Triumvirate

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the songs included in this fanfic nor do I make money off them. These stories are for entertainment only





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So what if you can see the darkest side of me?

No one would ever change this animal I have become

Help me believe it's not the real me

Somebody help me tame this animal I have become

Help me believe it's not the real me

Somebody help me tame this animal



Animal I have become - Three Days Grace



~

Ron felt the pulse of his ring, drawing him from slumber and groggily opened his eyes. “Harry?” he mumbled, dropping his head back to his pillow.



“Don’t you dare go back to sleep Ron” came the imperious voice of his best mate and lord.



“Five more minutes” Ron mumbled.



The blankets flew from him in a flash, “Get your redhead out of that bed this instant Ron!”

Ron was on his feet so quickly he swayed, “Blimey, no need to get snaky about it. I was tired is all” he defended, “Where are my socks, this floor is freezing!”



He hopped around for a moment before meeting the green gaze in the fire.



Harry held back his chuckle, “Hermione will be entering France soon. I want you and your team to escort her back. Our work in France is all but done. Leave Blothsbury and Malcom behind. They can tie up any loose ends.”



Ron nodded, “When does she get here?”



Harry pondered that, if Draco kept his hands to himself they would be there sooner. He knew his precious third would see her safely back no matter that he was currently sleeping with her.



“Two days Ron. You’ll have to move fast, the death eaters will be right behind her.”



Ron nodded, jerking his clothing into order, his team would have to be briefed, have to prepare.



“She ok?”



“Yeah, now. They used the Cruciatus on her Ron.”



“Bastards! How’d she get away?”



“I sent help.”



Ron blinked, “Who’d you send? Not Neville?”



“No. Simply put Ron, I sent the Third.”



The red haired man looked like a gaping fish, “The Third? As in the Glorious third?”



Harry nodded through the fire. “ I have only one Third.”



“But I thought that was just a legend! I thought it was a made up position to honor Sirius’ memory!”



“No Ron. He’s very real.”



“Who is it?”



Harry didn’t want to have this discussion right now, “You’ll see soon enough and I will explain everything when you return. For now, for their safety, I can’t.”



Ron nodded, shoving his hand through his bright hair, making it stick up in all directions, “This war is getting bloodier by the day Harry” he said softly.



Harry knew that, but as the new Dark Lord, he wasn’t allowed to openly sympathize. “I know. Get to work.”



He began to fade from the fire as Ron hunted up his socks.



“And Ron?”



“Yes?”



“Comb that rampant hair of yours.”



Harry’s dark chuckle echoed softly in the room before the fire popped and he was gone all together.



Ron made a face at the grate, “Bloody spooky. You know that?”



Then he pulled on his boots and went to gather his team. They had some serious work to do.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Harry sat alone in his study, a green drape drawn around Narcissa’s portrait. He didn’t want to keep her awake but he also wanted to be alone.



Draco and Hermione.



She was correct, he had known about it. But he wasn’t sure he liked it. Knowing that two of his lovers were now lovers. It made for an odd balance.



Granted he’d touched neither one in some time. Anyone in some time. He had been her first and he had once thought to be her only. Then Snape, the great blooming bat had wriggled his way into her affections.



What had she seen in him? What did she now see in Draco?



Harry did not consider himself to be gay, on the whole the thought of another man touching him made him want to vomit, but Draco…well, rare was the person, be they man or woman, who didn’t find him beautiful. He of course had been Harry’s first.



A drunken tumble in school. And then they had been enemies. Still, Harry had known once they’d fought and he’d nearly killed Draco and then learned his curse, that he could trust him.



Draco was not one to betray and the years of war had changed him greatly.



Harry didn’t think he would begin a relationship with Draco when he returned, more likely to begin with Hermione. He did love her. There were several prophecies indicating the nature of his heir.



If there was to be an heir, it would come from her, he decided. At one time he might have chosen Ginny…but no. Her own little rose glimmered in his garden, filling his heart with sorrow.



Now this new wrinkle made him uneasy.



