Author's Note: My turn again. Thanks to Laurel for her beta work and our loyal readers for their reviews. In effort to counter the fact that it's been ages since we've updated, Laurel and I have decided to give you the final chapters back to back until the story is done.

It was bliss.

I, Draco Malfoy, son of the most feared Death Eater, was now officially engaged to Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived. I barely restrained myself from leaping up and down at the very thought of spending the rest of my life – however short that might be – with this messy-haired boy that I adored.

Hand-in-hand I was on the way to deliver Harry to his second class of the day, as we'd missed Defense, though I was loath to part with him yet. Still, with the Charms classroom only two floors away, I had even less time with him than I'd anticipated.

All I heard to indicate that Harry and I were in a world of trouble, thus ending our current joy, was the telltale clicking of heels on the stone floor. Professor McGonagall descended on us like a Dementor, crossing her arms and plying us both with a stern glance. "Mr. Potter, might I have a word with you in my office?" she asked, but it was clear that Harry wasn't allowed to say 'no'. Left with no choice he nodded dutifully, shooting me an apologetic glance. I didn't really understand what he was sorry for until I turned around and saw Severus standing behind me with a sneer plastered on his face.

"Malfoy," he hissed in greeting and immediately turned to stride purposefully away, a wordless indication that I should follow him. I did, marching through the school at a quick pace to match that of my godfather.

The moment we were secure in his dungeon office, the door locked behind us and rounded on me. "Have the Slytherins taught you nothing, Draco?" he asked, clearly livid.

"You mean aside from how to grin and bear it as they tear your life apart?" I bit back. I closed my eyes, unwilling to watch as my only ally shifted sides on me.

"Discretion, Draco. It's key when dealing with situations such as these. Do you think that the Dark Lord is blind to what happens within these walls?" Snape hissed.

"Of course not," I replied. "I'm not an imbecile."

"Then stop acting like one," Snape snarled. "Ever since you've taken up with Potter, you seem to have lost yourself. You're acting like an ignorant Gryffindor and you're taking unnecessary chances with your life."

I stiffened, wondering what exactly the man was referring to. Could he have known about my trip to the Manor? Or was he just referring to my dalliances with Harry and how distracted they had made me? "I've only taken calculated risks," I told him, only being partially honest. I knew that my trip to the Manor was certainly risky, what with the Dark Lord hovering everywhere at once, but worse, I knew what I was doing with Harry was far more dangerous and the consequences unknown. But I wouldn't give it a second's thought. I loved Harry and I would pay whatever penalty that bore.

"You call this morning's display a calculated risk?" he asked incredulously.

"Well, of course not, but I can hardly be blamed for my impulsive Gryffindor's behavior," I denounced. "I would have preferred he ask me quietly rather than make a bloody spectacle, but you know Harry. He's the center of attention no matter what he does," I added, a wry smile on my lips as I thought of my beautiful idiot Harry on his knees. What a mess he'd made of things, still I couldn't help but encourage him when his antics made me feel so warm and wanted.

"I wish he hadn't done it at all," Snape grumbled. "Do you realize how difficult – no, nigh impossible - it will be to hide this from the Dark Lord?"

I steeled myself as the truth of those words flooded over me. I'd known of course, that it would only be a matter of time before this all came up, but I had hoped to bask in the light of our newly formed bond for a bit longer than this. "I'm aware," I told him firmly. "But I don't care. He'll be dead before he gets to hear of it."

"Pardon?" he asked, his face growing paler than usual as he struggled to make sense of my words.

"I intend to kill him," I explained. "Tonight."

"And how do you expect to do that when he's all the way at Malfoy Manor and you're here?" Snape hissed. He was clearly terrified, though I wasn't sure if his fear was for himself or me. I held up my right hand, showing the rich bauble that graced my middle finger. He recognized it and retreated a few steps. "Where did you get that?"

"Father," I replied. "Though I daresay he never intended me to use it in the way I've planned."

"And how is that?" my godfather asked.

"I've used it once before to sneak into my family home. The wards don't even so much as shiver because they know me. I'm to meet mother tonight, and she'll show me where Voldemort sleeps. I'll slay him as he dreams about killing my fiancé."

"You're taking on too much, Draco. You're just a boy," Snape said. I could feel the fury coming off of him in waves, which merely proved how afraid he was. "And it's not your responsibility."

