Written for slash_fest on LJ - Promter: animeartistjo

Warning: Mild violence, Mild sex, swearing, character death (not Harry or Draco) Ginny-bashing of some sort

Disclaimer: Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling and those to whom she has licensed her creations, including without limitation Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. I make no money from this and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Important A/N:

This fic plays out five years after The Half Blood Prince and completely disregards the plot in The Deathly Hollows.

Background:

Voldemort has gone into hiding, only showing himself when a deed of terrorism can be done.

After the death of Dumbledore, Severus Snape fled the country with Draco Malfoy in tow - nobody has seen them since.

Harry Potter is now a Special Unspeakable Agent, specialised on Death Eaters and Horcrouxes. He answers to Head of Magical Intelligence Special Service Hermione Granger.

And now on with the show!

BOOOM!

Harry ran. When he felt the heat on his back he jumped of the ground, supporting with his right leg. Bending forward at the waist and raising his hands, he let the wave of the explosion push him. Taking to the ground, hands first, he rolled to a protective position and continued to roll on the ground until he was safe behind one of buildings in Diagon Alley.

"Damn!" shouted a terrified Ginny Weasley by his side, still shaking of the ropes that had held he captured. "What the fuck was that?"

Harry wondered the same. Carefully he looked around the corner to the former Gringrotts' Bank building. There were mere ruins left of the once prestigious office house. Screams and cries were everywhere. Sirens were going off, glass shattered, someone was laughing his heart out.

"Riddle!" swore Harry standing right up.

There among the masses stood Voldemort, a frantic look on his snakelike face. The laughter pinched Harry's scar and made him grind his teeth. A couple of Death Eaters was there as well.

He could send an AK to the monster now. Tare that retched soul from that retched body. But that would not stop the terror. There were still two Horcrouxes out there and they had to be destroyed before the monster could be killed. Killing him now would only lead to that the Dark Lord went looking for a piece of his soul. Then he would find out that most of them were gone. Then he would continue to make new ones, witch meant more killings and more evil to destroy. Harry could not send an AK, but he could send a Sectumsempra for good measure. The spell hit Voldemort in the face; there was a scream, several pops of Disapparation, and then silence.

Harry ventured forward, wand in hand. Carefully he climbed the steps to the once most secure building in Wizardome, except for Hogwarts. What he saw there made his blood curl. In the rubble, under beams and stone, lay a very dead Bill Weasley.

"Ginny!" he called. "Stay there!"

"What?"

He could here at the sound of her voice that she was not taking his orders.

"Stay!"

It was too late.

The scream that filled the alley was more terrifying than the explosion.


Harry woke up in a strange bed. That meant that he had to go to his hotel to get his baggage before he went to the airport. He looked over to the brown-haired young man sleeping next to him. What was his name? Steve? Stephen? Stephan? He shrugged and threw his side of the sheet over the man. It was not important.

He rose from the bed looking around for his clothes from last night. They were scattered around the room. Harry found his trousers and pulled them on over his bare arse. Picking up his shirt, he noticed something blinking in the shirt pocket. His pager was flashing in an angry red colour. He had heard it sometime in the night but had been to busy to acknowledge it.

"Come home", it said in bold letters.

Behind him the bed stirred.

"Harry?" asked a sleepy voice with German accent.

"I have to go," said Harry looking to the bed.

"So soon?" asked the man, displaying and impressive erection.

"Well, something has come up…"

Harry smirked; he was already unbuttoning his trousers again.


"Miss Lovegood!" exclaimed Harry as he walked into the front office. "You are becoming more pretty every day! When will you let me sweep you off your feet and take you away from all of this?"

"Anytime you want, Harry," smiled the blond secretary airily. "But you and I both know that you have problem with fidelity. In whose bed did you wake up this morning?"

"You are the only woman for me, Miss Lovegood," Harry leaned suggestively over her desk.

"Oh, I know that!" She rolled her big blue eyes. "I just don't feel like sharing you with the hordes of men you surround yourself with."

"They are hardly hordes," said Harry, still in a seductive voice.

"Only because you shag them one at the time, does not diminish their number."

"Ouch," he laughed

"Luna!" came a voice from the intercom. "Stop flirting and let Harry in,"

"Yes Mam," she smiled at Harry.

"Minx," winked Harry and stepped in to the back office.

"Harry," his boss looked up from a file from her desk.

"G," smiled Harry. "Have you done something with your hair?"

She looked at him sternly as only she could. Her intelligent brown eyes were piercing him. But she had done something to her hair; it was not as fizzy as it used to be. He liked it, took out her pretty face.

"We have a lead on Snape" Hermione said turning over the file to him. "Apparently, he has been kidnapped."

"'Severus Snape? Kidnapped?'" laughed Harry. "Who'd want him?"

"Who would not want one of the most brilliant minds of our time?" noted Hermione. "I fear to think if his knowledge would fall in the wrong hands." She eyed him firmly. "He has apparently written a book about all that knowledge."

"A book? Snape?"

"Voldemort wants that book. Damn it! I want that book! Apparently, they can't find the book so the kidnapped him to write it again. We need you to find him, Harry, bring him back and preferably find the book as well."

"We had not seen or heard of Snape for years," he leafed though the file, noting the several 'top-secret'- and "restricted'-stamps. "How are we going to find him now?"

"Draco Malfoy was the one reporting his kidnapping to us."

Malfoy! That name always enraged Harry. He had himself beaten Lucius in a quite glorious wand fight just a few months ago. The elder Malfoy was now rotting in Azkaban. That had been pleasing, but not as pleasing it as it would be to wring the neck of Draco.

"Where shall I start looking?"

"Snape's laboratory is in St. Martinique, in the town of Le Precheur, you'll start there. Malfoy will be there waiting for you." She sat down behind her desk and smirked. "Do try to avoid the beaches, Harry. Would not want you distracted by a pair of skimpy shorts."

"Please 'Mione," Harry blinked innocently. "When have I ever been distracted by anything skimpy?"

"Go get your travel kit from the Weasleys," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Luna has your tickets and new Muggle passport."

"Always a pleasure, Mam."

"And Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Be careful."

"Only for you, Hermione."


"W!" exclaimed Harry as he got down to the research lab. "How are you holding out?"

"Better thanks," Ron pulled him behind a big, clear, plastic screen. "I never did say thank you…"

He was interrupted by a loud bang and a splash of blue goo hitting the screen with a thud. Harry did not raise an eyebrow, he had trained himself too well. Ron smiled.

"Classic!" His red hair stood out and made him look like a mad scientist, witch he was. "Paintbomb," he explained.

"How' the family taking it?"

"Mom's quite upset," Ron handed him a pair of goggles.

"I'm sorry I did not make it to the funeral," Harry put the goggles on.

"Your flowers were much appreciated."

They moved across the floor, avoiding splinters from exploding dummies.

"I wished I could have done more…"

"Bill was an accident," Ron gave him a half a smile. "He was one victim of many…"

Harry nodded. Bill was not the first friend he had lost, but he had been one of the closest. They reached George's worktable. He and Fred were not in today, taking an extended vacation. They and Bill had been closer than any of the Weasley kids.

Ron took out a box from one of the lockers.

"Ginny's taking it better than I thought, she is back to work in communication."

"Good for her. I'm just sorry I did not catch that madman. I had him in my grasp…"

"You saved a lot of people from that bomb," Ron looked saddened. "You made the right choice, letting him go."

He opened the box taking out several amulets and charms.

"But I let him go, after he had taken Ginny hostage..."

"You freed her, you got her back." Ron held up an old roman coin on a leather sting to his wand and examined it.

"But Bill died. And that madman is still loose out there!"

"You'll get him," said Ron confidently. "You'll get him."

Harry nodded and took the coin as Ron offered him it.

"This will protect you against most common hexes, and this…" Ron gave him a dragons tooth on a thin silver chain. "…will protect you from some of the non-common ones."

Taking the charms and putting them over his head and down his shirt, Harry looked on as Ron put away the box again. He was used to getting new amulets before each new mission. Ron took up another box, this one bigger, and began to row things up at the worktop for Harry.

"This is an 'Un-Benevolent Turner'" said Ron holding up something that looked like a compass. "One of Fred's inventions. It'll point you to any Dark Object within a meter."

Harry held the object and watched the arrow turning in circles, stopping, pointing to him.

"Ron…"

"Oh, sorry!" Ron tapped the Turner and the arrow spun again, not locking to anything."

"Quill, with poisonous re-filling ink," continued Ron handing out objects for Harry. "Glasses with camera; left shoe with wizard-space in the soul; right shoe with knife in the toe; tie that stretches to a rope and a Muggle mobile phone – magically enhanced with the usual stuff."

"No broom this time?" asked Harry, lacing his new shoes.

"You destroyed the last five we gave you."

"The last one was not my fault," he protested. "How was I to know there was a brick wall there?"

"The sign that said 'dead end'?"

"Pfft," huffed Harry and tied the rope-tie around his neck.

"And…" Ron took up one of his own quills, not poisonous presumably, and wrote down a spell and some wand movement-instructions on a piece of parchment.

"'Portus includo'?" read Harry, taking the note. "What is it?"

"It will allow you Apparate on the back stream of a Portkey. If you cast it within three seconds after the Portkey is activated." Ron winced. "It is dangerous, so only use in extreme emergency, and keep your limps tight – or you'll loose them."

To prove this point, Ron held up his left hand to Harry. There was a fine scaring circling each of the fingers like rings.

"Ouch."

"Yeah."


Harry leaned against the bar looking out over the beach. He had asked around and found out that the professor and his assistant. 'Blond guy, tattooed' a neighbour had said. 'Usually hangs out down the beach, doing research'.

What kind of research could Malfoy do at the beach, wondered Harry. Except from working though the drinks at the bar and inspecting the latest fashion of swimming wear? Now that is good research.

