AN: I feel like I've been pretty vague about Harry's Wizarding World, and that's why I started with him rather than one of the GW characters. Plus, the way Harry handles his relationship with Draco is going to go by semi-quickly but is still very important. Thank you all who read!

I didn't want to end this chapter... XD It was fun.

Thank you reviewers! You make me happy. I almost thought there would be one reviewer. But I know there are visitors, alerts, and favorites! Why don't you drop a review? I made this chapter nearly 4, 000 words so you could say something. AND I HAD TO REWRITE BECAUSE I ACCIDENTALLY UNPLUGGED MY COMPUTER! I NEED SUPPORT. XD Gosh... I was so angry... I can't believe I unplugged it.. first time it ever happened.

fan-to-fiction: Well, this chapter is chock-full, so I'm pretty sure you'll get your answer.

Seer Vixion: I always thought he had an identity crisis, even in the book. That's why I always liked him.

Elude

Harry glowered at himself in the mirror. He existentially made it so that the weight of many lives actually rested on his reflection's shoulders. The vibrant green eyes held the worry, that forced smile, with still a touch of frown, was the reflection's. Not his. The Harry that lived and Harry's reflection were two separate entities. And that had been since Voldemort killed his parents.

The legend, as far removed as Harry felt about it though his role did play an integral part, was that Voldemort was a power-obsessed Dark Wizard. Didn't take a lot of brain cells to figure that out. His power rivalled even the best of the time, but with power came responsibility, and Voldemort thought his responsibility was to eventually rule the world with an iron fist, in the name of Purebloods and survival of the fittest and all that. He began terrorizing the world with his followers, inspiring Operation Meteor, which failed. Voldemort would have been happy if humans on Earth disappeared and cared less about those in space. Space and magic were about as inseperable as oil and water.

Then the Combining fad came along. It was rumored that those who loved each other enough, or were at least attached emotionally, or just had to have powerful magic, could capture their magic together and make it so much more powerful than before that it couldn't even be fathomed either Combine could have the power alone. What more could Voldemort do than exploit it for his own gain? That was when Voldemort Combined with all his followers to have infinite power.

Harry just couldn't imagine- all that kissing that had to go on. With Voldemort. Merlin, how insanely gross!

As aforementioned, all was thought that was needed was a powerful wizard or witch to shapen up a strong Combinementship. Not much was known about it in its first few years, as one can imagine. It was thought that the number of those unwilling to Combine to the cause of Voldemort didn't effect the magic of the others when in fact it heavily dented his magic. He didn't notice his magic getting weaker and weaker the more he added people that were against him, and hated him; so much so that the numbers of those who supported him were outweighed by those who disliked him to the marrow. When Voldemort found his power regressing, he began killing off those he didn't trust and were Combined with.

Then somehow it got out to the Muggles. Muggles were Combining together to become witches and wizards themselves, though only with the power Squibs. First it was the parents of Muggleborns, and those parents told friends who wouldn't start a riot, and those friends told people they shouldn't have told, and it got back to Voldemort, who then began killing all Combines. He wished to discourage the practice if it wasn't by him and his Death Eaters, and it worked. Kill a couple dozen pairs of Combines, and one could surely put a dent in Combining ever again.

It all ended when Voldemort went after Harry Potter's parents. James and Lily were reported to be one of the strongest Combines in the shallow history of Combinementship. And fortunately- for Harry anyway- Voldemort was weakened when he completely destroyed the links by killing his unwilling Combines. When he fought James and Lily, his magic messed up, creating a huge explosion.

This was explained over the years to Harry by Albus Dumbledore, the late former Headmaster who was killed by an enraged psychopathic seventh-year Slytherin two years or so before. Why was Harry thinking these hard thoughts now, while he looked in his reflection was anyone's guess. He did think a lot though, when he was alone.

His parents died in the explosion, while Voldemort was eventually saved by his cronies, superbly damaged by his own spell. He was told that he survived the explosion unscathed and...

Wait...

