I'm sorry I'm confusing you guys :winces: I'm trying to clear some of it up more quickly than I'd initially planned because I don't want yall to get so confused you get disinterested in the story, because I'd die without your wonderful reviews:D


Pain may have fogged his mind but his memory was still sharp as ever. He remembered the look on that face, the face of a Greek god, carved from statue, too beautiful to touch. The look which screamed love and devotion. The look which Harry Potter had ever since cherished.

Since that day in their seventh year, when Draco had sworn his devotion to the raven haired one, Harry had kept that part of himself close. He recalled every time Draco had given him that look, and had reveled in it. It was only that look which had convinced him to give Draco the chance to become a spy against his father.

Draco had dropped to his knees before Harry, his hands clasped before him and his eyes full of that look, that look of utter devotion. "I will be your eyes, I will be your ears, I will be your hands and feet, and I will be his downfall. Let me help you, my love, and I will aid in my father's destruction."

Those two words, 'my love,' had rolled off his smooth tongue with such ease that Harry's heart had skipped. He had for so long loved the blond Slytherin from afar, yet had never moved on his intentions. He knew that what he and Draco shared was beyond lust, beyond human longing. They understood each other so profoundly that Harry did not need a sexual relationship with the blond. They were brothers, yet shared no blood, they were lovers, yet shared no intimacy, beyond briefly stolen kisses and fond caresses. They were meant to be together, forever and always, but something always seemed to damage their chances. First the First Dark Lord, then the rebuilding of the world from his destruction. The pair had been closer than ever, then, when they had worked side by side to build the world, together, for the future of the wizarding world. And then Draco's father had risen, the Second Dark Lord, and everything had shattered.

Draco had been forced to pledge himself to his father, his lord, and Harry had pledged to kill all involved with the Second Dark Lord. He had pressed his love for the blond onto the back burner, ignored the pain that threatened to swell inside him when he heard of the blond joining his father. Then, so much later, Draco had reappeared, wandless and at Harry's mercy, begging to rejoin his lover's ranks. And Harry had eagerly complied, instantly accepting the man he loved back into his fold, against the objections of his people. He had stood by his love when they had ridiculed him, and he had sworn his protection.

Then had come the time that Harry desperately needed to disappear from Lucius Malfoy's radar. He had picked the least obvious person in the world to hold the key to his whereabouts, and had not hesitated to allow Draco to swear the oath. He knew that the ways of Secret-Keeping had long since evolved, until the power of the oath was so strong that the Secret-Keeper simply could not disclose the location of the one he hid, on pain of instant death. Yet he had faith that his love would not even try to betray him. After all they had been through together, there was no doubt that he held Draco's dedication.

When, three weeks later, the headquarters were raided with Harry among those captured, everyone involved instantly blamed the Slytherin. Yet Harry had still, even then, defended his Draco, insisting that there just had to be some other explanation. Until the last moment, so long after they had begun torturing his friends, his family, his life, when Draco strode in to deliver the killing blows. Then while Snape had writhed from the pain of the curses placed upon him, Lucius had ordered Draco to cut out the elder's lying tongue, and Draco had complied with gusto.

In those two weeks during which he had watched his love torture and kill everything Good, Harry had learned to hate.