4th June 1997

His pale fingers trailed over tanned skin; searching desperately for something that neither of them could name but both of them yearned for. It was as if they were made for one another. The way the smaller man's head fitted just into the crook of his neck and the way the other's delicate hands were the perfect size to be held within his own.

"I don't want you to go," the blonde bitterly spat out; clutching the dark-haired man closer to himself. "Why do you have to fight Him? Why not someone else? This isn't your war! It isn't even our war; it's the last generation's! Let them do it for Merlin's sake, why do you-"

Draco was silenced by a soft pair of lips on his and the watery smile of his lover.

"I know, Draco; but this war won't end if I don't turn up, and I'd rather die than let you live the rest of your life in it."

Draco tightened his clutch on his lover. "Don't say things like that!" His voice was harsh and pleading. "You will not die today! You will not. You are mine and I -" his voice was catching, and he was unashamed to see his vision blurring with gathering tears. "I better see you walking through those bloody doors, Potter," he demanded quietly. "I better see your cocky little grin and your ridiculous bird's nest of hair." His fingers clenched on Harry's arm wrapped around his torso. "Merlin, Harry, I love you so much. Please don't die, just Merlin-"

There was a wet warmth on his neck, and Draco belatedly realised that Harry was silently crying into his shoulders. Gently, ever so gently, his shaking fingers tilted Harry's chin so that he could gaze into Harry's emerald eyes. Capturing his image in Draco's mind forever. "Promise me this, Harry, please."

"Draco, please! I can't, I can't promise something like that!" Harry cried out whilst his fierce emerald eyes begged his lover to understand.

Draco only felt his heart lurch at Harry's words. "Please, darling," he begged quietly. "Didn't Dumbledore preach about love for years? How the Dark Lord doesn't understand the importance of love; he doesn't realise its power? That's your advantage over him, your power to to worm your way into everyone's hearts, and hook your little claws into our heartstrings so that we can never let you go. So promise me that you'll remember my love and fight with everything you have."

Silence reigned in the cold room, the dark red bed hangings dipping dolefully into the centre of the bed. "I'll never give in," Harry's quiet voice vowed vehemently into the darkness. "I'll fight with everything I have. I won't let Him win!"

"Good," the word fell from Draco's lips, but it tasted hollow on his tongue because his Harry, the boy who he had loved since he was fourteen, the boy who he had seen grow into a man during their years together, the boy who he had promised himself to, the boy who saved him from losing himself in the Dark, was going to war in just under an hour. He was going to face the most evil man in the history of wixen kind and Draco could not even convince himself that he was going to survive.

"Gods, I love you so much," he breathed into the silence of the morning, and the blanket around their naked bodies could not warm the chill that had seemed to permeate into Draco's very being.

"I know," Harry answered, breathing little puffs of air into his neck. "Because I love you as well."

I love you.

Who knew that those eight little letters, forming three innocent words, could make someone hurt so much?

It was approaching fast… The dawn before the new day and Draco could just make out the first rays shining through the tower window. His heart clenched once again. The precious time left with Harry was trickling by quicker than he could blink.

And then those dreaded words fell from Harry's beautiful lips. "I think it's time that we left," and Draco couldn't help but tighten his grip on Harry. "Draco," Harry impored and he hated the reluctance in his lover's voice but did relinquish his grip on the raven-haired man; following him to where their clothes lay on the ground from their previous night's performances.

Draco's quicksilver eyes took in the deserted dormitory with a sneer. The Hogwarts House which was renowned for its bravery had left their 'saviour' to battle alone. Not even Weasley was around; although, that was probably because holed up with Granger somewhere, and Draco couldn't bring himself to fault the two for that.

"Shall we go then?" Harry asked, standing there in all his beautiful, noble, foolish glory.

Draco shook his head and motioned for his wonderful Harry to walk towards him once he saw the frown which marred his face. Harry complied, and Draco whipped his arms out to pull the smaller man flush to his body. He could only look into those wide emerald eyes for a couple of seconds before he crushed his mouth to Harry's.

Immediately, Harry's mouth opened and Draco moaned at the feel of his devilish tongue entwined with his own. He could vaguely feel Harry's nails digging into his back and his left hand instinctively rose to bury itself in Harry's hair whilst the other gripped his waist tight. The only thing Draco could focus on was the feel of Harry and how much desperation and love he could pour into this kiss.

After all, this was the last time they could touch before the war ended.

Their last kiss.

It was Harry who broke the kiss. His flushed face was full of overwhelming despair. Raising a hand, he brushed a thumb across Harry's cheek and smiled a bittersweet smile at the desire he could see reflected on Harry's face.

"Come on Potter," he drawled; desperately attempting to assemble his 'Malfoy mask' for the public they would encounter.

Leading his way down the cramped spiral stairs, Draco sneered at the lack of Gryffindors in the common room. Yes, those younger than their fifth-year had been sent home but Draco expected for at least some of them to remain and fight. Had they no loyalty? To Hogwarts? Their fellow wix?

Looking into Harry's green eyes that had dimmed, Draco knew the same thoughts had crossed Harry's mind also.

"Bunch of cowards," he muttered softly and began to pull Harry gently along with him and out of the portrait hole, but a surprising voice stopped them once the door had closed.

"Wait! Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy!" a familiar falsetto called and the two men dropped the other's hands as if burned to see that it was the Fat Lady herself calling for them. "Now now," she tutted, eyeing their hands with a sad smile. "I've known about the two of you two since your fourth-year and I have yet to tell anyone, so hold each other's hands, as small of a comfort as it is."

