Spell Master

Author: Babychan

email: baby_chan1778@yahoo.com or babychan1778@yahoo.com

Title: Spell Master

Rating: R but it will become NC17 later

Series: Yes. Chapter 33/?

Parings: H/D S/N/L

Summary: The wizarding world is going to find out that Harry Potter is not the only one with awesome powers. Its a Pro-Slytherin and Pro-Draco fic. This is slash fiction. This is also the re-edited version.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all its characters do NOT belong to me :( (pout) I’m just writing for the fun of it. I get no money for it whatsoever



A.N. For give my mistakes. I reedited this chapter a hundred times. I think I got all the mistake out now. But I am no perfect. .

Spell Master



Harry glanced around as he walked into Draco’s quarters. Though it looked exactly the same, there was a totally different feel going into it. The last time he was in here there was the excitement of discovery. And fear of maybe finding another Chamber of Secrets. This time, there was the excitement of discovery too. The discovery of finding his family. However, there was also apprehension because this was *Malfoy’s* room.

And this time Harry *knew* it was Malfoy’s room.

Harry shook his head, despite the animosity expressed in the past, and the rumors about Draco and his insatiable lust, he was not afraid to be here with Draco.

Though the latter *did* make him keep up his guard.

Draco, on the other hand, was not excited at all. Ever since Potter just waltzed in here uninvited last time, followed by all of those Gryffindorks, Draco hadn’t felt comfortable in his own room. It didn’t help him any that when he walked in, he didn’t see his stupid Guardian on the tapestry of this main door either. Where that stupid snake slithered off to was a mystery to the young Malfoy. Nevertheless, not being able to find it was starting to piss him off greatly. The dereliction of duty was becoming a habit for the serpent as of late.

So with the absences of his Guardian in mind, Draco wasn’t surprised –as much as he was alarmed– when he noticed that the magical door to his bedroom was open.

That meant someone was in his room, for he always closed it before he left his quarters.

Without trying to alarm Potter, he made a quick scan around his living room to see if anything was misplaced.

Harry arched a curious brow as he watched Malfoy survey his room. He wondered if the blond always did this. But his inner thoughts were interrupted when that horrid, little pink-haired nightmare appeared in the veiled entrance of Draco’s bedroom.

Harry gasped in fear.

And Draco visibly relaxed.

“Take a seat, Potter.” The blond drawled, tiredly, as he gestured to the couches. He was exhausted after his long day teaching idiots, taking his own classes, coaching Quiditich, warding over detention, working for his father, and working for himself.

And if that wasn’t bad enough –because of Potter’s interruption– he still wasn’t done with today’s work!

Translating Harry Potter’s family tree was not even on Draco’s agenda today. Actually, it was the *last* thing he wanted to do on the night before the big Slytherin/Gryffindor match.

Because what he *wanted* to be doing was SLEEPING!

Harry sat on the couch closest to the exit and gave Malfoy a kind smile.

Draco frowned in return then turned around and sauntered toward his bedroom. “I’ll be right back.” He informed Potter then threw aside the veil and went inside.


Harry watched him go and saw Malfoy pat the little girl gingerly on the top of her pink head. It was a sweet gesture and something he wouldn’t have expected the blond to do.

As Draco walked into his bedroom, he absently started taking off his cufflinks. They were practically ancient and layered with so many protection charms that a person had to, practically, be a god to do him any harm. But there was a catch, he had to be were wearing the cufflinks for them to work.

Or at least have them on his person.

His father gave them to him when he was a child, but Draco rarely wore them because he felt that they were ugly. Almost as ugly as his homemade wand. But, now, his parents absolutely insisted that he wore them at all times. Not because he was the Spell Master. No, no one knew about that. It was because he destroyed the Dark Lord’s diary.

In Draco’s opinion, *that* little miscalculation in judgment was entirely *their* fault. If they would have just *told* him what that book was, in the first place, he wouldn’t have been so hasty to get rid of it.

With Nalta watching from behind, Draco stared at his reflection as he tossed the cufflinks carelessly on his dresser then started to tug on the knot of his tie. However, he wasn’t seeing anything. He was just going through the motions for he was lost in an inner turmoil. And that inner chaos went by the name of Harry Potter.

Draco could hardly believe it.

Harry Potter was in his room.

Again.

Even worse…

He invited him.

Not only that…

Harry wanted him to tell him about his family tree.

Draco gave a distressed sigh.

The blond toed off his shoes and un-tucked his shirt as he walked toward the nightstand beside the favorite side of his bed. There he grabbed a clipboard, a couple leafs of paper and a pencil-quill. He then stared at the mouthless nightmare that had been following him around the room, in the safety of his shadow.

“Nalta…” He pouted “This is such a bad idea on so many levels.”

