Title: Taking What's Mine

Author: KnightKitten

Beta: Mabel Stanley

Draco felt warmth pressed against him and a calming rhythmic rising and falling at his side. He frowned to himself silently, wondering what had woken him. Opening his eyes, he saw a dark figure looming over them. Harry shifted against his side and snuggled closer, thick braid of ebony sliding over his shoulder smoothly. The person was taking no notice of Draco; instead his dark eyes watched Harry's hair intently as it fell to the bed. Fire burned in his eyes and an almost commiserating smirk crawled onto his face. Draco was hit instantly by the similarity between Harry and this nameless stranger; they had the same face. And that expression. He'd seen it before on a face almost identical.

Both coolly pointed and high-cheek boned with big jeweled almond-eyes. Where Harry's were like emeralds, however, the strangers' glinted a sinister amethyst. He was taller than Harry and his hair was slightly longer, but that was where the differences ended. Draco had to suppress a possessive growl as the stranger ran a tender hand down Harry's face, and duly stored the strange emotion away to analyze at a latter date. His inattention was costly though as a piercing scream shattered the quiet. Draco's eyes snapped up soon enough to catch sight of dark purple, almost red eyes and a swirl of smoke before the figure was gone.

Harry was whimpering and Draco cursed pulling the smaller body to his own and trying to pry open Harry's grip from where he was clutching desperately at the side of his head. This became easier, as both their hands were soon slick with blood. Harry's breath evened out after a tense few moments and he slumped against the covers, eyes sliding closed reluctantly. His face was paling rapidly and Draco cursed again ripping the sheets out from under them and beginning to shred it into strips just as the door crashed open. Severus was framed in the doorway; his wand lit and held high over head. He too cursed at the sight of their hostage curled upon the bed, blood blooming around him rapidly.

'You and your damn fetishes Draco,' He muttered. The blonde didn't bother too protest, just assisted Severus in pressing the sheets against the open wound. Pulling the stained part away, Draco finally caught site of the wound. A large chunk was missing from the top of Harry's ear and Draco felt a pang reverberate through his heart at the sorry sight.

They sat in silence as the Potions Master stemmed the bleeding. The flow finally appeared to slow and the older man ran his wand along the wound, ignoring the whimper that responded.

'Episky,' the skin on either side knitted itself together until there was a neat crescent shaped piece missing from the otherwise pointed ear. Snape turned to him, mouth open and ready to ask questions. Draco cut him off.

'I'll see to him now. Inform Blaise and Pansy we're leaving first thing in the morning,' Severus closed his mouth with a snap, recognizing the dismissal and striding from the room angrily.

Draco sighed, stooping over Harry's still form. After a moment he began to laboriously clean dry blood from Harry's lily white skin. His thoughts flitted around, non-committing and vague. But piercing amethyst eyes plagued him and he felt his body temperature rise and lust course through him. That stranger, whoever he was, had power. And Draco wanted a piece of it. But there was still the question of how similar this mysterious stranger and Harry were. And for a moment he'd almost recognized the expression that he'd seen once before. Harry's eyes had held that same blood-lust twinkle on the ship, when they'd first started their lessons.

He scowled at Harry's almost sad face. He didn't owe the little twerp anything. It had all been acting; that at least he knew. Harry was his ticket to a pricey mission cash-in and the fact that he had a pretty face wasn't going to change anything. He may have sucked the Potter boy in, but he wasn't going to let himself fall for his own plotting. He scowled.

'What do I care? You're just an easy fuck,'

James Potter was in a daze, riding steadily from where he had last seen his son. His mind was completely blank, images flitting through occasionally; Oliver's lifeless and bloodied corpse, beseeching emerald orbs and the cruel tilt of slitted crimson eyes. Sirius looked stony, riding beside him rigid and silent. Remus was worrying his lip agitatedly and James could hear Ron and Hermione whispering hurriedly behind him. The vast army of riders followed sullenly behind.

The pendant around his neck heated up, startling him and a rush poured through his blood, pushing up and clearing his mind. He gasped, clutching his head and slamming his disabled occlumency shields into place. He shivered at the high pitched laughter that was now receding quickly.