He had just ordered his second gin and pineapple juice when his eyes were drawn to the sea. There from the waves emerged a god. A pair of diving goggles and a snorkel was pushed of a pointy but angular face and seated on a blond head. Broad shoulders, muscular chest with a light tuff of blond hair covering an angry red scar, hard pecs and…

"Now, that is what I call skimpy shorts," murmured Harry as his eyes travelled down the man's body.

There was the Dark Mark on the arm, but it had been framed by full arm tattooed sleeve, from the shoulder down to the wrist, of colourful pictures depicting flowers, leaves and patterns. It looked really sexy, concluded Harry with a hungry leer. Draco held a net in one hand, from this distance it looked like it contained shells and stones.

A knife was strapped to his hip; Harry recognised it as a transfigured wand.

Harry rose from the bar, leaving the drink behind. This man, no matter that he was Draco Malfoy, was going to spend the night with Harry; he just did not know it yet. It would only be a courtesy to tell him.

The blond man threw his hair to the side out of his eyes and turned to Harry. He raised a fine eyebrow and shifted his weight. Harry turned on his best smile.

"Nice day for a swim," he said, licking his lips.

"Not interested, Potter," said the Adonis even if his eyes measured Harry approvingly. "You are here to do a job."

The hunt was on, Harry so enjoyed the hunt.

Draco bit his lip.

"Honestly, Potter. I thought you'd rip my throat out. Not look like you wanted to lick it from here to Sunday."

"People change…" Harry smiled at the mental image.

Draco smirked that smirk that took Harry back to the time when he hated the blond. It did not work now though, Harry was on the prowl.

"Come on, you pervert," Draco walked over to a sun chair and picked up more things from there, including a pink and orange sarong that he wrapped around his hips. "Let's get back to the lab and I'll fill you in."

Harry snickered, Draco rolled his eyes.

Malfoy had a car. Jeep, army issue, painted yellow. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Don't look so surprised," huffed Draco and put in first gear. "Being stuck on an island with no wizard-community other than loopy voodoo-worshipers, you learn to enjoy Muggle things."

"Loopy voodoo-worshipers?" asked Harry hopping up in the passenger seat.

"Yeah, you should come to one of their parties. Great fun. And the goat-blood goes right off your shirt if you use cold water and salt."

Interesting enough: Draco was a good driver, if he slowed down that is.

"So, what have you two been up to these years?" asked Harry, thinking he should get a little work done in-between the flirting.

"The first fifteen months we were just running and hiding," Draco made a grimace, probably remembering the hardships. "Then uncle Sev found a way to permanently hide us on this island. We have been working here ever since, almost four years now."

"What are you working on?"

"Mostly marine research for the Muggles; that is what pays the bills anyway."

"What about the book?"

"There is no book," snorted the blond. "It is only a stupid rumour. A rumour that Voldemort believes… and apparently you lot as well… Severus is not dumb enough to put important things like that on paper were anyone can find it."

Harry absorbed this. No book; Hermione would be crushed. Draco turned the car up a driveway to a house that looked cosy and lived in, despite its rickety state and flaying sky-blue paint job. There were heavy wards surrounding it.


The inside was just as the outside promised. There were no charms to expand space and no glamours to hide the imperfections. The interior was eclectic and mismatched, but looked completely comfortable. The only thing telling that the house belonged to intelligent wizards, and not couple of beach bums, was the collection of different sized cauldrons scattered about the place. If you looked closely at the things in the kitchen you'd also notice spices that had no place what so ever in preparing food.

"We also do some potions research," continued Draco pushing a drape of shells out of the way and entered another room that appeared to be his bedroom. "But that is of no consequence…"

Harry did not pass the drape but stood outside looking in while Draco changed, appreciating the curves of the lean body. Draco obviously knew he was watched and changed his underwear under the cover of the sarong.

"We were planning to hide here to the end of the war," Draco continued. "I don't know how the Death Eaters found us, but they did. They can not get into the house, but they took uncle Sev from the Muggle marine centre. I had to Obliviate some Muggles because of that."

"Not bad for someone who never graduated school," noted Harry.

"I've been living with a professor for five years, Potter," came the snorted reply. "We have not spent all this time just playing with fish."

He came out of the room, dressed in beige linen shorts, brown sandals and a pink t-shit depicting rainbow-coloured palm trees and a text saying 'welcome to paradise'.

"He was taken three days ago," Draco ignored Harry's amused looks, walked to the kitchen and opened a cupboard with permanent cooling-spells on it. "I have been doing some snooping of my own, waiting for you… Muggle beer?"

"Please," Harry took the cold green bottle, brushing over Draco's fingers. "What have you found out?"

"There is a cell of Death Eaters on Jamaica," Draco took a swig from his bottle. "In Kingston Town. It was most probably there they first brought uncle Sev before removing him from the Caribbean all together."

"Looks like we are going to Jamaica in tomorrow then…" Harry eyed the blond. "What ever will we do to occupy us 'til then?"

"First you are going to take me out to a nice restaurant and then you are going to spend the night in uncle Sev's room."

"And you…?"

"I'll be in my room, under triple wards."

"Do I get a goodnight kiss?"

"Not on the first date."


The evening was spent in a seafood restaurant close to the house and overlooking the beach. Harry had mussels in white wine and Draco ate a salmon-lasagne. They talked about the situation in England and Snape's marine research. The man had apparently taken a keen interest in sea urchins. Harry told Draco about Ginny been taken hostage, the Gringrotts' explosion and Bill's death. Draco had listened solemnly, confessing that he still had nightmares about that last night at Hogwarts when Bill was attacked by Grayback. Harry had put his hand on Draco's and forgiven him.

Though the friendly meal and the fact that Draco had let Harry hold his hand on the last leg home, he was not allowed to kiss him and defiantly not allowed inside his room.

The next day they travelled to Port-de-France in Draco's car. They agreed it was best not to leave a magical trail and were going by plane to Jamaica. The flight took about one and a half hour, witch Harry spent sleeping and Draco spent reading.

It was noon when they checked in to the five star Muggle hotel in Kingston. Harry had called ahead, asking for a double bed.

"Enjoy your stay," said the very neat Rastafarian bell-boy with a wink.

"The sofa looks very nice," said Draco to Harry as they entered to room. "I'm sure you'll be comfortable."

Harry just smiled knowingly.

They took lunch in the hotel restaurant, sitting close, looking over maps and brochures. To any outside on-lookers they would appear as a gay couple on holiday, but they were really magically scanning for high levels of wizard-activity.

The highest level was in the centre of town, but as they investigated it turned out to be a place called Zionville, the Jamaican equality of Diagon Alley. They spent the afternoon there, window-shopping, picking up strings of information and taking a light supper. From the intelligence they had gathered they concluded that the best place to look for the Death Eater cell was at the Royal Casino, a Muggle establishment but owned by wizards.


Harry was born to wear a tuxedo and he knew it. Appreciating looks were drawn to him as he entered the casino. Several women immediately hurried to expose their cleavages a little bit more. Harry smirked and made his way to the bar. He was not stranger to use his charm with women, but only men got to go all the way – that was a rule he kept about ninety percent of the time. He would not mind Luna though. That is if she was not Hermione's closest employee and best female friend. Harry had a thing for blondes.

The blond joining him at the bar a few minutes later looked like he was born into the tuxedo. Draco was jawdropingly handsome, but he did not attract as many of the female looks as Harry did. It was suddenly obvious, dressed like this, that Draco only swung one way. That pleased Harry more than he had realised and he was a little surprised with his feelings. He bought two martinis and gave one to Draco.

"Have you seen anyone?" asked Harry, sipping his drink.

"There is a gray haired wizard at the third roulette table," noted Draco nodding in the direction. "He could be a candidate."

"Let's go play some roulette then," Harry placed a hand on the crock of Draco's back, the blond gave him a look but said nothing.

"Harry?"

At the sound of his name Harry turned around. Ginny Weasley was dressed in a black dress that just reached her knees. She looked pretty with her red hair in a knot and red locks purposely escaping from it.

"Ginns!" smiled Harry. "What are you doing here?"

Ginny gave him a light smile and did a fast glance to the hand still resting on Draco's lower back. Malfoy shifted under Harry's touch.

"I see you found Malfoy," said Ginny pleasantly. "I hope everything is going all right?"

"Just fine, Ginns," Harry's face shifted. "How are you?"

"I'm good," she shrugged. "Hermione gave me some information to give to you. I was going to owl it, but since you are here…" she dug in her black beady handbag. "She said it was a lead on a 'you know what'."

A Horcroux! Harry quickly grabbed the piece of parchment that Ginny held out. It was six months since the last one. Ginny eyed him and his excitement. She did not know what it was, nobody but Harry, Hermione, Ron and the Minister of Magic did, and Voldemort.

"Svalbard?" read Harry, a little surprised.

"That's what she said," Ginny looked over his shoulder. "I have to go. Take care, Harry. Malfoy.

Draco gave a non-committed grunt. Harry watched her leave through a door labled 'personal only'.

"So we're going to Svalbard?" asked Draco leading him to the roulette tables. "That is a change from the tropics."

"I'm going to Svalbard," said Harry. "I do not remember asking you to come with me."

"Potter!" Draco stopped and poked a hard finger to Harry's chest. "If you think you are going to look for my godfather without me, you got another thing coming!"

"Let's talk about this later," Harry sighed.

He had no intention to drag Draco along on a Horcroux-chase. That was too dangerous. Maybe he'd convince the blond to go to the safe house in London. He did not count on it.

Sitting down at the roulette table, he pulled out a hundred dollar marker and placed it casually on the closest red square. Draco stood nonchalantly behind him with one hand in his trouser pocket and one around the martini glass.

Harry observed the grey-haired wizard. The man was about fifty years old, a little overweight in a complimenting way and he had a black eye patch. There were two more wizards behind the man. They were quite bulky and looked dodgy. When the wizard noticed that he was being scrutinised he looked up at Harry.