Immediately they did as she said but mistrust boiled in Draco's gut. "Why?" he asked, "Why haven't you told anyone?" The woman merely rolled her eyes at the man and then sighed dreamily.

"True love m'dears. I would never interfere with something so pure. After all, was it not Shakespeare himself who said; let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments'[1] ?" she peered at them with inquisitive eyes. "I just wanted to wish you good luck with your future. I know that you will be happy in the end, even if all appears lost." Her face hardened and the finality in her tone made Draco idly wonder whether the woman had seer blood in her when she was alive.

"T-Thanks," Harry stuttered out; his grip on Draco's hand tightened to an almost painful level (although he'd never complain) and Draco nodded curtly at her.

"Think nothing of it m'dears," she smiled mischievously. "Now hurry along; there's an evil megalomaniac to defeat after all."

"Oh yeah, sure," Harry muttered with the beginning of a pout forming on his lips before a thought struck him. "Excuse me, Lady, but if you do not mind asking what is your actual name? I've never thought to ask before."

Almost immediately a joyous smile stretched across the portrait lady's face, "I do not mind at all my dear, I always knew you were a thoughtful boy," she murmured softly. "I will tell you when I see you later."

Harry made to protest but Draco silenced him with a kiss. "We really must be going." He urged quietly.

"Yes, of course we do," Harry's voice was distant as he led Draco to the staircase, after calling out a 'goodbye' to the portrait. The stairs seemingly knew the urgency of the situation, despite the two wizards' reluctance, and they soon found themselves in the empty entrance hall.

Soft, nervous chattering could be heard from the Great Hall, and Draco could hear McGonagall;s distinct Scottish brogue barking out orders.

"So, this is it," Harry grasped Draco's clammy hand tighter.

"Yes," was all Draco managed to say, but no words needed to be said at that moment for they knew what each needed to say.

"McGonagall is defending the castle with the remaining students, the only offensive is from the Order and from the Aurors-"

"I am fighting," Draco interrupted, knowing exactly what Harry was hinting at, "No Harry, if you are risking your life to defeat that bastard, then I will do the same to ensure that none of his followers are left standing."

"Promise me you'll never give in then," Harry said, those tortured emerald's telling Draco that he finally understood what Draco was telling him earlier.

"I promise," he murmured and punctuated the vow with a chaste kiss to Harry's lips.

Dropping each other's hands with sad smiles, they strode towards the large oak doors with determination painted across their faces, as they took in the faces of the weathered Order and the bone-white masks of their foes.

Death, death, and destruction anywhere the eyes could see.

The astronomy tower lay in ruins. Falling debris littered the earth below and crushed all those who were unfortunate to be captured by its destruction. Blood painted the grass, and bodies were strewn throughout the grounds, disfigured from mud, filth, and blood.

Draco had lost sight of Harry a while back. He thought that he was somewhere amidst the throngs of Death Eaters. Or perhaps before that bastard himself. Draco cursed his traitorous thoughts and cursed the Death Eater coming his way with a cutting hex.

"Dragon," a simpering voice called from behind him and a chill ran down his spine at the familiar voice.

For Harry. Fierce silver eyes locked upon frigid ice blue. "Father."

"It has been an age since we last spoke, Dragon," the man chided and Draco could not control the shiver that racked his body at his father's pet name for him. "It is to be expected of course, ever since you aligned yourself with Dumbledore and his fools. But, tell me, son, since when did you bed filthy half-bloods?" Draco's blood ran cold at his father's words. "Tell me Draco, is he good a bed-warmer? Does he tell you he loves you whilst he-"

Anger clouded Draco's vision, and adrenaline coursed through his veins.

"Sectumsempra!" his voice rang out loudly; his fury intensifying the curse to frightening levels and Draco tried not to gag at the sight of his father's arm bleeding extensively through his clothing.

Shock, pain, and rage flitted across the Malfoy patriarch's face before he too raised his wand. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Flinging himself onto the ground, the Unforgivable curse flew overhead and struck another victim. Draco could only hope it wasn't an ally. Dirt filled his mouth. Heavy, earthy, dense on his tongue but he still managed to continue with his next spell. "Expelliarmus!" Quickly standing to his feet, Draco spat the mud from his mouth and pointed his wand at his father.

"Dragon, don't!" Lucius commanded roughly whilst cradling his heavily bleeding arm to his chest.

"Tell me why I shouldn't end you now?" his voice cold and hard, and Draco could practically see the cruel calculating glint in his father's eyes.

"I know where your precious half-blood is," the ever-familiar sneer once more on his face. Draco dug his wand into his father's neck, causing the surrounding skin to whiten through the loss of blood, and his silver eyes narrowed in a concentration of suspicion and anger.

"And why should I believe you?"

"Because if you do not take heed, Dragon, then our Lord will kill him soon."

Oh, Gods no. Draco's heart constricted painfully. "Where is he?" he aimed a swift kick to his father's ruined arm and smiled grimly at the pained grunt Lucius made. However, before his father even had the opportunity to answer his son, a scream tore from his throat.

Glancing around, Draco saw that all the Death Eaters were in a similar state to Lucius, and it suddenly dawned on him as it did the rest of the wixen on the battlefield. "He did it, by Merlin, he did it!" He's alive, my Gods, he's alive!

Draco couldn't help the wide relieved smile that stretched itself across his face whilst he glared down at his father. "You've lost, Father."