"I'll be of age in a few months and Harry's done more than this at a younger age. Killing a man in his sleep is not such a brave thing after all," I muttered. I didn't like hearing the fear in my godfather's voice, but I refused to change my mind. Now more than ever I needed the monster dead. For me, for Harry, for us. We'd never have a moment of rest while his threatening presence continued to loom over us.

"Be reasonable," Snape ordered, now seething mad. "You are not Harry Potter. You are not the Chosen One! What makes you think this little plan of yours will even work? It's Potter who is destined to kill him, not you!"

"I have to try. If I don't and something happens to Harry…." My voice trailed away, choking in my throat. I wouldn't even consider the consequences of my failing at this. I couldn't allow Harry to flaunt his beautiful neck in battle with that madman. Harry dying was one risk I was unwilling to take. "I love him."

An exasperated sigh was all that met my ears for a long while, but eventually Snape nodded solemnly and narrowed his eyes. "Fine. If you insist on going through with this fool's errand you'll require my assistance."

"I don't need-" I began to protest, but Snape waved me off as if I hadn't spoken at all and leveled me with such a glare I knew better than to argue with.

"You'll need a way to kill him. Have you thought of how you'll do it?" he asked.

I shook my head, feeling embarrassed for the first time. "Not really. I thought of the cutting curse you taught me last year."

"Too slow," Snape murmured. "It's decisive, but he'll have too much time to kill you while he bleeds out."

"As long as it keeps Harry safe," I began, but I found myself on the receiving end of yet another glare, this one holding more malice than the last.

"And how do you think Potter will be if you disappear on him? How distraught will he be when we find you dead because you were too stupid to think things out?" he asked, his voice quiet and calm, which was far scarier than any other tone he used.

Yes, Harry would be broken for some time, but he would move on, wouldn't he? If the positions were reversed, could I have moved on? No. "Fine," I said at last. "What do you suggest then?"

"Not now," he replied. "Tonight, you'll meet me in my classroom for detention, directly after supper. We'll discuss it then."

I sighed and nodded, knowing I was in no position to argue. "You'll keep this a secret, right?"

Severus simply sneered at me and rolled his eyes. "Unlike you, I have not forgotten my role as Slytherin and spy. Do try and be more sensible over the next few hours."

"I'll do my best," I assured him, and as I turned away, I heard him mutter, 'Salazar save us,' under his breath before I hurried on to my next class.

My eyes couldn't tear away from the spot by the Great Hall where Harry had knelt before me and asked for my hand in marriage. It was only when I spotted Harry coming my way, his eyes rooted to the same place, that the truth of my godfather's words came rushing in. I was turning into a mushy Gryffindor, turning my back on everything I had been before.

I needed to stop it before it was too late.

Harry walked over and kissed me chastely. "Hey," he greeted, and I smirked at his general ineloquence. I loved that Harry didn't always know exactly what to say, or the proper way to convey his feelings, but 'hey' was enough for me, especially when he whispered it against the shell of my ear that way.

"Hey," I whispered back, smirking ever so slightly. "I keep looking at that spot too," I told him, making it very clear that he wasn't alone in his revere. "Doesn't quite feel real, does it?" He smiled and blushed and I wanted to kiss him all over again, but that wasn't very Slytherin of me. "So, detention?" I asked instead.

"Nah," he replied, making me smile with another one of his rushed, nonsensical words. "She took a few house points because I'd broken the rules, but mostly she wanted to make sure I wasn't completely out of my mind."

Remembering my own conversation, I could almost predict how Harry's went earlier. I could hear McGonagall's shrewd voice asking what an upstanding young man like Harry thought he was doing with a ruddy Death Eater like myself. I wondered if there would ever come a time where Harry and I would be accepted by the masses, or if it would just be one battle after the next.

"Yeah, I'll bet she did," I scoffed, trying and failing to keep the bitterness from my tone. All too quickly Harry had soothed me into calm as his fingertips trailed along my arm to grip my hand. Suddenly I didn't care how many wars we had to fight. Harry and I would be happy together, even if it took us our whole lives to get there.

"I told her I was out of my mind in love with you," he said, "and that I wouldn't have it any other way."