"Good evening?" he said. "And you are?"

"Black, James Black," smiled Harry. "That is an interesting patch you are wearing, Mr…?"

"Gold," said the man. "Just a momentum from the war... You are in luck Mr Black."

Harry looked down as the croupier pushed a stack of markers towards him. There was about seven hundred dollars there.

"I live by my luck, Mr Gold," Harry placed a hundred dollar marker on the second closest red square. "It is what makes life interesting."

"No doubt," Gold placed his own bet and glanced up at Draco, raising an eyebrow. "You seem to have your luck with you tonight."

"Yes, I am a lucky man," Harry sipped his drink

They played a couple of more rounds in silence, upping the stakes once in a while. There were about five other players at the table, but they were all Muggles. Harry watched as Gold from time to time threw disgusted glances on them. What was interesting though, was that the man also looked at Draco from time to time, not in a way anyone can look at a pretty man but in away you look on a pray.

If Gold was involved in Snape's kidnapping, he would know that Draco was his assistant. Harry decided to test out his theory. Gathering up his winnings he rose from the table.

"Draco, be a dear and cash these in for me?" he said handing the markers to the blond. "I'm just going to the bathroom." He nodded, "Mr Gold."

"Mr Black."

He walked a few steps with Draco before he turned of to the men's room.

"Go back to the hotel as soon as you cashed in," he whispered. "I'll be right behind you, don't be scared."

"Why should I be scared?" came the suspicious question back, but Harry had already turned away. "Po… James!"

Harry ignored him and went of in the direction of the toilets. He stopped behind the corner, looking back. Draco looked pissed, but was walking to the cashier. Not ten seconds later, Mr Gold's goons were there. Harry smirked, so predictable.

Harry followed the goons following Draco through the room and the exit.

Outside Draco took of his tux-jacket, shrinking it to pocketsize, and began walking in the direction of the hotel. He did not seem to know he was followed. The two wizards were on his heals soon enough and looked like they were going to jump him.

Feeling that he could not draw this out any longer, Harry hurried up.

"Looking for something, gentlemen?"

"Butt out," said the taller one of the thugs. "Is none of you business."

"If you are following my friend, I think that is all of my business."

"Imoblillus!"

It was only thanks to his skill, the charms under his shirt and prompt reactions Harry was able to cast a Protego fast enough. Casting some quick spells to disarm and confuse he moved around to get closer.

They were surprisingly good at defending themselves, but Harry still got the upper hand on both of them. Disarming the taller with a Expelliamus, Harry concentrated on the other one, who has gone on to cast some really nasty cutting hexes.

He was taken by surprise when he was tackled to the ground and hit on the jaw so his lip broke. With a tight grip on his wand he cast defensive spell against a Crucio and kicked his attacker of him at the same time.

Turning around, quickly getting to his knees he managed to stun the wand-wielding wizard and knock the other one to his side. Spitting blood, Harry put his wand to the man's throat.

"Tell me where you took Snape!" he growled.

"I'm not telling you…" rasped the man.

"Do you like your balls?" asked Harry pushing his wand between the man's legs.

"Niagara Falls!" squeaked the man hurriedly.

"Good boy," Harry rose to his feet. "Obliviate."

He turned and cast another Obliviate at the stunned man. Then he quickly left them and hurried after Draco to the hotel.

Niagara Falls, he thought as he walked. It was a good clue, but Snape was probably not there anymore. And then there was the Horcroux. That defiantly overweighed Snape. He must go to Svalbard before Niagara Falls. Harry had no plans what so ever explaining Horcrouxes to Draco. Besides, Draco must go to London and the safe house. It was best for everybody, especially for Harry who was quite distracted having the blond around.

The concierge looked a little chocked when Harry entered the doors with his ruffled clothing and bleeding lip.

"Shall I call a doctor, sir?" he asked giving Harry a napkin. "The police?"

"I'm fine," Harry took the offered cloth. "Nothing to worry about. Has my friend returned yet?"

"Yes, just five minutes ago."

"Thank you," he looked at the blood. "I think I'll just go to bed."

"Yes, sir. Good night. Are you sure…?"

"Good night."

Harry walked to the lift, ignoring the glances he got from the staff and other guests. They were probably suspecting some kind of 'gay-bashing', and Harry felt just fine with that. Muggle-excuses were the simplest for the moment.

"What the fuck happened to you?" Draco came out from the bathroom wearing a white hotel-bathrobe. "You are bleeding!"

"Can you do a good healing spell?" Harry winched at the pain in his lip. "Mine are crap and always leave a scar."

"I do great healing spells," said Draco and summoned his wand. "You don't work in marine biology without learning to take care of yourself. It is not good to go swimming with badly healed wounds in shark-waters, you know."

"Good," Harry sat down on the bed and let Draco take care of him.

"How did you get this anyway?"

"Gold's men followed you, probably going to kidnap you too. I took care of them."

Draco stopped his administrations and stared at him.

"Thank you," Draco smiled.

"You are welcome," Harry did not feel the need to mention that he had used the blond as bait.

"There you go," Draco stroked his thumb over Harry's healed lip.

They looked at each other. Harry placed a small kiss on the thumb. Draco bit his lower lip. Slowly Harry leaned forwards until his lips were touching Draco's. First they were touching lightly, but as Harry moved closer the intensity heightened. He leaned into the kiss, claiming the other man's mouth. Draco's fingers moved over his neck and shoulder, his own hands drifting under the bathrobe.

"Are we leaving for Svalbard tomorrow?" asked Draco in a low voice.

"I am," breathed Harry against the delicious neck. "You are going to London."

"Harry?"

"Mmm?"

"The sofa."

"What sofa?"

"The sofa you are sleeping on tonight."

Harry finally noticed that Draco was not kissing back anymore. He sat back and tried to focus on something else than those lips.

"What?"

Draco had closed the robe, crossing his arms over it.

"You heard me."

"You can't…!"

"Severus is my godfather and he is my only friend!" growled Draco, making use of his given name. "Besides, what ever spells they want from him, isn't it more likely that I can disarm it than you?"

Harry frowned, he had not thought of it that way. He had never been a thinker, more a man of action. But he could still not take Draco with him to find the Horcroux…

"And…" the blond gave him a Slytherin smile. "I think… you want…" he pushed the robe of his painted shoulder, "… me to… Come. With. You."

Harry licked his lips at the patterns of colour inked to the smooth skin. He wanted to follow those patterns with his teeth.

"You drive a hard bargain, Draco Malfoy," he said.

"That is not the only thing I drive hard," he pushed the robe away to make his point.

"Yeah," mused Harry gliding down to kneel on the floor. "I've seen your car."


"What did you do with my money?" asked Harry.

He had slept (when he finally fell asleep) like a baby and was feeling happier this morning than in a long time. Draco was sitting on the bed putting on his sandals and Harry was the enjoying the sight of him leaning over.

"I bought us some things for our trip," Draco nodded to a suitcase that had not been there yesterday.

Harry walked over and opened it. There were, among other things; knitted sweaters, thick jackets, padded trousers, long johns, boots and woollen socks.

"Were in Jamaica, for Merlin's sake!" Harry burst out. "How did you get hold of this stuff?"

"Have you ever heard of magic, Potter? It is a kind of neat thing that we wizards can do."

"Wanker."

"Only once before breakfast, love," Draco winked and left the hotel room. "I'm hungry."

"By the way," said the blond when Harry caught up. "I got us a Portkey to Longyeartown at ten a clock, I did not know where on Svalbard you wanted to go, but there is only like five real towns on the entire islands."

"You seen to be on top of things," mused Harry.

"Well, I figured it was my turn," Draco wrinkled his nose in a sexy way and pushed the button to the lift. "You were probably just going to barge off without even putting socks on first."

Harry smiled and looked down on his toes visible though his own sandals. Actually he had planned to buy a jacket before he left, but this was much better.

Breakfast was a little uncomfortable since Draco insisted on glamouring a painless bruise on Harry's lip. The hotel manager himself came to their table and complimented the food. It was the least he could do, he said kindly. Harry blushed and Draco asked for another cup of coffee.

After they paid for the room, sans breakfast, they went back up and dressed in their new clothes. It felt a little silly to be putting on the heavy down jacket when it was 30 degrees Celsius outside the window. Draco pulled up an old corkscrew from his pocket.

"Hold on," he said. "Time."

They whisked away to the northern hemisphere.

They landed in a snowy backstreet behind some blue barracks. The shock of cold hit them both, but probably Draco the worst since he had been living in the tropics for the last five years; Harry had been in foggy London five days ago. Harry cast a heating spell over himself and a double over his companion. Draco muttered a thanks, still hugging himself.

"Heello" a short Eskimo woman wearing a sealskin coat and a necklace made from various animal teeth came up to them. "Is you come wit' Key?" she asked in a Nordic accent. "No many do."

She was probably no more than thirty, even if there were sunburned wrinkles at the sides of her eyes. Harry smiled at the witch.

"I'm from the English Ministry," he held up his wand. "We have heard reports of strange happenings here."

"Ya," she nodded. "Was old Tomo who seen strange bjorn do bad magic."

"A what?"

"Bjorn… er," she raised up her hands showing something really big. "Is white…" she held up her necklace indicating a dangerous looking tooth.

"She means a bear," said Draco, stomping his feet behind Harry.

"Ya! Beer!" nodded the woman showing healthy gum. "Strange beer wizard. He always angry on Muggla, cast bad magic on Muggla.

"Sound like the man we are looking for," nodded Harry. "Where does this bear live?"

"Over hill," she pointed out to the barren snowy landscape behind the barracks. "Not far."

Two hours later Harry was almost dragging Draco behind him by the hand.

"Not far, my ass," muttered the blond. "I'm freezing."

