Lord of Shadows Arc, Book One: Prince of Darkness

Hi hi! Looky, it's chapter 7! I would like to remind you that I've got a Yahoo! group now for updates to this story. Also, I've uploaded a diagram
into the group database showing what they all discuss in the second half of the chapter, you may find it illuminating.
The address for the group can be found at the top of chapter 6. (That's the one before this one, bakas. . .)

Notes, see previous chapters. . .Todd Silversman is my own creation, no stealing. The others belong to Ms. Rowling.

Reviews are sought after, like rare books or precious jewels. . .

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From Lion at New Moon:

I think it took about two days for the population of Hogwarts to realise that somehow, Draco and I were "together". Many stories circulated about how such a thing could have happened, ranging from the absurd to the amusing, to some that came very close to the truth. In the end, Draco and I each told the whole story to members of our Houses, and from there the true story spread. And once it did, people were surprisingly supportive. In that, most of them weren't trying to kill one of us for corrupting the other. Supportive being a relative term . . .

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The Hogwarts Express ground to a halt outside the small village of Hogsmeade, disgorging itself of hundreds of students, dressed in Hogwarts school robes. The smallest of the students milled about uncertainly, their older compatriots already making their way to the strange, horseless carriages on the drive. But soon a rather large voice could be heard over the milling and confusion.

"Firs' years! Ri' this way! Firs' years!""

The small students looked up-- and up-- and saw that the large voice came from a rather large man. Since the older students didn't even seem to notice him, they assumed that this fellow must belong here, and so followed in his wake to the boats that would take them across the lake.

But, what the first years didn't know was that the oblivion wasn't so much due to being used to the giant-like man, as it was to the incredible rumours that had been running through the compartments of the train.

"Did you hear?" Seamus eagerly ran up to Ron. "They say Slytherin is on the verge of splitting! Half of them think Malfoy's a traitor, and want to turn him out, and the other half think he isn't and should be allowed to stay."

Harry looked over to where Draco was boarding a carriage with Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini..

"It's good he's got some friends, at least. . ."

Seamus looked at Harry in amazement.

"Are you insane, Harry?! Ron, tell him how great it is for Malfoy to finally get a bit of his own back."

But Ron shook his head.

"Much as I hate Malfoy, I can't really disagree with Harry on this. . ."

Seamus gaped, gob-smacked.

"This is what going mad is like, isn't it? Suddenly all the most Gryffindor of Gryffindors go and get chummy with Malfoy, King of Slytherin. . ."

Hermione snickered as Harry blushed. It was Ron, though, who answered, grinning.

"You have no idea. . .

During this conversation, Neville had got into the carriage, followed by Hermione. Now Ron and Harry boarded as well, and Neville leaned back out the window.

"It's going to a lot more insane, so don't go wasting your incredulity just yet!"

Seamus frowned, upset that even Neville seemed to know what was going on. But then, seeing that nearly all the students were in carriages, he ran off to board one himself before he was left behind.

As the carriages started up, Hermione turned to Neville.

"So, Harry filled you in then, on the train?"

"Yeah," nodded Neville. "I'm not entirely clear on what my role is, though," he confessed, "but Harry said we're supposed to have a meeting tonight, to go through everything. And I'm even less sure he's made the right choice with me. . ." Neville's face clouded with concern as he looked at Harry.

"I mean," he continued, "shouldn't it be somebody like you, Ron?"

Ron opened his mouth, but was interrupted by Harry, who was looking out he window, eyes distant.

"I need Ron elsewhere, Neville. Besides, the role I chose you for calls for someone as astrologically close to a twin to me as possible. You and I were born in the same maternity ward on the same day, within a few hours of each other, which means there is no better choice for the position."But. . ." Neville fidgeted, looking askance at Harry, then to Ron and Hermione as though asking for support. "You know I'm not very good with magic . . . and from what you said, it's a pretty important position . . . and if I botch it up, as I tend to do, you know. . . well. . ."

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other, for both had privately had similar concerns. But not so Harry.

"Don't worry, Neville." he said, smiling slightly. "I'm sure you'll be great. You're one of the most skilled members of the DA, remember, and you certainly proved yourself last June. Both McGonagall and Flitwick have already agreed to help you with what you need to know."

Neville still looked unsure, but knew that when Harry Potter got an idea stuck into his head, nothing could stop him.