Hermione and Draco. Were they lovers for now? Or lovers for always? He wasn’t certain. Neither one was known to throw such affections around lightly. What was he to do?



He supposed the best course would be to lay out the prophecies to both of them. He had no doubt that they would see reason. But reason and hearts didn’t always mesh and he wasn’t such a bastard as to forbid their happiness.



Merlin knew in the course of this war, they’d earned it.



That left the other option, to woo them both and create in every sense of the word the future the prophecy spoke of.



The Triumvirate.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Draco had been irritable all day. Snapping at the slightest provocation. Hermione was just as cranky as a result. Traveling for two days by car had not done them any good.



“I swear Draco Malfoy!” she growled at him from across the steering wheel, “Use that tone with me one more time and I will hex your naughty bits off!”



Draco glowered at her, “Naughty bits is it? I don’t think you will.. You enjoy those too much.”



She growled softly but turned her attention back to the road. The car hit another rut and she swore softly. Her poor bladder was feeling every bump and blow in this damned backwoods road.



Finally, she slowed to a stop and opened the door.



“Where are you going?” he called as she headed into the trees. He hadn’t meant to be such a bastard. He just didn’t feel well. His skin felt to tight, and he felt dizzy. All his senses felt as though they were covered by some thick fuzz.



“I have to pee” she shot back.



He leaned back against the seat, damn cold car. Not even a good heater. He closed his eyes. He punched the dash. It was his curse. He was losing this fight. That both irked and terrified him.



He knew that soon, the physical manifestation of his curse would take him over. And after that he was done. A fast slide into a hell unlike any he could imagine. How he hated his father in that moment.



A scream rent the air, ripping him from his dark reverie.



“Hermione!”



Draco was out of the car and running, branches slapping him, snow flying around him. Eager to get to her. He swerved around tree after tree until he broke into a clearing.



Death eaters.



Damn them, they must have been tracking them. They were gathered on the other side, just to Draco’s left. Hermione stood near the open area and Draco realized that she was on the edge of a cliff.



“Well, well if it isn’t Draco Malfoy. Pretty boy…. Murderer. Traitor.”



He turned to face Goyle and frowned. Goyle had his wand trained on Draco. His face a mask of malice.



“Lord Voldemort would love to get his hands on you.”



Draco lifted his hands carefully away from his body, “So take me. She’s not important anyway.”



Goyle laughed, “Don’t think so. See there is a prophecy about her. Says she will give an heir to the dark lord. So he wants her. So he’ll get her.”

“Like hell Goyle!” came an angry voice. They looked up to see Ronald Weasely on his broom, surrounded by Harry’s supporters. Wands leveled at them, anger in their eyes.



“Come here Mione” Ron called, holding one hand out to her, not taking his eyes from Goyle.



She inched towards him, her small hand stretching out, her eyes locked on Draco. He gave a subtle nod to her.



“Don’t move bitch” Goyle snapped. A dark haired female stepped forward and snapped out Cruciatus at Hermione.



Everything went in slow motion then. Harry’s supporters began firing on the death eaters and Hermione crumpled under the blow of the curse.



Draco saw her roll closer to the edge, reached his hand out. “No!”



And then she was gone, over the edge.



He didn’t think. Only reacted. He ran, shoving past Ron and the others shooting avada’s as he went to the death eaters.



“Not so fast Malfoy!” Ron shouted and Draco felt a hex sting along his spine but then his arms were open and he was sailing over the edge after her.



“Only four more times” he whispered into the wind. He closed his eyes and reached for Hermione's falling form.



The world went white and his body burst into fiery pain.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Ron was following him, leaning low over his broom. When Malfoy changed. Literally.



One moment he was a man intent on becoming a dirt dart and the next Ron had to jerk his broom to the side to avoid colliding with a shimmering white wall. Of flesh.



Pearly scales caught the light of the sinking sun. Wide wings of pale gold unfurled in the rushing wind.



Draco Malfoy… was…a…dragon!?