"Do you want another heating charm?"

"Yeah, mine are crap."

Harry cast the spell and Draco's cheeks looked a little pinker.

"We'll soon be there."

"Why bring uncle Sev to this place?" asked Draco. "What can he do for them out here?"

"Err…" Harry looked around. "Maybe they just hid him here…"

"Potter," Draco narrowed his eyes. "What are you not telling me?"

Harry was saved from answering by the sight of a small cottage. He pointed it out to Draco who looked much relived. They Apparated the last five hundred meters, just because they could, no one were going to look for magical traces out here anyway.

"Let me do the talking," said Harry and knocked on the door.

An almost Hagrid-sized man opened the door, staring down at them from under bushy brown eyebrows. He had middle-European complexion and was wearing a polar bearskin-coat.

"Do you speak English?" asked Harry holding up his wand for display.

"I am English," grunted the man, now glaring at Draco and breathing hard.

"Ehm…" Draco's voice was harsh when he tugged Harry's arm. "Potter, I suggest we run…"

"What do you mean…? Oh shit!"

Before Harry had finished his sentence, the large man had transfigured into a large polar bear with large teeth. The Animagus roared. Harry cast a Protego on pure impulse before he allowed himself to be pulled by Draco to a run. There was another roar behind them and the sound of big paws hitting hard snow. A quick glance over his shoulder and Harry saw the great bear shaking off the glowing stag.

"Move!" he called, casting a stunner that just bounced of the bear.

"Shit!"

Draco had stopped running and Harry plummeted right in to him. As he turned he saw another polar bear, this time a real one.

The real polar bear, a big lone male, looked at them, then it saw the Animagus. The bear growled like the Animagus could not. Harry felt quite panicky, shovelling Draco behind his back and holding up his wand. The two white bears looked at each other; one with instinctive rage and one with pure hatred. Slowly they began to circle. Draco pushed Harry in the back.

"Don't you dare let that poor defenceless creature get hurt by that man!"

"Draco…" Harry was backing up, holding his own body firmly between Draco and the wand that pointed to the bears. "That is an adult male polar bear, one of the most dangerous non-magical animals on Earth. I think he can take care of himself."

"Potter!" the voice was not to argue with, that was the voice that refused him sex.

"Fine!" huffed Harry.

He took a deep breath of cold air. Then he ran, towards the bears. In the middle of the stride he cast the strongest wandless and wordless stunner he knew at the bear. His wand and words were used to cast a Protego succeeded binding-curse at the Animagus. Like before the stag was thrown away. The bindings only caught on one front leg and were useless.

The Animagus roared and jumped towards Harry, who managed to throw himself on the ground at the last moment. Trying to get to his feet, but slipping in the snow, Harry pointed his wand again and called a stinging hex. That only made his opponent angrier.

Leaping again, the Animagus landed just centimetres from Harry. The sharp jaws snapped in front of his face and sharp claws dug painfully into his thigh. He could hear Draco scream. Harry grabbed hold of the bindings around the wizard bear's leg and pulled. The Animagus lost balance for a second, but that was just enough for Harry to stick his wand right in the beast's throat. There it caught on a metal chain, a protective charm. Harry did not think but cast the last spell any one would cast on a raging polar bear; a rust spell.

The metal chain crumbled to brown dust and Harry cast his strongest stunner again, this time with both wand and word.

The half a tone fury Animagus fell on top of him with a thud.

"Ouch."

"Harry? You okay?"

"Get this thing off me."

"Oh, sure…"

With the combination of a weight-reducing spell, a levitation charm and a good shove, Draco managed to free Harry. His leg hurt like hell.

"You are bleeding," observed Draco, helping Harry to sit up. "Let's go back to the house."

"Help me up."

Draco managed to get Harry up to one foot, supporting his weight. Harry looked around. The real polar bear was several hundred meters away, walking the opposite direction. It looked a little unsteady on its feet.

"I cast a Confundus on him," informed Draco. "It works with sharks, so I thought I'd give it a try."

Harry just nodded. He then transfigured the fake polar bear to a mouse.

"Let's go" he said, summoning his tiny unconscious prisoner. "Can you Apparate me?"

"I once Apparated with a beached whale," said Draco as-a-matter-of-factly "I don't think you are a problem."

They had not run far from the cottage and it was an easy Apparation. Draco landed gingerly on the doorstep and helped Harry inside. He laid the mouse on a nearby table. There was a big fire in the fire place that spread quite comfortable warmth. That was the only thing comfortable with the house.

It was obvious that the wizard living here was a dark wizard. This not only made apparent because of the raving bear-thing but also from the nasty odours about the place. Nothing good could come from odours like that thought Harry and undid his trousers. Draco helped him release the bloody leg from the icy fabric.

"It's only a flesh wound, but it is deep" said the blond. "I can do a blood stopper and a healing spell, then we better find a real healer."

"Mmm…" Harry was gazed around the room in search of something that could look like Horcroux. He pulled out the Turner from his jacket pocket, the arrow spun.

"You are not looking for Sev are you?" Draco's voice was sad.

"Sure I am!" Harry snapped to attention. "What makes you ask something like that?"

"You heard the woman in town. There has not been any Portkeys here for a long time. In a place like this even an illegal one would be noticed. And you are looking at the shelves and under the furniture… Uncle Sev has never been here and you are not surprised or angry over that the information was wrong."

"You are too clever for your own good, Draco," Harry tenderly stroked Draco's cheek. "You are right, I'm looking for something else now, but we are going to find Snape. I promise you!"

Draco nodded and concentrated on the wound on Harry's leg.

"What are you looking for?"

"I can't tell you," he winced from pain. "It is too evil."

"Too evil to tell me?" Draco winced as well, but for another reason, "Than it must really be evil…"

"Yeah…" sighed Harry. "Where is the prisoner? I need to interrogate him."

"Errr…"

"What?"

Draco bobbed his head and Harry followed his gaze. On the table sat large gray cat, licking its paws.

"Well," said Draco, conjuring a bandage around Harry's thigh. "At least there is one less Death Eater around…"

"He wouldn't have felt a thing," noted Harry as if this fact comforted him. "He was both stunned and out cold… Bad girl!"

The cat miaued, looked totally uninterested and left the room with a swagger to her tail. Draco snickered and ran his hand absentmindedly over the inside if Harry's uninjured thigh.

"You can't be serious," said Harry looking down at him. "You want to do it here?"

"You know a better place?" Draco's hand moved upwards.

"Well, I had been planning going to Niagara Falls…" he mused sliding down the chair to meet the friction.

"I think they'll still be falling if we fall a little behind…"


The search though the cottage, when they finally got to it, had not given any result. The Horcroux was not there. They had Apparated back to Longyeartown, now when they knew where they were going it was safe to do so. There Harry had his leg looked on by an Eskimo shaman, while Draco saw to the new Portkey. The small wizard community was very grateful for the banishing of the 'bad bjorn' and threw a small feast in their honour while they waited for the Portkey to get spelled. Harry had to politely turn down offers of raw seal-intestines four times before they could leave.

They arrived in Buffalo in about four in the afternoon; it had been about eight in the evening on Svalbard when they left. Feeling a little off from the time difference they were not happy to find out that they had to take a Wizard-driven Muggle bus to Niagara. A bus full of middle-aged American wizard charter-tourists dressed in colourful shirts and big cameras. Draco looked nauseous. Harry just smiled and wondered if he should get one of those shirts himself, they looked quite nifty. They had transfigured their bulky warm clothes to simple, quite ruffled, suits.

"The falls are a pure magical outlet," explained the wizard travel guide to her microphone with a smile and Canadian accent. "Don't be alarmed if your magic goes off, it is only the force of the Falls overriding it. Best is not to use magic at all. Just enjoy the ride and sights. Magical travelling within the Falls are very difficult. Please, please, do not try to Apparate. The outlet is very fickle," she then began to describe some of the magical history of the place.

"This is where they took Snape," whispered Harry, leaning to Draco.

"Why would they take him to a place like this?" Draco frowned. "A place were you can't do proper magic? That is a Death Eater nightmare."

"Maybe it was to put us off their scent," shrugged Harry. "We have to find out though…"

He was interrupted by the tour guide's happy voice.

"Are there any honeymooners onboard?"

"Here!" Harry raised his hand like lighting hit him. "We are on our honeymoon!"

"Congratulations!" smiled the woman, and got a hint of panic in her eyes when she saw that

Draco was not a blushing bride but an exceptionally irritated man. "The… the Falls are very

lucky for… hrm… lovers. Anyhow…" she went on talking on another subject.

"What are you doing?" hissed Draco.

"Creating a cover," mused Harry.

"Good cover," spat the blond. "The only decently clad, young, English, gay couple on their honeymoon – nobody would ever point us out."

"Sometimes the best hiding place is in the open."

He only got an eye roll for response. He would probably have gotten more but they were suddenly attacked by two elderly witches in pastel floral dresses wanting to wish them luck on their young love – and ask them intimate questions on the mechanics of male gay sex.

Tired, hungry and a little bit turned on, Harry stumbled of the bus an hour later. The sounds of the Falls were echoing but tolerable. Waiving good bye to the two giggling witches and a few others who had joined in the Q and A, he dragged Draco with him towards the hotels.

"Did you have to tell them our measurements?" he hissed.

"They asked," Draco smiled. "It's not like you have anything to be shamed over…"

"It's private!" Harry held the door open to let Draco pass.

"Oh come of it," the blonde huffed. "It's not like it's going to end up in the Prophet or something."

"O dear Lord," Harry winced and proceeded to the concierge desk.

They got a room on the third floor with a balcony view to the Falls. Draco went straight to the shower. Harry thought about joining him but was too hungry to concentrate on sex, and that was really hungry.

"I'll go and see if I can get us some food," he said to the bathroom. "Don't leave the room!"