That was it! Then! That must have been when he Combined with Draco! If he was at least injured, which he was sure he was, then that would... Well, not why it was Draco..

Hagrid, ex-teacher of Care of Magical Creatures before Umbridge banned the class, would know. Dumbledore had told Harry he was the one who had pulled him out of the wreckage. With one last look at his bare forehead, he headed to Hagrid's hut.

It was such a lonesome place now, since he hadn't seen it for so long. Students were banned from going to the hut, for it was so close to the Forbidden Forest, and Umbridge generally hated Hagrid anyway. Harry knocked on the large wooden door, and Hagrid's hound began to bark.

Hagrid opened his door a crack. "Wha' is it? Ya' know Umbridge dun' want ya' here!"

"It is just some quick questions, Hagrid. Plus, I haven't seen you in a long time. How are you doing?"

The Part-Giant looked around quickly. "I'm fine! Now, go!"

Harry gave his best wounded look, which was easy because of his glasses. They made his eyes look bigger. "It's about my Combinementship and when.. You-Know-Who killed my parents."

"I'm on tha Unbreakable Vow, 'Arry," Hagrid said sheepishly, opening the door a little wider. "I coud'n tell ya' a thing."

"Are you serious? So you can't tell me what really happened to me in the explosion."

"Nope. Now, look! Someone's comin' out tha' school! Get ya' behind outta here!" Hagrid hastily closed the door but Harry wasn't mad at him; it wasn't his fault after all. But now who could tell him the truth, though he felt as if he pretty much figured it out already- except, if he was right, why would Pureblood Malfoys, surmised followers of Voldemort, Combine with an obviously Anti-Voldemort Combines' son? It didn't really matter in the long run, but Harry was dying to know.

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"Pansy, why would my parents Combine me to Harry Potter."

"We are not going to spend another Sunday talking about your failing Combinementship to Harry Potter, unless it is about you two talking, practicing magic, or having sex."

"Pansy Parkinson! I will never, ever have sex with Potter."

They were outside in the fields of Hogwarts, enjoying the last minute September air. Blaise had decided to sleep in, and Draco didn't feel like he could trust Crabbe and Goyle anymore. Anyway, they weren't around. Recently, they have disappeared too, at least, for the weekend.

"You know, as a Slytherin, you're going to have to pick a side. You-Know-Who will force you," Pansy told him, pulling bits of grass from the ground experimentally. "Personally, I will choose the side that will give me better magic and is not ruled by a power-hungry maniac."

"So you're alright with Mudbloods, Halfbloods, and Combines and all that? We got together based on our united hatred against them."

Pansy was quiet for a bit. "Now that I think about it, yes, I guess I am. Don't look at me so shocked!"

"But it's unbelievable! What if Harry's side doesn't win? You're going to get killed!"

"You know what I think? I think that if Harry's side did lose to You-Know-Who and I was on his side, all I'll have going for me is being evil."

Draco scoffed, "You never thought he was evil before."

"That was until he wanted to wipe out the human race so that Purebloods which number like, what, ten families now? I just figured out that, after realizing and accepting that I was a Combine, and meeting totally hot Combines, that hating a bunch of people will get you nowhere! Except to war. It's better to jsut accept the freakin' majority- You know they're a majority, right?"

Taken aback by her sudden emotion, Draco asked dumbly, "Who?"

"Mudbloods, Combines, Halfbloods? They're the majority."

"That's why Purebloods are better. We're a rare, pure species, like diamonds."

"Diamonds are only pretty rocks!" screamed Pansy. "The only reason such shit has meaning is because we, on some bogus term, believe to give it meaning. Remember what you said before? Nothing has meaning because anything could be anything else?"

"Then everything is meaningless! How is that going to help me decide?"

"That means you can do whatever you want to do that's not stupid!" Pansy suddenly burst out crying, and Draco was so shocked his mouth dropped open. "Do you realize how many people we will have to kill, have to make unhappy, how much we will have to sacrifice ourselves in order to help out freakin' Voldemort?"