He cursed, calling a halt and pulling the pendant from under his shirt, dismounting and striding into the forest quickly. Leaning against a tree, he looked up at the early morning sky and cursed himself. How could he have let Voldermort get into his head for so long? Now those dratted Rogues had gotten away. Tapping the pendant twice with his wand, it expanded into a small hand mirror. His image flickered for a moment and then was replaced by a sneering pale face.

'Took you long enough, Potter,' Snape snarled, glaring at his childhood nemesis.

'That's Your Highness, to you, Snivelly,' He smirked in return. Snape growled but continued.

'What the hell were you thinking? Just letting us walk away. You had the perfect opportunity to get your brat back and you walked away!' James sighed, the energy needed to fight back dissipating quickly.

'I know,' he sank to his butt tiredly, 'Voldermort got me. I just managed to get him out after you called,' Severus' face softened and he sighed too. He spoke after a moment's thought.

'The damage isn't irreparable. However, there is something you should know,' Severus looked worried for a moment, an expression James had learned foretold disaster more often than not, 'I woke to screaming last night. It was Harry,' James could feel the blood draining from his face and his pulse speeding up, 'I don't know how or why, but when I got there a chunk of his ear had been ripped clean off,' Severus paused, gauging his friends expression almost wearily. Neither spoke for a long moment, before Severus resolutely continued.

'He was sharing a room with Draco, however I don't think it was actually his doing,' James snorted.

'Who else could it have been? They were in a room alone together. What reason would anyone have for ripping a chink out of my son's-,' James chocked. His son. His beloved child. When had everything gone so wrong?

'James, whatever you may think, I don't think Draco would have any reason to hurt him. They've-,' he also stopped, almost thinking better of his words, but plowed on anyway, 'They've gotten close,' James felt as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water over him.

'What? What do you mean? Oh goddess no, they can't have!' his voice failed him.

Severus' face took on the most sincere expression James had ever seen.

'It is my belief that Harry is as safe in Draco's care as he could be in given the circumstances. Despite what Draco seems to think, he has come to…concern himself with your son,' James stared at Severus' awkward expression for a moment.

'Is that your inadvertent way of saying he…has fallen in love…with Harry?' Severus wouldn't make eye contact, but his silence was telling.

'And Harry?' James paused anticipating an answer, but Severus didn't respond. He felt his resolve harden.

'It changes nothing! I won't let Voldermort, or whoever else, have my son! If Malfoy was in love with Harry as you seem to think he is, why is he missing a chunk out of his bloody ear? That's not love! That's psychotic!' the word triggered a flicker of a memory in the corner of his mind, but he ignored it in favor of stifling the frustrated tears welling up in his eyes, 'I want my son back and I want these Rogues dead. I don't care what you do, just please…make it happen,' Severus frowned.

'I'll try and slow them down. But I think that we should concentrate on who actually did this. Draco would not have. He had nothing to gain from it,' James just shook his head.

'I don't care. Just bring me my son,'

'You're making a mistake,' Severus sneered. It was only after he disappeared that James remember Oliver's massacre. And that he hadn't told Severus.

He was swaying when he woke up. The smooth steady sway of horseback riding lulled him into consciousness smoothly, distracting him from the dull throbbing in his head and the sting in his ears. Harry sighed, letting panic course through him, almost dully, trying to think rationally past the purple-red eyes that flooded his senses. He'd known the instant the seal had broken. Somewhere in his heart he'd known that Duet was back, but denying it was so much easier than facing that horrible part in his life. He wanted to be normal more than anything, but that had been made pretty much impossible.

He sighed, breathing in the warmth that surrounded him, dully noting that he could smell Draco in the cloth his face was pressed into. Harry had known Duet would be back for him. Now it was only a matter of waiting for him to carry out what ever deviousness he'd planed. Harry sat up; noting that his double ended blade was strapped to his back and an evergreen cloak had been thrown around him to ward off the early morning chill.

The light was slowly clearing up, the fog receding as the sun started its path across the sky. It was early, that much Harry knew and he reached a hand up to feel his abused ear, ignoring Draco's surprised jerk. He felt disjointed and not just a little bitter. What do I care? You're just an easy fuck. Harry allowed himself a self commiserating smirk, before turning his attention to their surroundings. Blaise and Pansy were lagging behind, bickering and Snape was riding beside them smoothly. Harry was surprised to find the Potions Master observing him closely, unreadable and cold. Harry looked away quickly, avoiding his eyes.