"Had no intention to," answered Draco's voice and water was turned on.

Harry growled at the thought of the naked body on the other side of the door. Food first, he thought.

He walked back down to the foyer and the restaurant. He could have called room service but he needed an excuse to look around alone. He did not know witch hotel they had brought Snape to, if they even had brought him to a hotel. Harry placed an order at the restaurant and went for a walk outside. There was a clear disturbance in the magic. Most wizards would not have felt it but Harry did. It crept on his skin like drops of water. It was not an unpleasant feeling but a little unnerving.

He looked around, sending out his magical feelers. The Falls were disturbing. Harry fingered the Turner in his pocket, knowing it would be useless here.

"Sir?"

Harry turned around to the Muggle in white dinner jacket beside him.

"Yes?"

"Your order is finished."

"Thank you."

Harry followed the man back to the hotel; he needed help to find anything magical in this place. Draco would have to do.

Harry carried the tray between his left hip and hand, leaving his right hand free to eat with. He held a piece of bread in his mouth while he opened the door to his and Draco's room. The shower was still running in the bathroom. Harry rolled his eyes and put down the tray on the nightstand. Chewing the bread he walked over to the door.

"Draco! Are you finished? Save some hot water!" He smirked. "We're are going to work up a sweat you know – I don't mind you a little dirty!"

Knocking on the door, he heard nothing but the water. He slowly opened the door. The room was empty. Draco's wand lay abandoned in the sink.

"Draco?"

Something hard came crashing down on his back and everything when black.

As he woke up Harry could hear a heavy noise in his head. After a few seconds he realised that the sounds were not coming from inside his head but outside. He was on the shore above the Falls. Dizzily he got to his feet. Strangely enough, he still had his wand on him, but not his glasses. He pulled his wand but it only fizzed and sparkled.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," said a familiar voice. "You are awake."

"McNair," Harry focused on the man's blurry outline.

The hateful man was leaning against something, but Harry could not see what it was. He noticed, though, that McNair held a Muggle gun.

"Here," McNair tossed something at him, his glasses. "I want you to see this."

Harry put the glasses on and saw that it was a man-sized barrel. A cold feeling clutched his insides. McNair smiled his most evil smile and held up the gun even more.

"Draco!" called Harry.

"Harry?" came the muffled voice from the barrel. "Save yourself!"

Not listening Harry stepped forward.

"Don't try anything," McNair barked. "This is not magic and it will work."

"What do you want from me?" growled Harry holding his useless wand.

"I want you to die, Mr. Potter." He laughed. "But first…"

He kicked the barrel to the water.

"No!" Harry rushed ahead.

"Ah, ah, ah!" McNair held up the gun. "Me or him?"

Harry bit his lip, staring after the bobbing barrel caught in the torrent.

"Fuck!" he swore and ran downstream, leaving McNair behind. "Fuck, fuck!"

Think, Harry, think! Magic does not work. Apparation? The tour guide had said not to do it, she didn't say it would not work. Something about the magical streams…

Harry held up his hands, feeling the air around him. He could feel the pure magic in relation to his own. If he just could find a gap, a loop hole, a … there!

Without thinking he Apparated.

Next thing he knew he felt a horrible pain in his crouch. For a terrible second he thought he had splinched himself. The next second he heard Draco's voice.

"You stupid fucking asshole!"

Harry had landed in the barrel, whole and clean, but with Draco's bare knees directly to his privates. Not a comfortable position when he had no place to put his feet but for Draco's arms. The barrel was also moving to the water, thrusting, bobbing, dipping, rolling.

"Get out of here!" screamed Draco over the roar of the Falls.

"Can't move!" retorted Harry.

"Idiot! Now we'll both die in this cramped thing!"

'Cramped' thought Harry looking around. It was cramped in here.

"Kiss me!"

"What?"

"Kiss me now!" Harry leaned down. "Like you mean it!"

"You are insane!" bellowed Draco back. "But I guess it is a good way to die!"

Their lips met in a passionate and desperate kiss. Draco clung to him like he was the last thing on Earth. For a moment Harry lost his concentration, but as he suddenly felt the sudden weightlessness that comes as one goes over a cliff, he took control.

Drawing the magic out of his union with Draco Harry preformed a very simple wandless cushioning spell, bedding the walls of the barrel.

They fell, and fell, not letting go of each other's lips. Images flashed for Harry's eyes. The cupboard of his childhood. Ginny in the Chamber of Secrets obsessed by Tom Riddle. The Triwizard-tournament. The face of Voldemot. Dumbledore falling. Snape's book that he hid… in the Room of Hidden Things… next to a bust… with a diadem… Oh my god! It is at Hogwarts!

They crashed down. Again Harry got Draco's knees in the groin. He tasted blood in his mouth and hit his head hard. Draco screamed. Like a girl. But Harry did not mention it – he suspected that he had done just the same.

"Shit!" Draco breathed.

Harry looked down on him. Draco had a cut in his right eyebrow where Harry's glasses had hit him. There was probably going to be a hell of a bruise. Harry was not sure who's lips where bleeding, but his hurt. It was first now that Harry noticed that Draco only was wearing underpants and nothing else.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"No!" screamed Draco. "I'm fucking not okay! You almost got killed!"

"So did you!"

"You…!"

He was interrupted by a tapping on the barrel from the outside. Something seemed to hook on to them.

"They are towing us," noted Harry.

"You are in so much trouble," muttered Draco.

"Hey! You can't deny sex just because I saved your life!"

"I can do what the fuck I want!" yelled the blond. "I'm going back the St Martinique were it's safe!"

"You mean from where Snape was kidnapped?"

"I hate you."

The barrel hit land and was rolled a shore on its side. Harry and Draco were tumbled like in a washing machine. There were excited and angry voices outside.

"Let me do the talking," said Harry trying to regain some authority in his voice after being hit in the balls twice.

"Right."

The top of the barrel was opened and Harry pushed himself out. He was helped to his feet by a furious Park Ranger, who did not let go of him.

"You are in so much trouble," the Park Ranger said.

"Don't I know it," sighed Harry, looking at the flashes from about fifty cameras.

Draco was hauled out of the barrel by another Ranger. Even more cameras clicked at the sight of his bare chest and tattooed arm. A yellow raincoat was produced and put over his shoulders. They were then both dragged to waiting black Range Rover with an eagle on the side and blinking blue lights on the roof.

"Good thing you did the talking," said Draco.

"Shut up," scowled Harry and looked miserably on as he discovered that wizard-cameras worked just fine close to the Falls.

The two elderly witches from the bus waived at him.


At the Ranger station they were thrown in a holding cell. Harry's wand and wallet had been taken from him. The wand had been a mystery to the Rangers. They were even more confused when Harry's and Draco's room was searched and all they came back with was Draco's suit and wand.

"Explain this," said the sturdy Head Ranger (Thompson according to his nametag) and held up Harry's British identity card from Scotland Yard with the title 'chief inspector'.

"That is mine."

"You should know better."

"I should."

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm looking for a missing person."

"And your… hrm… husband?" Thompson looked a little unsure of himself for the first time.

"I'm not his husband!" Draco was currently dressing. "We only met three days ago."

"But we have known each other since we were eleven."

"You don't know me," Draco huffed pulling on his jacket.

"W!" Harry let out a thankful gasp as he saw Ron come in though the door.

"Double me what?" Draco snapped.

Ron rolled his eyes and held up an identity card to Thompson. The letters CIA flashed by.

"I'll take them from here," Ron had the strangest American accent coming out of his mouth.

"Good riddance," murmured Thompson and opened the cell door. "Just don't take any more joyrides down waterfalls."

"We won't, sir," smiled Harry.

He and Draco got a fine for three hundred dollars each and was let go in Ron's care. It took a little coercing to get their wands back. The Rangers had thrown them in the dustbin.

"Stupid Muggles," muttered Draco drying spilled coffee from his wand.

They were walking back to the hotel. Rom was dressed in simple jeans and a dark blue jacket over a white shirt.

"Where did you come from?" asked Harry.

"We got your report from Jamaica," said Ron, still in accent. "About the… you-know-what,

and G thought you needed help in destroying it."

"What's with the voice?"

"A vox-patch," Ron opened his collar and showed them something that looked like a white band-aid. "My own invention. It works here 'cause it puts the magic inside me."

"Was that why…?" Draco was cut of as a red pickup truck drove passed them.

McNair in the passenger seat and the feeling of evil lingering in its wake.

"Shit!" Harry looked around. "We need a car!"

"I got one," said Ron, oblivious to the urgency. "Had to rent one and all." He proudly held up the key. "It's parked over there."

Draco was already running over the parking lot and Harry grabbed hold of Ron pulling him with him. Finally realising something was afoot, Ron hurried with them.

The car was a small green Honda, Harry could see Draco wince.

"Give Draco the key!" called Harry and pushed Ron forward.

"I have you know I'm a bloody good driver!" said Ron, but still gave over the key.

"Yeah," huffed Harry as he pulled the door to the passenger seat. "I remember. Hit it Draco!"

The engine screeched and the car started with a jump. They were of the parking lot before

Ron closed the backseat door.

"There he is!" Harry pointed. "Fuck! I should have known he had a car. No way he could haul that barrel up by himself without magic. Did you see who was with him?"

"No," said Draco steering past a couple of slow drivers.

"They got a you-know-what with them," Harry called back to Ron. "I can feel it."

"Fuck!" Ron was holding on to the back of Harry's seat for life, his face clenched.

Harry cast a Lumos with his wand; it just crackled and popped – still too close to the falls.

"By the way," he winced as Draco drove quite close to the edge of the road to avoid a truck.

"Svalbard was a loss. That tip Ginny gave us was nothing but a crazy Animagus."

"You seen Ginny?" Ron totally forgot to be scared. "She's been missing for nearly two days."