I couldn't stifle my laughter, my entire body warming at his sappy words. Why did I love him so completely? He was so much the opposite of me in every fathomable way, but he just seemed to have attached himself to my heart and never let go. "That's so incredibly saccharine, Harry," I quipped, though my grin never melted, even as Snape's words echoed through my head.

"And you love it," he purred into his ear once more, and my shiver made him smile. "What about you then? Did you cop a detention?" he asked me at last.

I merely shrugged, not really wanting to get into the details. I knew it was wrong to keep things from Harry, but I couldn't tell him, I knew that he would try to stop me if he knew what I was up to. "Sort of," I replied cryptically, but he looked at me with such curiosity that I knew I wouldn't be allowed to leave it at that. "Officially, yes, but unofficially Severus will tutor me in advanced potions. He lets me help with whatever he's working on, whereas you, I'd imagine, would have had to scrub out all the cauldrons without your wand," I explained, trying to tease him and distract Harry from the real subject. I hated lying to him, and I vowed to make Snape tutor me in whatever he was working on so that my story wouldn't be completely false. I was already undeserving as it was. I shouldn't compound that with lies.

"Yeah, I've done that before!" he laughed, slipping his arm around my waist as we graced the Great Hall with our presence. "That's completely unfair you know," he complained. "I always knew he favored you."

I was about to point out that he was my godfather, and favored me about as much as Dumbledore favored him, but I was sidetracked as I watched every head in the hall turn to watch us. The word 'discretion' repeated in Snape's voice rang through my mind, but that seemed well beyond possible now. Surely everyone had heard of Harry's proposal, and our current behaviour would indicate to even the dullest student than I had said yes.

Granger and Weasley ripped the news from Harry's lips easily enough, not that I was eager to keep our relationship a secret, I only wished I could have held onto him a bit longer. It seemed Harry's old friends had found their way back into his good graces, and I suspected it was only a matter of time before they took precedence over me. I wasn't capable of begrudging him anything that made him happy though, especially when he might need to thoroughly lean on them if my plan went awry.

I shook my head and tried not to think about that. I wouldn't fail Harry. I couldn't. Instead, I tried to focus on the conversation, piping in occasionally to disparage Weasley's dress robes and whatnot, but my heart just wasn't in it. My blissful excitement at being engaged to Harry had been lost in Snape's logical obsidian gaze. He reminded me of my duties and now I was unable to forget.

As the door to the Potions classroom shut behind me, I let out a heavy sigh. Harry had been so eager to be with me, to make love to me, and as much as I wanted to oblige, I knew I couldn't tonight. I had too much to do, too many obstacles ahead of me still.

"Well, are you coming in or are you just going to stand by the door all evening?" Snape muttered, not even looking up from his parchment rolls.

"How are we going to kill him?" I asked, not in the mood for preamble. I could have been in my room snogging Harry senseless, but instead I was down here in the dank dungeons with my godfather. I was damned well going to make sure this meeting was productive.

Snape looked up at my question, his eyebrow cocked as he surveyed me. "You'll have to use an Unforgivable," he replied at last.

"All your wisdom and cunning for that? Avada him? I could have come up with that on my own," I hissed, ready to turn and leave.

"But you didn't," Snape replied.

"I did actually," I bit back, "but I don't think…."

My voice trailed off again as I was unable to finish the sentence, but it didn't matter; Snape finished it for me. "You don't think you'll be able," he said and I nodded, feeling weakness flood my body. Snape was at my side a moment later; his voice smoother than I'd ever heard it. "There's nothing wrong with that, Draco," he sighed. "I'm sure that part of what attracts Potter to you is that he senses how incapable you are of hurting another person with more than petty words."

I shrugged. Perhaps that were true, but Harry wasn't here for me to ask. "I want him dead so badly, I just don't think the incantation will work for me and it's not as if I'll get a second try. I've struggled with all of the Unforgivables; it was part of the reason why Father had punished me over the summer. I couldn't even master the Cruciatus."

"I know," he replied.

"So, what am I supposed to do? Bludgeon him over the head with a candlestick?" I hissed. I didn't want to play these mind games - not tonight. I should have been leaving for the Manor soon. I didn't have time for this.

"Well, as ironic as it would be for the Dark Lord to be felled without the use of magic, I daresay he would fillet you before you got the opportunity to sneak up on him. Even in sleep, the Dark Lord is vigilant," Snape replied.

