the box, but Reese’s eyes were sharp. “The last question.” Professor Potter’s smile widened. “You both got the right answer.” “It was easy.” Marcus grunted. “Everyone knows that Professor Snape has a glass eye and I’m sorry, sir, but you don’t have the same presence.” “Precisely my reasoning.” The slight Gryffindor chimed it. “I don’t see why we’re the only two here.” “No one else even came close.” The darker professor assured them. “Now, should I be writing to Mrs. Granger now or preparing memory charms?” “I accept.” They said in unison. “Excellent. Of course, you know you can’t tell anyone? If you’re parents question you, you may tell them that you have been accepted for private tutoring in DADA. Anything you want to add?” “I think you have explained everything adequately, Potter. You’re both dismissed.” They clamored out, already whispering discreetly between them. “Have you been taking lessons from Severus again?” Harry stood, pushing out his chair. “If you’d been any drier the plants would have died.” “Shove it, Dumbledore junior. I just wanted the kids to scat. Another happy couple made amen, owl Hermione and let’s go home, I’m exhausted.” “You? I distinctly remember Lune spending the whole day curled up under the desk.” But Harry reached for a piece of parchment and began to scribble a note. “She’s well into her second trimester, I hope Blaise convinces her to step down for a few months this time.” “Even he isn’t that slick.” Helena, a descendant of the dearly departed Hedwig, obediently held out her leg for the note and was gone only a little before her masters. “Drake? This isn’t home.” “Ten points to Gryffindor.” They got off the floor of the dark room. “Lumos!” The light was almost obscenely bright, illuminating several shoddy paintings and a stack of old magazines. “Why are we in a doctor’s office?” “You’re here for you annual checkup.” The blond said tartly. “This way.” Bemused, Harry followed him through the office and into one of the rooms with a high table and swiveling chair that came standard in every checkup room. Ron was sitting in the chair in the white robes of a medi-wizard while Severus lounged against the wall looking pleased with himself. “What the hell?” “Welcome, Mr. Potter.” Ron winked at him. “I’m Dr. Weasley, how can I help you today?” It took roughly seven seconds for Harry to understand when it sunk in; he let out a whoop and charged his old friend, knocking them both to the floor. “Your own office! Ron, this is amazing!” “Offf.” The red head wiggled beneath him. “Happy bleeding birthday, you tosser.” “It’s not my birthday….” Harry said slowly. “It’s not for another….oh…It is my birthday! I totally forgot what with the class schedule and the conference this week. Hey!” “Congratulations, Mr. Potter Uncia Snape Weasley.” Draco clapped him on the back, hauling him from the floor. “You’re officially the biggest idiot of the four of us.” “Oi!” Harry laughed through his indignation. What went unsaid was how amazing it was that after years of trying to make up for the neglect of his childhood, Harry had finally managed to let go. “Where’re the presents then?” “Come into the lobby. Hermione and Blaise are bringing everything in as we speak.” The blond pulled him out the door. “Do you think they brought James?” The four year old was not only Harry’s godson, but also one of his greatest joys. “I asked them too. Promised ‘em that you’d take care of him the whole time.” Ron patted him on the back. The lobby was indeed overflowing when they reached it. A fairly large cake was set on a low table and magiced balloons danced on the ceiling much to James’ delight. The bright-eyed little boy was giggling manically as he attempted to catch one. Harry swept him up and let him capture on. “Happy berfday, Uncle Hawwy.” The little boy bussed him on the cheek before scuttling back over to his father. Blaise smiled down at his son. “Good job.” A knock interrupted the moment and everyone, but Harry fell silent. “That’s your other surprise then.” Ron said nervously. He went to the door and opened it slowly. “Happy Birthday, Harry.” The man who stood behind the door was almost entirely unrecognizable. Sandy hair had grown long and dashing, all the extra fat that had lingered was gone, leaving behind an almost distressingly thin frame. The eyes that once could have been considered