Unfortunately for the Veela prince, the little monster only looked pleased to hear this.


`````````````````
When Draco reentered his commons, he immediately noticed Harry snooping around and staring at a picture which was knick-knacked in his bookcase. Luckily, for Potter the glass door wasn’t open and Potter’s hands were clasped tightly behind his back.

Draco’s brow pinched together, and he frowned. “What are you doing?” Because, really, looking that guilty, he had to be doing something.

Surprised, Harry spun around. “Nothing.” He confessed quickly with a quick shake of the head and a sheepishly innocent smile. “Just waiting for you.”

Draco did not look like he believed him.

Harry could tell what the blond was thinking, so he showed his palms to Malfoy. “Honest. I was just waiting for you.” He had seen Draco give the room a thorough once over before he sauntered into the bedroom so Harry figured that Draco was probably trying to set him up by leaving him here alone. “Ohh … I was also looking for Pagan too. But I can’t seem to find him.”

Draco scowled and his right eye started to twitch. That damn snake wasn’t back yet?! Where the hell could it be? And what could it possibly be doing?!

On the flip side Potter, apparently, had learned from Granger that it wasn’t wise to touch anything without permission in this room. And just thinking about that mudblood’s embarrassment was enough to curb Draco’s fury at Pagan.

Satisfied that his stuff wasn’t being defiled, Draco walked into the room and sat on the couch. The alabaster box was now sitting on his glass coffee table and with a bit of demonic wandless magic Draco opened it and summoned the leather parchment within.

Excitedly, Harry plopped in the seat beside Draco and started looking over the boy’s shoulder at his family tree.

“Umm…Potter.” Draco chocked out stiffly.

Harry’s eyes were wide with anticipation and appreciation. “Yes?” He squirmed a bit in his seat, getting closer to Malfoy so he could see the parchment at a better angle.

Crystal eyes tripled their size. Harry was practically sitting on his lap! “Since I left for my room….” He started with dark sarcasm. “Did you happen to discover that you, now, have the skill to read Veela,?”

Harry gave Malfoy a confused look. “No.”

“Then back the hell up!” The blond snapped as he scooted further away in the opposite direction. The NERVE of some people! Really!

Harry scowled as he did what Draco so rudely commanded. It wasn’t that he was listening to the other boy. It was because he didn’t realize that he was sitting so close to Draco! He was embarrassed. And disgusted with himself. How could he have not noticed?!

The two sat at opposite ends of the couch and glared, indignantly, at each other until Malfoy looked away and at the parchment.
.
“Now then…” The blond sighed as he re-read over the names weaved into the intertwining circles–purposely skipping his– and made himself comfortable on the butter soft leather. “And without further adieu, Harratio Jamestheous Potter, let us get started.”

“Excuse me...What?” Harry blinked with confusion. “Wh-what did you just call me?”

“What do you mean?” Malfoy replied as he glanced –frowned– over the edge the parchment and at the other boy.

“I mean…” Harry blinked rapidly and his voice wavered just a bit. “Wh-what did you just call me?”

Draco pinched his brow together in confusion. “I called you your name. What the hell did you think I called you?” Then to make sure, he quickly glanced at the leather in his hands. And yes, he got it right! And he was pretty sure about the pronunciations too, though because he was translating it from Veela, he couldn’t be 100% certain. Even so, he was pretty sure he got the pronunciation correct!

There were over two millions ideograms in the Veelan written language, but only 14 *letters* the Veela alphabet– and they weren’t Roman letters–. These few letters were supposed to cover *all* non-Veelan words. Unfortunately, they didn’t always spell things correctly. It took a bit of guess work. Therefore, when it came to the written language of Veela you either knew the language it or you didn’t because there was no sounding things out.

“Are you sure?” Harry choked. Because that couldn’t be right. His name was Harry James Potter. Not… not Harratio Jamesthe-whatever.

With only a quick and perplexed askance glance away from Potter, Draco returned his focus and glared at the boy beside him. “What do you mean ‘Am I sure?’ Don’t you even know your own fucking name?!” Draco sneered. He hated translating Veela into English. Especially when those words were actually someone’s name. Draco knew Veela, and he knew it well. It was his first language after all. Still, names tended to trip him up and Draco hated second guessing himself. More than that, he hated when people didn’t take his word.

And Potter’s doubt in his capabilities was really starting to piss him off!!

The raven-haired boy opened his mouth to answer Draco’s question, then snapped it shut. How could he possibly admit that he wasn’t sure and that he didn’t even know his *true* name. For an extremely uncomfortable minute, Harry stared at the Head Boy, then when Draco’s angry expecting gaze became too much to bear, he lowered his head until his face was hidden by his unruly bangs and whispered.

“….I thought I did.”

Malfoy could scarcely believe his ears. “What do you mean you ‘thought you did’?” He stuttered as he scooted to the edge of the couch and sat up rim-rod straight.

But Harry didn’t look up nor did he repeat himself. He just pinched his eyes shut and seem to cringe away from the question.

“Potter, are you telling me that you don’t even know your *own* name?!” Malfoy demanded harsher than he intended, but he wanted to know.

Still, Harry refused to answer.

It didn’t matter. He didn’t have to answer because his silence spoke volumes. Malfoy leaned back and seemed to collapse into the soft couch as he shook his head in absolute dumbfounded shock.

Many minutes of silence ensued. The stillness of the room consumed everything with a thick cloud of awkwardness. Malfoy waited and watched Harry struggle with this new bit of info. He, himself, was struggling with it too. He couldn’t imagine what Harry was feeling right now. So, silently, he watched as the raven-haired boy’s hands balled into tight, white knuckled fist and his breathing come out in irregular breaths.

How could Dumbledore be so cruel? Draco wondered in silence. Was it not enough that he left a defenseless child to be abused by hateful relatives? Was it not enough to hide the truth about his Mother? Hell, his whole fucking lineage! But to keep Potter’s *name* a secret too? Draco couldn’t even fathom why. In his Veelan culture, names were so important they were believed to rule you to the point of predicting ones future. To deny Harry this…It was not only cruel.

It was EVIL!

The blond glanced at the parchment in his hand. He wondered if he really wanted to translate the rest. Who knew what they would find? Even finding out that he was stuck in a Marriage Bond seemed like a minor betrayal compared to Harry’s newest deception.

But if Draco really thought about it, the Marriage Bond was just another one of Harry’s betrayals too. The other boy just didn’t know it yet.

*Yet* being the operative word.

Draco glanced at his betrothed and furrowed his brow. He wondered how Harry was going to take the news. He had been so preoccupied with his *own* feelings on the matter, Harry’s feelings weren’t even important to him. He wondered if he should keep the Bond from him. He wondered if it was best. Not just for himself. But for Harry too.

But that would make him a liar.

Not that lying was a great sin to the young Malfoy.

Hell, he lied every day just to stay in top form.

It was just that *everyone* Harry trusted lied to him.

About everything.

And even though Draco didn’t want Harry to know about the Bond… it *was* the other boy’s right.

Wasn’t it?

But would Harry *want* to know?

Now *that* was the million galleon question.

Draco knew for a fact that he was *much* happier before he found out.

However, before Draco was able to really contemplate that question, he felt a foreign emotion surge through him. Not unfamiliar, mind you. Actually, it was a feeling he understood best.

Anger

But this anger was so raw, so pure, and so consuming that there was no where else to go accept….

Out.

Draco narrowed his eyes and studied the air around Potter then widened them when he realized that they weren’t deceiving him. Potter’s magical aura was starting to manifest and solidify again. With the memory of what Harry’s power did to him in his bedroom a few weeks past, Draco quickly stood up and went back to his bedroom to retrieve his cufflinks. He could have tried to talk Harry down, but he wasn’t going to chance it.

Harry on the other hand, was lost in his own fury. Dumbledore lied to him about his fucking NAME!! He couldn’t believe it.

He couldn’t FUCKING believe it!

It made him so mad, he wanted to destroy something.

Anything.

But he couldn’t.

He was in Draco’s room. And he was fairly sure that the blond wouldn’t appreciate one of his destructive tantrums. Because Harry *knew* that he had destructive tantrums. So he just sat there, and tired not to touch or look at anything as he tried to get his fury in check. He had to, because from past experience Harry knew that looking at stuff or touching them made bad things happen.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t.