"I assume he'll have a contingency of guards," I muttered, but surprisingly Snape shook his head.

"No, quite the opposite. He doesn't trust mere mortals to guard him, he only uses magic to protect him as he slumbers, which is his Achilles heel. His magic is powerful, but not infallible," Snape informed me.

"So then what? How do I get around wards like that without him noticing?" I asked, getting slightly frustrated.

"With this," Snape said, holding up a thin vial of purple liquid. "This will make you invisible to more than just eyes. It will make you invisible to magic as well. Untouchable," he whispered, almost reverently. I suppose I would too if I were him. This was clearly a pet project of his, a favorite concoction that he'd brewed, and I was honored that he'd shared it with me despite my annoyance at his cryptic behavior. "You only need a sip."

"You're sure it works?" I asked, and Snape leveled me with a snarky gaze.

"Of course," he huffed, unimpressed with my questioning him.

I held up my hands in mild defense, but I was unable to wipe the grin from my face. "I had to ask," I informed him and he seemed to understand. "Can I have it now so that I can get this over with?"

Snape handed the vial over and stared at me, his fingers lingering on the glass for longer than necessary. "Are you sure about this? Is Potter truly worth your life?" he asked.

"Yes," I answered without hesitation before reciting the incantation that would take me home. The potions classroom bent and shifted around me, the colors morphing from deep grays and black to that of rich wood and ornate rugs.

Once again I found myself in Father's study, and this time I was armed. I downed a portion of the potion and immediately felt the buzz of magic tingle through me. It took longer than I'd anticipated adapting to the feeling of being invisible because I couldn't even see myself. I could get a general feeling of where my foot was stepping, but twice I nearly twisted my ankle trying to navigate my way around. It must have taken me ten goes to find and turn the door handle.

This was never going to work.

I took a deep breath and concentrated. The longer I moved about, the more used to the sensation I became, and before long I was moving about the Manor as if I owned the place - which I sort of did. When I came to the wing Mother had informed me was Voldemort's quarters, I slipped past the wards with no problem.

But I quickly realized that might be because there weren't any wards active.

Voldemort wasn't there, and after lingering in the corridor, I overheard someone mention that he was personally overseeing a raid and that he probably wouldn't be back until morning – long after the potion would likely wear off. I couldn't just stand there waiting, but I was loathe to return to Hogwarts a failure.

Cursing, I did the only thing left to me. I Apparated back to Hogwarts, finding it far easier to sneak in than last time. I went to bed that night, still invisible, and wishing that Harry was curled up next to me. I had wasted a night that could have been spent in his arms. Maybe Severus was right, maybe there was someone else better suited to this task; I wondered briefly if everyone was right and it was supposed to be Harry. I shivered at the possibility. Whether the rumors were true or not it still felt like we were running out of time and I certainly wanted to spend as many minutes with my beautiful Gryffindor as I could. Every second we had left together.

Panic shot through me as I woke up the next morning still under the effects of the potion. Harry was supposed to be there any moment and what would he think if he found me invisible? Remembering that I had told my boyfriend to just waltz right in, I began to worry what would happen when he did and couldn't find me in my room. I'd have to tell Snape off for this later. A warning about how long the effects would last would have been nice.

I dressed awkwardly and brushed my teeth - again, awkwardly - and eventually gave up on the hoping the potion would wear off. I thought that I would have to come clean to Harry and tell him what I'd been up to, but then I felt an odd tingle in my fingertips and stared down at them, watching my body slowly return to normal. When I could clearly see my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I checked to make sure my robes weren't on backwards and flew out the door, nearly running into Harry in my haste.

"Good morning," I whispered. "What are you doing waiting out here? I told you to just come in."

"I would have if your damned portrait would have let me!" he huffed, and I smothered him in a relieved hug. Perhaps the magic hadn't allowed Harry to enter because it didn't think I was there. It seemed Snape's potion worked brilliantly, perhaps too brilliantly.

I wound myself around Harry, happy that I could snog him openly and not care who spotted us. He leaned into me with a soft sigh and I felt my pulse race as he wobbled with the effort to stand upright as I let him go. "I love how you react to me," I sighed, smiling wider at his blush.

"Oh shut up," he replied petulantly. "You feel the same way about me, admit it!"

