Author's Note: The tally was extremely close, but I think I got something that'll make everyone happy.

Disclaimer: I want s'mores. Harry Potter doesn't have s'mores, so for the moment, I don't even want it. …Okay, that's a lie. I still want it, but that doesn't make it mine! Yeah, I know, damn.

Warning: Language. Violence. Slash. Non-slash. (Male/Female)

(***Bellatrix Lestrange***)

It was with renewed strength that Bellatrix crawled over to the Dark Lord. If Potter knew of her plans then the Dark Lord certainly did. And he would be proud of her and her accomplishments. He would want her once more, forever more.

"Milord?" Deep crimson orbs looked down. His long, aristocratic fingers ran through Bellatrix's hair gently.

"You've done well, Bellatrix, but can you tell me why you were at Hogwarts, away from Rodolphus?" His voice rolled over her in waves as she snuggled against the side of his leg. He was asking her for show, obviously.

"I ran away to please you, Milord. You see, I've exchanged magic with Lucius, and I needed Severus's help to complete the transition. I'll be more powerful, just for you, and more loyal than Lucius ever dreamed of being." The Dark Lord understood. He knew what she was doing was best.

"But didn't I tell you to stay with Rodolphus? Didn't you disobey me by going through with your plan?" Bellatrix's eyes widened as she looked up into the calm, uncaring eyes that she loved. The hand didn't leave her hair.

"Yes, Milord, but you must understand! I only-" She stopped speaking as the hand tightened. Why wasn't her Lord pleased?

"Must I, Bellatrix?" The hand released her. "Don't think for a moment that Harry was joking about your warning. Pull something like this again, and you'll live to regret it." It was a threat that she had never heard before, and she was only hearing it because Potter had somehow hexed her Lord. She just needed to be more powerful. She just needed Lucius's magic. "Go and take your place by Rodolphus, and hope that your cousin doesn't hold too much resentment towards you. It appears that he holds some sway over your keeper." Something akin to fear shot through her. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't happening. It was a test. That was all. Her Lord was testing her to see if she would still go through with her plans. It was a test she was determined to pass.

(***Remus Lupin***)

Remus was neither shocked nor appalled at Harry's actions. He had expected worse results with all that Harry had gone through. As soon as Remus had gotten the chance to show his true self he had taken it, and the results had been disastrous. He had killed so many people that it wasn't even funny, and he had regretted it afterwards, but the fact wasn't that he was sorry, but that he had done it in the first place. Yet Harry expressed himself with a suave sense of calm which left no room for regrets. It was inflicting fear without pain, just as Harry had said. If nothing else, Remus felt like congratulating him. Kind but cruel, innocent but mature, the ultimate human being. That was Harry. Remus could only hope that one day the Boy-Who-Lived could find someone as wonderful as he. Somehow, Remus doubted that would happen. No one could ever match up to Harry Potter.

"Harry, come here for a minute, would you?" Remus beckoned the young man over and Sirius walked over as well. The watchful eyes of Voldemort followed them.

"Rise, my followers." Remus watched as the rest of the people in the room got to their feet, all seeming split between staring at the trio of do-gooders and staring submissively at the hem of their Lord's robes. Remus ignored them.

"I came here because I was with Narcissa when she was called. I have no doubt that Sirius was with Rodolphus at the time of the summoning, explaining his presence, but I don't have a clue as to who you were with." Harry simply shrugged at Remus's roundabout way of questioning him and jabbed a thumb behind him, towards Voldemort. Remus couldn't say he was surprised.

"I was ambushed by Ravenclaws, shocked and cursed into submission by Ginny, taken captive and, on a side note, being kidnapped is extremely boring, then she cast a Crucio on me, which was quite annoying, and the chains that held me started to burn. I really didn't feel like sitting through the burning because I'm pretty sure her next plan to get me to love her was rape, so I let the barrier in my mind down and he showed up. Next thing I know Ginny is dead and I'm here, give or take a few details." Remus raised a brow at the not-short yet not-long story.

"A few details?" Remus could never trust Harry with 'a few details.' They always ended up being slightly monumental.

"A kiss and a curse and a betrayal or two. The usual. Oh, and Tom and I are going to duel to determine who's stronger." A curse and a few betrayals were, indeed, the usual, but Remus didn't remember Harry getting kissed very often. Ever, in fact. Also, he knew from Harry's discoveries that Tom was Voldemort, but when had the two men gotten on such good terms? Remus certainly hadn't missed the Dark Lord calling Harry by his first name, either.