Get his anger in check, that is.

He could feel the rage boiling in his blood, getting hotter and hotter. Like a volcano about to blow.

In the bedroom, Draco thought about the books on peer mediation, and student/teacher relations that he read over the summer. Regrettably, all of those self-help books, on maximizing relationships, weren’t worth the paper they were printed on because, right now when it really mattered, they gave him *no* direction on how to effectively remedy this particular situation. Therefore, Draco had to correct this injustice the only way he knew how.

He had to lie.

He quickly put the cufflinks into his pockets and walked out of his bedroom and stared at the other boy as he pondered on this option.

Harry looked like he *wanted* to be lied too.

Not that he looked gullible. No, he looked…like he wanted –no *needed*– someone to make this right and explain Dumbledore’s dumb actions. He needed something to believing in.

Harry looked like he needed a *reason* why his name and *everything else* was kept hidden from him.

He also looked like any reason would suffice.

Draco knew that all he had to do, to convince Potter, was to say that Dumbledore’s betrayal was for his own safety and that his name was kept hidden because it probably had a locator charm on it that would interfere with the Fidelius Charm.

Malfoy didn’t know if that was true, but he knew that Harry would greedily accept it because he would *want* to believe it.

On the other hand, Draco’s fathers –both Severus and Lucius – would probably *kill* him if he passed up this chance to sway Potter to their side of the cause.

And Draco really didn’t feel like dying anytime soon.

Still, his parents believed that if the Purebloods were ever to come out of this war successful, (i.e. alive and not sent to Azkaban) they needed Potter.

Not to become a Death Eater, mind you.

But to free them from Voldemort’s servitude, which was pretty much all purebloods misfortune.

In other words, his parents needed Harry to kill Voldemort.

And *they* wanted to be the ones getting credit for getting rid of that bastard! Because if they didn’t get the credit, then they would probably be sent to Azkaban. No thanks to Dumbledore.

The bastard.

It was almost like the old man had a deep burning grudge against *rich*, pure bloods!

Malfoy’s parents felt that it was Dumbledore’s fault they were in this mess in the first place. If the old fool would have just told the world what a horrible person the Dark Lord was before he became all powerful, none of this Death Eater mess would have ever happened.

Malfoy watched the raven-haired boy take a shuddering breath and swallow a sob. When Potter crossed his arms, then changed the movement into him hugging himself. No, comforting himself. Malfoy just sighed wearily. What a mess this night was turning out to be. Harry looked so pitiful, and Malfoy couldn’t even fathom what was going through his head right now.

Nevertheless, this was the moment – the crossroad– they had been waiting for, for YEARS.

Draco knew that even he was going to play a part in bringing Potter to this point. Though he had honestly thought it would be much further in the *future*, and he thought that he would win the other boy’s affections with gifts and favors. Never in a million years did he think that Potter would go to his side because of Dumbledore and his big fat lies.

But as Draco watched Harry’s self hug turn into a bone crushing embrace around his own torso, the young blond knew that this moment was not about Dumbledore, his fathers, or the fate of the magical world. It wasn’t even about himself.

It was about Harry.

And Harry needed something Draco didn’t know how to give.

Or… didn’t *want* to give.

Still…Draco knew that it was his duty– as Harry’s betrothed– to make this right.

Even if he didn’t agree with his Great Grandfather’s choice, Draco was born and proud to be a traditionalist.

The young Veela prince had already known his entire life that he wasn’t going to be able to pick his own spouse. He didn’t even care. In his opinion, love matches only happened in fairy tales. He was alright with that. And with time he would have to be alright with this too.

He had no choice.

He was imprisoned in a Marriage Bond.

The young Malfoy also knew that their impending marriage was not going to be a secret forever, and if he didn’t start laying the foundations for their relationship now, Harry was going to make *his* life miserable in the future.

He’d seen enough unhappy arranged marriages to know that fact to be true.

And since the future was only a few tomorrows away, Draco might as well start planning for it now.

That was the Slytherin way after all.

So after a moment of deliberation Draco reluctantly walked over to the drawer which once held Potter’s magic bag and Voldemort’s journal. He pulled out a small item which was tightly wrapped in a brown burlap cloth and another item. A small silk pouch.

He sighed regretfully. He was really saving this item for when Dumbledore *really* pissed him off.

But Harry could have it; he halfheartedly decided.

It could be his first gift.

The first gift without any intentions, except to ease the melancholy around Harry’s heart.

With his parcels in his hand he walked over and stood in front of Harry. Then, with a tone of voice he usually reserved for his mother alone, he spoke.

“Harry, please calm down.”

The raven haired boy had already decided that he was going to ignore Malfoy. He was already pissed off and Malfoy’s usual cutting remarks about showing emotion would only serve to make him angrier. But that resolve flew out the door after Draco spoke. NEVER had Harry heard a voice so tender and… gentle.

Not from anybody.

Not even Remus or Dumbledore.

Draco fought the urge to frown at Potter’s shocked expression. Instead, he sat on the glass table directly in front of him.

Then for a good minute the two just stared at each other in uncomfortable silence.

Again Draco shifted his gaze away first. The emotions glistening in those malachite eyes was just… too much. “Listen Potter, I don’t think we should continue translating the tree.”

“What?!” Harry stood up and glared at the boy sitting on the table. “Why?”

Malfoy tilted his head back to look up at the irate boy. “It makes you upset.” Was the forced gentle yet *honest* response.

“I’m not upset!” Potter grit out as the air around him got thick with magical energy and his eyes glowed an unnatural shade of green.

“You’re not upset? Please.” Draco replied incredulously as he arched a knowing brow. “I wish I had a mirror. You should see yourself.”

The raven haired boy glared at Malfoy with malicious intent. His hands balled into tight fist. Harry decided then and there that if Malfoy rescinded on his promise, he was going to ‘go muggle’ on Draco and pummel his arse into the ground.

Draco sighed disappointedly as he observed Potters ire. He realized that reasoning with the other boy was not going to work. Though truthfully, he knew it wouldn’t. That was why he got his cufflinks in the first place. So as a last resort, Draco decided to ‘go Veela’ on him and entice him out of his anger.

The young prince looked away and toward his lap, as if in defeat, before closing his eyes. Purposely, he allowed his long blond lashes to flutter against his pale cheeks. And in a subtle demonic shift, he softened and androgynized his features.

“Are you going to hit me, Harry?” Draco asked softly, still not looking at the other boy. He tilted his head to the side, like his mother always does to get his fathers off their guard.

Harry’s breath caught in his throat by beautifully effeminate gesture, and he immediately amended his anger in a sigh, as he sank back into his seat on the couch. Draco looked so sad; it made Harry fear he hurt Malfoy’s feelings. I made him want to right the wrong.

“Look…Please don’t stop translating it….I’m not upset anymore. Honest.”.

It was a bold faced lie, and Draco knew it. But that was okay because Potter was calmer now. Draco knew this look would work. He learned it from his mother and practiced it until he perfected it. He used it all the time on guys to get his way when threats didn’t work. Especially on the straight one. It confused the hell out of them. Made them scared that they were gay.

Draco’s eyes twinkled as he thought about something. This was the prefect opportunity to confess without actually confessing. “Alright, I believe you, but…” He narrowed his ice colored eyes with innocent seduction. “What if you find out something… horrible…. Like…” He tilted his head to the side and pretended to ponder then exclaimed sarcastically. “What if you find out that somehow…we had some sort of connubial bond… What then?”

“I’d have to deal with it I guess.” Harry shrugged nonchalantly. He didn’t want to admit that he didn’t know what connubial meant. Though he had a sinking feeling that it truly was something horrible, just like Draco had said.

Malfoy gave the boy in front of him a long look as he tilted his head to the other side and pursed his lips. He couldn’t believe that Harry was acting so calm about being married to him. “Are you sure it will be so easy to deal with, Potter? It’s no secret that you hate me.”

