Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters and I am not making any money off of this. Don't sue, I'm poor. I also haven't read book five or six and don't care that I haven't!

A.U. and Mpreg a.k.a. Male pregnancy. DM/HP, I mean it that way, not the other. Also known as dominant Draco and submissive Harry.

"Win At Any Cost"

By GreyPenInk

Part 1

Grey, dispassionate eyes watched the Boy-Who-Lived step out of the muggle car. The train station's clock tower struck seven as the boy lugged his suitcase out of the trunk. The blonde's glaze shifted from the little brunette to the gold trimmed wooden box in his own hands. In the beautifully crafted box was the key to victory. In that cherry wood box was just the right item to end the war and insure the defeat of the 'Light' side. Yet as he ran his pale fingers over the golden Malfoy crest on the lid he was reminded of the price he too would have to pay.

Looking up he was shocked to realize he had lost track of Potter. A quick scan showed him disappearing into the men's restroom. Hurriedly marching over he reached the door at the same time as an older muggle man.

The elder groused, "Respect your elders boy! Move aside!"

To that the Malfoy heir responded with; "Know and respect your betters peasant. Leave now." It was the combination of his powerfully harsh stare, the authority in his voice, the thinly veiled deadly threat that radiated off him; which sent the sent the aged man running at his top possible speed.

Focusing once again on his plan, he used a bit of wandless magic to spell the door he faced. He exhaled sharply, readied his wand in his hand, his spell on his tongue and entered the lavatory. Draco wasted no time, before Harry Potter's eyes could even locked on to his in the bathroom mirror where he was washing his hands; he was hit with a full body-bind spell. The stiff body fell back, fell back into waiting arms that were suddenly there. Draco's arms wrapped around his targets waist, holding the dark skinned one to his taller frame.

Harry desperately wanted to get away. He tried to move, tried to throw off the body bind spell but all he could do was look into cold flat eyes and feel a chill seep into his body. When the hands began to run over his body their warmth only chilled him more. The hands stopped over his pocket and pulled out his wand. Harry's insides went from cold to frozen as he watched the Malfoy heir confiscate his wand and put it somewhere in the depths of his black robe. Instead of coming back empty handed a box decorated with gold was set on the bathroom counter. Deep emerald eyes moved to look into light grey eyes that he knew normally should have been several shades darker.

Draco's gaze motioned meaningfully to the box before returning back to his. With the uses of his wandless magic the lid was lifted and a silver gun lying on top of a parchment was revealed. Harry's breath stopped upon sight of the gun but it was his heart that stopped when the gun's muzzle was put to his temple. The blonde's hand with the gun in it slowly rocked back, mimicking the movement of a gun's recoil after being shot then moved to repeat the motion at his own temple. As Harry's felt the cold metal replace back on his head he understood the taller boy's meaning. The pale one would kill him first and then himself. He understood the meaning but not the reason. The Gryffindor watched the confusion fill his own orbs in the mirror. He looked again to his captor; however Draco wasn't looking at him, he was looking at he folded paper in the box. With the gun no longer on top of the parchment Harry could see it was a contract of some sort. The gun was moved away from his skin but stayed aimed at his head. A bit of magic moved the older boy's left sleeve of his robe to show the dark mark that was there. In the mirror he could see one of Draco's eyebrow arch in a question; which would it be, immediate death with the muggle gun or an unknown contract with a known Death Eater?

He knew it was stupid, yet he closed his eyes. Harry needed to think. If he chose death he would die here and now. He would never get to finish off Voldemort. He would never have his revenge. He would be killed by one of his most hated people in the world. He would have no chance at a life after the war. Yet he would not have to make a deal with a Death Eater, more specifically with Draco Malfoy. If he chose the contract it could still mean death or something else. If it were something else, would it give him the opportunity to still kill Voldemort? Would he be able to get back at Malfoy for this, because he sure as bloody hell wanted to! There was no guaranty that Draco would actually kill himself once he was dead, though it would spare the Order of the Phoenix the trouble. Death was too good for him, Azkaban all the way. Yet for himself, what could be worse then death? Quite honestly he didn't want to die, but could he live with himself for living on Malfoy's terms? In every contract there were loopholes, and if the need were great enough, which he was sure they would be, he could always break their deal.

Large eyes opened and settled on the contract in the box, unwavering even when the gun was again at his temple. It was only the growl from behind that moved the deep green gaze once more to the mirror. Draco Malfoy's eyes were alight and nearly white with a fiery rage that glowed and shown through his mask of uncaring calm.