"Is it to the death or just to see who's stronger?" While he had many questions, that one was the most prominent.

"It depends on the mood at the end of the duel, I suppose. Most likely though, it's to the death. Nothing to worry about, Remus. If I die, I'm dead. If I don't I'm not." The easy way which Harry spoke of his own death, with such a soft smile, left Remus frowning.

"Harry, take your own advice and be careful, alright?" Remus whispered caringly. Sirius put a hand on Harry's shoulder, getting the boy to turn towards him instead of Remus. It was alright. Considering it was possibly the last time that either of them would speak to Harry, it was all fine.

(***Tom Riddle***)

Tom watched as Sirius Black spoke to Harry in soft tones. A few short hours ago things had been different, not by much, but still different.

Decision made, Tom placed one more kiss on the still trembling lips beneath him. In the end, Harry was just one drug he would have to do without. His magic wrapped around Harry as he prepared the incantation in his mind. It was time for that Boy-Who-Lived to die. The curse sat on his lips for a moment before Tom reminded himself not to drag it out any longer than necessary. Harry's death would be quick, before Tom could change his mind about keeping Harry.

"I know I'll be immortal. I don't care." Harry's soft voice stopped him. "You want to kill me to make sure I never become your equal, and that's all fine and good, but couldn't you do it the right way?" Tom stared down at Harry for a moment.

"And what, pray tell, is the right way?" Did Harry want to be tortured to death?

"A duel. Bring your Deatheaters together and we'll do this the right way. Let's see who's really stronger." And Tom agreed, if just for a chance to feel Harry's magic for a few more blissful hours. Another moment passed before Tom stood from his place on top of Harry and straightened his robes. With that done, the Dark Lord did something that he had never done before: offered help to another living creature. He offered Harry a hand. With a blink of surprise and a warm smile, Harry took the presented hand and was pulled off of the bed and to his feet, just in front of Tom. The urge to take him back to the bed and not rise again entered Tom's mind, but he brushed it away. He would not give into temptation again. He couldn't. If he did, he would never let go.

"I get it already. Now let me go. This has to happen eventually, right?" Harry soft voice broke through Tom's reverie.

"Yes, it does. And there's no time like the present, is there?" Tom pushed his own two cents into the conversation, ignoring the annoyed look he received from Black. He had been waiting for this duel for quite a while now, even more so after Harry's spectacular show of disciplining Bellatrix, and no one was going to mess it up.

"Sure isn't, but there is a place other than here." Harry wanted to take the fight elsewhere. With a smirk, Tom conceded.

"Where would you like to go?" It was going to be Harry's final battle, so it made sense that Harry should get to choose.

"An open area preferably. Perhaps we could go to a field?" The suggestion was taken into account, and Tom nodded. He easily expanded his magic over everyone, transporting them to a large field in Scotland. Immediately, his Deatheaters expanded into a large circle, sixty feet from every angle around Tom and Harry. Never one to sit back and wait, Tom immediately attacked.

"Confringo!" The blasting curse was dodged by a summersault to the left quickly followed by a quiet hex which, judging by the streak of violet flames speeding towards him, looked a lot like a one of Dolohov's favorite curses. Tom moved out of the way by simply leaning slightly to the right and pushing his left shoulder backwards. He didn't particularly feel like having his internal organs damaged beyond repair. "Diffindo." Tom whispered the spell, watching it soar in Harry's direction with amusement, not letting onto the fact that he was simultaneously, silently, casting an entrails-expelling curse and Expulso. Harry danced around the dangerous curses with unbounded grace, making sure to keep his distance yet still obviously creeping closer. Well, it was obvious to the Dark Lord. Then again, he did have fifty years on the boy. They both stood still for a moment as a portion of the ground shattered being Harry. Tom was giving him a chance to attack, but the younger male wasn't taking it. That was fine. If he wasn't in the mood to battle it out just yet, he soon would be. A Fiendfyre curse would make sure of that.

In an instant, an enormous serpent made of fire and flames shot from Tom's wand. It wasn't controllable. It wasn't safe. It was exactly what Tom was looking for. The elemental beast flew towards the Boy-Who-Lived swiftly, making a twisting turn in midair to follow the young man as he hurried out of its way.

