Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns everything.
Thanks to Maria for reviewing (again!) and to Munku-JGSPTV as well (all I have to say is he must have been hiding somebody Voldemort really didn't like...), this chapter is for you two!
Harry Potter and the Unholy Grails
Building an Army
Harry lay awake all night, wondering what had happened in the Hospital Wing. He tossed and turned, unsure how he was going to face Draco tomorrow. What if the other boy wanted to kiss Harry again? Did Harry want him to?
The debate that had been silently going in the depths of Harry's mind for over a month, renewed at Draco's every sidelong glance and the outbreak of goosebumps that followed, was raging full blown now. Was he gay? Seamus had once told him that people sometimes felt attracted to one other person of the same sex, even if they weren't gay. He said it was just hormones. Harry wasn't sure it was. He couldn't deny how much he liked the idea of kissing Draco again, but at the same time the thought scared him witless.
All thought of kissing was driven from Harry's head the next day, however. It seemed that Professor Slughorn had finally caught wind that Harry was in the school, and he was standing out front of the Great Hall the next morning waiting for him.
"Harry, m'boy!" He boomed as soon and he laid eyes on Harry. "Splendid to see you, splendid indeed! When the Headmistress informed us you were not to return this year, you cannot imagine my disappointment. Losing my best student and greatest party guest all in one, what a blow!"
Slughorn slung his arm over Harry's shoulders and began steer him from the Entrance Hall and down the stairs to the dungeon. "When I heard that you were here, well I summoned up all the members of my club to welcome you! Professor McGonagall has given us special permission to have a little breakfast party in the dungeons. It's just the old crowd, you know. You charming friend Hermione will be there, not to mention the ever-lovely Ms. Weasley….?"
Harry tried to imagine Ron's face as he sat up in the Great Hall alone, picking at his eggs and sausage. He had no choice but to nod and allowed himself to be steered into his old potion's classroom. The desks had been pushed together into make-shift tables and the whole dungeon had been gaily decorated. Amid the bright tablecloths and cheerful-looking centerpieces were the twelve-or so members of the Slug Club, al looking thoroughly unhappy about being there so early. Hermione waved Harry over.
"Hello Harry!" She said brightly, earning her a withering look from Neville, who appeared to have finally made the cut for the Slug Club this year after his participation in the fight at Hogwarts last year. However, Ron and Luna, who were also in the fight, were notably absent.
Hermione had a particular gleam in her eye that told Harry she had something to talk to him about, but could not at the moment. Instead he was forced to endure three quarters of an hour of mindless chatter at the hands of Melinda Bobbin and another new addition who, to Harry's great shock, turned out to be a cousin of the Weasley's.
"Her father is a squib, an accountant in Hertfordshire. Mum's told us we have to look after her, even if she is in Sytherin." Ginny mimed gagging over her potatos and shot the strawberry-blond haired girl a look of dislike.
It took a very long time for everyone to finish their breakfasts, and for Slughorn to finish his final impressive speech about how they were all rising stars destined for greatness. By the time that Slughorn let them all go, Harry was beginning to think that this was really a punishment that McGonagall had constructed for him because of the Thomas incident.
As soon as they managed to duck out into the hall, Hermione grabbed Harry's hand and tugged him into an abandoned room. It took Harry only a moment to recognize where they were and a wave of anger went over him. It was Snape's office, exactly the same as it had been when the man had fled it last spring. Hermione shut the door, and they were left in a near darkness. She seemed register their location a few moments after Harry and she quickly sent him an apologetic look. Whatever it was she had to talk about, it had nothing to do with Snape.
"Harry, I just wanted you to know," she began hurriedly, as the bell for class rung in the corridor. "Ron and I have reformed the DA. There are a few new members, especially in the lower years. Dean Thomas has been particularly vehement in recruiting members in the last few days, for some reason. We don't know yet who's going to teach…"
"You are." Harry interrupted her, "and Ginny and Ron. Together you guys have more than the required amount of skill, knowledge and instinct."
Hermione looked apprehensive, but they could hear students queuing at the potion's classroom doors and the need to get to class was obviously pressing on her. "Ok Harry, we'll teach. I just thought you'd like to know we'd re-formed. Got to go!"
She turned and left quickly. As the door slid closed again behind her, Harry was left in darkness to think. It was several moments before he realized that the light from the dirty window in the door was not the only thing lighting the room. A faint green glow was hitting the wall opposite him and casting his shadow faintly up the door. He turned to find he source of the light. It was coming from a stained glass cabinet behind Snape's old desk, and with a flash of recognition Harry realized what it was, even before he threw open the cabinet doors. It was a small pensieve, glitering and sinister, lying on the middle shelf. It's contents swirled without any real substance, somewhere between gas and liquid but clearly neither.
