A/N I just want to say a massive thank you to 'captain kinna' for reviewing! I love getting reviews probably as much as I love writing the story! It makes me want to continue, so here is another chapter...

Something More

Harry's back arched and he let out a loud groan as he came in Draco's fast-moving hand, and shortly afterwards he shivered violently as he felt Draco release into him. It was strange, then, when Draco kissed him gently as he withdrew himself from Harry's body - he never usually did that. And then there was the holding of the hands, that was becoming a regular occurrence as well. Harry didn't know what to make of these things. When it first started happening, about three weeks ago, he assumed it was to comfort him, because that night Harry had started to cry for fear of failing Draco in the escape plan. And then the second time Draco did these things, Harry had assumed it was because he had earlier successfully made water appear in a cup they had kept from dinner that night, and so Draco was so overjoyed that he was holding Harry's hands and kissing him more than usual. But Draco kept doing it, and Harry was sure it was becoming second nature to him, and he didn't realise what he was doing after each time they escaped from the prison together.

Draco was still kissing him smoothly, stroking Harry's tongue with his, running his hand softly through Harry's ever messy hair. Finally, Draco pulled away and shut his eyes with his head on his pillow before even glancing at Harry. Harry watched him for a few moments before he, too, closed his eyes. But just as he did, Draco spoke.

"You're amazing, you know," He whispered, his eyes still shut.

Harry, however, was wide awake, and staring at Draco. "I don't think so."

"You are," Draco replied dreamily, "People will adore you forever once you get us out of here."

"If I get us out of here, Draco," Harry corrected him, "I've been practicing for four months, and it's still not going very well. Please don't get your hopes up."

"You sound like your mudblood Granger, Harry; don't worry so much!" Draco said with a sneer, his eyes still firmly closed.

But Harry stood up suddenly at Draco's words and pulled his clothes back on before getting into his own bed. When he lay down he shot an evil glance over at Draco, who was now wide eyed and watching him.

"Oh, come on, Harry," Draco said, "I didn't mean it, it's just habit..."

"You meant every word!" Harry shouted somewhat louder than he meant to. Lowering his voice, he continued, "She's my best friend, and you just insult her in front of me! And Ron! And..."

Draco knew what Harry had been about to say and his eyes narrowed in a vicious sort of way, making Harry stop dead in his tracks. For some reason, Draco hated it when he spoke about Ginny.

Over the past four months, Ron and Hermione had come to visit him once more, bringing yet another letter from Ginny, declaring her undying love for him and stating that she would be waiting - faithful - for him when he got out. Harry had read it back in his and Draco's cell and felt utterly disgusted and sick with himself. Draco could obviously tell something was wrong, and although Harry was sure Draco knew what the letter would say, Draco forced it from Harry's hands and read it himself. Harry had watched him as his eyes scrolled across and down the lines, and his face became more restricted of emotion than Harry had ever seen it. Restricted as though he was trying to hide his true feelings. And Harry had to hand it to him, he had no idea what Draco was thinking as he calmly (perhaps a bit too calmly) placed the letter on Harry's bedside table and sat down.

"Just say it," Draco whispered as Harry stared at him now, still holding his tongue. "Say her name, it's not illegal. You do love her, after all."

Harry watched him. Four months, this had been happening. Four months of emotions getting stronger and stronger, sometimes reaching a point so intense that midway through the passionate sex they would both stop, staring into each others eyes, both with their mouths slightly open as if about to say something; but neither ever uttered a word. It was as if they were torturing each other. But Harry knew... He knew the truth... He just didn't want to admit it.

He took a deep breath, "Why do you hold my hand, Draco?" Harry asked quietly.

Draco looked quite taken aback at the sudden question. "What?"

"You never used to hold my hand," Harry stated, "We had sex and that was it. But now, you lie there with me, holding me, whispering things in my ear that I..."

