Title: A Flower's Magic

Summary: Translated from Umbre77's. Captured by Voldemort, Harry has no other choice than accepting defeat. But Draco Malfoy, for his part, doesn't want to die! Even if it means changing the past to save himself! Slash

Author's Note: Hey everyone! After a little bit of a blank page syndrome, I have to admit I'm glad to have I-don't-know-how many chapters in advance! Lol

But don't worry it's fine now! Anyway, about this chapter… I quite like it because you FINALLY discover Harry and Draco's final looks so they can deceive everyone, although… It's a manner of speaking. Moreover, they'll be coming back to Hogwarts soon, which I don't doubt you were eagerly waiting for!

Also, I've noticed that quite a few of you were curious about Draco's and Harry's animagus forms… To my knowledge, only five of you guessed about Harry… As for Draco, only one guessed the type but not the species… Maybe the colours will help you?

The next chapter, of course, will be out on 27th February! See you later!

Enjoy reading!

PS: This takes place before the Deathly Hallows

Warning: This is a translation from Umbre77's fiction; I own nothing (except the mistakes you might find)

oOo

Chapter 6: Destruction of a horcrux

November 1973

It was always the clarion that awoke him, much to his annoyance. Harry always opened his eyes before then. He did not know when, but every time he opened his eyes, he plunged into the amazing green eyes of his partner. And as usual for two and a half years, he blushed. It was difficult to remain stoic by the sight of the singular former Gryffindor. Hard to ignore the attraction he felt for the muscular body pressed against his. A naked and horribly tantalizing body, even. Draco tried once more to convince himself that he felt nothing for the man stuck to him, but as the days passed, the more he doubted it.

"Before leaving, I will destroy the clarion" he said. "Even if it is the last act I have the chance to do, I'll destroy it, I promise!"

Harry smiled at his speech. He got up without comment. For once, it was he who had slipped into the room, so it was up to him to leave to go get dressed. Draco watched him go, holding with difficulty his desire to beg him to stay with him in the bed.

"My hormones are making me bloody crazy", he thought. "It is time I see someone ... But it is not the day before tomorrow!"

On this depressing thought, he rose in turn. With Fixe, no way could you be late. Although the physical exercises were not a punishment anymore, she still had a thousand and one ideas of torture!

"Here you are at last!" she exclaimed, when they entered the dining room, after running. "I thought you went to the North Pole! Sit down, we have much to discuss."

They obeyed. The large kitchen table was covered with food, as always. Fixe had four house-elves who were doing heavens' sent work he had to admit. They served plenty of different dishes before them.

"First", Fixe began, "we received a letter from Dumbledore. Things are moving in the world. Voldemort is becoming insistent. He's begun to gather more and more followers ... The good news is that Lucius' position remains unclear. He doesn't say no, but he doesn't declare himself against Voldemort either. I think he's preparing a way out. In any case, his position is clearly hesitant... Albus thinks your father is waiting for your return to decide... "

Draco nodded. It was a plausible possibility.

"Albus also informs us that he could not be present for the extraction of Voldemort's soul from your body, Ash. Unfortunately, he was required for a particular trial by the Wizengamot and as he is a representative, he must be present... "

The brunette was tense as he nodded his head. The extraction of the Horcrux continued to make him uncomfortable. With reason too, Fixe's explanations about it were terrifying. It would take them gaining access, both her and Draco, to his soul to separate it from Voldemort's. Then they would extract it from his body to seal it in a bottle. The danger was that they were likely to also extract his soul with it. And he did not want to die!

"We practiced dozens of times on animals, Ash", intervened Fixed. "It will be the same thing, you know... "

He just shook his head. Yes, they had trained, dozens and dozens of times. The Fun they had, defying the laws of nature, enclosing the souls of two rats in one body. Harry was disgusted with this process and he was relieved when each rat found its integrity again, although early experiences had resulted in several deaths. They were only rats... and a certain experience with some of the creatures should've encouraged him to feel some joy in mutilating the animals... but he was not a sadist and had enraged in seeing the little creatures lifeless... Now they were saving them each time. But that did not prevent him from being furious to have committed these acts of Dark magic.