"Aguamenti!" A jet of water shot from Harry's wand and met the beast head on. The flames were put out inches from the man's face. "Erecto! Relashio! Waddiwasi!" A large wall of stone emerged from the ground behind Tom at an alarming rate as fiery sparks shot from his wand, forcing Tom to relinquish his grasp on it. Small stones and clumps of dirt lifted from the ground and flew at Tom immediately after, but Harry didn't appear to be finished. "Petrificus Totalus!" Tom knew that he couldn't dodge everything, and even less so with the newly made wall behind him, and so did Harry. Harry also knew that Tom had little to no trouble doing magic without his wand, but after too much time it would hinder him. The simple spells would do nothing alone, but together, against the right opponent, they could be deadly. Too bad Tom wasn't the right opponent.

"Impedimenta." Everything started to falter, stopping and falling and altogether losing its effectiveness. Tom let his purely dark, unrestrained magic move to stop the body-bind curse. If that was how Harry wanted to play it, then that was how it would be done. "Avis! Incendio! Incarcerous!" The flaming birds sped towards Harry, Tom's own binding curse along with it. The difference was that if Harry dodged it wouldn't hit a wall. It would hit people. The kindness of the wall behind him didn't escape Tom; the fact that it wasn't only there to keep him in, but to keep everyone else out. Harry's only choices were to get hit or to let others get hit. It was obvious which one he would choose.

Surprisingly, Harry dodged, wand barely waving over the birds as he hit the ground and rolled out of the way. The young man's lips didn't move, but Tom saw as soon as the now disintegrating birds hit his followers that a flame-freezing charm had been cast. The only effect had been a few laughs and Parkinson dropping to the ground in ropes. Harry moved to point his wand but a silent Expelliarmus ruined that for him. Play time was over.

(***Harry Potter***)

The shift in atmosphere was almost tangible and Harry knew that his simple hexes and spells weren't going to cut it anymore. Tom was no longer willing to humor him. "Frigidus Letalis." Harry whispered the spell with determined eyes, watching Tom all the while. He wasn't to be trusted. The elder male dodged with ease and the green-eyed boy chanced a few steps forward. Tom had noticed it when he had tried to be stealthy, so he ditched that and just tried to get closer. He had to get closer. Silent spells, violent spells, were cast at Harry one after another, giving him absolutely no time to retaliate. He only had time to dodge, to move closer.

Harry knew for a fact that Tom was older. A spell whizzed past his ear. Faster. A hex nicked his arm. Stronger. The ground exploded beneath him, forcing him to leap over to solid ground, farther away from his goal. Smarter. Harry used his magic to block a hex that he hadn't thought existed. Far more experienced. Fire singed his hair. And all around better at everything. Harry also knew that all of those things gave him the upper hand. Because Tom was so much faster. Harry moved forward with speed he hadn't known he possessed. Because Tom was so much stronger. A one-handed flip landed Harry in front of Tom's forcefully discarded wand. Because Tom was so much smarter. He slipped the piece of wood up the sleeve of his robe in one slick move. Because Tom was so much better, Harry could win. Just this once. Tom knew that Harry was an amateur compared to him, so he would be underestimated. A single shot was all Harry would be given, as Tom was sure to only make the mistake once. If Harry screwed this up, it was all over. Tom would know he needed to watch out. Harry would be done for. So he took the shot.

There was no incantation. No words went with the magic, but he knew that the Dark Lord could sense it coming. With all of the strength he had, all of the magic he owned, Harry pushed his magic into a ball around the Dark Lord and squeezed. Physically, it did nothing to the man. Magically, it worked the same as when he had done it to Bellatrix. Well, almost the same. He just had to use a lot more – all – of his magic, and Tom's magic wasn't cut off, merely detained. To cut someone off from his or her magical core you had to be more magically inclined, and that, Harry was not. But he could stop Tom from attacking. Swiftly, Harry slammed his foot into Tom's chest as hard as he could. Still shocked from the prior attack which had happened a split second earlier, the Dark Lord fell. Before Tom could hit the ground Harry had his foot back on the elder male's chest, pinning him down while simultaneously pointing the Dark Lord's wand at said Dark Lord. Dark magic struggled to break free of pure, but Harry forced it down. But he wouldn't be able to hold it down long. The Boy-Who-Lived stared down into dangerous crimson orbs, the victor.

