-Chapter 6-

October 1, 1998

"After what happened at the end of Sixth year, I was nearly lost. I tried to be strong for everyone, but one of the only people I had really counted on, despite the many disagreements we had once I found out how much was kept from me, was dead. Gone. Vanished right before my eyes. It was the third time I had seen someone die needlessly. Cedric hadn't a warning; he had no idea what was happening until it did. He deserved better. Sirius…he was being Sirius. He was wonderful and impulsive and…and it killed him. And Dumbledore…he died protecting me," Harry's voice lowered down to a whisper, not meeting Draco's eyes.

"What do mean he died protecting you?" Even though Harry could not see them, he could feel Draco's eyes piercing through him, demanding that he explain.

"I was there, that night in the tower. I saw everything. I saw you try to kill him and fail. I saw you hesitate, saw you consider everything that he offered you, and I saw that the reason you were so afraid was not as cowardly and selfish as I had once thought. You didn't see me because I was under an Invisibility Cloak, and Dumbledore had petrified me. I couldn't move; just stand there and watch Snape kill him.

"There's a part of me that still blames myself for what happened to them: Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore, everyone else who died because of me. If I hadn't told Cedric to share the win, he would be alive. If I hadn't been stupid and fallen for Voldemort's trick, Sirius wouldn't have gone to the Department of Mysteries and gotten himself killed. And if I hadn't been there that night, Dumbledore wouldn't have protected me first, and then be better able to defend himself, even with all that the potion had done."

"Harry, you can't just--"

"I know it's not really my fault," Harry interrupted. "I know that now, but for a long time all I could think about was not letting everyone down. Not letting another person die on my behalf, when so many others already had. So I pushed everyone away. I broke up with Ginny; I stopped going by the Burrow; I left Hogwarts; I tried to make Ron and Hermione leave, but they were determined to help me. In the end, I think I really did need their support, no matter how many times I yelled at them to leave."

"Where did you go, if you didn't return to Hogwarts?" Draco asked.

"I went to find the remaining Horcruxes."

There was a slight pause before, "The i what /i ?"

"The Horcruxes, the pieces of Voldemort's soul," Harry answered.

"The i what /i ?" Draco repeated.

"Voldemort discovered that by committing a horrible, terrible act, he could split his soul in two and leave one piece in another object while retaining the other half in his body. The first time he did this he was sixteen, and he killed his father and his paternal grandparents. He put part of his soul into a diary, a diary that preserved his sixteen year old self and that has only resurfaced recently," Harry explained.

"The diary that my-- that Lucius gave the Weaselette," Draco said, leaning back and shutting his eyes.

"You knew?" Harry asked sharply.

"Not then," Draco protested. "I only found out later, when it was over. I don't even think Lucius really knew what it was; he probably just knew it would ruin the Weasleys' reputation or something. Lucius was a very proud man, Harry."

"Yes. I know," Harry responded before going silent for a few moments. The silence stretched between them as they both thought about a man that they hated, even though one of them was still forced to love him.

"That was one Horcrux down," Harry began.

"Wait a minute, you mean there's more than one? That the Dark Lord split his soul a bunch of times? No wonder he's nuts," Draco commented incredulously.

"Yes, well, I'm sure having your soul ripped apart a few times doesn't exactly lead you down the path of self improvement. Anyhow, that was only one Horcrux. Dumbledore discovered another: a ring that had belonged to Salazar Slytherin, and that had been passed down through Voldemort's family until he came to own it. That was the second Horcrux, which Dumbledore destroyed before the beginning of Sixth Year," Harry continued.

"Are you telling me that Dumbledore had a ring that belonged to bloody i Salazar Slytherin /i , and he i destroyed /i it!" Draco shouted, leaping off his chair. "He destroyed a priceless artifact that was over a thousand years old and belonged to one of the most important and influential men in Wizarding history and--"

"And that now had a piece of Voldemort's soul in it, and would be required to be destroyed in order to ensure that Voldemort would die? Yes, he did!" Harry shot back. "And it's a good thing he knew enough to destroy it, or Voldemort would still be running around and killing people today! Are you finished?"

Draco stopped sputtering as the realization hit him. He stood very still for a moment, face blank, before he sat himself back in the armchair again and nodded for Harry to continue.

"The third Horcrux was a locket that had also belonged to Slytherin and had been passed down to Voldemort's family. Dumbledore figured out that Voldemort had hid it in a cave that he had once visited as a child, and so him and I went there the night of the attack in Sixth year. That's why Hogwarts was 'defenseless,' because Dumbledore and I were getting the third Horcrux."

"So did you destroy that little piece of history as well?" Draco grumbled.

"No. It wasn't the right locket. Someone else had gotten to it first, and replaced the locket with a false one containing a note that explained what that person had done," Harry said.