Yet as the cheering crowds continued, the icy grip on his heart would not relinquish itself, and the grip only tightened at the cold languid smirk which crossed Lucius' face. "I would not be so sure on that, my dear Dragon, your dear half-blood will be food for the acromantula by now, did you not know that they were on our side?" Lucius' self-satisfied grin only fuelled the cold dread in Draco's heart.

"You're lying." The words sounded hollow even to his own ears, and he couldn't stop the tears pooling in his eyes.

"Is it not fitting that the filthy half-breeds which reside in the forest are the ones feeding on your half-breed?"

"The Forbidden forest?" Draco murmured. I need to find him, I need to find him!

Draco sprinted towards the ominously towering trees of the trees, his father's cackling laughter echoing in his ears.

"Harry Potter, come to die," [2] the rasping voice of Voldemort greeted Harry as the dirtied youth arrived in the small clearing. "You were always such a noble boy, Harry, just like your parents. They were noble; noble and foolish. Your father thought he could duel me, Harry. Can you believe it? And your mother begged me to take her life to spare yours. So, so noble, Harry.."

"You're wrong, Tom," Harry spat back at the crowing Voldemort. "My father never thought he'd win against you, he sacrificed himself to buy my mum more time. My mum sacrificed herself for me and I bet that that fact must hurt you. That my parents, who had magic and life in spades, fought for me and died for me and yet your parents didn't even try? Is that why you're such a bitter and twisted man? Because you were abandoned by your Muggle father and squib mother?" Harry questioned, his voice light, as he regarded the elder wizard with pitying eyes.

"CRUCIO!"

Harry quickly ducked out of the curse's way and grinned slightly to himself at how easy it was to push the meglomaniac's buttons. "Is that all you have, Voldemort? A crucio?"

"How dare you, Potter! You dare to insinuate that I am weak? I am not weak! I am invincible! Immortal! It is time for you to die, Potter."

For Draco. "You're not immortal, Voldemort. Not any more. You're just a normal, mortal, wizard."

"What!" The word was snarled with venom as he glared at youth grimly smiling before him.

"It is just like I said, Tom. You're mortal. All but one of your horcruxes have been destroyed."

Ruby red eyes took in the defiant form of the teen. "So that is where you and your little friends have been doing for the past year, and here I thought that you were mourning for your dear, dearly departed, Headmaster."

Harry did not rise to the bait. "Dumbledore destroyed your ring before sixth year even began, I destroyed your diary when I was twelve, Ron destroyed your locket, Hermione - a muggleborn - destroyed your cup, and Draco destroyed your diadem. Does it hurt to know that you are so predictable that a group of teenagers managed to destroy your only chance at eternal life?"

"You foolish boy; I still have another I am still immortal!" he snarled; circling the youth, who easily followed the movement with his eyes, before shifting to follow the man.

"She is being dealt with as we speak, Tom. Nagini will be no more soon enough. " Harry did not pause long enough to watch the shock colouring the man's face. "There's only you and I now. So tell me, how sure of you that you are going to survive? Because I have the power the Dark Lord knows not and I am sure as hell not going to let you win! EXPELLIARMUS!"

The elder wand, bathed in centuries of blood and death, flew into its true master's waiting hand.

"I can perform wandless magic, Potter. Did your precious Headmaster not tell you? For shame." Voldemort sneered but yet was interrupted by the cry of a bird - a phoenix. And a strange sense of déjà-vu fuelled Harry as the proud Fawkes presented himself before Harry once again with the Sorting Hat, before offering a trill of beautiful song and leaping into the sky.

A high, cold laugh reverberated through the clearing, as Vodemort realised exactly what Harry was holding. "A song-bird and a hat? By Merlin, what good is that going to do you, Harry? What worthless parting gifts."

Harry only stared grimly at the taunting Dark Lord and drew a few short deep breaths in.

For Draco. For his future, his life, and his enchanting silver eyes. For those dimples when he smiles, his musical laughter, his beautiful blonde hair, and his frustration, endearing snarky attitude. Gods, I love him.

He breathed out.

And in.

And out.

He surged forwards.

The sword of Gryffindor was clenched tightly in his hands.

Harry didn't even notice the shock on Voldemort's face as he plunged that sword deep into the Dark Lord's abdomen.

Time seemed to slow, and the hideous gurgling erupting from Voldemort's throat seemed horrendously loud, and Harry was much too close to even think about missing the eerie green curse flying his way.

I'm sorry Draco, but I can't keep my promise.

And Harry knew no more.

Sighing softly to herself, Hermione cast one last look at the glazed yet enraged ruby eyes, forever frozen in their final glare, before glancing at the sword lodged in man's torso. "Like the bloody sword in the stone," she mumbled, fighting the urge to giggle hysterically.

She had somehow survived the final battle. So had Ron; he was currently in the hospital wing having his leg re-grown. That's twice that he's had that done now. Her lips twitched in exasperated amusement as she idly recalled their third-year encounter with Snuffles. Since Ron was currently incapacitated it was just her overseeing the Auror's removal of Voldemort's body - she did not trust the Ministry to not do something stupid with the corpse.

Harry will be with Draco, of course. The thought was quite clear. After all, Draco and Harry had been almost inseparable since fourth-year, when the Slytherin was the only one (bar herself, of course) who believed that Harry hadn't entered the Tournament. Since then, their friendship had grown even stronger, especially after Draco refused to take the Dark Mark. Merlin, she could still remember the sight of his battered body when Harry carried him through Headquarters' front door. Merlin, the look on Ron's face!