"That I do," I replied, thinking of all the ways I could prove it. "Let's go back in my room and I'll show you exactly how I feel about you."

"You know we can't," he reminded me as he completely unwound from our embrace. "We've already gotten into trouble for skipping class, besides I'll be able to stay with you all night tonight and we can take all the time we need."

"All night?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow as I took his hand and led him toward the Great Hall. "Sounds like I'm going to need to conserve my energy today."

Visions of what 'all night' might entail twisted through my brain, making me feel both aroused and thoroughly guilty. I suspected from Harry's words the night before what he wanted from me, but I wasn't sure the timing was right. I didn't feel like I could take something so precious from him with the Voldemort situation still looming over us. I hadn't been entirely honest with him and I knew it was wrong to make love to him until I could be forthright.

When I saw Harry's gaze flick over to the Ravenclaw table, landing easily on his ex, Michael Corner, I began to wonder if I was the only one keeping secrets. I could see Harry's face grow pinched and pained as he spied his ex boyfriend still looking thoroughly dejected. Another boy, Henderson if memory served, grabbed Corner's hand and glared at Harry as if to challenge him, but the challenge went unmet…for the moment.

"I see your ex has a new boyfriend," I remarked, as casually as possible, but I knew my own hand was probably squeezing Harry's just as possessively as the Ravenclaws were clinging together.

"Yeah, it looks like it," he replied, looking to me instead. "I'm glad he does. I hope his new boyfriend will be able to make him as happy as you make me, the way I never could have."

I nodded, pleased with Harry's quick and decisive answer. When would my surges of jealousy fade away? One would think that being engaged would help with that, but it hadn't. Now more than ever I felt terrified of losing Harry; to Voldemort, death, another boy, it didn't really matter what it was that took him away from me, I would fight it all. "Looks like we're still big news," I observed, changing the subject to something more appealing – us.

"Yeah, you'd think people would be over it by now," Harry muttered as once again, we sat with Granger and Weasley. I supposed if this kept up I'd have to start calling them by their given names, but that still felt too wrong in my mouth, so I stuck to what felt comfortable.

"Yes, well, I expect it will continue unless you learn to be a bit more discrete, Harry," Granger chirped in a very stern manner. I wondered if she'd be pleased to know how closely her lecture mirrored my godfather's, or if she'd be disturbed by that fact.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, playing dumb. It was amusing how often he used that tactic and even more surprising how often it worked. Even I'd been a victim of Harry's 'I'm completely innocent' grin, but I could spot it in a heartbeat now. Apparently Granger could to, because she didn't humor him with an explanation, she simply tossed him the Daily Prophet.

"Holy shit," Harry breathed and I immediately leaned over his shoulder to see a picture of Harry on his knees in front of me. Now normally I might covet a picture like this, especially if we were both sans robes, but not on the cover of the Daily Prophet, and not when it was bound to find a way into Voldemort's lap. How had the news spread to the Prophet already? I assumed I would have gotten a visit from Mother if she'd known about our engagement and surely she would learn of it before the famous wizarding paper?

Clearly Mother was slipping.

I tried to breathe regularly as the full extent of what could mean settled over me. I had to kill Voldemort right away. I couldn't waste any more time. Now that he was aware of my relationship with Harry, he would stop at nothing to murder us both. The Dark Mark on my forearm hissed to life, burning my flesh with ferocious intent, but I did my best to ignore it. "Oh fuck," I gasped out, realizing that meant the Dark Lord was trying to summon me.

I resisted. I wasn't his dog; I didn't heel when he ordered it.

Only vaguely I read the article, seeing that they were playing up Harry's poor orphan status as the reason he wanted to marry me as if a Malfoy weren't clever enough to see through a ploy like that. It was slander and nothing more; Harry had never once brought up the subject of money with me. Not to mention, it was my parents' fortune, not mine; if I married without their consent I wouldn't see a Knut of it myself. And even if I was blinded by Harry's good looks and charm, there was no way the Gryffindor would be able to fool my family.

It wasn't until I saw the name gracing the article that I realized what had happened. Rosette Greenhaven was a ladder obliterating social climber whose family had been vying for my hand since birth. They hadn't been the only ones of course, but Father had held firm, refusing to make a contract until I was closer to age. He was always thorough with his research and refused to make a hasty business transaction, and the person I married would be just that to him - an opportunity. I was sure the only reason he'd agreed to Mother's petition that I be allowed to marry Harry was because Father could see the sense in such a match.