He laid his cheek against Draco's clothed chest and it was almost as if they were both afraid of acknowledging each other. Harry imagined that his fair-haired companion felt guilty. The thought bought a bitter smile to his face. He'd encountered all kinds of hurts and defeats and disappointments over the years, but he'd never felt this. Maybe this was how Oliver had felt, happy and aglow whenever Harry entered the room, only to suddenly be hit with the knowledge that he wasn't wanted. That Harry didn't need him; was just humoring him. He resolved to pay more attention to the older boy when he was finally dragged back to the castle.

And then acknowledged that that was the first time he'd had thoughts of going home. What had he expected? That he was going to run around the country with Draco, whirlwind lovers and forever avoiding their pursuers. Where had he thought they were going? The Rogues were taking him somewhere, somewhere they were making a huge effort to get to; even enough to stand up against royalty and armies of men. They had to have some bigger agenda, something that would benefit them hugely or they would have just given him up and fled.

Harry felt a fierce longing for home all of a sudden. Maybe not the stone walls, or the dining hall or even his bedroom, but he missed Ron and Hermione's supporting smiles whenever he felt weak, or afraid. He longed for Remus' strong hugs and Sirius' barking laughter and the Weasley's and all the guards who would laugh and joke with him, treat him like a person and not a weakling. He missed the feeling that he could trust someone to not stab him in the back. He missed being able to relax and trust in the people around him. He was so tired of being on edge and feeling like something was going to jump out at him from the bushes at him at any moment.

Then he thought of his parents and he suddenly knew what he had to do. He would learn all he could from Draco and his companions and then he'd travel. He'd learn as many spells as he could, and he'd learn to fight as fiercely as any soldier. He wasn't in the palace anymore, and he wasn't kept from his magic or from horse-riding and sword-fighting and whatever else. He'd run and learn while he could, until his parents caught up with him, because they eventually would, and then he'd show them that he didn't need a husband to rule a country that was his by birth.

Twisting in the saddle, he locked eyes with Draco, who looked startled to be acknowledged, after the long silence.

'You need to keep teaching me to fight Draco. That scrap yesterday night was completely one-sided, and I have no doubt that whoever it was that attacked me had a reason for it,' Harry turned, facing the road ahead of them once again and proceeding to ignore Draco.

Draco vaguely acknowledged that Severus was slowing down to ride evenly with Blaise and Pansy, as he let indignation course through him. Gripping the horse underneath him with his knees, he took Harry by his upper arm and turned him so that they could make eye-contact again. Whatever he was about to say was lost as Harry looked at him coldly. It was suddenly very easy to remember that Harry had grown up in a palace court, surrounded by politics and gossipers and all-sorts of challenges that he himself had left behind a long time ago. Draco took his errant train of thought to hand and hardened his expression.

'You know more than that. Don't act as if you don't. I've given you enough leeway, but remember you are my prisoner. Tell me, who was that man last night? What was he doing in our room,' Draco didn't know what he was expecting, but contempt wasn't on the list.

'And as your prisoner, isn't it my duty to be as uncooperative as possible? You also forget, as a prisoner, doesn't that mean I am completely disobliging? Don't tell me that is how I've been acting. I've been a warm body and I even sent my father packing. Don't take me for pampered or stupid Draco Malfoy,' Draco caught a glimpse of the Harry Potter of yesterday in the tears that he thought he saw bubbling in the smaller boys eyes, before he had spun around and was facing the front again.

'At the next town I want to get my own horse,' He murmured and Draco just nodded, numb.

They stopped for lunch at the hottest part of the day, lounging in the shade for an hour before starting on again; Harry perched on the back of Pansy's horse. Draco felt dazed and not a little confused. Why was he allowing them to stop so long? He could have started them out earlier this morning and had lunch on the move. It would have made their trip so much faster. They stopped well before the sun had set, setting up camp as they were still a day or two's ride from the next town over. Harry managed to convince Blaise to spar with him and the two exchanged blows until dinner, Blaise correcting posture and swings as they went.