Now as a witch - who had done frightfully a lot of things in her short life, thank you very much - Hermione Granger would say that she had seen many a thing, but the sight of Draco Malfoy covered head to toe in mud, grass, and blood was something she hadn't expected. Then again, she was hardly one to talk, considering her own state of clothing and the blood and matter that clung to her bushy hair in congealed clumps.

"Where is he? Where's Harry?" the blonde fired the questions off as soon he was close enough, and she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. Before Hermione could question him, Draco continued. "He must be somewhere near here! Lucius said the forest, and Voldemort's dead, so where is he? Where is he?" Draco's eyes flickered erratically from left to right, before he himself spun in circles.

"Draco, calm down!" the witch snapped but regretted it immediately when those lost silver eyes locked upon her own. "Harry is not here, and Voldemort's body is over there; Harry killed him with the Sword of Gryffindor. I don't know where Harry is but there isn't any extra blood, so he isn't wounded. So, that's a good thing. He has probably gone back to the castle," she tried to reason but Draco's eyes seemed almost dead to her.

"Not bloody likely, I have just run from there now, and if anyone saw him do you really think that they would leave him alone? No, they would gather around him and he would smile that bashful smile unless he was annoyed and then he would glare at them and tell them where to shove their busybody's noses! So, he must be somewhere here!" He shouted and eyed the Aurors with suspicious eyes. He almost seems as if he is in – not surely not, I would have noticed.

"You may have missed him, Draco; Harry is pretty good at avoiding people."

"He would not avoid me! He would see me first; I would be his first priority! just as he is my first priority," he rambled' his wide eyes searching the area. "And the only reason why he would not do that is if he was not alive, but he has to be alive. He promised me that he would survive this damned war!"

"Draco, you're not making any sense," Hermione attempted to get the blonde's attention, but he was beyond reason. "DRACO!" she screamed, as the blonde continued with his own self-torture. "I truly am sorry for this, but I need to get you a calming draught. STUPEFY!" and with a sigh, she levitated the blonde to the hospital wing.

"Ron! Gods, Ron, why didn't I listen to Draco?" she cried into her boyfriend's shoulder, and the red-head could only pat her awkwardly on the back from his position on the bed. "He said that Harry was missing and I didn't listen to him! He's been missing for hours... I'm an idiot, I should have listened to him!"

"Hey, hey," Ron whispered softly, "You're not an idiot, Hermione. You said that Mal-Draco was hysterical; he obviously needed a calming draught. It's not your fault that Madam Pomfrey mixed the calming draught with dreamless sleep potion, is it?"

"But I should have listened! Draco is usually right about anything concerning Harry!"

"Yeah, the little creep that he is," her boyfriend muttered quietly, "But you have to understand that it is not your fault."

"But-"

"But nothing!" His voice unusually firm, "You are not to blame yourself, Hermione. So either stop that now or go to sleep. Harry will come back to us… He always does." The witch nodded silently, but her tears didn't stop as she cuddled into Ron's shoulder.

25th June 1997

"Draco. Draco stop!" Hermione ordered and physically placed herself between the blonde and the door. She was on 'Malfoy-watch' (as Ron had dubbed it), ever since the two had discovered him frantically searching the Forbidden Forest for signs of Harry's whereabouts once he woke from his potion-induced sleep. Worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, she cautiously broached a subject she had been shying away from the past couple of weeks. "It's been three weeks now Draco, perhaps you should consider that Harry may not-"

'SLAM!'

Draco's hand was braced against the wall beside her, and then the witch nearly flinched at the fury on the blonde's face. "How dare you even suggest that Harry is not alive! Of course, he is alive! He's Harry Bloody Potter! He doesn't break promises and he doesn't bloody die!"

The poorly-concealed look of chastisement on the witch's face did nothing to calm the blonde down. "I was not suggesting that Draco," she stated with a frown. "I was going to say that I don't think that there are any clues left in the forest; you've been scouring it for weeks now!"

A withering glare was shot in her direction. "I am sure that is what you were going to say," the words were layered with as much vitriol as the word 'mudblood' he spat out in second year.

"Now, Malfoy," Ron cut into the conversation, and Draco only transferred his venomous gaze from Hermione to her boyfriend. "You may be Harry's mate, but we're his mates too!. So don't think that you're the only one going through Hell at the moment. We both know exactly what you're feeling."

The look of disbelieving horror on the blonde's face, made Hermione think that maybe they knew nothing about what the blonde was feeling at all.

"Get out of my face, Weasley!" Draco spat out viciously. "You know nothing so don't even attempt to. I am sure it would be far too strenuous for you." the insult fell off his tongue as naturally as breathing, and judging on the rather red visage Weasley was sporting, Draco thought it a job well done.

However, before the redhead could even think of retorting, a new presence made itself known.

An oh-so-familiar saccharine sweet voice, calling that dreaded pet name – Dragon, rang loudly across the room and all occupants stiffened upon seeing the haughty, regal, form of Narcissa Malfoy (looking almost resplendent in her robin egg blue robes) standing in the doorway.

The fierce glare Draco directed upon the woman informed Hermione just how unwelcome the woman was, and she herself couldn't help but narrow her eyes in disgust at the older woman. How she escaped Azkaban, Hermione couldn't care to guess, not with the number of foul atrocities the woman had committed.

"And what do you want, Mother?" Draco questioned harshly whilst stalking towards the woman with poorly-concealed rage.

The woman was undeterred at her negative reception and merely smiled serenely at her son. "Why it is simple, Dragon. I just want you to come home. After all, I have not seen you since you were fifteen."

Hermione couldn't help but interrupt with an unnatural sneer upon her face. "Yes well, maybe if you hadn't helped your husband curse your son to a pulp, then maybe he would have been more… accommodating."