"She was in Jamaica yesterday," Harry looked back at his friend. "What do you mean 'missing'?"

"Excuse me?" Draco hit him hard in the side. "Car chase going on here!"

"Oh right!" Harry turned back to look at the red pick-up. "Who is driving?"

"I did not see," Draco sped up even more. "Who ever it is, he's not good with shifting the gears. We are gaining."

Harry nodded and cast another Lumos; this time he got a kind of flickering fairy light. Still not enough. The pick-up suddenly sped up – they know they were followed.

"Petal to the medal," said Ron digging in his pockets.

"'Pedal to the metal'," corrected Draco and did just so.


"Magic still not working," muttered Harry staring at the flickering light of his wand.

"Here," Ron gave Harry something that looked like green marble. "If we get close enough, throw it on the boot. It'll slow them down."

Draco strained the Honda's engine to the limit and they gained a few more meters. They were now almost bumper to bumper with the Pickup. Harry rolled down his window and crawled though it so that he was sitting on the edge. He could feel Ron's hands on his legs holding on to him. The small marble was in his right hand, his low glowing wand in his left.

He could see McNair's face looking back at him, and a wand. The wand was not shining as brightly as his own, probably due to that he was the more powerful wizard. At the driver seat he could only see a black hood, but the hands on the wheel seemed to be feminine.

Harry took aim and threw the marble. It landed on the back of the other car. Laying there rolling with the movements. MacNair looked down at it and smiled a wicked smile, obviously figuring something when wrong.

"Get back in!" screamed Ron tugging Harry's legs.

No sooner than Harry had seated himself down beside Draco again, the car in front of them exploded. Draco swore and pulled on the wheel, pumping his feet on the pedals. There was a crashing noise as the Honda smashed into something hard and burning. The speed took them skiving over the road, missing and bumping into other Muggle vehicles.

"Whoa!" said Ron when they finally stopped. "Wait 'til I tell Fred about this!"

"You okay?" Harry asked Draco.

"Sure," Draco's fists were still clenched hard to the wheel, his eyes staring though the cracked windshield. "Go get them."

The door on his side was stuck so Harry crawled, feet first, out of the open window. He landed on the pavement flicking his wand. The light was steady. He looked over to the overturned pick-up; McNair was staggering away from it. There was no sign of the female driver. As Harry began to run he noticed that the Death Eater was carrying something.

"McNair!" he called, pointing his wand. "Stop!"

The man turned around, grinning. Harry was surprised to see him holding a gray cat at wand point.

"You stop!" McNair called. "Or she gets it!"

Harry halted about three meters away. Was the man really threatening him with a cat?

"Ginny!" came Ron's scream from behind him.

"Raow," said the cat.

Suddenly he recognised the animal. The cat from Svalbard! Before Harry could react, McNair grabbed hold of a collar around the cat's neck and disappeared. A Portkey!

"Portus Includo!" screamed Harry and Apparated.


"He's got Ginny!" Weasley's face was in a red flush.

"Are you sure?" Draco looked at the place were Harry had Disapparated. "It was the cat…"

"I know my sister, you wanker! That was her!"

Draco looked around. The pick-up's wheels were still slowly turning. Several Muggles were stopping and stepping out of their cars.

"Right…" Draco bit his lip, not wanting to be the one telling Weasley that his sister had eaten a wizard just yesterday, and was probably in deep trouble.

"He's got my sister!" Weasley exclaimed again, pulling up a mobile phone from his inner pocket. "Gotta call G about this!" He moved away, frantic look on his face.

Draco looked once more over the spot were Harry had stood. He winced and bent down and took up a piece of wood from the asphalt. A Phoenix feather and was sticking out of the hollow inside. Harry had spliched his wand. Draco felt sick, holding the destroyed item to his heart. He was not sure of what just had happened, but he knew Harry was in serious trouble.

He heard the sirens of emergency vehicles at a distance.


Harry landed on a concrete floor. He took a step to regain his balance and turned his wand on a very surprised McNair and cat. Harry cast a Immobilus spell. Red sparks fell like drops of blood out of the severed wand. McNair grinned. Before Harry could do anything he was hit with a spell and everything went dark.

He woke up naked, tied to a chair.

"Good morning."

The voice was familiar. Harry looked up. He did not have his glasses but he knew that red colour anywhere.

"Ginny!" he called. "Quick! Untie me before they come back!"

"I'm afraid…" she said, leaning close enough for him to see her, "…that they are already here."

Then she hexed his balls with a stinging-spell. Harry screamed in surprise and pain.

"What the fuck, Ginny? What are you doing?"

"Isn't that obvious, Potter?" drawled another familiar voice from behind him.

"Snape?" Harry tried to turn around but he was to tightly bound.

"Shut up you!" screamed Ginny pointing her wand over Harry's shoulder. "Get back to work!"

"Yes, Mistress," Snape's voice was mocking, but compiling.

Harry stared up at Ginny. He could not see her features clearly, but he could feel her magic

flaring though her anger like the light of day. There was something very wrong with her. She was now standing up right in front of him, obviously glaring at Snape. Their knees were touching and Harry was faced with the blurry sight of her hips. Something very wrong.

"Is this how you followed us?" she asked.

She was holding the Un-benevolent Turner under his nose. The arrow pointed straight to her. Slowly Harry nodded his head. Ginny was on Voldmort's side. 'How' and 'why' could wait 'til later. For the moment Harry took fact for fact and gathered his emotions. He watched Ginny destroy the Turner with a spell.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"None of your business," Ginny spat and hexed his balls once more.

This time Harry just bit his teeth. Sweat was beginning to fall down his brow. He could feel he genitals creeping as close to his body as possible.

"How many of the Dark Lord's Horcrouxes have you destroyed?"

"You told him about…?" Harry panicked, just a little. "How did you…?"

"I work in communications," she shrugged as it explained all. "How many?"

"Go to hell!"

The hex she threw on him this time included his whole package.

"What are you going to do with me?" Harry spoke though his teeth.

Ginny kneeled before him so he could see her face. She rested her elbows on his thighs and her fingers were close to his penis, but not touching. He shifted uncomfortably.

"We need a test-subject," she smiled the sweet smile that once had made the adolescent Harry fall in love with her – now it only scared the shit out of him.

"'Test-subject'?"

"Yes," she still smiled and shrugged. "Well, we already know that it works on Muggles. So I doubt that it will be different with you."

"What do you want?" Harry was stalling while he collected his magic inside him. "Do you expect me to talk?"

"No, sweetheart," she closed the space between them and kissed him lightly. "I expect you to die!"

She rose and walked out of his range of sight, probably to Snape. Harry concentrated on her magical signature and found her behind him. He shifted his focus to the binds and felt the ropes loosen a little. A strong fist hit him painfully across the face.

"No wandless tricks!" spat McNair's voice.

Harry blinked. He could feel blood trickling from his nose down to his chin and drip on his bare chest.

"It's time!" announced Ginny.

She and Snape came into sight. Harry could not see either of their faces but he noticed that Snape's black framed face bore nuances of blue and red. The man was wearing long khaki trousers and a green t-shirt. Probably the same clothes that he had been wearing on the day he was taken from St. Martinique.

"Do it!" ordered Ginny.

Snape stepped forward, leaning in to Harry. He was holding a beaker with a green potion in his hand.

"Draco?" he asked.

"Safe," Harry answered.

"Tell him to arm himself."

"Now!" Ginny pushed Snape in the back with her wand.

"I'm sorry, Potter," Snape leaned forward and kissed him.

Harry was so chocked to find the dry, warm and ginger-tasting lips on his that he took the kiss without struggle. The kiss was ended with a very painful hex from Ginny.

"No more! Give it to him!"

With a sigh, Snape pushed Harry's head back and poured the potion down. It tasted foul, of sulphur and salt. He choked and coughed. The room was suddenly more blurry than before.

"Are you coming?" asked Ginny through the daze.

"I'll wait 'til he's dead," said McNair's voice. "I want to see this."

"Whatever."

The shadows that were Ginny and Snape left the room. Harry gasped for air, his lungs burned. A shock of pain hit his bare thighs; McNair had hit him with a whipping spell.

"Didn't think you get an easy death, did you?" the man spat. "I'm going to make the last minutes last."

And the last minutes did last. They lasted too long, Harry realised though the pain of the torture. The potion must have failed; it did not work on wizards. With this thought Harry gasped and slumped. He relaxed every muscle in his body, holding his breath and gathering his magic. McNair roared with laughter and slapped his face. The ropes fell off Harry's hands.

"Not the Boy Who Lived now, are you?" The man leaned close and harry felt the heat of spit on his face. "Today is the day you die!"

"No," Harry opened his eyed and grabbed hold of McNair's neck. "I think I'll die another day, again."

With the combination of wandless magic and bodily strength Harry pushed McNair to the floor and wrung his neck. The cracking noise was both terrifying and satisfying.

"You on the other hand…" Harry got up on his feet "…lost your head today."

He looked down at the man by his feet. A broken neck was not as lethal for a wizard as it was for a Muggle, but the longer the treatment waited the more irreparable damage.

"Now…" Harry smiled. "You are going to answer some questions."


Harry returned to the hotel room at Niagara the next day.

He had found out from McNair that they were in Toronto, Canada. Sadly, his prisoner did not know where Ginny had gone with Snape. Apparently, McNair moved as he pleased and

Ginny was not forthcoming with information. The man did not even know what it was Snape had given Harry, just that it should had killed him. He did give Harry several addresses to different Death Eater-cells. There was one in Dublin that sounded promising.

Harry contacted the Canadian Aurors and gave them G's contact information in Britain. They were not happy to be dragged into a British war ('again', they muttered), but took care of McNair. After a short briefing at the Canadian Ministry and a night spent at a magical hospital called Queen Anne, Harry had been given a Portkey to Buffalo. From there he caught the first bus back to the Falls.