"In short, today we will not talk about the Horcrux, but potions. I decided it was time to discuss your physical change. In less than four years, you'll re-join England and I want you to have time to get used to your new physique. I do not expect you to change much, just the hair colour. The rest already separates you from your parents, your skin colour especially. Your new tan already changes you, not to mention your amazing build. I thought you could drink a pigment-fixing potion in order to force your cells to keep this particular colouring. With your brown skin, Ash and your golden Drake, no one would imagine that you are from the Potter and Malfoy families. Them that are so ... well, let's be clear, they have the Brit's colouring: white!"

They smiled at that. The lack of sun over England did not promote tanning and even if it showed up, they were nonetheless pale most of the year. They had been so, too, before living in the Sahara.

"Besides this potion, I also thought of another that would permanently change your hair's colour."

Draco winced at the words. This was what he had feared. He didn't want to dye his hair. He had no idea what colour it would change into. He liked their current hue and didn't want to change it. This blond, it was perfect. And more... it was his Malfoy heritage. Oh, he still would have a pointed nose and silver eyes... but... he felt like he was rejecting his origins in attempting to change his hair. He knew he had no choice, but...

A hand landed on his thigh, startling him. He did not need to look to know it was Harry's. He too was feeling his upset, unless he too had the same feeling. Already he seemed chagrined, watching his long tame hair, due to its incredible length - then again, they fell to the middle of his back.

"I know that this idea doesn't please you, but without this option and despite your skin colour you will still look too much like your parents. Especially you, Drake."

He nodded softly. Officially, Draco Malfoy was not born yet. And Lucius thought he condemned his son to death by joining Voldemort. It would be of the worst effect to prove him wrong by poofing at Hogwarts like that four years later.

"I do not know what colour..." he began.

"The Potion will decide," replied Fixed. "We'll just make a change potion and your metabolism will choose for you..."

"What?" worried Draco. "But... This potion... No! It can choose a good colour, like brown or black, but it can also decide on fuchsia or turquoise..."

"Well, then they won't recognize you at all!"

And Harry thought that joke in itself was very bad… They went down with him in the huge underground laboratory of the palace. The first time he had set foot in it, Harry had complained. Why in Merlin's name did potion laboratories always stay in a basement? Fixe had patiently explained that this was necessary for the preservation of the magical elements. Those, in the sunlight, could have dangerous reactions. After several demonstrations, he vowed never to question the location of a room dedicated to magic. His arm almost completely devoured by a tiny leaf had deterred him forever!

When they entered, they no longer had the same stunned reaction to discovering the thousands of vials stored on shelves and cauldrons of different sizes placed on spacious worktables as the first time. They each approached two standard cauldrons.

"Drake, you take care of the pigment fixing potion. Ash, I leave you the other. The instructions are in the books I deposed near you. »

They shook their head and opened their book to the right page. Harry soon realized why he was handling the colouring potion. It was surprisingly simple! Despite several months of teaching in this area, he remained lousy. Oh, he had improved greatly, but it had to be said: he would never be a Potion Master, unlike Draco who handled the art with terrifying subtlety. None of them understood why, when he was awfully good at cooking, he lost all his wits when faced with a potion. Fixe shrugged it off as a "Potterian hereditary problem." Harry was sceptical about this explanation: Dumbledore, in a letter, had told him that James was, if not talented in that area, in any case resourceful. His mother? No, she was an incredible genius and she beat all records of Hogwarts points. Then who? His grandparents? He did not know them at all, had never even heard their name...

He walked away from this dangerous field to focus on his potion. Although it was of a childlike simplicity (for Draco), it nonetheless remained difficult for him. Thus he followed the instructions with excessive concentration, meaning he quickly developed a headache. A little further away, Fixe's eyes followed their every movement. Beside him, Draco muttered, also concentrating.