Narcissa's smile didn't falter in the slightest. "I am sure that I have no idea what you are insinuating, mudblood." And the smile only grew wider when both Ron's and Draco's wands rose to aim at her.

"Leave now, Mrs Malfoy, before I force you," Ron threatened quietly from the bed. The dark look on his face spoke volumes about how exactly he would force her to comply.

"Now, now, there is no need for needless threats, Mr Weasley," she simpered and closed the distance between herself and her son. "Though, I did not expect anything less considering your… quaint upbringing."

Ron snarled soundlessly from the bed and Draco roughly grabbed hold of his mother's arm. "Mother! Stop this and leave. You are not welcome here."

"Oh, my son," Narcissa crooned piteously and rested a cool, oily, gloved palm upon his cheek. "I do so wish that you would come home." Draco would have been convinced if it were not for the fact that he knew this woman extremely well. She did not dwell on such a sentimental notion as 'home'... Yet the idea of visiting the Manor did seem appealing.

His mother's voice swiftly cut through his thoughts: That's right, Dragon. You really do want to come home.

Draco distantly heard himself audibly agree: "Yes, let us visit the Manor," before his mother guided him from the room; leaving two bewildered but highly suspicious Gryffindors behind.

"Come along, Draco," Narcissa encouraged with venom. "Someone is looking forward to meeting you."

Through a foggy haze, Draco found he could not string any coherent thoughts together. His limbs felt strangely heavy - unyielding - foreign. He found that he could not defy his mother's will, and he most definitely could not fight the imperious which had immediately been cast upon him once they cleared Hogwarts' wards.

Blearily, his eyes twitched open slowly. He regretted this instantly as the stinging rays of bright light pricked at his retinas like searing hot pokers. Hissing out a breath, he raised a lead-laden arm to his burning eyes and groaned even louder, but the amused chuckle from beside him had him stiffening and leaping to his feet. And then, almost immediately, staggering and falling onto his knees.

"Do not fret so, little human," a soft voice murmured from above. Harry only tensed further at the words. Little Human? There weren't many magical beings aiding the Order in their plight against Voldemort, so this did not bode well for the man despite the warm tone in the voice.

"Ah, I can practically see everything you are thinking, little human," the voice murmured still with that infuriating amused tone, "No, I did not help fight Lord Voldemort, however, I am eternally grateful that you defeated him. I dread to think what I would have done if he ever found my children." Harry could practically hear the shudder of fear in the voice.

Glancing up from between his lashes, Harry attempted to take a peek at his mysterious admirer, but from his position on the floor the only thing that the man could see were four hooves. A centaur? Blinking rapidly to clear his sight, he crawled onto his feet and looked into the weathered yet kind face of a female centaur.

Feeling insignificant under that knowing stare, Harry nervously shoved his hand through his hair and offered a sheepish smile to the centaur. "Erm… you're welcome, I guess," he muttered, blushing madly in mortification. Great going, Potter; real smooth. And Harry couldn't help but realise his internal voice sounded exactly like a certain snarky blonde he knew. "Wait… So Voldemort's gone now. I really killed him?" At the centaur's solemn nod, a relieved smile stretched Harry's features. "Thank Merl-" but he faltered, as a traitorous thought crossing his mind, "Do you, erm, know if anyone died? Anyone I knew?" he bit his lip and his wide bottle-green eyes reflected his shame and fear. Why wasn't that my first thought? Draco, Hermione, Ron. They should have been my first thoughts.

The centaur smiled a soft smile, "Are you referring to your friends Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, or are you asking about a certain Draco Malfoy?" Harry silently cursed the centaur as he felt his cheeks warm in another blush.

"Erm, all three?"

"Well then, I am delighted to tell you that all three are alive, little human," the centaur told him, smiling wider at the happiness that instantly blossomed across Harry's face at the news, and at the hand which roughly wiped at his eyes. "But if you would allow me, little human, could you tell me how you are here?"

Here? He thought in confusion, as he took a good hard look at his surroundings. They were standing in a spacious yet sparse hut, with a table, trough, and bed of hay being the only objects in the room. "Erm…"

Seeing the confusion on Harry's face, the centaur woman smiled apologetically. "Sorry, little human, I believe I was quite unclear. Mars has been shining bright for years now. However, I knew on the night before the battle that it would end the next sun-rise, yet I knew that I could not interfere. I saw you defeat Voldemort and I saw you die. I dragged your body into the trees but then not only a moment later you were breathing once again. I was flabbergasted. I have never come across any creature that wakes after death, but yet here you are.'

Harry's mouth fell open in shock sometime during the centaur's speech. "I take it you do not remember?" she asked upon seeing Harry's expression.

"No." Harry shook his head emphatically, "The only thing I can think of is my mother's protection, but that ended when Voldemort took my blood during the tournament," he murmured absently, before recalling something Dumbledore told him when he was younger, "He transferred some of his own powers to you the night he gave you that scar'[3] " And then all at once, the horrifying realisation struck him.

That's why I can speak parseltongue, and why our wands were brothers….Dumbledore must have at least suspected from second-year!

The overwhelming feeling of betrayal and nausea almost crippled him, as he fell to the ground and tucked his knees tightly to his chest

"Little human?" the concerned centaur called, her quizzical blue eyes checking him for any signs of injury. "Are you hurt?"