"But if you don't want to do it, I understand. . ." Harry added, unwilling to force anyone into doing this.

Neville looked back up, startled.

"No, no, Harry, I do. I do! I want to help you, you've always been such a good friend . . . I just think you've made a mistake in choosing me. . ."

"Well, I don't," Harry sat up straighter, turning to look Neville in the eyes. "And neither do Dumbledore, McGonagall, or Lupin . . . even Draco couldn't think of anyone better."

"Malfoy?! He . . . he's all right with me doing this?" Neville found it hard to imagine that the student he feared most should approve of this.

Harry smiled.

"He said the same things you just did, but in the end, he couldn't give me anyone to replace you with. He heard about what happened at the Department of Mysteries from the other side, you know." Harry leaned forward with a conspiratorial glint in his eye. "The way Macnair tells it, you were at least three feet taller, and as fierce and unstoppable as a rampaging bull. Says you went berserker."

Ron snickered as Neville leaned forward and stage whispered to Harry,

"I broke my nose, and couldn't say any spells properly. Whom did they confuse me with?"

"They did have to try to save face, you realise." Hermione interrupted. "The fact that a bunch of 'school brats' actually held their own against them--even if it was only for a little while-- it must have really damaged their pride. And they had to tell You-Know-Who something."

Harry grinned as the carriage rolled to a stop.

"Oh, shush, Hermione!" He turned back to Neville as he clambered out. "You're the Boy-Who-Inspires-Fear-in-the-Death-Eaters, Neville. All you need now is one of the Creevy boys following you around all the time, trying to take your picture!"

Laughing together, the three boys and one girl made their into the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Most of the students quickly settled, hungry and wanting all the opening festivities to be over with so they could eat. The exception, however, was the Slytherin table. Those students were huddled together in small groups, all speaking very quietly and very quickly.

Through their midst strode Draco Malfoy, head held high. To most people, he looked as he always did-- proud, arrogant, and graceful. But Harry, a very few of his friends, and Snape noticed the slight tension around the eyes, as whispers and not a few sneers drifted in his wake.

Seemingly unconcerned, Draco surveyed the Slytherin table, internally wondering if it were better to choose a seat closer to the staff table, or to the doors. Deciding a quick escape would be better to trust than the tenuous alliance he now had with some of the staff, he calmly chose a seat closer to the doors of the Hall. Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson were quick to sit with him, as was a third year, Graham Pritchard. But the rest of the students began moving down toward the head table. Some very conscientiously chose seats in the middle, but nearly half of them chose seats as far away from Draco as possible, though, judging from some of the conversations, there might have been some bullying involved.

But to the great relief of the other houses, the Slytherins all finally sat down, though they didn't stop their murmuring until Snape rose from the staff table and gave them a sharp glare.

Then Professor McGonagall entered, leading the first years, and the Sorting Hat began its song.

A thousand years ago and more
At the midst of the age's turning,
Four mages at the height of pow'r
Began a place of learning.

From the North Rowena Ravenclaw
A witch known for her mind.
Said she, "I think we ought to take
The Intellectual kind."

From east came sly old Slytherin
As clever as you find.
Said he, "I think we only take
Lineages pure as mine."

From South came firey Gryffindor
With sword and spear in hand.
Said he, "I think we ought to take
The bravest in the land."

From west came kind, young Hufflepuff
Heart bright, like blazing Sun .
Said she, "I think we out to take
All and Everyone."

And thus were made the Houses
Of total number, four
Slytherin and Ravenclaw
Hufflepuff and Gryffindor.

And though fierce blinded rivalry
Has sometimes our hearts blighted
Remember this, remember well
What oft we have forgot to tell
That Gryffindor loved Slytherin
And Slytherin requited.


Stunned silence greeted the end of the Hat's shortest song ever, and then polite applause filled the Hall. Harry met Draco's eyes briefly, both somewhat heartened by the Hat's surprise ending.

The applause quickly died down, and Professor McGonagall began to read the names. One by one, students came forward to be sorted, and then went to their assigned tables amidst great cheering and clapping. But each time someone was sorted into Slytherin, they had to choose which end to sit at. Most chose to sit at the middle, trying to delay the choice for as long as possible. There was one exception, however, in a first-year named Todd Silversman.