“I like you well enough.” Harry admitted with a shrug, then quickly looked away. He didn’t want to see Malfoy’s reaction to his confession. Either way, it was true. Malfoy had been pretty decent to him this year. Better than anyone else. Save Neville. “Would the bond be reversible?” Harry asked to change the subject.

“No.”

The raven-haired boy bit his bottom lip. “Then I guess… we’d just have to live with it.” Harry bravely absolved with a firm nod.

“Even if that meant you were the wife?” Malfoy asked as he arched a curious brow. He couldn’t believe how well Potter was taking this.

Harry put his hand in the stop position. “Wait. What? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Our marriage bond of course…” Was the superior drawl. “And the fact that because of it you’d be *my* wife, and you’d *belong* to me.”

“Marriage bond?!!” Harry spat out with disgust as he shot to a stance. “I thought you said connubial bond?” He clarified incredulously with a look of pure disdain. The look also asked Draco if he was on some type of drug. Marriage bond indeed.

“Potter,” The blond snapped back. “What do you think *connubial* means?!”

“I don’t know!” He reluctantly admitted with wild hand gestures. “Not *that* obviously! Anyway,” He fumed angrily. “Why do *I* have to be the wife?”

Draco smirked and shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe you were supposed to be a girl. How the hell should I know, I wasn’t there.”

“Then if you weren’t there…Why do I have to be the wife?” Harry asked playing along, because Draco looked so serious. In a joking kind of way. He hoped. Harry sat back down and sank into the soft leather of the couch. “Anyway, how could one of us not be there if we are bonded?” Harry asked knowing that he was going to win this argument and that Draco would finish translating his family tree just as long as he kept up this rouse, and answered each question with the *right* answer. “Don’t bonds like that need blood or something to bind them?”

“Maybe we were promised by our Great Grandfathers.” Malfoy suggested mockingly. “They were friends after all.” He hoped that his disgust of this truth didn’t show. “Maybe they used their own blood.”

“Can you really do that?” Harry looked green around the gills.

Malfoy shrugged. Because it cut– no shredded– his soul to admit it.

“Why?” Harry asked seriously. “Why would they do that?”

Draco shrugged again. He had no idea.

The bastards.

The day he found out about the Bond, his parents had let him read the marriage contract. After snatching it from his father, Draco had read the marriage contract. Then read it again. And re-read it about a dozen more times looking for a loophole, until Lucius had to pry it away from his desperate fingers. His father then, reluctantly, admitted that he had been searching for a loophole since he found out that his unborn child was bonded to James Potter’s.

Unfortunately, there just wasn’t one.

Except death, that is.

And after Draco had feared he killed Potter with that Macedonian spell he wrote, he had already ruled that option out.

So now he was stuck…

In an almost-marriage he would admit, but pretend he wasn’t in.

“Just forget it, Potter. I was just making sure that you seriously wanted this translated anyway.” The young prince dismissed breezily. “I had to be sure you wouldn’t try to attack me again.”

“I didn’t atta— ” Harry took a deep breath and shook his head no. “So you were just testing me?”

“I had to make sure.” Malfoy smirked with false sincerity.

Harry narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side. There was something in Malfoy’s eyes that was a little too serious. It made him unable to let this discussion go. “But my mother was muggleborn. Why would your family agree to it?”

“Why are we still talking about this?” The blond frowned. “I told you to forget about it.”

“I’m just curious is all?”

“Fine.” Malfoy fumed darkly. “Why *wouldn’t* they agree to the bond? Are you insulting my family, Potter?” Draco asked with false hurt. “Or… are you insulting your own mother?”

“No! I would never insult her! ”Harry quickly assured with a twinge of anger “Why would you even say that!”

“So you *were* insulting my family?” Draco cut in firmly. His voice sounded harsher than the emotion he actually felt. It was done to hide his trepidation. Potter was starting to take him seriously and that was not good. It would be easier to sidestep the question, if Harry thought he was upset.

“No!” The raven haired boy assured, completely falling for the bait. “I wasn’t insulting your family either! I was just saying…” He paused at Draco’s expectant glare and thought about how he was going to word this. Because really, how do you word “Your family members are a bunch of Death Eaters!” politely?

“I thought you guys were all about keeping the blood…. pure.” He said instead.

“Then apparently you know nothing about us.” Draco replied snottily as he crossed his arms. He sniffed at Harry flabbergasted expression, and closed his eyes as he tilted his head back so his pointed nose raised high in the air.

Harry couldn’t help the laugh which escaped him. There were moments in this conversation where he almost believed Draco was telling the truth. That they were married or bonded or whatever. However, after that statement of the Malfoy’s being enlightened to the idea of “muddying” up their blood he dismissed all fears of the being Bonded to the boy. Draco Malfoy had his moments of being a nice guy, but generally, he was be biggest racist this side of Voldemort. And his parents were just as bad. Though he wasn’t really sure about Draco’s mother, but she had to be just as bad. His mother was sister to Bellatrix and wife of Lucius, and they were Voldemort’s top henchmen.

Harry sighed out the last of his laughter, as bitter as it was, and frowned. “Malfoy, I really hope you are just joking but…. If we are truly married….” He sighed and kept telling himself that He Draco would finish translating his family tree, just as long as he kept up this rouse, and answered with the *right* answer. “Then I would say, Husband, finish translating my family tree. Because I want to know about my family and everything else that is being kept from me.”

At the unexpected response, the blond snapped his gaze toward the other boy and sputtered. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.” Harry answered with a hard glare “I’m serious. But, I really hope you were joking because I really *don’t* want to be married to you.”

Malfy frowned indignatly. “And why not?”

“Because frankly you’re not my type.” Was the prim response.

If Draco had his wings out, they would have bristled. “Then what’s your type?”

“I don’t have one.” Harry sheepishly admitted. “But if I did, you would defiantly *not* be it. No offence.”

“Oh sure” Malfoy huffed and rolled his eyes. “How could I not be offended by such a flattering statement to my person.” He couldn’t believe his ears. Potter, just told that he was the wrong sort AGAIN!

Harry sighed. He had no idea how they even got on this line of conversation. “Look Malfoy. It’s not you. It’s me.”

Crystal eyes tripled in size “I-i-it’s not me?….” He pointed at himself “I..I..I can’t believe you gave me that line!” He had must have given that line to over 100 people. Never! Not once had it ever been given to him. “ I can’t believe…. you’re *dumping* after… after….We’ve been secretly dating for 7 years!”

“What?” Harry spat out, clearly confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh don’t act like you don’t know, Wife.” Malfoy covered his eyes with his hands “I’m devastated! Completely heart broken.” He moaned. “I’ve been dumped…and after all the risks I took to be with you. And what did you do, after everyone found out about us? You kicked me to the curb.”

“What us?” Harry fumed. “What’s wrong with you?”

“But it’s okay. I forgive you.” The blond said in a trembling whisper. “You just wait and see how forgiving I can be as I silently support you with longing eyes tomorrow during the game. It will be a tragic longing consumed with unrequited love.”

“You’re nutters!” Harry vexed dryly.

“No, not nutters.” Draco looked up at him with calculating eyes. “You just gave me the ace I needed over Granger. And by Monday, at the Prefects Meeting…. No one will be dumb enough to vote against me. They will either feel too sorry for me, or too afraid of my displaced anger.”

“I can’t believe this!” Harry spat out angrily. “You’re going to use me!”

“Sure, why not.” Malfoy answered breezily with shrug. “You’re the one who dumped me after all.”

“I did not—” Harry stopped his denial and shook his head. He then gave Malfoy his own calculating look. “Well…if you do that then…”

“Then what?” One blond brow lifted curiously.

“Then I am going to have to say I broke up with you to protect you.” Harry smirked victoriously.

Draco looked confused. “Protect me from who?”

“Volde—”

Before Harry couldn’t even finish saying the name Draco had lunged forward and covered his mouth with his hand. The two fell unceremoniously into the couch, with Malfoy lying on top of him.

“Don’t *ever* say his name.” Came the furious hiss.

“Get off of me!” Was the mumbled command as Harry struggled to get Draco off of him. Unfortunately, the only thing he managed to do was shift the blond into a more intimate position between his legs.