"I guess you could say that," he said, horrified to hear his voice catching in his throat. "I… I was one of Voldemort's horcruxes." Somehow, it felt so much worse to say it aloud. "That's why I survived, because Voldemort destroyed his soul-piece; his only chance to live again. Gods!" Harry believed that he was quite entitled for the bubble of hysterical laughter which escaped him at this point; it was much better than dwelling on the alternatives.

"I'm sorry, little human," the centaur solemn and empathetic.

Harry just shook his head at her words. "It's not your fault but how did I not notice? I had a piece of His soul in me for over sixteen years. How could I not realise?"

You're such a fool Potter.

"I know little of human magic, little one, but what I do know is that these horcruxes you speak of are advanced magic. They are tainted magic, and you have the purest of souls, so I am not surprised that you didn't know. A child such as yourself should not need to know of such evil things."

Harry did not answer, and the centaur just continued on, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. "Though that would explain why it took so long for you to wake up. You did have a head injury but that shouldn't have caused you to slumber so long." She paced the mud floor as she spoke, and Harry's brows furrowed in worry. "However, if you had housed such abhorrent magic then I suppose that, once the taint was removed, your magic exhausted itself purging itself from any lingering taints."

Harry supposed that made sense but he couldn't help but interrupt the centaur's musings. "How long was I asleep for?" he blurted out. The centaur spared him a glance, her eyes wide in surprise.

"Oh, the sun has set twenty-six times since I brought you here," she answered lightly and Harry mentally did his maths before gasping.

"But that's nearly a month!" He cried out. Oh Gods, what about Draco? he questioned frantically, scrambling over to the windowsill. "I promised Draco that I would survive but I've been gone for nearly a month! He must think that I'm dead!"

"You have not broken that promise, little one," the centaur's serene voice broke through Harry's panicked mind, "Promises are powerful things, especially between mates."

"But I've been gone nearly a month! A month where I should have been with him, celebrating, and finally telling everyone that he's the love of my life!"

"And there is nothing you could have done to change that," her voice firm. "However, there is something you can do for your mate, for he is suffering at this moment," The change in Harry's stance was immediate, as he stiffened and turned furious eyes onto the centaur.

"And why was this not the first thing that you said?" he managed to question between clenched teeth.

"Because you were sprawled on my floor looking quite lost for yourself," came her simple reply. "Now, calm down so that you can help your mate," she instructed and smiled when he nodded and took a rather large breath of air. "Your mate is engaged to be married today."

"WHAT?!" Harry thundered, betrayal piercing his heart in a million places. "What? Why? Why would he do that?" He can't have moved on already; he loves me!

"It is not of his own volition. His mother has cast some sort of spell that you humans use to force people to do things they do wish to."

"The Imperius curse?"

"Yes, that is the one," the centaur nodded in agreement, "And I do not believe that the bride is willing either. I do not know if she is suffering from the same curse but I am certain she is not there of her own choice."

Harry nodded curtly. "Where?"

She smiled, "Why, outside of the school of course! It looks almost as good as new now - quite beautiful actually."

"Do you know what time it starts?"

"I do believe the ceremony began a few moments ago," came the centaur's light response, but her eyes were hard with purpose.

Harry made a dash for the door, the beginnings of a 'thank you' on his lips, until he realised that did not know his helper's name. Blushing with embarrassment once more, he opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted with another chuckle.

"My name is Adeline, little one, and it has been a pleasure to meet you," she smiled down at him, "If you take a left from this dwelling, you shall find yourself in a large clearing - do not worry, the other centaurs shall not bother you. Carry straight on for a mile or so, and you shall find yourself at the border to your school."

Harry bowed deeply at the waist, remembering some of the etiquette lessons Draco once bored him to death with. "My eternal thanks and gratitude, Adeline. May the stars watch over you and your own."

Before she could even reply, Harry had disappeared.

30th June 1997

Draco did not know how long he had been locked in his childhood bedroom but he could make a rough estimate. It cannot have been longer than a week - that he could be sure of - but he did not know the exact day.

The only thing he possessed of his own now were his thoughts. His mother saw no point in casting the imperius upon him once he was contained within the Manor. He had attempted to escape several times but to no avail. He could not even reason with the house elves since his mother had slaughtered all but Dawlly, the oldest, and most zealot Malfoy elf.

Narcissa appeared by his side. A vision in periwinkle robes of the finest quality. Her cold blue eyes assessed his still form and a cruel smile was fixed upon her otherwise beautiful face. "Oh, Dragon, it makes me proud to see that my son has grown into such a handsome man, especially on his wedding day. How lucky little Astoria is."

"No!" his hoarse voice cried out desperately. The mere thought of being unfaithful to his Harry had tears springing to his eyes.

"Oh, yes, Dragon," Narcissa crooned and cast the familiar unforgivable upon her son.

Oh, how he hated this woman. How could she do this to him? He knew that she was an awful woman, but to force her only son into marrying a woman he did not love? It was disgusting. And the fact that poor Astoria had only just turned fifteen…. Gods, he wanted to crawl into a pit and never come out again. He had known Astoria nearly her entire life; she was like his little sister, and the thought of marrying her, forcing her into bed (for that was what he would be doing since she was most definitely not willing). It was barbaric.

Draco desperately tried to fight down the vomit that was crawling up his throat.

Regardless of the fact that he was undeniably, unequivocally, irrevocably, in love with Harry, and none of this was his own will, he knew that he could not bear to be the reason for Astoria's tear-filled hazel eyes.

If he could, he would sob but instead the imperius forced him to stride towards his mother and pull her into a hug. Her cold, cruel blue eyes stared into his.