"Well?" Tom was waiting for the final blow. Harry wasn't one to disappoint. In one swift motion he stuffed the wand into the waistband of his pants under his robes and moved his foot from Tom's chest over to the spot beside Tom's other leg, parallel to Harry's other foot. Then he put his hand out to Tom, offering help up just as the other man had those few short hours ago. No one spoke. No one moved. Tom stared up at him. Harry stared back, a small smile on his features. He released the Dark Lord's magic. This was the final blow. Either they would put the feud behind them and work toward what they both knew was a better future or Tom would kill him. Either way it would end the battle, at least between them, and it would happen now.

The next few moments took an eternity to pass before; finally, Tom reached up and latched his hand around Harry's wrist. Smile turning into a grin, Harry returned the favor and pulled. Though his yank didn't do much considering Tom was monumentally larger than him, the Dark Lord got the hint and, using Harry as a sort of base, pulled himself up. That move put Tom almost as close to Harry as when they were kissing; Harry pressed flush against Tom's chest with barely enough room to breathe. Harry released his hold on Tom's wrist. Tom didn't do the same. If anything, he pulled Harry closer. Knowing he had absolutely no chance of winning in a physical match up, Harry just allowed his grin to turn into a slightly wary smile.

"Truce?" Could Harry finally have a side? A slow smirk made its way to Tom's face. Harry wasn't sure he felt very comfortable around that smirk, not on the Dark Lord, anyways.

"Truce." And then the taller man slammed their lips together once more. Gasps echoed throughout the crowd, but Harry barely heard them, his eyes sliding closed against his will. Tom's lips curled into a smirk against his own. It had only been a few hours since their last kiss, but it felt like years. Harry hadn't even realized how much he had craved the touch until he was on the receiving end of it once more. Their tongues didn't interact, but the possessive nature of the kiss was enough. Tom was claiming him. In front of everyone. And it felt good. Harry's eyes snapped open before narrowing. With his free arm, he shoved the man backwards. It was barely effective, only enough to get Tom to stop kissing him, and Harry was fairly sure that was only because Tom was allowing himself to be pushed back.

"How many times have I told you that I don't belong to you?" The smirk didn't leave Tom's face.

"How many times have I told you that we aren't equals?" The frown didn't leave Harry's face.

"I'm going back to Hogwarts." Harry didn't care how childish he sounded. "Classes to get to, homework to make excuses for, you know…" Again, he tried to yank his arm back into his possession. Again, he failed.

"Dismissed." The word wasn't directed at Harry though. As the loud cracks of apparition sounded throughout the area, Harry growled.

"Let go of me, Voldemort." Harry's voice was stern. The smirk that made Harry wary turned into a grin, and the emerald-eyed boy suddenly wished to have the smirk back.

"We've been over this before, Harry. Call me Tom." Surely those words shouldn't make Harry want to lean up and steal more than a simple kiss from the man. They shouldn't by any means. So why did they?

"Okay, Tom, I have something I really need to tell you." Dazzling rubies got closer and Harry could smell nothing but the musky scent that was Tom Marvolo Riddle.

"Yes, Harry?" No one should be able to make a simple word sound that suggestive, especially not Harry's name.

"Bye!" Harry was barely able to get the farewell past the lump in his throat before he forced his magic to swirl around him and take him back to Hogwarts. The last thing that the younger male saw before disappearing was an almost, dare he say it, predatory glint in crimson orbs. Somehow, even in the comfort of his own bed, Harry didn't feel any safer. The look had sent a message, and though he tried to ignore it, Harry knew inside that he had received the message loud and clear: The hunt was on. And Harry was the prey.

(***Lucius Malfoy***)

Lucius sat calmly in the meeting room in his home, leaning back in the thrown usually reserved for the Dark Lord. Severus was still against the wall, the room was still empty, but the burning in his arm was no longer present. The meeting was over. That mean Draco would soon find the letter and be arriving. Lucius estimated that he had a few hours before being found. Draco had never been the best thinker under pressure. That in mind, it was an understandable surprise when Draco burst through the overly large double doors of the room. Lucius, of course, didn't show this shock, but it was still there.

"Release him." The anger was clear in his son's face, and Lucius wondered for a moment if this was Draco's Gryffindor side. He dismissed the idea immediately afterwards as no Malfoy had even an ounce of Gryffindor in him.

"Insolent brat. Have you forgotten your place already?" The words were smug laced with light irritation. Nothing could bring him down.