Their travels continued in much the same vein. Some nights they stayed at inns or in barns, others under the night sky. Draco couldn't help but notice that Harry was a complacent prisoner, learning spells from Pansy and Severus as they rode, levitating rocks or stunning and enervating animals, and learning fighting at night from Blaise. The two would branch out into physical spars as the time passed something Blaise, at first, was supremely better at. Until Harry learnt to use his height and weight to his advantage. He was fast and would most times just let blows glance off him. It took awhile, but the fights soon evened out. And sometimes at night, Draco would wake to find Harry sitting up and meditating. When he finally asked what the younger boy was doing, he'd sighed, curling into his blankets wearily.

'I'm trying to carve open the channels for my magic,' He'd drifted off to sleep after and Draco had been suddenly aware that those were the first sentences the two had exchanged since they'd first started out after Harry had lost the part of his ear.

His eyes always followed the other though, lusty sometimes, but other times just aware. How could the two of them have been so lively and close with one another only two or so weeks ago, and then suddenly, overnight almost, been reduced to ignoring one another constantly. Draco had been startled at how close he'd let the prince when it finally hit him. And just thinking about the mysterious stranger who had attacked Harry so viciously set him on edge.

Duet watched them closely as they traveled. He felt restless, but assured. The Malfoy boy was in his dear one's bad thoughts and it was enough to keep the two of them apart, keeping the jealousy at bay, even though he could still feel the caring, almost longing, that Harry exuded for the blonde twit. It was tinged with something that Duet was distinctly unfamiliar with.

He had also kept a close eye on the Teliot king and was slightly annoyed about how fast the stupid beings were moving. They would catch up with the Rogues if they kept at this rate, giving him all the more twitch to break the stupid Malfoy's neck. He mightn't realize it, but Duet knew enough about human's to know that Malfoy was deliberately moving them slowly. He was unsure about whatever it was his stupid mind couldn't comprehend and lusty enough that he was reluctant to hand Harry over to the Dark Lord at Tartarus. He'd predicted this would happen. Knew that the younger Malfoy boy would prove a nuisance. And he remembered what he'd promised the Dark Lord, who, for all his unattractiveness, was someone that Duet felt wasn't a complete waste of space.

He languidly swirled into a tree nearby the Rogues campsite, watching as his pet fought with the younger male of the troop. He was quite satisfied with the progress his Harry was making. As a result, his own power was strengthening, an eventuality he had also foresaw. It also pleased him that his precious seemed to be following his orders from so long ago, no matter how subconsciously.

Duet felt a visit to the Dark Lord was in order.

Voldermort had spent another fulfilling day torturing servants and death eaters alike, trying to pass the time. 2 weeks had passed in his utter boredom and the younger Malfoy hadn't shown up. The trip from Yugi, when taking brusquely, was 2 weeks and it made Voldermort angry that his prey had not arrived on schedule, especially considering Draco Malfoy's aptitude for success and over-achievement. Duet had also made himself scarce, spying on 'his precious' obsessively and returning to fume whenever the prince did something to annoy him. He'd been in an especially fowl mood after he'd apparently ripped an earring out of Potter's ear and had proceeded to lance out in an explosion of mist, destroying the whole main chamber and turning quite a few servants into mere blood splatters on the wall. Voldermort had decided to leave them there, as they added to the décor greatly, however much Narcissa sneered at them.

So it was with an almost perkiness that he welcomed Duet's presence. The dark specter made his appearance from the shadows cast by the fire, looking pensive, with the ever present deviant blood lust shining full strong. He was wearing his customary purple boots, but had a strangely patterned blood red and amethyst colored kimono-looking robe on and his hair held back by a swath of silk.

'Why, aren't you looking pretty today,' Voldermort murmured, catching the beings attention. Duet smirked, suddenly swirling so that he was perched on the arm of Voldermort's chaise armchair, laying a perfectly pale hand on his shoulder and perching his chin on top. He pouted at Voldermort.

'You know, I've been feeling completely out of sorts lately. The last time I killed was when that impotent little wretch touched my pretty's glorious hair and that was more than a fortnight ago. I don't think I've ever gone this long without killing something violently,' Duet sighed, flopping limply over Voldermort's lap. He just smirked amusedly.

'I'm sure we could remedy that,' He sipped at his wine. Duet simpered and then abruptly disappeared, reappearing in front of him and beginning to flick his finger nonchalantly, watching in fascination as bubble's of red flicked off, floating downwards slowly and the disappearing like mini explosions of smog. He amused himself like this for a few minutes and Voldermort waited patiently. Duet was plotting, he could tell. And likely as not, it would involve getting Harry Potter away from the 'Malfoy beast'.