He was small, with short brown hair and large, hazel eyes. As he approached the Slytherin table, his eyes narrowed as he quickly analysed the tableau before him. He paused for a moment, pursing his lips in thought, and came to a decision. With great confidence in his step, he set out the the far end of the table.

Seeing where he'd set his sights, Crabbe reached out and caught his sleeve.

"Where do you think you're going?" he grunted.

A sneer marred Todd's face.

"I'm going to sit down there by the doors. I don't see what business it is of yours what place I sit in."

Even Draco was impressed by the amount of arrogance and hauteur the boy managed to pour into his words.

Crabbe frowned.

"I think you should sit up here, with us."

The boy smirked.

"Perhaps, had my mother dallied with a goat, I would," he said loudly, to the delight of the other houses. "As it is, both my parents are humans, and would rather I not waste my time with slave-child. So please, dear boy, unhand me."

The Gryffindor table roared as Blaise turned to Draco,

"Looks like somebody's been studying their Shakespeare. . ."

Crabbe scowled, but let Todd go, who gave mocking little bow, and then went to join Draco and his small following. Draco gave him a huge grin as the boy sat down next to him.

"You do know what you just did?" he asked.

Todd gave a grin.

"Of course. All those close to the staff table are the children of Death Eaters. You are the Slytherins who aren't. And the ones in the middle are too frightened to make a choice between the two sides."

"You do realise," Pansy said seriously, "that we're very much outnumbered. They won't take kindly to you choosing us."

The boy looked thoughtful.

"Maybe," he said, "but I prefer to associate with those who think for themselves."

Graham Pritchard shook his head.

"I don't think I've ever heard an eleven year old who spoke half as well as you do. Are you sure you aren't older?"

Todd grinned.

"My father has always expected me to think for myself, and my mother has always believed that 'one should be able to articulate one's thoughts clearly'. We've never had much money, you see, and they've always said that the way to get ahead in life was to be smarter than everyone else. So, my bedtime stories were always things like The Odyssey, or A Midsummer's Night's Dream."

"Told you," declared Blaise, "Shakespeare."

The Sorting finally ended, and Dumbledore stood to speak.

"First, I would like to welcome our new students to Hogwarts. I hope that in the coming years, this place will become a second home to you. To our teachers and returning students, I say, welcome back. I will remind the students that they are not to be out after curfew, and that the Forbidden Forest is off limits to all students.

"I would like inform you that Professor Firenze has decided to stay with us another year, so he will be teaching Divination along with Professor Trelawney. Also, there was, as usual, some concern over who the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor would be. Last year, some of you took some lessons from young Mr. Potter, and many of you attributed your high O.W.L.s to his teaching. Because of this, many of your parents asked that we simply have him teach you. But he has his own life, and cannot teach full time. However, when asked, he said he would be willing to be the assistant for a new Professor. After giving it much consideration, Mr. Potter chose Professor Lupin as our new Defence teacher. Now," he looked across the room as murmurs filled the air, "everyone is aware of the fact that Professor Lupin is a werewolf. But many of you remember him fondly from when he taught here before, and Professor Snape has graciously taken on the task of brewing the Wolfsbane Potion for him. I fear, in these times, you have more to fear from being unprepared than you do from a known werewolf. Your parents are aware of this decision, and trust that you will be kept safe.

"And now, business done, I invite you to enjoy the feast!"

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Harry, Ron and Hermione walked through the halls after the feast. The Gryffindors had been enthusiastic in their approval of the new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, and now the three of them were making their way to the staff meeting room.

They weren't that far from the Great Hall when Harry stopped.

"Harry?" Hermione was eager to get to the meeting.

"You two go ahead, if you want. I'd like to wait for Draco." Harry frowned. "I didn't like the way half of Slytherin was looking at him."

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other.

"No, that's okay, Harry," Ron said. "We'll wait with you." Presently, voices echoed down the corridor they were standing in.

"Leave me alone, Goyle! I've made my decision, now go away!" Draco's voice was filled with anger. Concerned, Harry started back the way they'd come, Ron and Hermione following.

There was a low growl, and then the sound of flesh hitting flesh. Harry broke into a run and rounded the corner, relieved to see Zabini standing over Goyle, who was sitting stunned on the floor.

"Thank you, Blaise" Draco said calmly. "I never realised it was possible to literally knock someone on their arse." He looked up to see Harry standing breathless at the end of the corridor.

"Come along," Draco said to Blaise.