"Potter," Draco interrupted with a sudden air of dislike that he hadn't used in months, "Don't get so full of yourself. You're imagining things beyond the ordinary that aren't true. Stop it."

"Draco, don't try to run away from..."

"I'm going for a walk," Draco cut in again, making to leave the cell. "The one day a month they leave the door open and we never take advantage of it anymore. I'll see you later."

"Draco, don't!"

But no sooner had the words left Harry's lips, Draco had disappeared down the long corridor. Harry sighed exasperatedly and felt anger bubbling extremely close to the surface. He knew the truth, even if Draco was too weak to admit it. But then, Harry wouldn't admit it either... Because, well, for the simple fact that it wasn't true. It could not be true. The only thing that he and Draco felt for each other was gratitude for helping the other escape the confines of the prison each night... That was all.

The frustration roared inside him and he let out a vicious growling noise as he punched his bed with all the strength he could muster. After kicking it hard, too, he let himself flop onto Draco's bed behind him, but sprung up immediately again, having spotted something extraordinary in the corner of the room.

A tiny flicker of bright, orange fire had erupted from nowhere. Finally the thing Harry had been practicing for four months had happened first time. Admittedly, he had not planned it, but all the hours they had put into trying to make a fire to use to get out of here had paid off.

The anger and frustration disappeared instantly at the sight of it, and instead Harry erupted with excitement. But he wouldn't risk letting the fire grow now, not while Draco wasn't with him, just in case something went wrong. So with a bit more difficulty and effort, he put the fire out by making water appear from nowhere, and in a small puff of smoke, it was gone.

Harry smiled to himself. Surely this meant he was getting better, and within the next couple of weeks he'd be able to do what he had just done without having to feel angry to make it happen...

"Potter."

Harry jumped almost a mile as the Death Eater Runcorn said his name at the doorway to the cell. He then counted his blessings that he had put out the fire mere seconds before Runcorn arrived.

Harry stood up quickly and replied, "Sir?"

He was not looking directly into Runcorn's face. Over the months he had spent here he had learned that that was a bad thing to do.

"The Dark Lord wishes to see you."

Harry's breath caught in his throat and he couldn't help but look quickly into Runcorn's sneering face.

"What?" He said, his voice suddenly hoarse.

"Manners, Potter," Runcorn said, "Crucio..."

Harry fell to the floor with a bang and started screaming for his life. He couldn't control the words erupting from his lips as pain surged through his entire body, and it was only when the curse was lifted that he realised he had been screaming with all his might for Draco.

He gulped and looked up, breathing quickly. Draco was standing behind Runcorn, looking worried.

"Now, Potter," Runcorn said, evidently not noticing the crowd gathering around him, "What did you want to say?"

Harry took a few deep breaths, "I said... Sorry? Sir?"

"Better. And I said, the Dark Lord wishes to see you," Runcorn sneered again.

"Why?" Harry asked, but a second too late he realised this was a stupid question to ask. He saw Runcorn's wand jab towards him again and pain ran through him once more.

It went on for minutes that seemed like hours this time. Harry couldn't take it. He wanted to die, here and now, screaming with pain and calling out for Draco...

It finally stopped and Harry gulped fresh air into his constricted lungs.

"Don't ask questions, you filthy muggle-loving boy!" Runcorn yelled. "Get up."

Harry was shaking from head to toe; he felt as if there was not one ounce of strength left in him, but he pushed himself into some sort of standing position nonetheless.

"Good, now follow me."

Harry began to walk behind Runcorn who had strode off. His weak eyes caught Draco's for a split-second before he passed the silent crowd, but even that was long enough to understand what Draco thought. Harry was being taken away to his death...

Ten long minutes later, Runcorn and Harry arrived outside one of the rooms where visitors usually came and stopped. The door to the room was closed, but Harry knew what was waiting for him inside it. He had regained none of his strength on the journey over here, but his breathing was once again steady, and he made a decision to keep it that way. He would not give Voldemort the satisfaction of seeing him afraid.