Despite being an orphan, Harry's blood was mostly pure, and his fame and power would get him further than a rich vault ever would have. It didn't matter to me though what reasons my father had decided on to allow our contract, just that he had. I loved Harry for his humor, his kind heart and his delectable arse. I couldn't care less about the rest.

What I did care about, however, was the fact that Rosette might have sealed my death with her jabbering mouth. "I'm going to kill her," I hissed. "Stupid bitch! I've never liked her; she's just pissed that it won't be her marrying into my vault!"

"What?" he gasped, glancing away from the paper and into my seething face. "You know her?"

"Yeah, her family has been trying to worm their way into my father's good books for years, always pushing their daughter – this Rosette girl – on to me," I growled, scanning the room for her younger sister, Emily. She was a Seventh year Ravenclaw, so I was certain that was exactly where the photo and quotes had originated. "She's like four years older than me, but she has siblings still at Hogwarts, I bet it was one of them who gave her the picture."

"It's alright, Baby," he sighed, rubbing my legs and successfully bringing my thoughts to something more enjoyable. "It's not like we were really able to keep it a secret anyway. Stupidly, I didn't even think about who was around, I was just so desperate for you to stop and listen to me. I'm so sorry, I should have waited until it was just us, or I should have just said yes when you asked me the first time."

I hadn't meant to make him feel guilty. I was embarrassed by his display, but I didn't love him any less for it. If nothing else, I loved him more. He hated being the center of attention, yet he'd been willing to fall down on his knees and propose to me. I'm only happy I didn't answer him in the middle of everyone too, or who knows what the paper would have said this morning. "You're right, there's nothing we could have done about it," I assured him. "It doesn't matter anyway, I don't care who knows! I'm just angry that she could suggest you were trying to exploit me for my money."

He leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to my lips and grinned. "I'm actually rather rich myself," he informed me, as if discussing the quality of the weather.

"Are you?" I asked, mildly surprised. I'd assumed the Potter name had come with a large vault, but I had no idea how much of that Harry would see with his parents passed away so many years before he even knew he was a wizard.

"I have two inheritances to my name," he informed me, and I wondered what the second was, but he was already diving into his breakfast as if he hadn't uttered a word. Besides, I thought it would be rather rude to ask in light of the recent article. Perhaps Harry would tell me one day who else thought of him as a son.

"Well, I'll be expecting a nice ring then," I mentioned instead, playing at serious but falling quite short.

"How about I get you one of those sweet rings from Honeydukes that changes flavour according to your mood?" he asked, grinning at me widely.

The table's other occupants joined in Harry's mirth and I mentioned that he'd be looking at an instant divorce if he even so much as tried to pawn off a candy ring as my engagement ring.

I was trying to ignore the fact that Harry ate like a starving buffoon, a trait I no doubt had Weasley to blame for, when I noticed something off at the Slytherin table.

"Harry," I asked, "where's Pansy gone?"

"Wha?" he asked around a mouth full of food. I resisted the urge to lecture him on manners, but just barely. I wouldn't embarrass him in front of his friends, but I was going to have to have a talk with him about etiquette before we dined with my parents. I shuddered to think of Mother's reaction if Harry were to try and talk to her with his mouth filled with beans. "I dunno," he replied, thankfully swallowing his bite. He turned to Hermione, an odd choice I thought, but she weren't lifted her eyebrows in innocent question at his glare. "Hermione?"

"Hmm?" she answered, batting her eyelashes demurely, or what I suspected she intended to be demure.

"Have you heard anything about Pansy Parkinson?" Harry asked, and even I found myself leaning forward to hear her answer.

"That Slytherin girl?" she mused. "Hmm, well, I'm not certain, but I did hear some gossip in the girls' room yesterday. Apparently she's been struck down by some terrible, disfiguring illness, and she's had to be sent away from Hogwarts to be home tutored. It's not contagious, so I can't imagine how she must have gotten it, but apparently she looks just awful. Someone said it might have been a potion she didn't brew quite right. I do always say how important it is that you study to make sure you know what you're doing!"

"Yes, Hermione," Harry replied, his voice a bit detached, "you do always say that."