"No. Have you forgotten yours? Voldemort is the Dark Lord for a reason, Father. He can tromp anyone without so much as batting an eyelash while you cannot." Lucius could tell that Draco wanted to yell at him, to scream profanities at the top of his lungs, and nearly congratulated his son on controlling himself so well. If it weren't for the fact that his son was currently in the process of defying him, Lucius may have done just that, with a proper punishment for allowing the elder man to see that he was restraining himself in the first place.

"I can do more than you can imagine." And, to prove his point, Lucius raised his wand and pointed it toward his son, a curse waiting on the tip of his tongue.

"I can imagine you doing a lot of things: torturing muggles, selling your soul for our fortune to be doubled, hell, I can even say that I was barely shocked that you kidnapped my lover!" There was conviction in his voice as he continued. "What I can't fathom is you being a father who gave a damn about his son." At that, Lucius bristled.

"I've done more for you than you'd care to realize, brat!" He had done so much for Draco. "I gave you everything you wanted! I gave you the best things life could offer, even allowed you to disgrace our household with a male lover who could never produce an heir! I was the best father you could have asked for!" A flick of his wand sent Draco flying against the wall, Lucius too angry to care about Severus's glaring eyes and condemning words. He had no sway over Lucius. It was his world now.

"No." Heavy coughing followed the word. "No, you weren't the best father I could have asked for. I could have asked for one that cared about whether I was happy, not about whether I was the best in my class. I could have asked for a man who could back up his words with talent instead of money. I could have asked for someone who was actually worth something." Draco lifted his eyes with a defiant glint in them. "I could have asked for Lupin." The mentioned name had the elder Malfoy's blood boiling. Out of the Marauders, the werewolf had always been his worst enemy, beating him in everything from academics to dueling. He had hated the creature like nothing else. He still did.

"Sectumsempra!" Lucius let the curse that he had heard so long ago slip from his lips without thought. His son would learn one way or the other.

(***Severus Snape***)

Severus was a calm man who never took action without wholly thinking the entire situation through first. Except for when Draco got involved. If the young blonde was in the equation than all of Severus's hard thought habits flew out the window. Usually, he hated that. This was no different. He didn't want to feel his insides twist as the hex which he had created flew towards his lover. It was meant to harm, to kill even, but not Draco. Nothing he ever did was meant to cause Draco any discomfort. Yet there it was: Severus's most violent hex hurtling toward Draco. In a last ditch effort to pretend it wasn't happening, Severus closed his eyes. He still heard the scream of agony, still heard the body slam into the wall and then fall to the floor. He still imagined it all behind closed lids. It was then that he remembered Lily's last words to him before she got together with Potter.

"I could never be with you because you said you would never leave me." Severus blinked back the tears of disbelief.

"And I didn't! I didn't leave you!" Why was she choosing that mongrel over him? It made no sense!

"No, Severus, you didn't leave me, but you closed your eyes when I needed you the most. You may as well have not been there at all." And then she turned and walked away. Lily had nothing more to say.

Charcoal black orbs snapped open. Not again. He wouldn't lose the love of his life again. Draco lay bleeding on the floor, a large cut across his chest. It would probably scar, if the boy survived at all. Anger mixed with fear like the most potent of potions. He couldn't lose Draco. He couldn't save Draco. What could he do?

"We are family, Draco. You should know better than to challenge that." Something snapped inside of the Potions Master. The man's son lay dying on the floor and all he could do was lecture? Without warning, Severus's magic swirled around him, begging to be used. It needn't have asked for long. No thought was given before the magic attacked the spell surrounding him, trying to break it and give Severus mobility once more. That point was never reached as Lucius waltzed over, holding Severus at wand-point. It was over.

(***Remus Lupin***)

Remus watched as Narcissa blew the door down with expert ease. She was a mother bear protecting her cub and he didn't plan on getting in her way unless absolutely necessary. A silent hex which knocked Lucius off of his feet, blood dripping out of unseen cuts told Remus that it wasn't necessary yet. She glanced over at the professor before rushing to her son. Remus took the liberty of walking over to Severus.

"Finite Incantatem." Remus let the spell slip from his lips without much haste. This wasn't his battle to fight. Instantaneously, Severus stood, a swish of his robes the only thank you given. Remus hadn't expected anything different.

"Episkey, Episkey, Episkey!" The minor healing spell slipping from Narcissa sounded more and more desperate each time, but Remus held himself back. He couldn't help them, not yet. This was what he had been dreading: the turning point. The family had to fight their own battles, even if it was taking place within the folds of blood which tied them together. As an onlooker, the only thing Remus could do was try to make sure things didn't get out of hand.