"You're in luck, Potter," Runcorn said, "The Dark Lord is in a particularly good mood tonight."

Harry stayed staring resolutely at the door. That was, until something appeared in front of his face. A long, thin wooden stick that Harry hadn't seen for months...

He looked around at Runcorn enquiringly, and Runcorn said, "He wishes me to give it to you, before you go inside."

Harry looked back round at his wand that Runcorn was holding in front of him, and placed his hand delicately around it. As soon as Runcorn let go Harry felt a surge of electricity run down his arm and into his body. Suddenly determined, he straightened up again as a signal that he was ready to go in.

The door before him opened and he walked through.

He heard the door close behind him so that he was plunged into a darkened room, although not pitch black. And it was so long before Voldemort showed himself that Harry had actually readied himself into duelling position. When Voldemort did make a sound, however, it was the sound of the high-pitched laughter that Harry knew so well...

"No, Harry," He said in a cold voice that seemed amused, "We are not fighting tonight."

And then lights all around the room shone suddenly so that Harry had to blink to get used to the change.

He squinted his eyes and looked over to the other side of the room and saw him, that snakelike figure sitting there on not a mere chair, but what seemed to be throne. Harry tried hard to suppress a snort. The snakelike face had not changed much since Harry's capture all those months ago; it was still ghostly white and a sneer of accomplishment shone through the slits of eyes as his long, white fingers tenderly twisted his wand around his hand.

"Come now, Harry," Voldemort said, "Come and sit with me."

Harry had not yet relaxed his duelling position, but did so after a couple more seconds, and moved forward tentatively, not taking his eyes off his enemy.

"You are wondering, I assume, why I wanted to see you?"

Harry said nothing. Evidently this was the wrong thing to do. All pretence was abandoned as Harry fell off his chair in pain and started screaming again. This time, however, he concentrated as hard as he could not to say Draco's name. Whether that actually worked, he didn't know, but he didn't want Voldemort to know who Harry was close to in here.

The pain stopped and Harry heard, "Be polite, Harry. Answer me."

Harry gasped to make his breathing regular. "Yes," he said, "I wondered."

"Good. Well, Harry, I have a proposition for you."

Harry looked at him as he pulled himself back into a chair.

"You must know, of course, that I plan to duel - and kill - you when your year at this prison comes to an end?" Voldemort said casually.

Harry nodded, "Yes," he replied. It was no surprise to him; he had known it all along. He knew that if Hermione were here, however, she would have just gasped and burst into tears.

"Good. Well I'm willing to offer you an alternative." Harry sat up a little straighter. "I have been watching you very closely while you've been here, Harry, and I've come to learn - despite how much I hate to admit it - that the old man that you were once so close to was right about you. Dumbledore always told me you had strength beyond others, and he was right. I told my Death Eaters to put you through hell enough that you should have died by now, and yet here you sit before me, alive and seemingly well. This is not what I planned, but it has given me an idea. My proposition is this. If you will join me, be branded with my Mark and tell me where the Mudbloods are, I will not kill you." Harry opened his mouth to say 'no' straight away, but Voldemort had clearly not finished. "If you will not, however..." A strange sort of evil smile appeared on his snakelike face that almost made Harry shiver. "Then I will bring Draco Malfoy here on the day of your so-called release and torture and kill him before your eyes."

The room filled with a heavy silence. He knew. Voldemort knew. But of course he knew. How could Harry have been naive enough to think that he wouldn't know? And what was more, Voldemort knew that Harry would not let someone he - what was the word, loved? - be tortured to death while he went free.

"The choice is yours, Harry, but I want your answer now," Voldemort said. "And rest-assured, if you say no to joining me, Malfoy will not be the only one of your friends that meet their ends while you stand by and watch."

What was Harry to do? Simply join Voldemort and tell him where Hermione was, or refuse and get Draco killed and eventually Hermione and Ron too?