"First off, you said this thing contains a piece of Voldemort's soul, right? So it must have been heavily guarded. I can understand Dumbledore getting through, but some nobody? Who bothers to leave a false locket and a note after he gets past all the defenses and steals the real one? It doesn't add up, Potter," Draco complained.

"The defenses were heavy, and required two people, one of which had to be not legally recognized by the Ministry, to break through. I believe this person got a house-elf to help him, and was therefore able to penetrate the defenses, steal the locket, and leave another in its place," Harry theorized.

"And just who was this person?" Draco asked skeptically.

"Regulus Black, Sirius' brother," Harry answered promptly.

"And the house-elf thing?" Draco sputtered.

"The job required two people, but only one magical person could pass through unharmed. When Dumbledore and I went, I didn't count as a magical person because I was not legally recognized by the Ministry as a full-fledged wizard yet. A house-elf is not recognized as anything other than a lowly slave, so it couldn't be recognized as a full magical person in the sense that was required for getting past the defenses. So, Regulus brought along the family house-elf, Kreacher, whom he swore to secrecy. After getting the locket, Regulus brought it back home to Grimmauld Place for safekeeping while he tried to find a way to destroy it. Before he could though, he was killed as a traitor to the Voldemort," Harry explained.

"Yeah, I remember my mother talking about him once or twice. And maybe even Aunt Bella as well. He didn't seem to be that great of a Death Eater, from what I've heard," Draco mused.

"Yeah, well, he died as one. But the point is that once I had figured out who had taken the Horcrux, I could figure out what had happened to it."

"Don't you mean once Granger had figured it out, Potter?" Draco drawled.

"No. I figured out it was Regulus. Though Hermione did realize where the Horcrux was," Harry admitted.

"And…" Draco said leadingly.

"And it turned out that when we had been cleaning Grimmauld Place once, we had been going through some of the family artifacts. One of them was this great big locket that none of us could open, so Sirius just chucked it away in the trash. But Kreacher was there, stealing away what he could and saving them as he muttered about old Mrs. Black. That really was creepy, now that I stop to think about it," Harry paused, before taking up the story again after Draco cleared his throat.

"So we found out that Kreacher had recognized the locket and kept it in secret. It's really a miracle that Regulus had thought to forbid Kreacher from giving it to anyone who supported Voldemort, or else I'm sure Narcissa would have had it years ago. We forced Kreacher to give the locket to us, and then Hermione, Ron and I destroyed."

"Another priceless artifact lost to the cause," Draco cringed.

"That wasn't all. There was also the Hufflepuff cup, Nagini, and the very last Horcrux: Ravenclaw's bronze quill."

"The Dark Lord deemed something that belonged to i Hufflepuff /i worthy enough to carry his soul?" Draco demanded icily.

"Um, yes?" Harry squeaked, alarmed by how upset Draco was over this fact.

"But...but…I understand something of Ravenclaw's, knowledge is power after all, and I can deal with the whole possessing his own snake thing, very Slytherin, but a Hufflepuff cup! It's just too much!" Draco exasperated.

"Draco get a hold of yourself!" Harry shouted. "It's just a damn cup!"

"But not only did you destroy Slytherin's possessions, you deemed a damned cup owned by Hufflepuff as a Horcrux, as containing a piece of the Dark Lord's soul. It's preposterous, Potter! Why in all that is above would the Dark Lord place something as important as his soul into such a lackluster object?" Draco shrieked.

"The Hogwarts Four, Draco! I know you don't like the Hufflepuffs or the Gryffindors and can barely tolerate the Ravenclaws if only for their usefulness, but the Founders were damn powerful, Draco, and any object that belonged to them is equally important! Voldemort understood that," Harry said.

"Fine! At least tell me that you destroyed the hideous thing!" Draco shouted.

"I did! I broke the cup, rusted the quill that was hidden in the Owlery, and slashed that damn snake to shreds! And then I went after Voldemort and cut his heart out and then destroyed that! I had his bloody heart in my hands. The blood--the blood was everywhere and I ripped it apart with my bare hands. I fucking destroyed Voldemort just like everyone wanted me to! And in the end I couldn't do it with magic, I had to do it using just myself. I did it! Me! Are you happy now?" Harry screamed, tears streaming down his face that was only inches away from Draco's.

Before he realized it he had collapsed against the other boy, knees buckling underneath him and dragging them both to the floor. Draco was shocked to the core, awkwardly putting his arms around the weeping man crumpled in his lap.