Harry grabbed Draco’s hand with his and pried it from his mouth. The exact moment their hands touched there was an explosion to power surrounding him. Emerald eyes widened fearfully and he wondered if it was because he almost said You-Know- Who’s name in Malfoy room.

Draco on the other hand just closed his eyes in defeat as he let his head fall against Potter’s chest, for he unfortunately knew what was going on.

The Merging of Life Forces was trying to initiate itself.

It was a Muse’s stipulation that Potter’s great-grandfather insisted on, which was included in the contract of the Marriage Bond.

It was to bind their life in an unbreakable link, because wizards who had an extended life, compared to muggles, still didn’t live as long a Muses, who still lived no where as long as Demons who lived until...well,…. until they died.

Ironically, the Malfoys who’ve had a long line of demons in their family tree, never really got the chance to live past 100 years. And that’s even less than the average wizards life span!

Why did they have such short lives? Well, they were usually murdered. Horrible vicious murders. Committed in rage, hate, jealousy, revenge and simply… Because.

If one considers “because” a reason to do anything.

Of course, Musagets was no fool. He knew about the Malfoy’s and their short life span. He also know that when Lucius’s son died at an early age, and if he was anything like the other Malfoy heirs he would– die that is– only Gryffindor heirs would be left. And the Malfoy fortune would befall onto the Gryffindor estate. That was why the Head Gryffindor Heir at that time included that his grandchild would share life, but not *death*.

Of course Lucifer, knew that the Gryffindor heirs never lived that long either, –always rushing head first into danger and all that– and he had the same idea as his friend Musagets, except that he demanded that a child, a SON be born within the first two years of the marriage. Just to make sure that the Malfoy fortune stayed in the family, and then his heir would have the massive Gryffindor fortune as well. Thus making the Malfoys immense fortune *much* bigger.


The exact second Draco touched Harry, both teens felt the draw of their own power then a surge of each others power flowing *into* their body. The two powers didn’t just invade their body. It merged.

It lasted until Malfoy opened his eyes and looked at his hand. He realized that he and Harry were *still* holding hands from when Harry pried it from his mouth. Immediately, he let go, and he did it with an ungraceful jerk of his hand. He then rolled off of the other boy and onto the floor. Desperately, Draco rubbed his palm against his pants leg in hopes that it would cleans him of what he just experienced. Unfortunately, he knew it wouldn’t.

Still lying on the couch, Harry watched Draco’s frantic actions then slowly raised his own hand and looked at it. In almost a daze, he stared at his hand as if it didn’t belong to him and had no idea why it was attached to his arm. He had no idea of what just happened. Or why it happened. He just knew that at that moment, he felt strangely complete.

“What did you just do?”

“I didn’t do anything, Potter!” You did. He wanted to say but didn’t because he knew that Harry’s bite had triggered something in the bond.

Harry finally sat up and stared at Draco who was still sitting on the floor. “Then what just happened?”

“The hell if I know.” Malfoy lied. He also had no desire to discover the effect of it. He then shifted his gaze away from the raven-haired boy and started searching the floor for the items he dropped.

Harry just stared at the other boy as Draco crawled on hands and knees looking for something. A strange feeling inside told Harry, that Draco was lying. However, something also told him not to press the issue.

”What are you looking for?” He asked instead.

“I’m not looking for anything.” Malfoy drawled after he grabbed the last of the two items he was looking for. He stood up in one graceful movement and turned to Harry.

“If I give you something….Will you promise me that you will keep it a secret?”

Potter pursed his lips in indecision. “What is it?”

Draco shook his head. “First you must promise. Then I’ll tell you.” No confessions until he was given immunity. His father taught him that.

“Is it illegal?” Harry asked curiously.

“It will abate your anger.” Malfoy answered instead. “And keep from getting angry as I translate your tree.”

“I don’t use drugs, Malfoy.” Harry informed warningly.

The blond frowned. “And I don’t push them.” Anymore. He left out that last part. Being attacked while trying to gather mipoweed cured him of that. Though he didn’t say that part either.

Harry narrowed his eyes disbelievingly. Everyone knew Draco Malfoy pushed drugs, even if the teachers could never prove it. Some of the Gryffindors even bought from him because his stuff was pure and spelled so you wouldn’t become an addict.

“If it’s not drugs then what is it?”

Malfoy didn’t answer, instead he said “It’s the only way I will translate your tree.”

Harry bit his bottom lip as he debated if he wanted this gift. He knew he shouldn’t take it. Especially since Malfoy wouldn’t even admit to what it was without a promise. However, he had a definite feeling that it wasn’t something that would hurt him.

“Fine. I won’t tell.”

A dark smirk graced the Head Boy’s mouth. “Not even if someone threatens you with death…. Not necessarily your own?”

“What?” Harry asked alarmed. “Why would you even ask me that? What did I just promise to? Will it kill someone?”

“I’m just refining the verbal contract, Potter.” Malfoy assured smoothly with his Salazar smile. “No need for alarm.”

“You know that’s a really creepy look on you.” Harry replied dryly as he eyed the smarmy smile.

The blond sneered. “Yes or no, Potter? Last chance.”

Harry took a deep breath as he took in Draco’s more familiar facial expression. It was a shame that he trusted that look more than a smile. He wondered if all smiles were so fake. Not only fake, but dangerous. If they were, maybe he *should* take the gift.

“No, I won’t tell.” He finally assured.

Harry watched Draco nod approvingly then immediately unravel a burlap cloth he held in his hand. However before the last flap of the cloth was unraveled, Malfoy informed “Now before you get all upset, I want you to know that I got this from the *muggle* world, so it probably doesn’t work with the same intensity as if a wizard made it.”

“Okay.” Was Harry’s curious reply. Because why would Malfoy buy anything from muggles.

When the cloth was opened completely, a little clay doll lay inside.

And the raven-haired boy fought back a shriek. “Is that a voodoo doll?!” He couldn’t believe his eyes. Draco brought a voodoo doll inside of Hogwarts.

Those things were illegal.

Not just illegal in the school.

Really illegal.

We’re talking *Azkaban* illegal!

“Why would you even have one of those things?!” Harry asked alarmed as he pointed at it and scooted away from it at the same time.

“Don’t think of it as a voodoo doll.” Malfoy urged in to tone that reeked of exaggerated patience. “Think outside the box, Potter… Personally,*I* like to think of them as a stress balls.”

Harry couldn’t believe his ears. “A what?” Was the befuddled question.

“Oh come on Potter, you live in the muggle world.” Draco huffed. “They’re those little spongey things that you squeeze when you’re frustrated. A stress ball!”

“I know what you’re talking about, Malfoy!” Harry snapped back. “But there’s a big difference between the two! Stress balls don’t hurt anybody!” He made a wild gesture to the doll in Malfoy’s hands. “Now *those* on the other hand, not only hurt people but *kill* them!” Inwardly, he wondered why he was even having this conversation. It seemed like telling Malfoy not to do bad things was like telling a fish not to swim.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “They only kill if you destroy the doll.”

“But they still *hurt* people!” Harry countered furiously.

“Yes, but some people *deserve* to be hurt, don’t they… Harratio?” Draco purred darkly as gave the other boy a knowing look.

Upon hearing his name, a chill encircled Harry’s spine and he looked at Draco. The other boy looked positively angelic as he logically justified his evildoing.

So this was how temptation seduced the righteous. Harry thought absently. Not with threats of vengeance and death, but with beauty and the promise of *justice*. Harry had always wondered why people would voluntarily partake in Dark Magic when it usually had such devastating repercussions.

The raven-haired boy glanced at the doll. “Who is it?” He choked in a whisper. Because the moment Draco said his true name, Harry knew who he *wanted* it to be.

“No one yet.” Draco answered smoothly as he sat back on the glass table and laid the doll on his lap. He opened the silk bag and with dramatic flare, he pulled out a single lemon drop. “But I know who it *will be*….. if you want it to be so.”

“Dumbledore?” Harry gasped as he stared fearfully at the little ball of yellow sugar. “You’re going to use a candy he gave you?”

“Oh, he didn’t *give* this to me.” The blond assured with a sinister smile. “I stole this from him awhile back. It was quite difficult to do too.”

Harry looked confused. “Why would you have to steal it? He freely gives them away.”

“That is *exactly* why!” Draco answered in his now patented teacher’s voice. “I couldn’t possibly use something he has given *me* in voodoo doll. Because it becomes *mine* and to put what is *mine* into this doll…” He gestured to said doll on his lap. “Is to torture *myself*. Understand?”