I swallowed thickly at her reply, a hum of approval zipping through me, closely chased by unexpected wariness. I let the subject drop, but immediately started to resize the petite girl across from me. Perhaps she was worthy of Harry after all.

My body had never felt so relaxed before. I felt like I was floating on a cloud. Making love to Harry, feeling his body spasm around me, hearing his throat make delicious sounds of pleasure and even the heady scent of sex that filled the air had me buzzing. Harry had felt amazing. I'd fucked some of the caddy Slytherin girls before, but it had never felt like that. In fact, had I known how wonderful it felt to bury myself into Harry's yearning body I wouldn't have been so resistant at the start.

It took me a while to wrap my mind around what needed to be done, but the moment he gave himself to me, all of my duties were washed away. I suddenly realized that I couldn't keep lying to Harry and I couldn't keep up this mission. Someone else would have to murder that monster because I belonged right here in Harry's warm embrace.

My erection felt odd as it softened, still inside of Harry's perfect arse, so I shifted, pulling out and spooning up against him instead. "That was incredible," he sighed, turning enough to watch me catch my breath. I don't know what I said in reply because my mind was still lethargic with the feeling of complete relaxation that he'd left me with. I pulled him against me, nuzzling his soft, ebony locks. I silently noted that I needed to research stamina potions so that I could have this over and over without needing a nap in between.

"Draco," Harry murmured, pulling me out of my quiet thoughts. "When is the next Hogsmeade weekend?"

"Huh?" I asked sleepily. "Um, dunno. Not this weekend, maybe the one after. Why?" I added, unable to stifle a yawn.

"I want to buy you a ring," he replied firmly.

"Stop it," I grumbled. "I wish I'd never said anything about it now." I didn't need a ring, it wasn't a tradition in pureblood marriages anyhow, not until the wedding at least.

"No, seriously, I really want to go ring shopping," he insisted, shaking me awake. "We could both get one."

"Yeah, okay," I agreed, hoping the answer would appease him enough to just cuddle up and fall asleep with me. I was in no mood to argue about a ring.

"Are you still awake?" he whispered after a long silence when I must have dozed off. I don't think my answer was articulated very well, but Harry continued anyway. "Draco, I don't want to wait," he said. "Let's get married right away."

I propped myself up on my elbows, the weight of Harry's words dispelling any thoughts of sleep. "What?" I asked him, full of confusion and concern. Where was this coming from? We were still young; we had plenty of time to enjoy a proper engagement. There was no need to rush into anything. "Harry – we – you have to – we have to be of age first."

"I'll turn seventeen at the end of July, we can get married this summer in August," he replied, and I knew then what he was after. Had Harry just agreed to marry me because he didn't think he'd live long enough to tire of me? I had every intention of having bitter arguments with him well into our eleventies. I could easily picture me having to lecture Harry for trying to have a conversation without his dentures, or what that innocent Gryffindor expression would look like from under a long, silver beard. "Look, I know that your mum wants me to kill Voldemort first," he continued, and his next words confirmed my suspicions, "but we don't know how far away that is, and well, what if-" his silence was all I needed. I grabbed his shoulders, pulling him against me and clung to him for dear life.

"You aren't going to die!" I nearly shouted. I wouldn't let him take away the life we deserved together.

"Okay," he sighed. "I know, but really anything could happen."

I wondered if Harry even knew how powerful his words were, and just as quickly as I had dispelled the idea of killing Voldemort myself, Harry's fear and distrust in his own mortality brought my determination to rid Harry's life of this monster flaring back. I had to do this - for him, for me, for our future together. Fuck the rest of the wizarding world, I didn't care that it would save them as well; selfishly, I just wanted to hold onto this feeling with Harry.

"Nothing is going to happen right now in any case," I replied solemnly. "Just go to sleep, alright?"

Harry nodded, and snuggled into the covers, running his fingers up and down my side. "I love you, Draco," he whispered and I let myself melt into him.

"I love you too, Harry," I assured him before I heard his breathing level and soften, indicating he was already asleep. "That's why I have to do this. I hope you'll understand and forgive me."

He made a quiet noise in his sleep and buried his face in the nape of my neck. When I was sure he was sound asleep, I carefully disentangled myself from his grasp and slipped out of bed. Quietly pulling on my clothes and school robes, I watched Harry sleeping peacefully. Part of me craved to get back in bed with him, smother him in kisses and bury myself inside of him again. I knew though, that if I wanted Harry's sweet face to remain peaceful, that I had to leave him now.