He struggled to come to terms with what he was hearing, of what Harry had been forced to do in order to kill the Dark Lord. It hadn't been just a wave of the wand and a few spoken words; no, it had taken a lot more than anyone could have expected. Harry had to hunt down those Horcruxes and destroy them all. He then had to kill Voldemort without the aid of magic, or else Voldemort could have just come back again and again as he always had done. Harry had been forced to give his blood to the Dark Lord when he was fourteen years old; at the age of seventeen, he had returned the favor and taken the blood back.

Draco awkwardly rubbed circles on Harry's back, trying to stop the sobs that were still wracking the boy's frame. Draco had never been very comfortable with large shows of affection. Lucius had always been cold, demanding and hard to please, and Draco had never asked for his father's love. He understood that love was something Lucius considered as a weakness, because it lead people to think irrationally; to do things for love, instead of for power, self-interest and even the family name.

So young Draco understood that Lucius would never be capable of the kind of love that he read about in fairytales or saw with the mothers and fathers and children in Diagon Alley or other wizarding establishments. He never strived to earn his father's love; he wanted his father's respect and approval instead, and that would replace fatherly love.

Draco had spent almost his entire childhood wanting to hear one simple phrase from Lucius: "I'm proud of you." Even when he had failed the Dark Lord, failed to help his father leave Azkaban, failed to stay in the country and support his father once the Death Eaters had broken out of Azkaban and rejoined the Dark Lord's side. Even though he knew he had failed his father in every way possible, a part of him still hoped that one day his father would look at back at how much his son had accomplished in his name, and maybe speak a kind word or two in his favor.

"I'm proud of you."

He never heard it.


Draco awoke to find himself on the floor with Harry still in his arms. They had shifted in their sleep, but Harry was curled in towards him, face still buried in his neck and steady breath tickling the little hairs there. In truth, Harry was laying more on him than on the ground, using Draco as a pillow in order to avoid the harsh floor.

Draco tried moving, but every time he did Harry would murmur something and cling to him all the harder. He have several attempts at rolling them over, but they came to no good.

"Potter?" Draco tried. "Potter? Harry?"

It was quite frustrating and Harry really was getting very heavy and now his arm was going numb, and there was this weird feeling below his navel and oh god--

Draco realized that being a lustful and hormone driven eighteen year old he couldn't help, but it didn't make matters any easier. Because right then and there, with Harry bloody Potter draped all over him and nuzzling into his neck, Draco Malfoy had a hard on of epic proportions. The morning boner couldn't have just spared him one day, but instead chose this day to force him to endure utter humiliation as the largest erection he had quite possibly ever had was jutting up against Harry's thigh. Draco was quite certain that it would be impossible for Harry not to realize that it was there, but the boy i wouldn't wake up/i

Cursing Dark Lords and tears and blubbering idiots who blamed themselves and the stupidity that must have overcome him when he pulled Harry into his arms, Draco gingerly tried to wiggle his away out from under Harry. The result, however, was that he instead ended up rubbing his erection against the delightfully friction-causing jeans that Harry had been wearing, making him gasp as pleasure flooded through his system.

This is not happening. Draco thought. I am not underneath Harry Potter and trying to get out yet foiled by stupid morning erections! And goddamn you, why can't you just wake…er. Go back to sleep go back to sleep go back to sleep.

At the exact moment that Draco had managed to maybe break free and take care of his problem in the privacy of the bathroom, Harry opened his green eyes, lifted his head, and sleepily stared down at the terrified face beneath him.

"Hallo, Draco," he mumbled, twitching his nose adorably and burrowing his face back down in Draco's neck.

There was a few moments of silence, before--

"What!" Harry yelped, head snapping back up and neck cracking brilliantly as he took in the situation that was facing him. He had his arms around the blonde, one leg thrown in between the other's legs, and his hips pressed very deliberately against the boy beneath him. "What's going on?"

"I'm awake, you're awake, I'm trapped, and you're on top of me. Care to let go now?" Draco asked, voice slightly strained, ever mindful of the painful erection that he was still trying to hide.

"Er…yeah, sure. Sorry about that," Harry stammered, letting his weight drop and bracing his hands against the floor so he could push himself back up. He paused a moment, staring down inches away from Draco's face, who was looking right back up at him.

"Harry?" Draco said softly.

"Yeah?" came the breathy reply.

"Weren't you getting off of my around now?"

"Oh! Oh, yeah," Harry said, pushing himself jerkily off of Draco and picking himself off the ground. He brushed the front of his pants nervously, avoiding eye contact with the blonde as he got up.

"Um..."

"Er…"

"…I'll just be in the bathroom, then," Draco said quickly.

"Yeah, I'm gonna change," Harry answered.

They both moved off quickly in separate directions, not speaking another word. Neither noticed the breathy sighs and quieted gasps that floated through the thin walls of the flat, so anxious they were to cover up their own sounds of pleasure and shame.

TBC. Please R/R.