Just over two hours later, Harry had finished the colouring potion and admired Draco finish his potion. He would never admit it out loud, but seeing his former enemy work was something fascinating. He was totally absorbed in his task and his eyes shone with an almost hypnotic exultation. He was far from the Draco that stepped out of the dungeons… Especially the smell. At that thought, Harry smiled. It was still hard to believe that a human being that was so refined could smell so bad. Now, even during their physical year, Draco had always smelt good. Even the smell of sweat had not been noticeable after several kilometres of running. But the most amazing was his physical transformation. Draco was bigger than him. He had reached without difficulty the same size as Lucius. His long hair was just a little darker, token form Narcissa. And his light golden skin was quite attractive. Harry would not admit it either, but often in the morning, he amused himself with touching the skin of his partner, fascinated by its silky texture and its incredible colour. No, he would never say that to Draco, on pain of being strangled alive!

"Done," interjected Draco.

Harry jumped and looked at the boiling potion. It had taken on a slightly milky hue.

"Okay!" exclaimed Fixe. "We'll let it cool slowly. In the meantime, let's have fun building your future stock!"

That was what they had been doing for a month and they sighed together, approaching a much larger and wider cauldron than the previous ones.

"Ash, take care of the Reattaching bone Potion. Drake, you'll work on the Debauchery Night Potion... "

Harry blushed and turned his head toward her, letting out an inglorious "eh".

"It's just a name, Ash", intervened Draco, amused. "This is a potion that allows to recover from a sleepless night. It gives the feeling of having slept several hours. It was invented by a particularly depraved wizard, hence the name... "

Harry nodded, still troubled. Draco was clearly amused by his embarrassment. The blond knew full well that Harry was very uncomfortable with everything concerning sexuality. As proof, he always led away from any conversation about it as soon as they approached it in one way or another. Not that they often talked about that. But sometimes, during their Sunday off, Draco would imply something that bristled the prude Gryffindor. It was really fun to see him so refractory. Yet he wondered why his former enemy was so scared to the simple idea of talking about sex? He would probably never answer him without having drunk veritaserum beforehand.

Two more hours passed before Fixe was satisfied with their work. They sighed, their shoulders slightly stiff from leaning over a cauldron for so long.

"Well... We'll start with the fixing potion!"

She approached Draco's cauldron, took a ladle and two cups and poured a little of the whitish liquid in the containers. The two young men approached and hesitated before taking a cup each.

"I hate potions", Harry muttered, having sniffed the contents. "I bet it's foul-tasting!"

Draco resolutely shrugged. It was probably the case but it was useless to complain. Without hesitation, he raised the cup to his lips and swallowed its contents. It took only a few seconds for his taste buds to absorb the information that it was truly disgusting! The liquid was slightly gelatinous and tasted like old socks and cheese long abandoned in brackish water. He had to quickly pinch his hip with his free hand to keep from vomiting. When he managed to swallow, he caught a glimpse of Harry trying to keep his mouth shut. Then he felt the potion seep into his body and he was suddenly aware of his body. It was burning, warming and he knew exactly when the cells responsible for the colour of his skin were affected. He had the distinct sensation of feeling them one after another react to the drink. It was a strange feeling, a little stinging. Finally, the last effects faded and he was surprised to find himself gasping and trembling, on his knees. Beside him, Harry was in the same state.

"I allowed myself to prepare the next round", told Fixed, amused, pointing to two cups filled with Harry's reddish potion. "But before ... "

She approached them and strongly pulled out a hair from them both. They groaned painfully and plaintively. She laughed at their childishness before adding them to the cups and handing those over.

"You have to specify to the potion what you want to colour, unless you want to end up with red skin ... After drinking a fixing potion, I doubt that's a good idea!"

They both winced at the idea. Neither of them drank the potion. Both feared the outcome. And they did not want to give up their hair colour!

"Come on, a little courage!"

They threw her a glare. Then, in gratitude for their previous animagus transformation, Harry raised the cup to his lips and drank. It took a few seconds before his hair begin to change colour. Draco's eyes widened when he saw the phenomenon. It seemed that Harry's hair washed out of colour in front of his eyes to take on a sparkling white. However, to his surprise, some strands remained black. When the potion had finished acting, Harry had a white and black head. While not predominant, the black locks were clearly visible. Draco thought it suited him. With his tanned skin, it gave him a strange and mysterious air; a mystical flair. He smiled, nodding.

"You're beautiful," he said as a matter of fact, making a strong redness appear his partner's face.