Draco was so astounded he didn't shudder at the Dark Lord's name.

Pansy sniffed. "I'm not really saying everything is meaningless. I'm just saying that a lot of things have meaning only because we give it meaning, which initially has made it meaningless. Most people don't care about us being Pureblood. They have names for us just as we have names to those who don't care: prejudiced and Blood-Traitors, but we started it. We're getting mad at something stupid that everyone was perfectly fine about, and I'm tired of it.

"You don't have to pick Harry's side. There's a large chance You-Know-Who will win. But pick it for the right reasons; if you think he will win, then by all means live. If you're deathly afraid of him, go ahead. But that Pureblood, Combine crap, just get over it. Me, I just want to be happy, and everyone else to be happy, and that's easiest when I side with the majority. Harry Potter and his gang of goody-two shoes." She smiled, wiping her eyes. "Anyway, he's not that bad looking."

"Don't change to that weird subject," muttered Draco. "Not now."

"Not now?" Pansy repeated. "You mean 'not now' as in... maybe later?"

"Yes. I.. I don't ever want to fight you, Pansy. You're my best friend."

"Well, that's nice of you."

"I'm serious!"

"Me too."

"Oh, well... By the way you put it, it doesn't matter who wins."

"Well, it sort of does-"

"It matters why each side wants to win."

"That's mostly it," agreed Pansy.

"Then there's no reason to be on his side, and there's every reason to be on Potter's."

"Let's not be hasty and you do something you'll regret," she advised. "Let's weigh the pros and cons. First, You-Know-Who."

"Pros: get rid of the dirty races. Um, higher chance of living... And injuring Potter."

"I noticed you didn't say kill."

Draco ignored her. "Cons: get rid of most of the wizarding race. Live with the hatred of millions as he takes over the world. Live with the death of millions as he takes over the world. I might get killed on a whim. You'll get killed.. and... Fuck!"

"What?!"

"Potter will be killed! Unless I become Voldemort's Personal Suck-Up, he'll wipe out my only way of magic. He's been trying to do it for years!"

"Wow... I just noticed that. He has been trying to kill Harry, and he's been trying knowing you were his Combine."

Draco stared out into space. "Well, that pretty much rules everything out."

"No, no, let's continue. Pros of siding with Potter."

"Have the entire Ministry of Magic on my side, besides most of the Wizarding World, though they are too cowardly to face up to You-Know-Who. If this sides win, I'll be made a hero. I can return to my regular life, et cetera."

"Cons?"

"Combining with Potter... and... and... If that side loses, I'll be killed."

"Which weighs more to you, Draco? Your life or mine?"

"Yours, of course. How can I live without you?"

"Same thing Blaise said last night after I-"

"No need to go on."

"Okay, okay," she laughed. "Whose life is more important, yours or Harry's?"

Draco scowled. "We're equal. If we lose Harry, Voldemort will win, I'll be a powerless wimp, and the Gryffindors will have no one to worship. If I die...Well, I'll die."

"You can come back as a ghost."

"But I'll be dead."

"Alright, I think we got a lot accomplished today. Now, about you and Potter..."

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Inside a seventh-year Hufflepuff room, two undercover Preventer officers were vigorously making love. Atop their blanket on the stone-cold floor, the couple writhed against one another. Actually, it was more like grinding, as Quatre straddled Trowa, meeting his upward thrusts with a downward one. They had spent the better part of their Sunday morning having sex, and they were close. Their magic was so closely intertwined that their climaxes were oftener simultaneous. Lips crashed together as their orgasms finally hit, and they groaned into each other's mouths. One could feel the other's pleasure, and it was lovely.

Quatre let Trowa pull out of him and fell to his side on the blanket. Sighing in post-coital bliss, Quatre let his fingers caress the strands of Trowa's bangs, crystal green eyes shining at him in adoration. The blonde hoped his eyes mirrored the same image, and they shared another kiss, tongues twisting around one another. Quatre loved the taste of Trowa's mouth, it was like Earth- not dirt, but more like air, trees. Maybe that was accurately either. Whatever it was, you could tell Trowa was a Nymph.