"Hurry up, Harry..." Voldemort said coldly. "Crucio!"

He didn't try and stop himself this time, but could almost hear himself screaming out Draco's name... For what seemed like endless minutes...

The curse lifted and Harry was on the floor again, breathing heavily.

But Harry had made his decision. It just hit him. He would be stupid to say anything else.

"They..." He said heavily, "Would rather die than have me join you."

This was not the answer Voldemort had been expecting. Harry could see it in his blank eyes.

"You're a fool, Harry," Voldemort whispered. "But I will see you in a few months, when we will find out if you are really as strong as your precious old man foolishly believed you are. Leave."

Harry stood up defiantly, his wand in his hand. He could strike now; kill Lord Voldemort in a flash of green if only he knew whether Ron and Hermione had destroyed the rest of the Horcruxes. But it was too risky to try. On the other hand, he could start a fire so easily right now. He wouldn't have to be angry to do it. But again, if the plan didn't work, Voldemort and all the Death Eaters would know it was Harry who had done it because he was the only person who had his wand on him.

With all the restraint he could muster, Harry lowered his wand from Voldemort's expecting face and turned around slowly. He tried to walk calmly and at a normal pace back to the door, but in all honesty, fear got the better of him, and he walked rather quickly away from the snakelike figure of Lord Voldemort.


"Keep going, Potter," Runcorn whispered to Harry as they reached the corridor Harry's cell was on. "You filthy half-blood. You're walking right into your death..."

Harry left him at the end of the corridor and proceeded down towards his and Draco's cell. All the way back he had been pondering whether or not to tell Draco about Voldemort's plans. And whether or not he had actually made the right decision. What if his and Draco's plan did not work out the way it was supposed to, and he didn't actually manage to break out of here before he was supposed to be released - well, killed? Then he would have just sentenced Draco to death when he still had years to go in here which he would have been able to survive.

Harry was still wondering whether or not to break the news to Draco when he heard voices in one of the cells he was coming up to. One comforting girls voice, and another obviously crying and rather agitated.

"Oh, Draco," Maisie's voice said gently, "How did you let yourself get in this far? You've never done this before, and you've had two cellmates before him."

Draco sniffed loudly and said breathily. "Just... something about... him... But... now... he's... dead!"

"Not necessarily. Just because he got taken away to the Dark Lord doesn't mean he's going to kill him..." Maisie's voice, however, didn't sound convinced.

Harry stopped to the side of the cell door and listened carefully.

"I'm so stupid... So, so stupid!" Draco said loudly through the tears.

"You're not stupid, Draco..." Maisie said, also sounding close to tears now, "You're just... in love..."

Harry's breath caught in his throat and he thought he had gasped, but the two carried on talking, having not heard a thing.

"Exactly!" Harry heard a crash and assumed Draco had thrown a plate or something. "I am! And now he's dead! And now I'll go insane and not be able to survive the rest of my time here because all I'll think about is him and I'll be punished and get killed!"

"Draco, calm down!" Maisie shouted. "Just calm down! There you go... All you need is... to get away... That's it... Yes..."

Harry couldn't see, but he knew what was happening. Maisie's tone had changed, everything had become suddenly quiet.

"Oh, Draco..."

Something erupted inside of Harry at Maisie's last words. His previous lack of energy had disappeared. It felt like fire was inside him, about to burst out.

Harry ran into the room and pulled Maisie off Draco and slammed her against the wall, his fist raised to her face.

"You..." He spat, but a weak voice spoke behind him.

"Harry..."

Harry looked at Draco, anger still roaring inside of him. He then looked back at Maisie who seemed as if she was about to faint from shock of his sudden arrival, threw her hard against the wall again and stormed out of the cell towards his own.

He was in there for barely five seconds when Draco entered after him. He had no idea what the expression on Draco's face meant, but Harry stopped punching the walls and looked at him, breathing quickly.

"You're..." Draco whispered.