"Uh... Thank you", he said.

Yet he moved his hand and turned his cup into a mirror. When he saw the result, his eyes widened.

"Wow", he said. "This is... amazing!"

Fixe vaguely agreed.

"Not that much", she said though. "I think your animagus influenced the potion... "

Harry blushed. Damned Animagus! Although, according to Dumbledore, his shape expressed his humanity, he none the less felt humiliated.

"Your turn," he said, fixing Draco with an amused smile.

The latter growled, but drank. He was surprised at the taste. It was neither good nor disgusting. It was like drinking curry soup. It was a bit disgusting, but not unpleasant. Finally, he felt heat on his head and turned his eyes to Harry. The latter looked at him with surprise and interest. Draco was worried.

"So?"

"Uh... well... It's... special?"

"Your Animagus influenced too", pointed Fixed.

Draco immediately looked into a mirror. When he saw himself he became flabbergasted. Influenced? So little! His hair had no defined colour. It was brown, interspersed with reddish and grey locks. Yet it was not ugly. He looked strange with these colours too, but he thought that only the lack of habit gave him the feeling. No doubt the Brits would find it hard to ignore once he went back. Physically, and with the hair colour, it would complete attracting people's curiosity, which would serve to distract Voldemort.

However, Draco frowned. Harry had said he was not particularly beautiful. However, in all modesty, he could say that he was stunning with those colours. Was Harry still blocking or was he just incredibly narcissist?

"So, this colour suits me?" He insisted, looking at the other man.

The latter blushed nodding and Draco was satisfied: blocking, again!

oOo

January 1974

Various talismans were suspended at each entrance to the room, whether it be doors or windows. A complicated pentagram was drawn on the ground with the blood of the three protagonists, mainly Harry's. The aforementioned was struggling to control himself. He was terrified. He knew it would not be easy and it would hurt. But he was also eager to be rid of that thing rotting his body and mind. If he survived it, he would hope for a future, even if that future was anything but one he had imagined, all those years ago.

Lying at the centre of the pentagram, he tried to ignore his beating heart watching Draco lean over him. He had cut his hair after their recent change. It now sported a long square cut, with two red locks down his face, larger than all the others. They thinned his face and increased his gaze's magnifying power. Harry did not need that to be troubled by Draco. The latter had disturbed him quite enough with his lascivious glances in recent months already.

Besides them, Fixe was preparing the pentagram for the future receptacle. She had solidified it with countless spell and had made it "attractive" to a soul without body. Harry's worry was that the bottle could contain only a single entity. If his soul was also torn from his body, he would find himself unable to flee or whatever and there were two possibilities. The first, the most encouraging: he returned to his body and everything ended well. The second, more unpleasant: he would die. Given the magnitude of the task they had left, he had no desire to surrender so soon. They still had so much to do, to find and destroy Horcruxes… So many families to save...

Over him, Draco's hands trembled as he applied on his chest the potion that cooled his metabolism, giving it a strange unpleasant sensation of cold. Draco's hands seemed boiling on his bare skin. He blushed, despite the situation. He was dressed as a simple black loincloth. Nothing really concealing and the silver eyes of his partner would have excited him, if he weren't so terrified. He started feeling a hand on his legs. Fixed finished stabilizing the future receptacle and Draco was helping to spreading the potion. In a corner of the room, a hot bath was waiting. When the Horcrux was removed, Draco would put him in the tub to warm him quickly. The cold made his body proper for extraction, but it could be dangerous and plunge the subject in a disturbing hypothermia once the process is complete. Countless rats had died from the cold. And he himself was beginning to dangerously chatter teeth. Only his arms were still spared. But soon he felt the cold also invade them as well. Above him, Draco frowned, visibly worried.

"Well", Fixe whispered while watching him. "We will begin."

She did not ask him to relax: it was useless. Any normal person would be frightened and she knew it. Draco and her placed themselves on either side of his body. Fixe was the closest because she was the one that would extract and manipulates the soul piece. Draco, he was closer to the tub to get it there faster. Harry closed his eyes, listening with fear the voices of the two persons accompanying his days - and nights for Draco - recite a litany in Latin. He knew every word and when his turn came, he uttered the words. Draco seemed to ask a question and he replied with a false firmness.