On the other hand, Trowa couldn't imagine how hot it made it feel to kiss Quatre. He wanted to go at it again if it weren't for Quatre eventually becoming sore. Quatre tasted like Earth as well, but of a more dangerous one, volcanoes and fire, but he felt like silk, his hair, though a bit mussed, was soft to the touch. It broke his heart to one day bring Quatre to the Medical Ward, to find out he will have to tie Quatre up in the Shrieking Shack when the moon was full. The nurse there said he would transform into a wolf and it was best if he was there so as not to hurt anyone. They had already practiced many times on the Womping Willow, setting off its knot to calm it down, and found their way to the Shrieking Shack, a horribly haunted-looking place.

"You're not thinking about the Shrieking Shack again, are you?" Quatre asked him softly.

"Sorry."

Quatre cuddled into his arms. "It's alright. Just don't worry too much about it okay? It'll just be for a few days."

"In three days, according to Astronomy class," Trowa recalled.

"Em-hm."

"I'll miss you."

"Thank you. I just hope I don't do anything dangerous there. And remembered what you promised me, no-"

"-checking up on you, yes, I won't. I wouldn't dare risk the chance of you seeing my dead body that would have been your fault."

"Don't tease me. That would be horrible."

They both jumped as someone knocked on the door.

"Quatre? This is Becky Bimple! Could you help me, please?!"

Both were dressing quickly. They handed each other robes and wands and made their beds, but Trowa held Quatre back from opening the door.

"She's back, Trowa, and she seems to need our help," Quatre whispered.

Trowa shook his head, taking out his wand; he stood right next to the frame. "Hide behind the door as you open it."

Quatre did as he was told, and no sooner had he opened the door wide enough for a human body to fit in did Becky shout, "Stupefy!" which missed entirely, for no one was in the doorway, until Trowa appeared and shouted the same spell and knocked her unconscious.

"I really should have seen that coming," Quatre muttered. "But now, what are we going to do with her?"

"Let's call the Medical Ward, say that we found her like this."

"We should bring her downstairs."

She was a small girl, so Quatre picked her up himself and placed her on one of the couches. Then they told the next-to-the-nearest teacher (the nearest teacher was Professor Snape, and they didn't trust him) Professor McGonagall, who immediately contacted Madam Pomfrey.

"Make sure you do not tell Headmistress Umbridge about this," she told them. "But I'm sure you already knew that."

"Professor McGonagall... Do you perhaps know Lillian?" Quatre asked, suddenly curious.

"Yes, and several other teachers know as well."

"Does Snape know?"

"Professor Snape. And, no, he doesn't. But since you seem to be working with Draco Malfoy, it wouldn't hurt to tell him."

They looked at her in surprise. "How did you know that?" Trowa inquired.

"I'm particularly fond of a Slytherin with a third eye and a Gryffindor with long hair who repeatedly ask for extra time for homework," she said with a smile, something neither of them have seen before, and she began walking down the hall. "Though, however, I'm particuarly fond of a hardworking pair of Hufflepuffs as well."

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"No, Heero! Leave my wickedly, fine-looking ass alone! Professor McGonagall gave me extra time this weekend to finish this homework."

Heero hugged Duo's frame even more possessively, biting little nibbles along his flesh like a kitten lapping at milk. He was in a frisky mood, and he really wouldn't put it in his mind to let Duo go and do his essay on transfiguring several objects, some of which including a wrung towel and wheat stalks, into rope. It had been due Thursday, but somehow Duo had burst through that cold exterior to the possibly warm, or maybe just exasperated inside of McGonagall, and earned some more time. He had all Sunday to do it, and he decided to do it around noon, when Heero was horniest.

Heero said nothing, but let his hands do the talking, forcing his hands beneath his Combine's robes to fondle his surprisingly hard flesh.