You will marry Astoria. Her command echoed in his mind, and his legs moved towards the door even though he was screaming on the inside until it felt as if his throat was being ripped raw. He fought tooth and nail for control of his own mind, but he was not Harry and he could not fight it. So, his legs were still moving towards the Manor's apparition point; a delighted smile etched firmly on his face as his mother's hand gripped his arm and he was whisked away in side-along apparition.

He inwardly snarled as the woman leaned her lips close to his ear. "Wasn't it lovely for Professor McGonagall to allow you and Astoria to marry here?" she questioned, and her cruel nature was hidden for the world to see behind those sweet smiles of hers. "It is such a shame that your precious Severus couldn't it make it. Though, I suppose death is the kindest thing the Dark Lord could have done for a traitor!"

There was no outward change to his appearance but Draco was screaming at her in his thoughts. How dare she even utter Severus' name? He was one of the bravest and kindest men Draco had the honour of knowing. Having Narcissa even dare to speak his name, let alone disparage the man, had him snarling internally

Just keep smiling, Dragon! This wedding is taking place. Narcissa's orders oozed inside his head; creeping across his mindscape like a cancerous web. "Hogwarts looks delightful does it not Dragon?" she enquired loudly, and Draco hated to agree with her but the sight of the castle was indeed lovely. Strands of white ribbon were looped gracefully around golden chairs, which were placed in an ordered fashion beside the glittering great lake. The sun was shining warm rays onto the gathered guests, and even the birds were singing.

No-one would have guessed that so many had perished here less than a month ago.

Narcissa led him down the aisle, ignoring the chattering guests who were staring at them with happiness, curiosity, and - in Granger and Weasley's case - open suspicion. "Is it not beautiful, Dragon? To see all these people gathered here to see you marrying the love of your life?"

No, Gods, no! Draco's heart felt as if it were fit to bursting, and it felt as if poison was pumping through his veins. He truly was going to be married to another - not Harry! Not Harry! Not Harry! - and he wished that he could feel the tears that would surely be running down his face if he was in control of his actions.

"Of course, I forgot," she whispered lightly, after releasing a delighted trill of a laugh. "You are in love with another are you not? With that filthy half-breed," she smiled widely at his seemingly happy face, "Yes, your father told me everything. This is our way of ensuring that you won't do anything rash." His silver eyes narrowed at her back, and a wave of excitement dwelled inside his soul, he was regaining control, however small it may be. "Now turn to face the bond-wizard, Dragon, because I do believe the beautiful bride has just arrived."

And her magic wound its way around him, forcing his own weakened one to submit under her own, and made it comply with her wishes; all with that damned smile on his face.

Music flared into life, and his narrowed eyes took on a near murderous shine. This was his favourite piece of music, he knew his mother knew that. It was just one additional maneuver of spite to hurt him.

It succeeded.

The music was mournful, which Draco supposed was fitting, but it was hauntingly beautiful. So he just closed his pained silver eyes, and let the music wash him away to bittersweet thoughts of his Harry.

Thoughts like when they shared their first dance at age fourteen. Harry was still smaller than him, so his head had rested comfortably upon Draco's shoulder and his waist was at the perfect height to pull him flush against his body. He remembered how those tantalising lips had reached up, and pressed themselves against his in a quick peck, before Harry ducked his head down with an adorable blush staining his face. Gods, I promised him all those years ago that he was the only one. How could I be standing here without him?

The music ended, the chattering ceased, and the bonding-wizard was smiling happily at him.

Take a look at her, Dragon; she is to be your wife soon. His mother's order was venomous.

Heavy breathing at his elbow and Draco's heart clenched at the frightened picture Astoria made. She was beautiful - there could be no doubt about that - but she was so young and so small, barely even meeting his shoulder. He couldn't bear to see those usually vibrant hazel eyes staring at him in a mixture of fear and resignation.

He always knew that she had a crush on Colin Creevey (not that she would admit it to anyone, mind you) and he also knew that, like him, she wanted a love match, not a political marriage.

Instructed by the bond-wizard, they both turned fully to face one another, and he tried to express to Astoria how sorry he was through his eyes. He could only hope, from the small, tremulous smile she sent his way, that she understood.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the marriage between Draco Lucius Malfoy and Astoria Melanie Greengrass," the bond-wizard's speech was magically enhanced for the congregation to hear. "Holy matrimony is not to be entered lightly, but rather reverently, discreetly, and solemnly. If any person can show just cause as to why these two wixen may not be joined together – let them speak now or forever hold their peace."

Silver eyes met hazel and both their breaths stilled for anyone, someone, to speak up.

Silence reigned for a couple of seconds, and Draco's heart continued to beat its poisoned beat when he saw the bond-wizard open his mouth to continue. He dared not turn to see the triumph shining in his mother's eye; he couldn't bear it.

"Well, I think that I have something to say!" a breathless voice declared, and Draco's heart almost skipped a beat at the sound of the owner. Harry!

The gasps that escaped the entire crowd only affirmed his thoughts. Harry! And there he was at Draco's side - where he should always be - looking as beautiful as the day he met him.

"Draco Malfoy is under the imperius curse, you fools!" Harry thundered loudly, and if Draco could, he would be rolling his eyes at the shocked and horrified gasps from the crowd. "STUPEFY!" Harry exclaimed and Draco's eyes closed in happiness once he saw his mother collapse onto the ground.

Almost immediately, her toxic magic released his own and he sagged with relief at the feel of his magic and body being his own once again. Turning on the balls of his feet, he eagerly ran his eye over his Harry. His hair was as devilishly disheveled as always, his clothes were stained with mud and dirt, but it was Harry, and he was here, and alive.