He had not been allowed to take McNair's wand. His own half a wand was placed in the breast pocket of his nifty multi-coloured shirt, looking like a pen.

Ron was sitting on their hotel bed, rocking in chock. Harry glanced over at Draco – the blond looked a bit green – was sitting next to him on the couch facing the window and the Falls outside. The noise of water falling was ever present in the background. He sighed.

Both had greeted him with a bone-crushing hugs, but Ron had pulled away when Draco had begun kissing him. Harry was too relived to feel embarrassed in front of his friend and kissed Draco back with glee. He only stopped at the sound of Ron's whining voice.

"Harry? Ginny?"

And Harry had told them.

"How…" Ron stammered. "How…."

"McNair said…" Harry took of his glasses, rubbing his tired eyes. "McNair said that she is sleeping with Voldemort…"

"Whaaah!" Ron's eyes looked like they were going to fall out of his head.

"Apparently…" he felt nauseous now "…she has been sleeping with him since the day Bill died."

"She was taken hostage, for Merlin's sake! He fucked with her mind somehow!"

"She was in love with Diary-Riddle," reminded Harry. "But, yeah…"

Ron stood and went to the bathroom. He closed the door but the noise of his vomiting was still heard thought the wood.

"Uncle Sev does not even like men," murmured Draco beside him.

"What?" Harry turned to him.

"Uncle Sev," said Draco. "He is straight. Why would he kiss you?"

Harry thought about it. At the time he had thought that Snape had some strange crush on him and was just taking the last chance to tell him about it. But if Draco, who was obviously gay, had lived with Snape for five years and…

"He tasted ginger," said Harry realising what must have happened. "He gave me the antidote with the kiss."

Draco nodded, and then winced at another sound from the bathroom.

Harry was holding the two pieces of his wand. It felt sad to see it destroyed. He remembered the day he got it, the first time he met Draco. He sighed. This meant that he no longer was protected by the twin-core-thing. He did not understand much of it and every time Hermione tried to explain, his eyes crossed. But he did understand that Voldemort's wand was now one of a kind and Harry had no wand at all.

"Where are we going now?" asked Draco, snuggling closer.

"Hogwarts," said Harry. "There is something there I need to find. I'll call G to meet us there with a spare wand."

"'G'?"

"Hermione."

"Who are you?" Draco smirked. "P?"

"I'm Harry," said Harry with a laugh, he was glad that the letter-thing had not stuck to him.

They both silenced as Ron emerged from the bathroom, hair in a mess and white as a sheet. His face was determined though.

"We are going to get those bastards," he declared.

"Yes we are," Harry nodded.


The next morning Draco drove the Honda to Buffalo were they returned it to the rental company. Ron had insisted on getting his own room, leaving Harry and Draco alone to 'do what ever it is you do'. He seemed to be in a better mood after his laps to the bathroom, but had apparently spent most of the evening at the hotel bar. They were now sitting in a private booth inside a diner, eating an early lunch and reconstructing a Portkey.

"It is set for London," Ron explained showing the red plastic cocktail stirrer. "It'll take a couple of minutes to set it for Hogsmeade.

Harry sipped his warm tea looking out the window to the street.

"Why are you not mad at me?" Draco's question was aimed at Ron.

"What?" asked the redhead leaning over the stirrer with his wand.

"You should be mad at me," Draco frowned poking his fries with his fork. "You should scream and threaten to kill me for being with Harry. You have not even insulted me once. You even let us…. last night."

Ron looked up from his work, not to Draco but to Harry.

"You want to take this one, mate?" he grinned.

"Ron… don't," warned Harry with a dark glance.

"What?" demanded Draco, looking between them.

"You see, Malfoy," Ron put the altered Portkey in his pocket. "Our Harry here…" he indicated with his hand "…is a bit of a slapper."

"Ron!"

"The reason I don't care about you, is that I know that you'll be out of the picture as soon as we find Snape. You'll go back to your island and collect fish eggs or whatnot, and Harry will be after the next piece of tail he comes across."

"Ron!"

"He asked!" Ron grinned. "Now excuse me, gentlemen. I'm off to the little wizard's room."

He left, leaving Harry under the gaze of hard gray eyes.

"Sooo…" Harry flushed. "Do you want to visit you mother…"

"How many?" Draco had stabbed the fries to pieces under Ron's speech.

"How many what?"

"How many have you had sex with?"

"I've stopped counting…" Harry looked at his empty teacup. "I…"

Draco sucked in breath.

"Excuse me," he rose from the booth. "I need some air."

Harry watched him leave though the front door.

"Fuck," he said to the teacup.

It was true. He enjoyed sex, and he took it were he could get it. But, and he was proud over this: he had never cheated on any of his lovers. Sure, there is not much cheating to be done on a one-night-stand, but still. The longest relationship he had had lasted for a mindboggling three months. Granted, he had spent most of that time under anaesthetics in a Muggle hospital and had to Obliviate the male nurse he had the relationship with – but still.

The strange thing was that he had not had a thought of leaving Draco, not even once. The few days they had spent together was enough. Harry had not even thought of wanting another lover. He enjoyed Draco, damn it! And not just for his body.

"Damn it!" Harry hit his fist to the table and ran after the blond

Outside he looked around. He could not see Draco anywhere. Chancing, he turned right. There was an alleyway not far of; it would be a good place to Apparate.

"Please don't Apparate…" Harry murmured.

He did not have a wand and a wandless Apparition was far too dangerous, even for him. Harry could hear raised voices coming from the alley and he hurried his steps. One of the voices was Draco's.

"Get of me!"

"We want the book, Malfoy!"

Harry turned the corner and saw Draco pushed up to the brick wall by two men in dark coats. He recognised them as Mr Gold's thugs from Jamaica. They spotted him immediately.

"Step back!" yelled the taller man, grabbing hold of Draco and pushing a wand to his neck. "Or he gets it!"

"Let him go!" Harry stopped and clenched his empty hands.

"We want the book!" called the other man.

"There is no book!" He spotted Draco's wand on the ground behind them. "It was just a rumour!"

"You have on the count of three!"

The wand dug deeper to Draco's neck.

"There is no book!" Harry moved slowly to the side so he could freely accio the wand.

"One!"

"There is a book!" Draco rasped.

Harry stopped. What?

"Where is it?" spat the thug with the wand.

"The book is yours," said Draco looking straight at Harry, ignoring the others. "If you want it, go get it."

"I don't…" Harry started to move again; the other thug had begun to fiddle with an old tin can. They were going to be gone within seconds.

"Enough!" the taller man called. "You want him? Give us the book! The casino tomorrow at noon! Or he is dead!"

Three things then happened at the same time. The thugs activated their Portkey and disappeared with their hostage, Ron came running round the corner with his wand held high and Harry summoned Draco's disgarded wand.

"Portus Includo!" shouted Harry.

Nothing happened. He stared at the spot, then at the wand and then at Ron.

"What's wrong?" he asked, feeling a little panicky.

"That's not your wand," Ron came up to him. "The spell is too complex to work with an unfamiliar magical tool. Be glad it did not work, you could have lost a leg or something."

"They got Draco," Harry sighed and looked at the wand. "And they want the book."

"Draco said there was no book," Ron wrinkled his brow. "Hermione was very upset."

"He said the book was mine…"

He and Ron left the ally, walking down the street.

"There is a book?"

"He said I should go get it…"

Harry was thinking. There is no book. Sev's is not dumb enough to put important things like that on paper were anyone can find it. The book is yours. What was the meaning of all this? Tell him to arm himself, Snape had said. Arm. Draco's arm with the patterns, flowers, symbols and…

"Fuck!" Harry stood still as it dawned on him. "Draco is the book!"


After making Harry a Portkey to Kingston Town Ron is, under great protests, sent back to Britain. Harry has to put a sticking spell on the cocktail stirrer and attach it to Ron's shirt for him to get the message. Draco's wand can give Harry sticking spells; they are – thankfully – not complex.

"You need to destroy the diadem at Hogwarts!" argues Harry as he steps away from his friend and the Portkey. "It is the last one!"

"But…!" protests the redhead.

"Voldemort knows that we destroyed his Horcrouxes, Ron! It's now or never!" He takes a calming breath. "He'll make new ones, and hide them even better."

"You don't even know where he is…" grumbles Ron, picking sourly at the stirrer on his chest.

"Gold knows," Harry is almost certain of this, almost.

He watches Ron disappear.

Harry arrives in Jamaica the next day at eleven a.m. He concluded that he needed sleep before his meeting and spent the night in Buffalo at a cheap motel. Still wearing his nifty coloured shirt and trousers transfigured to shorts he heads for the casino. There are not many gamblers arriving at this hour; frankly there are more red-eyed, tuxedo-clad, hung-over people leaving the building than entering.

A strange feeling engulfs him as he approaches the entrance. The feeling of something that is wrong. He can feel the force of the Avada Kadavra cast before he sees the green light flash under the casino doors. Two disturbingly quiet seconds later someone screams and the doors are opened to let out a small hoard of frightened wizards and Muggles. Harry knows better than to stand in their way, even if… Even if… Draco is in there. He hurries inside at the first chance he gets, Draco's wand held up before him.

And what he sees takes the air from his lungs.

Ginny Weasley is standing in the lush hallway. She is holding her wand in front of her, pointing to a very dead Mr Gold on the floor. Her hand trembles, but the look in her eyes says it all. She has killed for the first time and is not afraid to do it again.

"Ginny!" he calls. "What have you done!"

She looks up at him, her smile is hesitant.

"I did it!" she says proudly. "I did it!" she laughs.

"You're mad, Ginny!" Harry can feel his eyes filling with tears for the girl. "Can't you see…?"

"No!" she shouts and points her wand at him. "That shit wanted the book for himself! It belongs to the Dark Lord!"