'It must be Snape's' he thought, 'Why else would it be in his office?' He knew Snape had borrowed Dumbledore's pensieve in his fifth year, so perhaps he had gotten one since then? It would certainly help him keep his incriminating thoughts safe from Voldemort…or Dumbledore. Now that Harry though of it, why had Snape, the accomplished Occlumens, needed to take memories out to prevent Harry from seeing them in his lessons, when he could keep both Dumbledore and Voldemort out of his mind without issue?
Excitement flared through Harry as he looked at it. Snape's memories, his most private experiences, lay before him. Remembering how important a Death Eater Snape was, how the other Death Eaters had obeyed him on the tower, Harry was struck with a wonderful sense of hope. Could Snape's memories tell him anything that might help with his search for the Horcruxes?
Harry picked the tiny pensieve from its shelf and settled it on the desk. Taking the chair behind the desk, Harry flicked his wand at the torches on the wall and murmured "Lumos!" Light burst through the office, making Harry squint a bit as he stared down at the pensieve. He had no idea how to start. He had never actually looked though a pensieve for a thought. Either he had been guided or he had fallen into a memory at random.
Vaguely remembering Dumbledore shaking his pensieve to bring forth the memory of Caractacus Burke, Harry seized either side of the pensieve and jiggled it nervously. Nothing happened.
'Perhaps,' Harry thought, 'it only works when you know what memory you are looking for?' Giving the little bowl another shake, Harry focused his mind completely and singly on one idea: Horcrux. He willed the pensieve to show him a memory of Snape's about Horcruxes.
Nothing happened for several long moments, and Harry was beginning to gloomily conclude that Snape must simply never have heard tell of Horcruxes. Disappionted, Harry leant back against the chair. Even as he did, however, a scene swam into view in the pensieve. It was a bit unclear, almost as if it was, and Harry felt foolish to think it, a little dusty. Looking down god-like on the little scene, Harry could see the billowing-robed Snape stalking a dungeon hall with another little person beside him, but he could hear nothing.
There was nothing else he could do. Taking a deep breath as if her were about to dive into the lake, Harry stuck his face in the pensieve scene. Immediately he felt weightlessness sweep over him, and he was pulled into the memory.
Harry's feet hit the floor again hard, making his ankles sting. Looking around, he found himself in a stone corridor, definitely a dungeon of sorts, with torch brackets on the walls. Snape was striding down the hall towards Harry, and with him was Lucius Malfoy. Both looked much younger than Harry remembered, and he realized that this must be a fairly old memory. Malfoy halted outside a dark wooden door to Harry's left, pushing Snape roughly into the wall.
"Listen Snivellus, you had better be right about this. The Dark Lord has been looking for Black for days; he won't take kindly to being led in the wrong direction. My feet are already in the fire and you know that he doesn't trust you."
Snape rasped, Malfoy's arm against his neck, "I'm sure."
"Good," said Malfoy, dropping his arm. "If you are right, it could mean great things for both of us."
Snape merely nodded, and in the dim torchlight Harry thought the young Professor looked, possibly, a bit scared. Lucius knocked on the door, and the murmured voice inside ceased. Several long minutes of silence followed this, during which the men stared tensely at each other. Then, still glaring at Snape, Malfoy knocked on the door. The cold voice of Lord Voldemort hissed, "Enter."
Harry stepped forward eagerly after Snape and Malfoy, excited to hear what they had to say, but suddenly a mist was filling the corridor, he was falling upwards. With another jolt, his bottom hit the chair in the darkened office. He stared down at the pensieve.
'What,' Harry thought, 'was that about?' What had he learned? Just that Snape and Malfoy didn't seem to get along very well in the past. Lucius had even used Harry's father's pet name for Snape. Still, it seemed as if this memory had been discarded not because it was dangerous, but because it was useless.
Disappointed, but feeling a nagging suspicion that he had missed out on something, Harry stood. He picked the pensieve from the desk, deciding that he would have another try at it later. First he would ask Hermione more about how pensieves worked.
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Late September faded quickly into October, and the sky became grey and overcast more often than not. Draco was discharged from the hospital several days after Dean's family visit, and he and Harry came home, awkwardly, together. The boys avoided each other as much as possible, both so afraid of messing up their friendship that they forgot to have one. Despite Draco's parting words that day, they never talked about what had happened.