Draco strode calmly toward Harry, Blaise following behind only after leaning down to whisper some threats in Goyle's ear.

"You all right?" Harry asked, still concerned that there had been trouble.

Draco smirked, pecking Harry on the cheek.

"Of course I'm all right, Harry. That bloody idiot thought he could make me change my mind simply by threatening me. When I refused, he tried to grab me, but Blaise was faster, knocked him on his arse. . ."

"Which brings up another question," growled Ron. "Why's he here at all?"

Harry shot him a warning look, but Blaise answered calmly.

"Draco told me and Pansy everything on the train-- people are going to know soon enough, right? And, well, I'm tired of the name of Slytherin being synonymous with 'Death Eater in Training'. Draco's made his choice, and so have I. I may be a Slytherin, but that doesn't mean I support You-Know-Who. But in this, I do support Draco. And I want to help, in whatever way I can, even if it's only knocking morons like Goyle on their arse."

Ron scowled, but held his tongue when Hermione, none too subtly, stepped on his toes. Harry looked long and hard into Blaise's eyes, then turned to Draco.

"Do you trust him?" was all he asked.

Draco nodded.

"He's always been very open with the fact that he doesn't support You-Know-Who. . . up until now, the rest of the House pretty much ignored that. I suppose now, they can't."

"Then we'll take him."

Ron drew breath to protest, but Harry cut him off.

"Ron, he'll be with you."

Blaise looked concerned.

"Are you sure, Potter? Weasley is . . .not exactly fond of my house. . ."

Harry looked at Ron.

"I understand your concern, Zabini, but Ron is actually quite a bit more intelligent than most Slytherins believe. As long as you don't cause him any trouble, you two should be fine."

Ron scowled, and Blaise looked to Draco, who nodded.

"Very well, I'll try to play nice. Now, don't we have a meeting to get to?"

The others nodded and turned around, walking quickly in the direction of the meeting room. Harry and Draco led the way, and Draco slipped his hand into Harry's with deceptive ease. Harry smiled happily.

Walking behind them, Blaise was amazed at what he saw. It was one thing to hear about Draco's and Potter's new relationship, quite another to see it. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Weasley and Granger watching him with carefully blank faces. Understanding, he spoke softly.

"I am very glad to see that," he said simply, gesturing at the couple.

Ron nodded.

"Me, too.

The staff room now contained a single, large table surrounded by chairs. Many of the teachers were already there when the students arrived--Professor Sprout was sitting next to Neville Longbottom, who looked pale but determined. Sitting near them were Professor Vector, Professor Lupin, Professor Flitwick, Hagrid, and Professor McGonagall. Harry was happy to see two members of the Order there as well--Kingsley Shacklebolt and Tonks.

Draco and Harry headed to the front of the table while the others found seats. The only people missing were Professors Snape and Dumbledore. Draco quietly asked about the two members of the Order, not having met them over the summer, and not remembering Tonks from his childhood. As Harry answered, the door opened once more to admit Professor Snape and the Headmaster.

"Mr. Zabini," Snape looked almost surprised. "Are you sure you want to be here?"

The student lifted his head with pride.

"I am. Are you?"

Snape smirked.

"Very well. I don't think I need to remind you to be discreet about my presence here?"

Blaise smirked back in answer.

Draco cleared his throat.

"Gentlemen, if we could begin?"

Snape lifted an eyebrow--Draco certainly had learned his lessons from his father.

Draco continued as Harry whispered a charm.

"You all now know the situation I found myself in this summer, and what I've decided to do about it." Squares of light appeared before everyone, each one containing a brief summary of the situation as a review.

"Harry here has graciously agreed to help me, and has also decided to change the ritual so that the relationship established by it will change from slave-master to, hopefully, partner-partner, of more or less equal status. You have all been brought here because we need your assistance, either in the ritual itself, or in an auxiliary role.

"What we'd like to do tonight is to go over the ritual, who and what are needed for it, and the preparations we have to make in the next two months. All right?."

Heads nodded around the table, the gravity of the situation keeping everyone silent.

"OK, first, let's cover location. Now, the ritual calls for 'a place where the Veil between worlds in thin'. I know that You-Know-Who was planning to use an ancestral graveyard, Harry, what did you have in mind?"

Harry picked up the thread.