Harry scans the lobby, seeing Draco and his two guards sitting on the floor next to the entry to the main gamble floor. Meeting gray questioning eyes, Harry nods to show that he knows about the book. The fact that Draco's long-sleeved shirt seems undisturbed point to that no one else knows but him. He turns back to Ginny, who is poking Gold with her foot.

"Ginny please," he pleads, loosing the fight with his tears. "Let me help you."

"Fuck off," she says. "Just give me the book."

Harry bit his lip. He had to remember that this was not Ginny before him. At least the Ginny that he thought he knew. This was a seduced girl, driven to madness by a… well, a madman. If worst came to worst, he could not let her stand in his way to destroy Voldemort, and save Draco.

"The book!" Ginny closed in on him, pointing her wand to his chest.

"He doesn't have the book!" Draco's voice echoed though the room. "I have it!"

Harry looked over to the blond now defiantly standing up. What the fuck was he doing? As Ginny turned to face Draco, Harry jumped her. They fell to the floor with a painful thud.

She screamed and turned around under him. Trying to regain his balance he straddled her, taking her wrists in his hands and forcing her to drop the wand. Draco ran forwards, picking up the disarmed wand and pointing it to Ginny. She was still struggling, pushing her hips to wriggle out of Harry's grip.

In the next moment several pops of Apparaition was heard outside the entrance doors. The Jamaican Aurors. Here come the cavalierly, thought Harry, just before realising how this looked: he was straddling a small woman, Draco was aiming a wand at them and there was a dead man beside him. Taking it all in, he looked up at Draco. It was clear that he had the same thought as Harry. Slowly he lowered the wand.

"Harry?"

Harry looked down at Ginny noticing the collar around her neck. Without thinking he reached out for Draco.

"Take my hand," he said

Without hesitation Draco complied.

Ginny screamed again, in frustration, but sounding like a girl in obvious distress. The doors was spelled away and Harry placed his and Draco's joined hands on Ginny's neck. The last thing he saw before being pulled away was the face of someone that looked very much like Kingsley Shacklebolt but with long rasta-braids.


Halfway though the travel though the ether, Harry understood that they were crossing the Atlantic Ocean. The magic of the great water was pressing on his temples.

It was nothing to the pain that seared in his head, and scar, as they arrived at their destination. All three of them fell in a pile on the hard floor. Harry accidently got Draco's elbow in his ribs and Ginny's knee, not accidently, between his legs.

"Potter," a voice drawled from the vicinity of his pain. "You stupid and utter fool."

"Uncle Sev!" cried Draco happily, scrambling to his feet.

"Stupid child," muttered the dark man.

Draco helped Harry to stand. He noticed Snape sitting at a desk with stacks of parchments and books piled around him. He then also noticed Voldemort standing next to Snape with a leering evil smiling in his red eyes and Ginny firmly at his side. She looked very pleased with herself. She was also holding her wand again.

"It seems, Severus," hissed the Dark Lord, "…that your request for assistance have been answered."

"He has the book, my Lord!" Ginny pointed to Draco, her face accusing.

"Has he now, my sweet?"

Harry shivered as Voldemort used the same name to Ginny as he had used on Nagini. He remembered the snake and the spelled knife he had used to cut her head of. The beast had continued to spit blood and poison for several minutes after the decapitation. The image of Ginny doing the same was quite disturbing. He pulled his wand, or Draco's wand as it was.

"Don't you dare touch him!"

"How charming," drawled Voldemort, pulling his own wand,

This was it, Harry shivered. This was the moment he had been waiting for. It seems that he always known, even before he found out about the prophecy, he'd had known that this moment was going to come. But then… then he had not counted on needing to defend Draco. He closed his eyes, hoping against hope that Ron and Hermione had found and destroyed the diadem; that he really had found all the Horcrouxes; that Draco was going to be fine; and that it was going to hurt to die.

"Avada Kadavra!" rasped Voldemort's horrible voice.

Draco saw Harry fall to the floor before him. One second he was safe, protected, the next moment he was not. He screams and catches the limp body before it hits the floor. Nonononononononono, goes from his mind as his legs give out and, he too, falls to the floor.

A shout of triumph sears from the Dark Lord. Ginny and Sev just stares.

"He is just resting," murmurs Draco, stroking fingers though black locks "Just resting, we're fine…"

"Now, Malfoy," Voldemort steps up. "Give me the book!"

"Never," Draco tries not to meet the red-eyed glare, but can not tare himself away.

"Do you need some insentience?"

Before Draco knows had have happened, his shirt has been spelled of him wit a ripping noise. Felling cold hands closing around his wrist and a wand point to his Dark Mark, he braces himself for the pain. A pain that somehow never comes. Instead there is another cold hand trailing his arm and tattoo.

"Oh my clever Severus," hisses Voldemort, licking his lips.

Harry knows that it is done. He can feel himself dying and being alive at the same time. The curse aimed at him has killed the last piece of Horcroux in existence. He feels everything go dark around him, the only light coming from a halo of blond hair. Just resting, we're fine… Harry lies still, not able to move if he wanted to, as Draco is pulled away from him. He can suddenly feel fingers touching him. Ginny pokes his cheek with a sharp nail.

"Well?" Voldemort asks.

"He is dead" she announces coldly, not even bothering to feel his pulse.

The silent wail, that seems to come from Draco, cuts Harry's heart.

"How interesting…" Voldemort's voice is low. "Severus, I think I have underestimated you."

"Yet again…" murmurs Snape, but is cut of by a Crucio.

There is a rip of fabric and another sound of distress from Draco. Harry desperately tries to move his limbs, fighting hard with his magic to stay alive in his body. He manages to glance to the scene though half closed eyelids. What he sees makes him fight harder.

Draco is standing, barely, slumped and crying. The only thing holding him up is probably Voldemort's greedy grasp around his painted arm. He has not shirt on; it's in a ripped pile on the floor, next to Snape's twitching body. Ginny seems to be the only Death Eater in the room, but the others are probably not far off. He is also noticing now that they are in some kind of dungeon.

"You may still have your uses, young Malfoy."

Harry fights harder as the snakeman's hands travels to the other, non-tattooed, skin on Draco's torso. Ginny crackles a mad giggle and boldly strokes the blonde's firm abs.

"That's right my sweet," hisses Voldemort. "Maybe I will make you put on a show for me."

"Yes, my Lord," Ginny's hand travels further down Draco's body, he sobs.

"Get of him!" rasps Harry and pushes himself up to his knees.

"Wench! You said he was dead!" roars the Dark Lord.

"He was!" Ginny has stepped back from Draco.

She is hit with a Crucio and falls to the floor next to Snape. Harry gets up to his feet, swaying, but with a firm grip around Draco's wand. They had not even bothered to take it away from him. Simple spells only, Harry reminds himself.

He casts a stinging hex.

"What?"

Harry casts the hex again, and more five times in succession.

"What are these games?" screams Voldemort finally out of his surprised stupor.

Voldemort's confusion shows when he violently pushes Draco away instead of holding him as a hostage. Harry sees his opportunity and casts a more powerful burning hex. Draco's wand is warming up to him; the hex makes Voldemort stagger just a little.

"Enough!" the Dark Lord screams and casts a Sectumsempra.

Harry ducks out of the way but feels a burning pain as the spell cuts though the flesh on his left shoulder. He rolls on the floor landing on one bended knee. He casts the Exspelliamus the same time as Voldemort casts the Avada Kadavra.

The spells meet, Voldemort's wand twitches and turns on him. There is a great flash of green light and a horrible scream. The scream continues even after the Dark Lord is nothing more than a pile of ashes. Ginny runs forward, sticking her hands in the ashes and screams again as her hands are covered with the stuff. Harry feels nauseous.

Then warm hand grips him and engulfs him in a tight hug. He can't do anything else than to respond and fold his arms about the pail bare flesh before him. Draco's tears wet his shoulder and Harry hardens the embrace.

It is only in the corner of his eye that Harry sees Ginny, covered in ash, rushing towards them. Without thinking he yanks Draco out of the way and throws a binding spell on her. Before the ropes hit her, she manages to cast of a powerful Crucio that hits him in the chest.

Harry takes the pain and wriggle in Draco's arms. He bares it because he knows that he is safe, that Voldemort is finally dead and because it is Draco's arms.


The Minister of Magic, Arthur Weasley, shakes the hand of Severus Snape with flurry.

"Good work, old boy. Good work! Smashing!"

The dark man looks like he is about to panic. He seems very relieved when the minister finally lets go of him. Hermione Granger smirks and offers the minister some tea.

"Please," he says and accepts the cup.

"How's Ginny?" Granger asks, though she already knows.

"She's in the Janus ward at St. Mungo's," the Minister sighs. "We won't give up on her though. And Harry?" he asks, shaking of the sudden sadness. "Where is out hero of the hour?"

"We have him here now," Granger signs to Lovegood who just have entered the room with a small crystal ball, not bigger than a marble, in her hand.

"The latest thing in two-way-communication, father," informs Ron Weasley taking the crystal from Lovegood and enlarges it with a spell. "Harry has just one like it with him."

"Fascinating!" exclaims the Minister and stares closer into the now Quaffle-sized crystal.

"Harry?" Granger asks and taps the shiny surface with her wand.

The inside of the crystal mists up, and then it shows the inside of a bedroom. The receiver is laying on the floor next to a bed. Granger and the younger Weasley exchange worried looks. Than there is a loud moan ripping though the silence. Both the Weasleys' faces turn red.

An arm, covered in tattoos is reviled at the top of the bed. Then a blond head is hanging over the edge. They all stare in shock for two seconds before a mop of black hair is reviled next to the blond. Green piercing eyes are squinting at them. Then a laugh sounds and the receiver is covered in something that looks like a multi coloured shirt.

"Harry." Granger shakes her head with a sigh, turning the crystal off as the moaning starts again.


The End.