Life back at Grimmauld Place was getting busier again. Remus and Tonks were living there full time and, at Harry's suggestion, the place was being returned to Order headquarters. Most of the Order passed through daily, except McGonagall, who was reluctant to leave Hogwarts. Harry emjoyed seeing Mrs. Weasley, Kingsley and the rest of the Order more often, as it made him feel less isolated from the world, especially since they had finally decided that Harry was old enough and mature enough to be a full-fledged member of the Order. Mrs. Weasley had rallied against this, but to no avail. Even Remus and Mr. Weasley had conceded that Harry could now only benefit from being kept informed. He in turn kept Ron and Hermione in the know using their new parchment messengers.
Draco was less enthusiastic about the mass arrival of a band of Death-Eater-hating teachers and Aurors. There was a memorable moment when Moody first arrived back at headquarters that Draco would not let Harry forget. Moody, upon seeing Draco, had roared that they were under attack and had attempted to hex him. Only Draco's quick reflexes and skill with shielding charms had saved him. Harry had had to step in and jinx Moody, Full-Body Binding him so that he could explain the situation.
The rest of the Order was only slightly more accepting of Draco, though Remus and Tonks were most kindly. Draco demonstrated one day just how much he had changed by offering to brew Wolfsbane for Remus, who had had to endure full-blown transformations since Snape had fled. It would be time consuming and difficult to get right, and Draco willingly put himself under great pressure by offering. Remus accepted on night at dinner, pointedly demonstrating to the several Order members present how much he trusted Draco.
Meanwhile, Number Twelve was beginning to regain some of its lived-in look. Remus and Draco had set to work making the place look as nice as possible. Draco had magically cleaned all the paintings in the front hall, while Remus had spruced up the living room. Harry came in one day to see newly transfigured couches that were far nicer than the previous high-back black ones, as well as a fresh coat of paint on the walls. Remus had even pulled a big cabinet in from of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black tapestry so that they didn't have to look at it.
Aside from Remus and Draco, Tonks and Harry often helped out fixing the house when they were not working. Mrs. Weasley cooked them dinner everyday, and several Order members, usually including the newlyweds Fleur and Bill, attended each night. In fact, it had become so crowded that Harry had gone to McGonagall and requested that he have Kreacher return to Grimmauld Place. When she had agreed, Harry had gone to the kitchens and there he had found Kreacher. When he had informed him that he would be taking him home, Kreacher had actually smiled at Harry. Just then, Dobby the house elf had come up to Harry and nearly begged him to take Winky and himself with him. He seemed to think that being in the service of a house would do Winky some good.
So, just like that, Grimmauld Place had gained three house elves and become a proper home for the first time in a long time. The days flew by for Harry, as he spent every waking moment entertaining, cleaning the house, researching R.A.B., and defending his friend from Moody and the other Order members. In the free few moments he seemed to have he had taken to sitting in the library and staring at Snape's pensieve. He had had no more success in finding a memory, though Hermione said he was going about it the right way. The pensieve kept producing the same memory over and over.
It was here that Draco found him, very early one morning a week after they had returned, sitting in a huge armchair in front of the fire. The house was unusually empty, with just the house elves scampering silently around. Remus had gone on patrol for the Order, protecting Hogwarts from the rising goblin unrest up in the North Country. Tonks had gone to work before dawn to work overtime. Draco came into the library so silently that Harry did not notice his presence until the blonde had laid his hands on Harry's shoulders.
Harry started, and turned. Draco smiled. "Jumpy, Potter?" he teased.
Harry rolled his eyes and turned back to the book on pensieves he was scanning. Draco's hands resettled on his shoulders, and the words on the page slid out of focus, all of his mind suddenly focused on that enticing gentle pressure. Gingerly Draco dug his thumbs into Harry's shoulders, and Harry could not hold in a gasp. Involuntarily his eyes fell closed, and shivers broke out all down his body.
Above him, Draco smirked, but without malice. "Like that, do you?"
Harry turned to the blonde, and he could feel his face burning as he blushed. He could think of nothing to say, but apparently his red face said enough for the Slytherin. Draco pushed the chair Harry sat in gently far enough away from the desk that he could stand in front of the Gryffindor. His face had lost trace of a smirk now. Instead he looked seriously at Harry as he slowly and deliberately leaned down and pressed his lips to Harry's. They both stayed that way for a moment, uncertain, then Harry brought a hand up to rest on Draco's chest, and the blonde pulled away.
"Are we really going to do this, Harry?" Draco asked in a voice Harry had never heard him use before. He realized with a bit of shock that Draco was scared. Scared of them, perhaps, or scared of rejection. Harry had never seen the blonde look so vulnerable. Draco was looking at him nakedly, with none of the usual mask, and Harry felt a swell of affection for him and the insane desire to ravage him senseless.