"There were two possible places once I became the lead in the ritual. The first is the graveyard where my parents are buried, wherever that is. The second is the Veil Room in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic. The latter location would be better, I am all too familiar with it, and it is much easier to handle as a defensive position. But getting there without difficulty could be a problem.

"Professor Dumbledore, I know that you have connections in the Department of Mysteries. Do you think you could smooth the way for us without anything seeming awry to those who might be watching?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"I have two months to do so. The only stumbling block will be the fact that you need it on the night of Samhain, when the Veil thinnest. They may think it's dangerous; however, I'm sure I can find a way of convincing them to let us use it. I've already got someone in mind to speak to."

"So," Harry concluded, "can we count on the Veil Room as the location?"

Dumbledore inclined his head.

"May I suggest, however, that I take you to your parents' graves at least once before then? I have no doubt it's being watched, and should they see you there, perhaps taking measurements. . ."

Harry smiled.

"That seems like a good idea, Professor. Thank you."

Draco picked up the thread again.

"Next to discuss are the people needed for the ritual itself. Let's start with the Guardians of the Quarters. The original calls for the following: In the North, Beelzebub, in the West, Belial, in the South, Shai'tan, and in the East, Asmodeus. Now, as we won't be binding demons, because of the effect that would have on the relationship to be established, we had to go looking in the other Devic Kingdoms. Elementals and Faeries are, let's face it, too untrustworthy to work with on something this scale, and binding them is always considered a bad idea. This left only angels to work with, since that sort of magical relationship is closest to the goal relationship. Harry?"

Harry touched his wand to the square of light in front if him, and everyone else's square suddenly held a circle with four names written in.

"We're going to work with the standard angel circle," he said. "In the East, Raphael, in the South, Michael, in the West, Gabriel, and in the North, Uriel. We will need place markers for them. Now, I've got the Wand for the South, but I'll need the Blade for the East, the Chalice or Cup for the West and the Stone for the North. Sir, do you think you could help with this, too?"

Dumbldore nodded once more.

"I believe I know what to use," he said, smiling gently.

Harry turned back to Draco, letting him continue.

"All right," he said. "Next are the Four Witnesses, of which two must be living and two must not be." In the squares of light, another circle formed inside the previous one. "For the Living Witnesses, we'd like to ask Professor Snape and Professor Lupin. What do you say?"

Both had known this was coming, and both silently agreed. Their names now appeared in the squares of light.

"As for the Witnesses of the Dead," Harry said, "we're planning on using Lily Potter and Sirius Black." The silence this time was shocked.

"Are you sure about this Harry?" asked Neville quietly. "I don't mean to doubt you, but it smacks of Necromancy. . ."

"That's because it is, Neville." Harry's face was devoid of expression, and under the table Draco took his hand again. "But we have no choice. This was one of the things we couldn't change. We chose those two because we think Sirius would most likely agree to witness for Draco, despite his antagonism with Draco's other witness, Professor Snape, because of something Draco did for me, a few days ago. And we chose my mother because we thought that she could keep Sirius in line better than my father would." Harry drew breath to say more, but then decided not to.

"So," Snape said slowly, "I would be standing next to Black for this?"

Draco sighed.

"Unless you have a better suggestion, Sir. . ."

The Potions master shook his head.

"Unfortunately, you may be right. And I do hope you are right about your mother, Potter."

"I hope I am, too, Sir," replied Harry. Two more names appeared on the screens as Draco squeezed Harry's hand.

"Next," Draco continued. "The ritual calls for representatives of the Old Celtic God-types. Two male, for Day and Night, and the three women, Maiden, Mother, and Crone. Harry and I will be the two male representatives; we don't need to designate Day or Night, as long as there's two of us. For Mother, we're hoping that Lily Potter could double in this role, since the witnesses may double in other roles if needed. For Maiden we've chosen Granger."

All eyes turned toward Hermione.

"Of course I'll do it," she said calmly. "What exactly will I need to do?"

Harry smiled reassuringly.

"Just lend your energy to the proceedings. And don't get pregnant between now and then."

Hermione winked at him as her name was added to the squares of light, a crescent now forming off of one circle.

"That reminds me," Ron said, "Malfoy could get pregnant, too. How are you going to handle this?"