"Excelsiosempra!" Remus could honestly say he hadn't heard that curse in years, not since Severus had used it on James after a Quidditch match that the arrogant Seeker had won just a bit too easily. Lucius flew into the air, stopping only after hitting the ceiling, and Remus didn't even try to feel pity for the man. It had taken the Marauders ages to figure out that the counter spell was Accio, and there were four of them. The eldest Malfoy may have had his wand, but he was basically at the mercy of the Potions Master.

"Imperi-" Severus stopped Lucius's curse with one of his own.

"Crucio!" An Unforgivable against an Unforgivable. Lucius didn't stand a chance. There had been a reason that Remus had always strayed from picking on the man. A scream erupted from once still lips, and Narcissa's insistent muttering of the healing spell could barely be heard over it. Looking at the blood still flowing from open wounds, it wasn't working very well. With a sad frown, Remus walked over to her and took her by the shoulders, nearly blank grey eyes staring up at him from her lap. Tears dripped down Draco's face, though not from his eyes. Narcissa was crying. It was with a soft motion that Remus pulled her into him, forcing her to cry into his shoulder.

"Severus." Remus barely heard himself speak, but deep, black eyes clearly said the name had been spoken more than in his mind. "Let Narcissa take over, and take care of Draco instead, would you?" He was the Potions Master. He had to have something up his sleeve. Remus begged whatever entity existed to let the man have something up his sleeve. Quietly, the Cruciatus was dropped, and Severus made his way over, eyes focused on the blonde boy who was dragging in every breath as slowly and unsurely as death. Gently, the older man's hands slipped under Draco's shoulders and hooked beneathe the back of Draco's knees. Before he could be lifted, Narcissa jerked around.

"Not my boy! Not Draco!" Her voice shook with pain untold. "Please, not Draco. Anyone else. Please." Her arms gripped Severus's biceps, trembling all the while. Remus glanced past them to see Lucius regaining his breath. This needed to be hurried along. Severus paused or a moment, a moment he didn't have. Draco didn't have any more time to spare.

"Trust me." It was a command. It was a plea. It was a life. Tears were rolling quietly down pale cheeks like the softest of waterfalls, and Narcissa gave in without another word. Draco was rushed out the door a moment later, most likely to find a sturdy fireplace to Floo through. With a resolution in her eyes that looked just as dangerous as anything the Dark Lord could conjure up, Narcissa stood and walked towards her husband. Almost pleading grey eyes turned to Remus from the ceiling, expressing their cowardice thoughts. But Remus didn't move to help. This wasn't his battle. He did; however, stay and watch.

(***Draco Malfoy***)

Draco could have laughed at his predicament if it didn't hurt so much. There he was being cradled like the most precious of porcelain dolls in the arms of the man he only recently figured out that he loved. The reciprocated emotion was obvious in Severus's eyes, making the young Malfoy wonder how he had missed it before. Perhaps he just hadn't been looking? Silver eyes closed against their master's will as Draco felt the familiar sensation of Flooing overcome him. He was so tired.

"Don't close your eyes, you insolent child. If you fall asleep there's no guarantee you'll wake up again." Severus's voice snapped at Draco, but the Seventh year barely heard the older man's harsh words. He certainly didn't process what they meant.

"Gess wh't." His mouth was dry, tongue sitting heavily in his mouth and slurring his speech. It was so hard to speak. Warm air hit Draco's neck as he felt himself being repositioned, half on a hard, flat surface which Draco assumed was the floor and half on the Potion Master's lap, head being held up by a warm hand.

"What?" The tone was less harsh now than it was in the last batch of words, and Draco took that as a good sign, though he couldn't quite remember what it was that Severus had said either time. The sound of a bottle being uncorked met Draco's ears, and he silently wondered why Severus was still working when it was clearly time for bed.

"Love you." Draco wasn't really sure whether the words left his mind or not, but the grip which his longtime lover held on him tightened ever so slightly.

"Stupid boy." Draco wasn't sure what the words meant as they jumbled before meeting his ears, but they didn't sound bad. If anything, they sounded slightly choked, as if Severus was having a hard time saying them. A moment later, warm lips connected with Draco's, and a strange liquid poured into his mouth. Draco didn't have the strength to fight it, merely trying his best to swallow instead.