Harry nodded slowly as the understanding came to him. “So if you stole it…then it’s still *his* and therefore you can use the doll to control him.”

“Exactly!” Draco gave a brilliant smile. “You’re not as dumb as you look, Potter.”

Harry stared at the boy in front of him in awe. A sickened sort of awe. He just realized that Malfoy had no shame whatsoever. No fear about getting caught. No remorse for torturing someone. And no guilty conscious about…Anything. He actually looked *vindicated* .

It was a strange epiphany. All these years Harry had thought that Draco did spiteful things because he enjoyed being mean. When in truth, Draco plotted and schemed because he felt like he was correcting a wrong. An injustice, so to speak. It didn’t matter that what the blond was doing, or had done, was 100x worse than what had been done to him because he felt that he was in the *right*. It was a justified retribution.

Harry just realized something else too….

“You’re the devil aren’t you?” The raven-haired boy whispered fearfully.

Malfoy chuckled amusedly and shook his head. “No.” He then smirked mischievously leaned a bit forward and whispered into Harry’s ear. “But we *are* distant cousins.” Which was true, though he rarely admitted it. However, he didn’t mind admitting it to Potter, the boy would find out eventually. Might as well confess now.

Harry shivered slightly and his eyes closed on their own accord when Malfoy warm breath tickled the shell of his ear. He could hardly believe it. His body shivered, not shuddered and Draco’s close proximity was actually a little bit pleasant instead of terrifying. And if he was honest with himself, it didn’t feel so scary when Draco was lying on top of him either.

But Harry was not being honest with himself right now.

He refused to.

Harry slowly pulled back and stared the Veelan prince with wide eyes. It made since now. The devil was supposed to have been the most beautiful angel in Heaven. And Draco was certainty beautiful, and in his true form he looked angelic. And in a way, he *was* Harry’s angel .

“So do you want the doll or not, Harratio?”

Again with that damn name. Harry grit his teeth. “You’re horrible you know that?” Because his angel or not, there was no doubt about it Draco Diabolis Malfoy was pure evil, with a capital “E.” Capital V-I-L too.

The blond smirked. “It’s a practiced gift. So what have you decided?”

Diffidently, the rave-haired teen held out his hand as he reluctantly admitted. “Yes. I want it.” Because he did. There was no way he could forgive Dumbledore for this, and there was no other way he could let the other man know how *truly* angry he was.

Not without getting in trouble that is.

So it had to be this way.

The Slytherin way.

“I thought you would.” Malfoy smirked triumphantly as he handed over the doll. “Now if you get caught with it….” Draco reminded as he also gave his betrothed the lemon drop. “You didn’t get it from me.”

“Yes, yes, I know.” Harry huffed as he grabbed the candy and gave the doll a closer inspection. There was blood and bones and other indiscernible things in it. It was also very gritty. Graveyard dirt, he quickly realized. And it smelled disgusting. “Are you sure you didn’t make this thing too?” He looked up at Malfoy. “Like your wand? I mean if you did, I wouldn’t tell.”

“No, Potter. I did’t make it. I have no reason to lie about it..” Malfoy drawled in a frown. “I bought it, actually.”

Harry looked surprised. That was a big risk. Not only for Malfoy but for the seller as well. “Where? Knocturn Alley?”

“Too expensive.” The blond shook his head and smirked. “Anyway, I told you. I got it from a muggle.”

“Where?” Because Harry could hardly believe that Draco would willingly converse with muggles; even though, he did have that club in Ibiza.

“On the internet.” The blond replied smugly as he crossed his arms.

Potter looked confused. “The internet?”

“Loki, Potter, don’t you even know what the internet is?” The blond sneered. “You were raised in the muggle world, were you not?!”

“I know what it is!” Harry snapped. He did… a little. He’d seen Dudley on it, but he wasn’t allowed to touch the computer. Moreover, his overweight cousin only went to porn sites. And since sex wasn’t his ‘thing,’ he wasn’t interested in the computer or the internet.

“What I’m curious to know is why *you* were on it?” Harry clarified. “I thought you hated everything that has to do with muggles.”

“A necessary evil when I am in Ibiza.” Malfoy sighed with a dismissive flick of the wrist. He hated that place. Hated that he had a club there, and wanted to sell it as soon as possible. Shortly after he opened it, he quickly –and unfortunately– found out that clubs were only fun… when you didn’t own them.

“What’s a necessary evil? Voodoo sites?”

“No, Potter, the computer.” Draco rolled his eyes. “But I find it more agreeable to make purchase orders from muggles via the computer. The less interaction with them the better. They really are disgusting creatures, you know. They smell like wet dogs too. So I wouldn’t recommend standing to close to one.” His looked soured as he nodded seriously.

Harry looked at Malfoy as if the boy were a complete idiot. “They do not smell like wet dogs! Malfoy, you don’t know what the hell you are talking about! I doubt you’ve even spoken to a muggle you’re entire life?”

“Unfortunately for *me*, Potter, that’s where you are wrong.” Draco drawled miserably, then brightened. “Still, you’d be surprised what they sale on the internet. I sure as hell was!” His eyes glittered excitedly.

“Are you telling me that you can find more than voodoo dolls?” He asked disbelievingly.

“What Muggles are allowed to sale on the internet makes what I can buy in Knocturn Alley look like child’s toys.” Malfoy smiled brilliantly. “And it’s so much more convenient. AND it’s LEGAL!”

Harry looked at Draco’s face and was surprise to see a *real* smile from the blond. It looked like one big smirk. Almost as if the other side of his mouth couldn’t be bothered to lift. It suited him. Much more than Salazar’s.

“I can even get dead mans toes! Can you believe that?” Malfoy went on happily and completely oblivious to Harry’s inspections of him. “By the DOZENS! Hell, I can even get an entire dead man if I wanted to. A fetus too! And at the fraction of the cost of what it would cost at Knocturn Alley!”

Potter scrunched up his nose and frowned. “Why would you even want that stuff?”

“Potions and spells, Potter.”

“Yeah but those types of spells would be illegal won’t they?”

“Some. But most would be Forbidden but not illegal.” He explained in his ‘teacher’s voice’. “It‘s acquiring the supplies which are illegal, but since it’s not illegal in the muggle world, I can’t be charged with a crime I didn’t commit. Now can I?” Malfoy asked exultantly. “I am completely in the right and there is nothing the Ministry can do about it!”

“I’m so happy for you.” Harry said in a dry tone that expressed the exact opposite.

“I’m happy for me too.” Draco smiled. The internet was saving him tons of money. “So are we ready?”

Harry furrowed his brows. “For what?”

“What do you mean ‘for what’?” Malfoy snapped impatiently. “To translate that damn tree of yours!”

The raven-haired boy gave a sheepish smile and scratched the back of his head. “Oh yeah.” Harry looked around on the couch and picked up the discarded leather parchment. “So this thing will tell me all about my Gryffindor heritage?”

“Ahh… no.”

Harry looked up at the blond with pure disappointment. “I thought you said you were going to help me find out about my family?”

“Don’t look at me like that, Potter.” Malfoy demanded as he snatched the tree from the other boy’s hand. He stood up and started walking toward his chair in front of the fireplace. “How the hell was I supposed to know that you didn’t know about that side either? You told me that you knew about your great grandfather!”

Harry didn’t comment or try to defend himself. He just held his head down in shame.

Draco didn’t turn around but turned his head and looked over his shoulder at Harry’s forlorn expression and inwardly sighed. There was so much pity swelled in his stomach because of that look.

Not for Harry, mind you.

For himself.

Because even before they officially started their inevitable relationship, Draco already knew that he wasn’t going to be able to deny Harry anything.

Not when the other boy was always making such pathetic expressions.

Mentally, Malfoy threw his hands up in defeat, but literally threw the Veela made manuscript into his chair. He gave one more glance at Harry then made a beeline for one of his book cases. In it he pulled out a massive tome then walked over to Harry and dropped it onto the other boy’s lap.

“Ow!”

“Serves you right.” Malfoy growled as he walked toward his seat again. “Really, Potter. If you really wanted to know about your Gryffindor ancestry all you had to do was go to the registers office at the Ministry or even the news paper. Your family’s name is famous in this world, so I am sure they would have it.” He picked up the tree and plopped himself into his chair.

“Then if that’s all I have to do, then why translate it for me? I can do it myself.”

“Because this is your mother’s tree not your fathers.” Draco drawled boredly as he summoned the clipboard, paper, and pencil-quill.