Snape cleared his throat,

"Once the bond is complete, pregnancy will only occur if both parties involved make a conscious decision to have a baby. Both Potter and Draco will have to have made that decision, so unlike real females, Draco cannot accidentally get pregnant. Before the ritual, they must abstain. The changes going on in Draco will not be complete until his birthday. If he loses his virginity before that date, the organs will stop growing. Being incomplete, his body will reject them, and the shock of that could kill him. Since some in the magical aristocracy still place high value in male and female virginity at marriage, it wasn't that hard for his parents to threaten him and place additional . . . deterrents. However, since he's left his home, I imagine those charms are no longer working."

He glared at Harry, as though Draco had already been doomed.

Harry sighed, the image of two months of cold showers vivid in his mind. He turned to Draco, who winked at him.

"Think we can do it?" Harry whispered, mock-seriously.

Draco grimaced lightly.

"With death as the alternative, I should have no problem."

Harry squeezed his hand gently.

"Now," Draco turned to the room, "who did we choose for Crone?"

"For Crone," Harry continued, "we'd like to ask you, Professor McGonagall."

The Professor addressed drew herself up.

"What?" she said. "You boys don't think I'd make a good Maiden?" The sparkle in her eyes betrayed her humor. "Of course I'll do it."

"Thank you, Professor." Harry said as her name appeared. "Who do we have left, Draco?"

"Hmm, the Judge, the Foundation, and Control. For Judge, the old ritual had Sammael, we're replacing him with Metatron. The Foundation had been Lilith, but we're changing to Haniel."

There were some raised eyebrows, but no objections, so Harry continued.

"Finally, for Control, we have chosen Neville Longbottom."

There was a moment of shocked silence, and then,

"HAVE YOU GONE MAD?!" The bellow was easily identified as Professor Snape's.

Draco scowled as Harry answered.

"Maybe," he said. "But the person who is Control must be as astrologically close to being a twin to me as possible, because that person is acting in my stead while I'm busy with other things. Can you think of anyone else, Sir?"

Snape grimaced.

"Of course not," he snapped. "Only Longbottom's record is not--"

"As bad as commonly thought," Harry interrupted. "Sorry, Sir. Neville acquitted himself very well in June, and besides, he won't have to make any potions. I have every confidence in his abilities, Sir."

Snape took a deep breath.

"Headmaster?" he asked.

Dumbledore looked at Neville.

"How do you fell about this, Mr Longbottom?"

Neville swallowed nervously.

"I think I can do it, Sir," he said. "If I practice every day for the next two months, I should be fine. I would like to help," he added, sitting up straighter.

Snape looked surprised at this sudden showing of spine.

"Now that I think about it, I did hear something about you being able to summon a Patronus. . .what was it again, a kitten?"

"It's a tiger!" Neville snapped, before realising whom he'd spoken to. "Erm, it's a tiger, Sir."

Dumbledore chuckled.

"It seems, gentlemen, that you have a Control." Neville's name was added to the squares.

"Erm," Ron raised his hand, "what is it that the Control does, exactly?"

Professor McGonagall answered this.

"The Control in this ritual acts almost like a second lead. Everyone in the circle will be contributing their energy to it, but someone must be sure that the individual energies are balanced--too much of one person could rip the fabric of the newly-forming bond. Ideally, it would be the lead who did this, but in this ritual, Potter will be quite busy with other, ah, activities. So the Control has to be someone else who is magically considered almost him--in this case, Mr. Longbottom. He must manage our energy flows and make sure no one energy overpowers any of the others. It's a delicate task, but with practice, he should be just fine."

Harry looked back at Ron, who nodded his understanding.

"Excellent," Harry said. "That's all the people we need for the ritual itself. Now, we also need a small statue of a stag, and small statue of a cobra, a bottle of wine--preferably a red, some salt, an Invisibility Cloak for Professor Snape's safety, if the Death Eaters should manage to get in, some, er, bedding--sheets, some pillows, things like that, Portkeys to return here with, and the potions on this list." Harry passed the list to Professor Snape, who glanced at it without comment. "We can take care of most of those things except the Portkeys, which Professor Dumbledore will take care of, and the statues. Hagrid, could you help with that?"

"O' course, Harry," Hagrid said. "I know jes' the place to look!"

Harry smiled before continuing,

"Since we can't count on the Death Eaters not finding us before we've left, we also need people to guard and defend the doors to the room. Ron, I'd like you to organise the defence. Mr. Shacklebolt and Tonks have volunteered to help, as have your brothers though they couldn't make it here tonight, and I've got a feeling Zabini won't be the only volunteer once word leaks out to the school."