'Potter is closing in on the Malfoy beast,' Voldermort smirked, 'He's taking his time. I can see him running now as clear as day,' Voldermort frowned.

'You know its imperative that we get the prince here and undertake our plans quickly, before Teliot bears down on us with its full arms and allies,' He watched Duet, who idly played with a strand of black hair.

'There's something you haven't taken into consideration. How are you going to make it look like Naroch wasn't involved in the kidnapping of Harry? Malfoy being related to the royalty so closely,' Duet cracked his neck, running a glowing finger up the side of his short robes, so that a slit appeared, seams sewing themselves up the side so the edges didn't fray. Voldermort didn't speak. He had been relying on the fact that they wouldn't be able to prove any speculation. But it seemed Duet had a plan.

'I've got in mind a delicious climax for this fairy tale. A confrontation between hated brothers, a prince stolen away from his wicked kidnappers and then the uniting of two prosperous kingdoms,' Duet laughed, high-pitched and screeching. He flicked a finger and the servant's bell wrung loudly. Voldermort addressed the servant, rather than subjecting the quivering mass to Duet's ministrations.

'Have Lord Tyrnan brought here. Quickly,' He added, and the servant scurried away. The double doors swung shut behind him and Duet occupied himself with running a dark knife up and down the back of his hand, obviously enjoying the sensation of cool blood dripping off his hand. Voldermort grimaced; he himself preferred drawing others blood, but to each his own.

The door abruptly opened again and the servant stepped in. He bowed, not moving in any further than the landing.

'Lord Tyrnan, my lords,' Duet's blade was soaring through the air before he had even straightened fully, landing straight in his throat so that he gurgled wetly. The servant's body tipped sideways and a tall figure appeared in the doorway, stepping over the dying figure, careful not to get blood on his boots. He strode across the room confidently, despite the fact that the last person to enter the room had a blade protruding from his throat. He bowed lowly and Voldermort appraised the oldest Malfoy curiously for a moment, before turning his attention to Duet, who was eying Tyrnan with almost approval.

'You're not nearly so scrawny as your pestilent little brother,' he murmured, leg sliding out of the slit in his robe. Voldermort was amused when Tyrnan's eyes were instantly drawn to the pale thigh.

'I'm exceedingly encouraged to hear it,' Duet was suddenly in front of Tyrnan, who, to his credit, only shifted his gaze to Duet's eyes again.

'You know, I don't think it's going to be quite so bad working with you as I thought it would be. You'll certainly make the in-betweens warm,' Duet fluttered his eyelashes and didn't instantly cut off Tyrnan's hand as it moved to caress an errant strand of hair.

'So I will,' Voldermort suddenly found that his days weren't so boring.

A/N: I have to say, I'm surprised I haven't got calls for blood, or at least lemon, in my long absence. My only excuse is that I lose track of the time, which I don't suppose is nearly good enough. Does anyone think a lemon would be welcome in coming chapters? I don't think it'll be a Draco/Harry one per say, but that will certainly come in time.

And with regards to Duet's violent course of action, I feel great compassion and empathy for Harry. Since I wrote the last chapter I have gotten my own ears pierced in the same places as Harry. I got mine done in pretty much the same way as Harry too. Just needles straight through the ears and we're done. At the time it wasn't painful, but piercing your body is essentially the equivalent to making an open wound and then sticking a chunk of metal in to stop it from healing over completely. The wounds are usually tender and sore for the next week or two and then again if they get infected. Considering how new Harry's own piercing is, they would be quite tender. Furthermore, since having my ears done, I have to say, I am very paranoid of other people pulling on them. Whether that is a side effect to having written this, or just a natural quirk, I shall never know.

Furthermore, we still have a few chapters until I close the Mpreg poles.

As it stands:

Mpreg-Yay: 19

Mpreg-Nay: 4

Don't worry yo Nay-ers! You have heaps of time to catch up. Anyway, you can keep voting for whatever. I don't check who has and hasn't voted as I am lazy, so I guess that means you guys can vote again.

But seriously, I have millions of ideas for either so I'm really not too fussed.

Next chapter: The scene is set, what's Duet and Voldie planning and why the hell is their another OC?!