naïve were hard with sadness. Faint wrinkles were creased as he scuffed his foot on the entrance. “Neville…” When all the dust had settled, it was discovered that Neville had been slowly poisoned over time, his blood was thick with the black mind suppresser. The potion took years and years to work and explained why as a young boy he had been awkward and strange. The brief war had left a lot of aftermath and it had been some time before they could ‘thaw’ Neville out and drain him of the mind-altering drugs. The boy had disappeared after that and it was the first time Harry had seen him in over a decade. “Hello, Harry.” In an instant, Harry was on him, embracing him in a tight hug. It was too long now to hold grudges. The surprised man returned the hug, burying his face in his old friend’s shoulder. From behind him, the noise of clapping. “Ginny!” Harry spied his friend over Neville’s shoulder. She smiled brightly at him. “Get your hands off of my fiancée Harry Potter. Honestly, as if three men wasn’t enough.” Harry released the thin man and took him by the arms. “Are you really making an honest woman out of her? Sweet Merlin man, you must be a miracle worker!” He was almost positive that the curse Ginny sent at him was meant out of affection. The rest of the party was comparatively uneventful. It came to a close fairly shortly as Draco and Severus passed their Gryffindor limit. There were signs that Ron and Harry had become accustomed too as they other pair began to edge closer to each other, spoke less and sniped over the mental link. //Thank all that’s holy I never have to get pregnant, ‘Mione looks like she might explode.// Draco snickered. //It could be arranged.//Severus said darkly. “All right, out of my office.” Ron said briskly rising and smacking Draco on the side of the head, discreetly. “I need to open up tomorrow.” “We should go home anyway. I think James is tuckered out.” With sloppy cheek kissed for everyone, but Severus who wouldn’t stand for that sort of thing, the Zabini’s left. “We should go too. We’ll be sending out invitations for the wedding soon and you better come.” Ginny informed them. “All of you.” Her glare caught Draco as he jumped behind, Ron. “Yes’m. You take good care of her, Neville. And one day I want to hear the whole story behind this. “All right. Thank you, Harry.” The sincerity was painful and they left in a rush of blushes and stumbles. After a quick tidying up, the four apperated home, landing safely in the bedroom. //Thank you. All of you. That was one of the best birthdays ever.// //One?!// The younger Slytherin threw a sock at him. //Well, it doesn’t top the one where you painted Sev in Gryffindor colors and tied him to the bed…// //I thought we had an agreement to never mention that again.// The man in question grumbled. //I would like to imagine that I still have some dignity left.// The silence was deafening. //Brats.// Harry pushed the older man onto the bed and straddled him. “You didn’t say happy birthday to me yet, Sev. That was pretty rude.” The potion’s master smirked and drew him down for a long wet kiss. When it was over, Harry snaked down and rested his head on the bony chest. Draco and Ron were in the bathroom fighting over sink space and flicking water at each other, Sev’s hand was tangled in his hair. The whole long day overwhelmed him and after a few minutes, he was asleep. )*( The room is the same as always, his feet cool against bare stone and weave still shuffles back and forth. Now, he only watches and is not afraid, the pattern every growing, vibrant and strong. There is a woman, who sometimes visits him. She was once of the same bond, she says and now she is all of her mates in a single vassal. That day, when the weave is finished and the cats, the bird and the man are woven into a single form will be a triumphant one, but he does not regret that it is many years in the future and that the quiet hum of the loom will be in his dreams as steady as his lovers’ breath. )*( NOTES Harry's Spell: Da carne ad anima, lascila fondersi. Leghi lo spirito all'osso ed allo zucchino grezzi. Twine l'anima nella profondità della struttura umana. Deformi tutta l'alimentazione nel bianco. From flesh to blood, let it melt. Bind the spirit to raw bone and marrow. Twine the soul into the depth of human structure. Warp all power into white <<