Ron nodded solemnly.

"Of course I'll help, Harry. But why am I in charge? Shouldn't it be someone. . . older? Maybe Professor Moody?"

Harry shook his head.

"You may not have realised it, Ron, but you've got the best strategic mind in Hogwarts. Professor Moody, for instance, can't beat a certain Professor at chess-- but you have. Pick your players, Ron, and field your team. You'll do well."

Ron expression brightened in the face of Harry's confidence.

"And lastly," drawled Draco, "we'll need a lot of extra tutoring in the next two months. Professor Vector, as Professor of Arithmancy, I assume you're also well versed in Mageometry?" The witch nodded in affirmation, and Draco continued, "Would you be willing to make sure Harry's layout is correct? He'll have to trace it in salt, so we need all the angles right."

"Of course. Mr Potter, let me know when you'd like to meet."

Harry thanked her, then turned to Professor Flitwick and asked for help with certain charms needed, and then they asked Professor Sprout for the use of certain herbs that weren't kept in stock, which they needed for the potions.. Neville made sure to ask Professors Flitwick and McGonagall for help in preparing for his task; they agreed willingly, both secretly dreading the consequences if he wasn't prepared.

Finally, the meeting was winding down. Everything had been covered, and no one seemed to have any questions. Harry and Draco thanked everyone once more, before leaving.

Once out in the hallway, Harry leaned against Draco, feeling a bit exhausted.

"That could have been worse," he said.

Draco wrapped his arms around him.

"As strange as it still seems, I missed you today."

"I missed you, too," said Harry, nuzzling Draco's neck. "I guess we got so used to spending so much time together. . ." He smiled as Draco pulled his face back. "But, at least we get to see each other now."

Draco smiled, but didn't answer. Instead, he leaned in, delighting in the feel of Harry's lips against his own. Harry moaned, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss, and both became so lost in each other that neither noticed the door to the meeting room opening, as everyone else began to leave.

"Well," said Blaise, eyebrows raised "this wasn't something I thought I'd see."

Ron snorted.

"It's still strange for me. I don't think I'll ever get used to it."

At this Draco finally broke the kiss.

"Oh, I think you'll get numb to it, Weasley, once you see it enough. And you will." He turned his attention back to Harry, who had been pressing kisses all along his cheek and neck.

"Come on, Ron." Hermione said. "We got him all day, let's give them some time to each other." She began walking away, dragging Ron after her by the sleeve. Blaise merely moved to the opposite wall, not really minding the show.

Soon, the Professors came out of the room, and while they all noticed the two quietly snogging boys, none of them said anything, each one thinking that such affections could only help the task they had before them. Soon, Blaise was left alone with the two boys.

He delicately cleared his throat.

"As much as I hate to break this up," he said, "I don't think Draco should return to the dungeons alone. And I'm pretty worn out, so we've got to go soon."

Harry and Draco reluctantly drew apart, each stealing a few more kisses from the other as they did so. Harry turned to Blaise.

"Thank you for looking out for him," he said, meaning it.

Blaise smiled.

"No, Potter, thank you for giving him a chance. For giving both of us a chance." He held out his hand, and Harry shook it firmly.

Draco gave Harry one last peck on the cheek before saying goodnight. The two Slytherins left for the dungeons, and Harry went up to Gryffindor tower. Both Harry and Draco keenly missed each other's warmth before they had taken even ten steps.

From The Prodigal Dragon:

I don't think I'll ever forget how surprised I was when Harry accepted Blaise simply on my word. The amount of trust that took humbled me far more than I would ever have let on, and I still don't know what I did to earn it.

Or, maybe I didn't. Maybe, like grace, Harry's trust is something sometimes given to those who haven't proven themselves, because he has this strange . . . faith in people. And far more often than not, it is a faith that ends up proving itself. As if people become worthy of his trust simply because he decides to give it to them, not the other way around. Even to this day, I am baffled by how this works. But, I suppose, that's where my faith comes in. Because I don't even question it now. How can I, when everything I am is a direct result of him giving me that same trust?

It is very strange for me to say it, but I will. Nothing humbles me more, and nothing fills me with more pride, than when my beloved says, "I believe you". I am saved, by his faith alone. But it is his love which keeps me alive.

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