"Heero! Jeez, you're worse than me bugging you when you did reports with Preventers," Duo complained, earnestly doing his work. He pulled away from those astonishingly skilled hands, so that the upper part of his body was at a weird angle from the rest of him. Heero went to the other side, but then he paused, his animalistic ears, the furry ones jutting out from his head, pointing straight upwards.

"What is it, Heero?"

The Part-feline silently searched for the Invisibility Cloak he still had, having planned to give it to Milliardo later that evening, and hid them both under it. He looked at Duo to explain.

But the Part-Banshee was rapidly disappearing! And, holding onto Heero's arm, seemed to be passing the malady onto Heero. Then, with weird Banshee magic that Duo inherently possessed, they silently Apparated to the hospital room, where Becky Bimple lied on the bed shivering in terror.

Duo felt his mouth move involuntarily. Quickly, Heero whispered a Silencing spell and hoped it worked because then Umbridge, Pomfrey, with the bland look of someone Imperiused, walking silently behind her.

Duo began to wail, but Heero stared at his open mouth, horrifying in its length, and couldn't hear it. He looked around to see Umbridge stand perfectly still, looking at Becky, while she began to scream as well.

"What is that!? What is that?! Please! Make it stop!" She covered her ears with her hands and curled up into a ball.

"It's really no fun if they go mad before I do anything," Umbridge remarked nonchalantly, taking out her wand. "Avada Kedavra." A jet of green light spurted too easily from her wand, swooshed into Becky's head where she fell into a disgruntled heap on the bed.

Umbridge turned to Pomfrey, and cast, "Obliviate," then, "Stupefy." She effectively had Pomfrey slide into a near-by seat. "Crabbe. Take Becky to my office and Floo her to our place."

Crabbe took Becky. Goyle came alongside Umbridge and asked, "How did she get here? I thought she was supposed to get those last two Hufflepuffs. She got the other ones."

"She must have been careless and let herself be seen. Those two Hufflepuffs, what were their names again?"

"Uhhh..."

"Nevermind! The one with the bang is being auctioned up for a thousand Galleons! A thousand for a not even a Half-Breed!"

"That's a lot of money," Goyle commented dumbly, stating the obvious. "But how are we going to get them?"

"Once that Gryffindor group is finished, we'll see about them cornering the Hufflepuffs. They may not recognize the missing Gryffindors." Umbridge then took a sheet of parchment and wrote on it. Goyle took out a similar piece and whatever Umbridge wrote appeared on the sheet. Heero presumed that all those who worked with Umbridge had such devices, which would explain how she contacted them all.

Soon burst through the door a small band of Gryffindors, all who had disappeared in the last week. Their faces were panicked, and they generally stood around the foremost girl, who nervously said, "They disappeared."

Umbridge sighed, taking out her wand. "What do you mean? Your explanation weighs on your life."

"One.. One moment we heard Duo yelling and when we knocked on the door, no one answered, and we got the door open and no one was in there."

"Perhaps he was in another room?" Umbridge offered sweetly, though still pointing her wand threateningly.

"We looked all over! But he disappeared. He and Heero..."

Charles of Ravenclaw and his people, and Slytherins, led by Crabbe marched into the room.

"More bad news?" Umbridge remarked sarcastically. To that no one seemed brave enough to say anything

Heero was so into the conversation that in this brief lapse into silence he realized Duo had faded to semi-consciousness, slagging onto his shoulder.

"Well! What is it?! Give me more things to be angry about!"

"Treize..." Charles began, stuttering incomprehensibly for a few moments, then continued, "He can Apparate..."

"He can what? Impossible!" Umbridge screamed. "He can hardly fly a broom for Merlin's sake!"

"But only when he thinks his Combines are in danger. We had them separated on either sides of the school, and Treize sort of... Twitched. Next thing he popped-"

The Slytherin next to him finished, "-To where we were. Just as we were about to take them down in the commonroom." This was Millicent. "And you told us not to hurt him, so we backed off. But we did ask him whose side he was on."

"What did he say?"

"The side that weren't kidnapping his Combines."

Umbridge shrieked in terror.