“My…mother?” Harry asked astonished. He would have thought that, to Malfoy, his mother’s muggle ancestors were too insignificant to bother looking up.

“Yes, it’s your mum’s!” Malfoy cut in snidely. “You want to know about her too don’t you?”

“Yes…and…” Harry smiled. “Thank you.” Harry didn’t know why but Draco doing his mother’s tree first really meant a lot to him.

Malfoy ignored the gratitude and started on the translations.

“So… what’s this?” Harry asked after a minute. He gestured to the large tome on his lap.

“It’s a concordance of names of magical families.” Malfoy answered not bothering to look up from his work.

“Oh… so you want me to help you?”

“No, dummy.” The blond sneered. “It’s a list of MAGICAL families. You’re mum was a muggleborn, meaning she was the FIRST in her family to become magical. Her relatives wouldn’t even be in that book.”

“I know that!” Harry snapped back. He did. Really. He just…. forgot. Anyway, he was just trying to be helpful. “Then why give it to me?”

Draco stopped, closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. Then a couple more breaths before he spoke. “It’s so you can find the names of your relatives on your *father’s* side.”

“Oh!” Harry said surprised. “So this book will have all of their names?”

“It’s not recent.” Malfoy admitted. “But it starts a few years after my great grandfather Lucifer was born, so I am sure yours is in there too. It goes backwards and will direct you to who is related to who until the last names disappear into clan names.”

Harry looked down at the book as if he had just been given the Holy Grail. He then looked back at Draco. The other boy was deliberately ignoring him. Harry figured Malfoy didn’t want to hear his thanks, seeing how he always reacted so badly to it in the past. So Harry kept it to himself even though he was bursting with it.

“May I borrow some paper?” He said instead.

“Merlin’s balls, Potter, you are the neediest person I’ve ever met!” Malfoy huffed and ripped a piece of paper off of his clipboard and threw it Potter. It had the same effect his robe did a few weeks past. It fluttered softly in the air only making him madder.

Harry bit back a chuckle and summoned the paper to him.

“Is there anything else you may need this evening?” Malfoy asked sarcastically.

“A pencil-quill.” The raven-haired boy smiled out. Because he really did need one.

“Then transfigure it yourself!” Was the cross response as Draco returned to his work.

Harry smiled as he shrugged. He could do that easily. He really didn’t have anything he could change and he was pretty sure Draco wouldn’t give him anything else; so Harry reached up and pulled out a few strands of his hair. A squeak from Malfoy made him shift his attention to the other boy.

“What?”

Draco looked like he was about to puke. “Your… hair…”

“What about it?” The raven-haired boy asked curiously.

“You… ripped it out…” The blond swallowed audibly and pointed at the strands in Harry’s hand. “You can’t…do that.”

“It’s just hair, Malfoy.” Was the nonchalant response. Harry then rubbed the strands between his finger and thumb. A few seconds later, they turned into the writing utensil he needed. “And now it’s a pencil-quill.” He held it up so Malfoy could see it. He sort of hoped Draco would be impressed with his wandless magic too.

“I think I am going to be sick.” The blond groaned as he covered his mouth, quickly stood up and ran toward his room.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco was in a real bad mood when he came back, so Harry didn’t ask what that episode was about. Luckily, for the former Gryffindor Malfoy still agreed to translate his family tree. So in companionable silence Harry worked on making his father’s tree with the concordance while Draco worked on translating his mothers.

He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep. All Harry knew was he was writing his many great grandmother’s children’s names and then Draco was lording over him, telling him not to drool on the couch because it was expensive.

“Whah….whah are you talking about?” Groogily, Harry started to sit up and with sleep blurry eyes, he was surprised to see that he was spread out on the couch. He didn’t recall getting up there. He was sitting on the floor the last remembered.

He looked up and at Draco –who looked impatiently back at him– and wondered if Malfoy put him on the couch, so he’d be comfortable. A second later, he dismissed the thought completely. Why would Malfoy care if he was comfortable or not.

“How long have I been sleep?” Harry asked dazedly as he wiped a bit of slobber from his mouth. And wow he really was slobbering!

“Hours.” Malfoy answered bitterly. Because he, himself, had NO sleep whatsoever!

Emerald eyes widened in shock “Hours!? What time is it?”

“A little past dawn.” Malfoy answered sitting beside him, tiredly. His own eyes were bruised with the lack of sleep.

Harry’s well rested gaze snapped toward the solitary window, in Malfoy’s room, and low and behold there he saw it.

Sunshine.

Potter snapped his gaze toward Draco. He was now slumped back in the couch looking like he was two seconds from falling asleep.

“Why did you let me sleep so long?!” Harry ignored the fact that this sleep had been the most peaceful sleep he had in years.

“I wasn’t done with the translating.” Malfoy mumbled drowsily. “You said you weren’t leaving until it was done.” Harry also said he wouldn’t be able to sleep until it was finished, but apparently that part was a lie. Harry slept like the dead. He didn’t even notice when Draco picked him up and put him on the couch. Or when Snape came by asking what happened to Filch.

“But now everyone is going to think we had sex!” Harry yelled aghast. He didn’t even want to think about the looks everyone was going to give him now.

“Who cares about that!” The blond groaned sleepily as he forced himself to sit up. “You have other things to worry about, but before I start… here.” He gave Harry the voodoo doll. “I put the lemon drop inside it, by the way.”

Harry cautiously took the doll into his hand and stared fearfully at Malfoy. “It’s that bad?”

The blond nodded. “I think so.”

Harry gave the doll an experimental squeeze, but as far as he could tell, nothing happened. Maybe it was just a stress doll.

“Remember you telling me about your mother’s parselmouth abilty?”

Harry nodded. Dread building up to the point of making him feel sick. He squeezed the doll again.

“Well, normal muggle borns aren’t gifted with that type of skill. It can’t even be learned. It’s an innate ability.”

“Maybe she wasn’t a normal muggleborn.” Harry suggested.

“Or maybe she wasn’t a muggleborn at all.” Draco countered with absolute knowing. He then took out the original Veelan made tree and pointed at a bunch of symbols close to the top. “You see that name there?”

“Uh.. yeah…” Truthfully, though, the symbols didn’t look like a name at all to Harry but a bunch of pictures.

“You see this here?” Draco asked again.

Harry nodded, though the symbols meant absolutely nothing to him.

“It says Amadeus Nouveau Graham IV.”

“And?” He asked, perplexed and relieved. He thought Draco was going to say another name. A more horrible name.

“He was a Pure Blood and the youngest of triplets, all named after their father.” Draco responded in a shocked voice. “He married a girl named Virgin Bertolli, and even without your tree, I knew this.”

“How?” Harry asked curiously.

“I remembered this story because Virgin was like six years old when she got married and Amadeus was like thirty. It was *that* fact which will never allow me to be free of it.”

Harry wished he didn’t know himself. “Who told you about this?”

“A portrait of Vincent’s uncle. Ian Bertolli III. Virgin’s father.” The blond replied.

“Then that means…” Harry looked green around the gills.

“Yes, you and Crabbe are distant cousins.” Malfoy replied smugly then asked, after Harry started frowning. “Are you still sure you are ready to know the truth?”

Harry looked green but he nodded reluctantly. Merlin’s beard, he was related to Crabbe. Gross!

“Well, Ian told me that Amadeus and his daughter had their first child before she was even eleven but because she was so young, she died in child birth and the child was a squib. He said that Amadeus was so embarrassed that he moved to the muggle world to raise his child.”

“So who was the child?” Harry asked fearfully again.

“Your mum’s mum.” Draco answered with more energy than he possessed a few minutes ago.

Harry squeezed the doll in hand viciously. “Why didn’t anyone ever tell me this?!”

“*You* are the paragon to why blood mixing is the thing to do! Of course they are not going to tell you that you are practically Pure. So making you believe something that’s not true was a given.” Malfoy replied in his professor’s voice. “In the end that’s all that matters.”

“What I think?”

“No, what you *perceive*” Malfoy corrected. “And therefore what you believe.”

“But it would be a lie!”

Draco shrugged. “That’s not what matters. All that matter is that you believe what they say or don’t say. And that you believe what their intentions are.”

“But it matters to me!” Potter grit out and narrowed his eyes as he thought about his entire life. “I hate being lied to.”

Draco looked at the boy beside of him. “So, are you telling me that you would rather be told the truth?”