Draco could hardly believe it. That stupid, cowardly Gryffindor was supposed to be a good little martyr and choose death! That had been the only way out of this. What the fuck was Potter thinking! He glared at the smaller male before slipping the gun into a pocket of his robe. He needed a large breath to forcibly calm down and look at Potter. For the first time in his life he really looked at Harry Potter. He brought his right hand up to the other boy's face and held back the black bangs to see the famous scar that lay beneath. While looking at the famous mark he could feel Harry's left eye look at him, his right eye closed in order to not be poked by the meat of palm. Now was as good a time as any. Wandlessly he lengthened, sharpened and thickened the nails on his right hand and quickly brought them down the right side of Harry's face.

Harry would have screamed in pain if he had any control over his body. As it was, it was his mind that was screaming and cursing. It took a great effort to open his eyes; he didn't know when he had closed them. His vision in his right eye was a little demented due to the deep scratches in his glasses, yet better his glasses than his eyes. The rest of his face hadn't been protected by the eyewear; five gashes ran from his forehead to his jaw. In the far back portion of his mind there was a morbid fascination that the body bind spell not only froze his magic and limbs but also kept his blood from running and bleeding.

A movement on the counter caught his attention; Malfoy was smearing his blood on the parchment, which was starting to glow. Harry felt a warmth creep into him as he watched he paper glow.

Draco wasn't done with the contract; with his razor-sharp nails he cut the tips of each of his own fingers and added his blood to the contract. Unlike Harry he was bleeding though lightly, before the blood could stop he ran his fingers over the wound he had cause. Just as he expected his blood was absorbed by the wound, which seemed to heal itself at contact.

The Boy-Who-Lived wasn't sure what to be more surprised at, the contract glowing with blinding intensity, his body heating up to a feverish degree or all traces of Draco's claws vanishing from his face, including the pain. When the contract went back to its normal non-luminous state he was startled to realize he was actually leaning against Draco. Not the stiff leaning as would come from the body-binding spell, instead it was the type of full body relaxed type of leaning. Having control over his body again he struggled to break free of the blonde's iron grip around his waist but all it did was draw out an angry growl from the taller male. The moment Harry heard that sound his body went limp and all fight left him physically. In his mind he was yelling to himself to move, clobber Draco, to not give up, to fucking do something however all his mental yelling could not get his body to do so much as twitch a finger.

When he felt Harry slump he was certain that the contract had begun working. Oh the next five years would be long, he pause to look at the other, so very, very long. Harry's body might be 'adjusting' but if the look on his face was anything to go by Harry himself was not. Now would probably be time to begin explaining.

Clearing his throat Draco started; "That contract is signed with our blood and has already begun to take place. Both your Gryffindor ancestors and my long-standing line drew it an extremely long time ago. That document binds us together and will keep us like such for five years after a … certain event." He growled again when he saw Harry was about to speak which once more silenced the brunet. "Your body is changing, it will take the next five days to fully modify into what it will need to be to fulfill the complete agreement.
Until the time of the fulfillment of the contract you will be living with me in the Malfoy Manor. We will both not be attending Hogwarts this year, though you will be well cared for. All other information will be given to you after we arrive at the manor." Draco deliberately let go of Harry then and the smaller boy shot away.

"What the bloody fucking hell are you fricking on? There is no blooming way I'll ever go to your wretched house! I am not going to spend five years with horrid you! Ancestors or not and contract or not, it is just not happening!" Yelled the severely freaked out Gryffindor as he tried to force the lavatory exit door open to no avail.

Draco looked calmly at him. "That door will not let you out. You have no way out, nor do you have a choice." Seeing that Harry was now trying to use wandless magic to open the door he simply commanded one word. "Sleep!"

It was the last thing Harry heard before a wave of exhaustion swallowed him and he sank deep into the dark waters of unconsciousness leaving his body to pool ungracefully on the floor.

Grey, dispassionate eyes watched the Boy-Who-Lived lie there for a few moments before placing the silver gun and Harry's wand in the wooden box. Taking out his own wand he shrank it down to the size of a ring box and placed it in his right pocket. From his left robe pocket he pulled out two specialized portkeys, both shaped like bronze bracelets. Moving over to the sleeping boy he place the bracelet on and tapped it twice. Instantly Harry was sent to his home, more specifically to his room.

After putting the second the bracelet on himself he paused. The very last thoughts that ran through Draco's mind the instant prior to portkeying home were; 'Everything so far has gone as Father has planned and I can see the genius of the whole plan. Still it would be so much more appealing if Potter wasn't my wife now!'

TBC