"Yes, I entrust my soul."

"Yes, I entrust my heart."

"Yes, I entrust my life."

Each response intensified the cold that inhabited his body and after a long time, it felt like lying on a snowdrift. The pentacle was initiated and continued to cool his body. He lost knowledge quickly, unable to stay awake as next to him, Fixe and Draco continued the ritual in which he replied properly, without realizing it.

Next to him, the other two were trying not to lose their cool. Or at least, Draco tried to stand firm and decided. But he wasn't really carrying it off. If Harry died, he not only would be alone in the fight against Voldemort, but in addition, he would definitely be the last survivor of their time. This simple idea made him want to cry and scream. He wanted to hang on to Harry and beg him not to die. He could not end up all alone in that time. He needed Harry. If he died, he did not know if he would have the courage to continue. He looked at the unconscious body whose mouth was moving by itself. Blue light surrounded him and ice had formed on the long hair tied in a braid. Suddenly, a black light was cut out of the body but another, more brilliant and sparkling, began to get out. Fixed immediately shouted:

"Prevent Harry from getting out! I handle the Horcrux!"

He ignored from that moment everything Fixe did. He knew the procedure by heart. While Fixe declaimed another incantation, Draco pronounced his own spell.

"Thank you for your trust and your faith in me. I thank you for giving me your soul, your heart and your body. Your sacrifice was highly appreciated. Now, by all that is dear to me, I pray thee, retake them. Your soul is yours, yours alone. It must fill your body, the one envelope suited for it. Your heart, so precious, is essential for that. So I give you it back to you in whole confidence."

Harry's soul seemed to stop at that. It stood still for a moment, came out a little and began to re-enter. Draco sighed, continuing to speak in a fast Latin. Fixe also declaimed her own mantra to get the Horcrux. The danger was that the Harry's soul could interpret the words as it's own. Draco had to continue to say his own incantation. To make sure the Horcrux didn't appropriate his spell, Draco leaned over Harry's body, and the golden soul. It seemed perturbed by his closeness but Draco was not worried. He positioned his mouth against the spectral shape and continued to rant at high speed.

"Become life, join your envelope. I beg you. Lie down deeply in the flesh that was given to you 20 years ago. Become one again with this body, with this heart which is only yours."

On the other side, Fixed continued to cast reinforcements with baguette movements, pulling the Horcrux out. The black mist left Harry's body and Draco did not dare look at it. He could not do it without being terrified. Until Harry was saved, he would prevent from looking up. He spoke again, always ordering him to stay there, to hang on. He hadn't known he was that good in a dead language! Finally, after 15 minutes, as he felt his magic run out, he heard Fixed utter a cry of victory. Then he looked up. The Horcrux was heading for the bottle. It dived and there, after a wand movement from Fixe, found itself locked in. Immediately, she turned to him and began casting the same spells as him. Harry's soul, having already returned, immersed itself into his body.

"Quick, the bath!"

Draco quickly nodded. He grabbed him by the arms and lifted him. He dragged him more than carried Harry to the tub. There, rather than lift Harry and drop him in the bath, he went in with him. He shivered, feeling the warm water soak his clothes but paid no attention. Instead, he settled in the water, hugging Harry's cold body against his.

Though unconscious, Harry had heard every word. He especially paid attention to Draco's voice. He knew his incantation was pronounced for help, even if it was in a state of extreme confusion. While unconscious, he had the impression of being completely awake but also very light. As if he was floating. He also had felt a tugging deep within himself, as if they tore a piece of him from his body. From his soul. It took him a moment to realize that this was the case: they took away the Horcrux. When he felt the contact of the hot water and Draco's body against him, he slowly returned to consciousness. He opened his eyes and looked hesitantly at the ceiling above him. Then he turned his head from side to side to make eye contact with his partner, leaning over him.

"Is it...?" he stammered painfully.

"It's done", Draco said, voice hoarse with emotion. "We've succeed. You are saved."

And Harry, to his surprise, wept with emotion, tight against Draco's body.

To be continued...

Have you guessed their animals forms?