If people were to walk into the potions lab in the deepest depths of Hogwarts's dungeons at that moment, they would see the hard-hearted Potions Master kneeling on the dusty stone floors, tears cascading down his cheeks. They would see a Deatheater giving the kiss of life to his most precious person just a moment too late.

(***Bellatrix Lestrange***)

Bellatrix stared up at Rodolphus from her place on the floor, her cousin standing beside of him looking unsure about the pain which he had been putting her through.

"Um, Rudy, are you sure it's alright to-" But those aristocratic brown eyes only spared Sirius Black a glance before focusing lazily on her once more. This was her punishment for running away, as if being a bloody muggle wasn't enough!

"It's perfectly fine, Sirius. She shouldn't have run." Another curse that Bellatrix didn't recognize hit her like a ton of Thestrals. Pain shot through her body, and she screamed, Rodolphus's disinterested eyes burning a hole in her skull all the while. He really was a near-perfect Pureblood. And she hated him for it. She wanted to kill him, and show her Lord that she was better. She wanted Rodolphus dead. Her wand groaned under the pressure she was putting on it as her hand gripped tighter, scream still ripping itself free of her throat only to be trapped forever in her mind.

"But Rudy-" This time, Bellatrix cut her cousin off her cousin with a laugh, a laugh that her scream was echoed in. Sirius looked over at her, obvious dislike, obvious concern shining in his eyes. She wanted him dead, too. She just stared back, a maniacal glint in her own.

"I'm sparing her life because you're here. Don't ask for more." Rodolphus was always composed. Rodolphus was always correct. Rodolphus was always what she needed to be more like. But as he pointed his wand at her once more, all protests of her cousin silenced, she didn't want to listen. She didn't want Rodolphus to be better at anything. She just wanted to hear him scream. That was all she wanted: to hear him scream before watching the life drain out of his near-perfect-Pureblood eyes. And then she could.

The power which she had given and the power which she had received suddenly multiplied, alerting her of Lucius Malfoy's death. Considering that she didn't kiss the man again, it was the only answer. He must have made Snape make the potion, drunken it, and gotten killed. The high-pitched laugh got higher, lost more sanity. She didn't care. Rodolphus could take on plenty of separate power sources and get away without a scratch, but with her and Lucius's – A Black's and a Malfoy's – magic combined into one entity there was no way that he could defeat her. Not in a battle of the wills. Yet the stark hilarity of her situation wasn't lost on Rodolphus. Bellatrix wasn't out of touch with reality enough to believe that it was. But that didn't matter. The power was hers, and her wish was about to be fulfilled. She was going to kill Rodolphus.

(***Sirius Black***)

Sirius felt her power flare, feeling far different, far more dangerous, than before. Storm grey eyes widened, barely processing Bellatrix raising her wand against Rodolphus. As an Auror, he knew that he needed to stop her. As a friend, he knew that stopping her in the middle of an incantation could seriously harm Rodolphus. Unfortunately, his friend-side won out over his Auror training at just the wrong moment. He didn't throw a hex to stop her. Luckily, Rodolphus had no such qualms. The two incantations met in the middle, forest green and sunset blue streams of magic fighting for dominance. Sirius's eyes widened as the green began to win out, as Bellatrix's new mix of magic began to overpower Rodolphus's. Never before had it been remotely possible in Sirius's mind for Bellatrix to beat Rodolphus. And really, it wasn't Bellatrix who would beat him, not her magic alone. She could never do it alone. It was only the mix of two powerful, ancient pureblood families coming together that was beating out Rodolphus. Pure bloods mixing was more than a boost of power for the child, it was a whole new world. In this case, Bellatrix was the child. Another spark and the green pressed harder against the blue, causing a deep-throated growl to pry itself from Rodolphus's throat. He wasn't happy.

Rodolphus Lestrange. The man's deep brown orbs glared at Bellatrix as she began to stand. Sirius Black. Again, the green magic pressed against blue, forcing Rodolphus back a step. Black and Lestrange: two dark, Pureblood sources of magic. Suddenly, Sirius remembered their kiss. It was everything dark that he had known existed being brought to the surface, mingling with the rest of the world; untapped Black magic. Lestrange magic was far more powerful than Malfoy, that much Sirius knew, and Bellatrix was from a branch family of the Black Household, so Sirius knew his magic was stronger than hers. It was the solution they needed; the only solution they had. Not giving himself time to back out, Sirius grabbed ahold of Rodolphus's collar, waited just enough time for the man to turn towards him, and crushed their lips together.