Harry's face played with a mischievous smile. "Oh, and there's the small matter of Draco Malfoy promising himself to another when he was fourteen," Harry declared delightedly to the crowd, with the widest smile on his face. "A magically binding promise, and he always keeps his promises."

"That I do," he found himself agreeing and the smile on his face was one of pure joy. "Come here," he commanded whilst crooking his finger at the smaller man. Then, without further ado, a grinning Harry Potter ran into Draco Malfoy's arms, where their lips eagerly met one another's in a greedy kiss. And if Draco's tongue just so happened to slip into Harry's mouth, who was the crowd to judge? Because Harry's sinful tongue soon entwined itself with his own, in a filthy, desperate kiss where they poured all their desperation and love into one another.

A short while later, they pulled away from each other. With a short laugh, Draco pressed his forehead against Harry's and just drank in the sight of his beloved.

"I knew it!" Granger exclaimed wildly, and most of the crowd stopped staring at the two lovers to instead stare at her as she had jumped out of her chair and clapped her hands loudly. However, the red blush that swiftly stained her cheeks, quickly had her slumping back in her seat and burying her face into Ron's neck.

"Erm, Harry?" Ron's nervous voice called out, "You alright, mate? Y'know you've been missing for a month now, and now you're suddenly kissing Malfoy, did you hit your head or something?"

No-one else said anything, but Harry took in their curious expressions with a small smile.

"As a matter of fact, I did hit my head, but a lovely centaur healed me up perfectly and I've been in a sort of coma for the past month or so. As for me suddenly kissing Draco," Harry grinned at his red-haired friend whilst entwining his fingers with Draco's own. "Well, I've been doing that for a few years now actually," and as if to prove his point, he gave Draco a chaste kiss on the lips. "Sorry for not telling you but if his family found out all Hell would've broken loose."

Ron snorted loudly, "Yeah, and that went really well for you mate, didn't it?" he declared whilst waving his hands at the wedding decorations surrounding them. Draco couldn't help but snort quietly at Ron's logic.

"Oh be quiet, Ron!" Hermione snapped and slapped him playfully on the arm.

The sound of shuffling behind Draco, reminded him of exactly who was there. So with a soft kiss to Harry's hair, he broke away from him to look at his friend who was crying softly to herself. "Tori," he murmured and crushed the small girl in a hug. "I am so sorry, small fry, that my mother involved you in her wicked machinations. I don't know how much your parents were involved-"

"They sold me off to your mother, Draco," she whispered in a pained voice; hot tears involuntarily leaking from her eyes and onto his dress shirt. "I was just a piece of meat to be sold off to the highest bidder. "

"Oh, Astoria," he tightened his grip around her shaking form, "I don't know what to say," he murmured softly. "Wait! Where's Daphne? Your parents haven't done the same to her have they?" his worried silver eyes quickly searched the crowds for the familiar blonde girl.

"No." Astoria shook her head and Draco let out a relieved breath. "Blaise took her away as soon as the battle ended." She hugged her arms around her waist. "They were going to come to get me afterward but F-Father got me before they could."

"I see," He intoned deeply and Draco vowed there and then that he would grab that waste of space Patrick Greengrass and curse him into oblivion. How dare he do this to his own daughter?

"Yes, well, that's enough weeping," she stated briskly, and straightened her spine to stand at her full height. "Now, go be with lover boy. I'll be fine," she instructed sternly and Draco heard Harry release a delighted laugh from behind him.

Unashamedly eavesdropping, is he?

"Fine," Draco acquiesced, eager to hold Harry in his arms once more. "But only if you go speak to Creevey; he is moping about by that magnolia bush."

"Fine!" Astoria scowled up at her pseudo-brother. "I am not going to even bother asking how you know about Colin," she declared impetuously. " I'll take my leave now." And with that, she hiked up her skirts and flounced away towards the bush Draco had singled out.

"You're so sweet when you're around your friends," Harry whispered in his ear, making Draco shiver in anticipation at the feelings that voice invoked in him.

Raising a pale eyebrow, he grabbed the raven-haired man closer to himself. "Do you want to see exactly how sweet I can be?" the question was blatantly laden with innuendo and accompanied by a saucy grin.

A shiver racked Harry's body. "Merlin, yes!" he breathed out and eagerly began pulling Draco towards the castle, whilst ignoring the catcalls and cheers from the crowd, and definitely ignoring the cocky, satisfied grin on his lover's face.

Late the next morning, after hours of lovemaking, tears, and whispered declarations of love, Harry and Draco climbed out of the portrait hole and saw the gentle smiling face of the Fat Lady of Gryffindor. "Hello m'dears," she greeted kindly. "I knew that it would work out in the end. Fingers tightly intertwined, they both wore giant smiles. "So it did," Draco readily agreed.

Harry fidgeted impatiently by his side and Draco raised an imperious eyebrow at his lover. "Well, go on then," he encouraged with a pointed glance at the painted lady.

"My lady," Harry began with a slight hesitancy "Forgive me, but will you please tell us your name now?"

"Oh, my dear, of course you can," her voice was warm and her soft smile was pretty on her face. "My name is Iolanthe Peverell, but all my friends call me Aphrodite."

Draco and Harry both stared at her in amazement as she released a laugh like the sound of tinkling bells.

And as Aphrodite gazed back at the two men before her she knew they would be loved; she knew they would be great.

[1] William Shakespeare. Sonnet 116.

[2] J. K. Rowling. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

[3] J. K. Rowling. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.