Reaching up, he curled his fingers into Draco's soft hair, and pulled the other boy's face closer. The creature in his chest roared its approval. Deepening the kiss, Harry ran his tongue over Draco's, making the other boy sigh. Seized by a sudden mad need to be closer to the blonde, Harry slide as far back as the armchair would allow and then pulled Draco into the chair with him so that the blonde was straddling Harry's hips. Draco grinned against Harry's mouth, and he pulled away.
"I knew you couldn't resist me, Potter," he said, a cocky grin on his face. His hair was tousled at the back where Harry had been messing with it, and his lips were deep pink. Harry grinned back.
"Really, Malfoy? Because you looked pretty nervous to me…"
Draco leaned very close to Harry. "You won't tell anyone, will you?" he whispered, his mouth so close to Harry's ear that his lips brushed Harry's earlobes as he said it. Draco began to kiss down Harry's neck, each brief contact sending jolts of pleasure through Harry. Moaning as Draco reached his collarbone, Harry brought his hands to rest on the other boy's thighs and realized that he was wearing his tight motorcycle pants. Harry laughed, and Draco looked up.
"Something funny?"
"You're wearing the tight pants!"
Draco smirked again and repeated, "Like that, do you?"
Harry smiled back, "Maybe…"
"Admit it, Potter, you do," Draco said, just a bit huskily.
By way of an answer to that Harry did the first thing that came to mind, and leaned toward Draco again. "Just be sure to wear them more often," he said, and pulled the blonde into a searing kiss. Draco's hands ran up his chest and tangled in his hair absentmindedly, and Harry slipped his own hands under the hem of Draco's shirt. The other boy maoned and, feeling emboldened by the noise, Harry tugged the shirt up Draco's torso.
They broke contact briefly as Harry brought Draco's shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor beside the chair. The firelight mingled with the red dawn creeping through the shutters and together they danced across Draco's chest enticingly. The Sectumsepra scars were only pale white lines in this light. Just as he had when they had first kissed, Harry traced his way down one of the scars, only this time he followed his fingers with his mouth. Draco moaned and twisted at Harry's touches, making Harry feel lightheaded. Could really be doing this, and to Draco of all people?
Draco's hand, still fisted in Harry's hair, pulled him into another kiss, snapping Harry back to reality. Suddenly Harry felt another hand, a cold, little hand, on the elbow of the hand that still rested on Draco's leg. He jumped and twisted to see who else was touching him, throwing Draco off his lap in the process.
Winky stood there, wide-eyed and staring at Harry in terror. "Winky is sorry, sir! Winky is very, very sorry to interrupt, sir!" Her round little face was as flushed as Harry's felt. "Winky would not have interrupted, but Master Remus said…"
"Remus?" Harry asked, confused. "Is he home?"
"No, Mr. Potter, sir," Winky said, her eyes still very wide. "He is at Hogsmeade, and he is calling us in the fire downstairs. He is saying that you must come to Hogsmeade, now. He is saying it is very, very urgent, sir. Winky and Dobby was most alarmed sir, and that is why Winky interrupted, but she is very, very"
"Sorry, yes. There's no need to be sorry Winky. Just tell me what Remus said exactly."
"He is only saying that Harry Potter must come to Hogsmeade as soon as he can, sir. He says there is fighting up at the castle," Winky looked positively beside herself.
Harry swore. "The goblins! They must have attacked the Hogwarts!" Getting up, Harry snatched up his invisibility cloak, which was lying on the desk, and stuffed it in his pocket. He dismissed the elf, saying, "Tell him I'll be leaving in a second, Winky."
Draco was getting slowly to his feet, pulling his shirt back over his head and looking disgruntled. "Goblins, Harry? Why would goblins be attacking Hogwarts?"
"They must have joined Voldemort," Harry said, and Draco flinched. "Dumbledore worried that they would, and we've been trying, unsuccessfully, for months to convince them that we have more to offer than him."
It was Draco's turn to swear, "We have to get over there."
Harry stopped in the motion of throwing Floo powder into the glowing embers. "We?"
Draco straightened his shirt and looked decidedly at Harry. "I've chosen a side and I'm going to fight for it."
Harry thought for a moment of arguing, but knew that the only reason he wanted to keep Draco back was to keep him safe, and he remembered all too well how awful it was to be constantly mollycoddled. He nodded and, not wanting to waste any more time, threw the powder into the dying flames.