"What the hell were you doing?" Harry yelled.

Draco was shaking his head slowly, "I thought you were..."

"What difference does that make?" Harry shouted again, slamming his fist into the wall for the fifth time.

Out of nowhere, the cell door was slammed and they were plunged into darkness. Harry didn't feel the slightest bit embarrassed that Runcorn had seen and heard this.

Suddenly, a hand was on Harry's face, running smoothly back into his hair. And then lips were on his, and his shirt had disappeared off his shoulders, and another warm tongue was next to his, and something hard was being pushed against his, which he just realised was also pulsing quickly.

But then he snapped back to reality, and pushed Draco away quickly.

"What is this?" He half shouted, half croaked.

"What?" Draco said breathily.

"What are you doing? What is this?" Harry asked. "I heard you talking to Maisie just now, I didn't only see..." But he couldn't say it. It made him sick to think of what Draco had almost done... with someone else... Neither of them had slept with anyone else in the prison for weeks and weeks.

"You heard?" Draco repeated. "You heard what I said?"

"Is it true? Or were you just hysterical?" Harry asked bluntly.

"I... I don't like to admit..." Draco stuttered.

"Admit what? That you love me..." Harry had spat out the sentence in a malicious way, but when Draco didn't reply, his whole body and energy collapsed.

Draco said nothing, but that meant everything. Harry dropped onto the bed he was standing next to; the feeling in his legs having long escaped him. They sat in silence for endless minutes next to each other. Harry suspected Draco was silently crying, and when his eyes finally adjusted to the light he saw he was right.

"We're going to die, aren't we Harry?" Draco whispered after a long time.

Harry chose his words carefully, as with a pang, he remembered being in the room with Voldemort, and what he had decided to do. "We all die someday."

"I - I have... fallen in love with you, Harry..." Draco whispered even more quietly.

And then, thinking of nothing else in the entire world, Harry replied, "I've fallen in love with you, too."

"Harry," Draco whispered then so quietly that Harry had to lean closer to hear, "Will you make love to me?"

Never before had Harry been asked that phrase, not by Draco, Ginny, or anyone. And for some reason, the way Draco asked it, or just the fact that he asked it at all, made his heart thump harder in his chest and a strange lump appeared in his throat.

He didn't need to say anything, but he leant a couple of inches closer and their lips touched - differently this time, softer...

Everything happened slowly, but quickly at the same time, as Draco's clothes were removed with such gentleness that he probably hardly noticed, and Harry's trousers merely slipped off as he lay Draco down and kissed his body. After a few minutes Harry had found the right place, and Draco gave a moan that meant he was ready, and Harry entered him. Draco let out a wild moan of pain and pleasure combined along with Harry. The new sensation made him smile weakly as he found a rhythm that suited and satisfied them both. Harry then took Draco's length in his hand and moved it with the rest of his body.

Occasionally, it was like Draco was trying to speak, but he could not find the strength or the words, so Harry just kissed him, and hoped that this would mean more than words could say.

All too soon it seemed, Harry and Draco let out louder groans than usual as Harry released into Draco. A few seconds later Draco did the same, and with a gasp from each, Harry moved and lay down beside him.

For a while they lay there in silence, lapping up each others presence and the warmth of their two bodies together as Harry kissed Draco's neck softly, nipping it every now and then causing Draco so smile and moan gratefully.

"Harry," Draco whispered after a long while.

"Hmm?" Harry moaned, being half asleep.

"If we die here, I hope we die together."

Harry opened his eyes and looked into Draco's, which were staring at the ceiling. He was going to elaborate or retaliate by telling Draco that this was not the end, not their fate, but he decided against it. The night had been too emotional already to start any conversations like that. So he merely said, "So do I. I love you, Draco."

Draco smiled softly and closed his eyes. "I love you, too."


A/N Ahh they finally declared their love for each other! I love writing this moment in stories! I hope I wrote it reasonably well! Let me know what you think :D