“Yes.”

“But can you handle the truth?” Draco drawled arching a superior eyebrow. He didn’t think Potter could. Hell, he was even happier before he found out about their engagement. “You know they say ignorance is bliss for a reason.”

“I’ll take my chances.” Was the dark reply. “I’m tired of being ignorant.”

Draco didn’t respond to that comment. Even though an insult was at the tip of his tongue. However, that was just a habit and not any real desire to hurt the boy any further.

“And if the truth is about me,” Harry continued. “Then I have the right to know. Don’t you agree?”

“Depends, I suppose.” Malfoy answered evasively as he returned to reading the tree. His name in particular.

It was few minutes of silence before Harry asked. “So what was that? Slytherin 101?”

“No, Potter, that was Life 101.” Draco drawled almost absently.

“So are you telling me that everyone is a liar?”

“Of course.” He shrugged. “As long as someone has something to gain or hide, they will lie to achieve or protect it.”

“Will you lie to me?”

“Sure.” Was the breezy response.

Potter was dumbfounded by that blunt honesty.

“My father told me long ago to be wary of sweet words and seemingly altruistic actions.” Draco supplied before Harry could comment. “Those who engage in those practices are usually the most poisonous.”

“So are you saying that Dumbledore is poison?”

“No.” Crystal eyes bore into emerald. “You just did.”

Harry seemed shocked by that realization. Because even though he had been constantly let down by the man, these last few weeks, he wanted to believe that the Headmaster had his best intention at heart.

“Personally…” Malfoy continued dismissively with a flick of his wrist. “I try not to think of the old wanker. All I am saying is that there is a motive behind everyone’s actions. Good or bad. So before you just take someone at face value and decide to believe in them, or their cause, whole heartedly, you have to ask yourself ‘what does this person have to gain and what do I have to loose.”

Honestly curious, Harry asked. “Is that what you do?”

“Always.”

“Then what is your motive?” He gestured to the both of them.

“That depends on what you are asking.” Malfoy smirked smugly. “I have a reason for everything I do….Or don’t do.”

“For helping me then. And telling me about my mum and getting me my family tree? What do you have to gain from that?”

Draco tilted his head to the side as the weighed whether or not he wanted to explain. “Well... for one thing, I’m curious. Normally I wouldn’t have been. But seeing how everyone seems to be so hell bent on you *not* finding out I wonder what could be so terrible.”

“Why does it have to be terrible?” Harry asked with a building dread.

“Most things which are hidden usually are…”

“But it could be something great…”

“Or greatly disturbing.” Malfoy shot back.

“What could be so disturbing about my family tree?” Harry asked though not completely believing it. “It’s not like I’m related to Vo—You- Know- Who.” He hoped. Merlin’s beard, he hoped.

“True,” Malfoy agreed. “But it does say that your great grandmother, Immaculada Marvelo, got knocked up by a *muggle.* What’s worse, they didn’t even get *married!* She had a child in wedlock!” Draco looked at the parchment again and shook his head in disdain.

Harry was frozen by the name Marvelo.

“Coincidentally,” Draco went on obliviously. “This is where you’re blood got dirty.” He tapped angrily and harshly on the leather. “Not that I’m surprised. My father told me that muggles were bastards who would leave their children at the drop of a hat. I doubt she could even show her face in proper society after that.”

“Because she got pregnant?” Harry asked absently.

“No!” Malfoy huffed primly. “Because she got pregnant without being MARRIED first!”

“People do that all the time.” Harry informed. A little more relieved. If she wasn’t married then it couldn’t be him.

“No, *muggles* do it all the time! Purebloods know better.” The blond sniffed.

Feeling a little better, Harry rolled his eyes. Neville had already told him that Draco was a traditionalist in all things aristocrat, so it was no use to argue on this point. Malfoy wasn’t going to change his views anytime soon. Instead, he changed the subject.

“So, this child, it was my mother’s father right, seeing how my mum’s mum was pure.”

“A squib but pure nonetheless.” Draco looked at the paper.

“So what was his name?” Harry crossed his fingers as he hoped for the best but expected the worst.

“Um…let me see…Tom Marvelo…Riddle…hmmm…. I guess she gave him his bastard father’s sir name. I guess to keep the embarrassment factor down.” Draco said nonchalantly. Then wrote something down. “I wonder if the rest of the Riddles’s are alive…” He murmured as he wrote. “If not … maybe we can look into an inheritance. I’m thinking about five different families owe you money.”

However, Harry wasn’t listening.

Without warning, a ring of immense power, colored like the deepest shade of blood, pulsed out of Harry, like some kind of exploding star.

With wide crystal eyes, Draco watched the magical energy approach him with deadly swiftness.

It was like everything was slow motion. Except,..

It wasn’t.

The surge of power cutting through the air actually reminded Draco of a Shin scythes lethal beauty. He just hoped it wasn’t as deadly. He also hoped that it wouldn’t cause as much damage, to his body, as last time he was hit by Harry’s power.

“Oh my STARS!” Harry gasped out in alarm as he reached forward, trying to grab the power that he unconsciously unleashed. Like water, it slipped though his fingers. Still, he made another grab for it, but it was moving too fast, moreover he didn’t know how to stop it even if he did catch it.

In a state of petrified shock, Draco watched Harry futilely try to gain purchase on his power. Idly, part of Malfoy’s brain told him that he should move. Put up his shield or SOMETHING. Because whatever Harry let loose looked dangerous. REAL dangerous. But it was just a whisper of a suggestion. He was too scared to actually follow up on it.

“God! Please..!” Harry pleaded frantically as he reached out again to stop it. It didn’t work. “Draco, don’t just sit there! Do something!”

But it was too late. Luckily, Draco put his cufflinks back into his pocket and a shield much like his demon one erupted around him. Protecting him. Nevertheless, the crimson pulse bounced off his shield and found its purchase on every single one of his glass encased book shelves which lined the room. They shook and rocked unsteadily, and all of the immaculate order inside every one of them was in disarray. Only the fact that they were *overly* protected with wards kept them and the contents inside from being destroyed. The fact that they even moved proved that whatever Potter unleashed was truly lethal.

“What the fuck was *that,* Potter!” Draco seethed as he shot to a stance. He threw the leather parchment on the floor .Fear now bled into anger. “Tell me, what the fuck was that?!”

“I don’t know!” Harry answered honestly. His eyes were wide and shocked. He didn’t know what just happened, but it scared the crap out of him too. He was just glad that Malfoy wasn’t hurt.

“What do you mean ‘you don’t know’!?” Malfoy spat as he pointed accusingly, then gestured wildly around the room and pointedly at his destroyed bookcases “You almost killed me!”

Emerald eyes became even wider with fright. “No…No I didn’t ... I didn’t mean to…”

“You didn’t ‘mean’ a lot of the afflictions you bestow on me, but doesn’t mean I don’t get injured, Potter!” The blond accused. Although despite his words, he was pretty sure that Harry probably *did* intend every wound he received.

The former Gryffindor gave him a wounded and contrite expression. “I’m sorr—”

“No! Don’t say it!” Draco interrupted slicing his hand through the air. “Potter, there is an old saying that says “don’t kill the messenger” and YOU need to take heed to it! *I’m* not the one who kept this from you! So don’t take your fucking anger out on me!”

Harry turned his gaze and face away as if he’d been slapped. “I know and I’m sorr—”

Draco cut of the apology by making another slicing gesture with his hand. “You need to get your powers in check!” Malfoy viciously commanded. “Because even though I am in my 17th year, I can’t promise you that the next time I become the recipient of your displaced anger I won’t *kill* you!”

And he meant it.

He was tired of the bull shit.

And even more tired of getting injured.

Harry turned his head so he wouldn’t have to look at Draco anymore. He knew the boy was furious by this latest attack. He didn’t mean for it to happen. Still, that didn’t change the fact that it *did* happen. Though, in truth Harry wasn’t exactly sure *what* happened. All he knew was that he was –no still is– so ANGRY!!

Harry glared at the voodoo doll in his hand and began to squeeze.

Tighter.

And tighter!

And TIGHTER!!!!

Until…

Clink

POP!

Two sets of eyes, one crystal and one jade widened in absolute terror.

“OH MY GOD!!!!!”

“You killed him!!!”


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


Sorry about the errors. I have been so busy this last few months. My job is desperately making me unhappy as my work is now bleeding into my home life.

I will fix the errors later. I just wanted to fulfill my promise and get this out before book 6.

July 15, 2005

Lots of love.

Please review
babychan