Voldemort was surely asleep and undefended by now, and I had already tested the potion, so I was certain it would work. All I had to do was sneak in and slit the man's throat – for he was just a man after all, even if he was a madman.

I pocketed the remainder of Snape's potion; easily two more doses, maybe even three, and took one last lingering look at my boyfriend, my fiancé, my lover. Harry's arms were twisted around the pillow as if he thought it was me, occasionally nuzzling the green fabric and murmuring unintelligible things in his sleep. His black hair was splayed across the pillow, a lock or two falling into his face, and I couldn't help but reach down and brush my knuckles against his soft cheeks, pushing the hair out of his eyes. My mistake, apparently, was leaning in for a kiss, which I placed soft and sweet against his parted lips.

The kiss itself wasn't a mistake, but it was the only explanation for what happened next. I stood at the end of the bed, turning my ring as I recited the incantation that would take me to the Manor. Just as the magic took me, turning the ring into a powerful Portkey, Harry woke up and cried out my name before leaping out of bed and grabbing my arm.

The familiarity of my father's study surrounded me, but, alarmingly, the unexpected presence of Harry followed me as well. I quickly grabbed him, holding him close so he wouldn't fall as I scanned the room for anyone who might have seen out entrance. "What are you doing?" I hissed at him as I checked every dark corner.

"What are you doing?" he snapped back angrily. "Where the hell are we?"

"You shouldn't be here, Harry," I whispered, finishing my examination of the room before turning my attention to my bold little Gryffindor. "You should go back to – Oh my God, Harry you're naked!"

He didn't even blush, but merely put his hands on his hips as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "Yes, well, you should be naked too, Draco," he replied, his voice betraying the fear and confusion he felt even if his actions didn't. "You should be with me in your bed back at Hogwarts! What are you doing here?"

I opened my mouth to reply, but instantly paused when I heard a noise coming from the other side of the door. "Salazar save us," I breathed, frantic with fear.

Someone was coming in.

Without any further hesitation, I threw my robes over Harry's naked body, refusing to allow my gaze to linger over the smooth lines and muscular curves I found there. I rummaged in the pocket, ignoring the glare he shot me that clearly said he didn't think that now was the best time to be getting fresh, but he blushed mildly when I pulled out the potion vial and handed it to him.

"Do you trust me?" I asked and instead of answering with words, he upended the potion into his mouth, drinking it all before I could stop him. "Fuck!" I hissed, but it was too late. Harry was already fading from my sight and there was no potion left for me. "I suppose it's good that you trust me, Harry, but dammit, you weren't supposed to drink it all."

"Sorry," I heard from somewhere nearby. "This is weird."

The noise at the other side of the door grew louder and I heard a key slip into the lock. I hissed for Harry to be silent and readied myself for whoever was about to walk in on me. When I saw the long, blond tresses of my father, I relaxed. Slightly.

"I thought I felt the wards go off in here," he mentioned silkily as he shut the door behind him and just stood there staring at me as if he'd never had the opportunity before. "I assume you're here because of the article this morning?"

Lucius' eyebrows were quirked delicately, making it clear that it was my turn to explain myself. "Exactly," I lied. "I knew you and mother would be furious for not hearing about it from me first, so I thought I would try to smooth things over."

"How very gracious of you," he replied, sounding as though he thought the opposite. "It was unwise of you to come here, Draco."

"I understand," I replied, bowing my head. "I wish only to do my duty as a Malfoy."

"And do you think that fucking a mudblood Gryffindor is doing your duty?" he hissed. Panic laced through my veins as I took in the full extent of my father; face drawn, silver eyes flaring, fingers balled up into tight fists – Lucius was livid.

"But Mother-" I began, but was quickly silenced with a sharp slap across my face. I fell to my knees from the blow and only barely staunched the cry that lingered just inside my lips, begging to be released.

"Silence!" he shouted. "Narcissa is not the head of this family. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Father," I replied, letting my head sink into another bow.

"She spent some time convincing me that a marriage between you and Potter would be most beneficial to our family, but that was before our Lord saw the image of you two together in this morning's paper. He could tell by the look in your eyes that you had switched loyalties, which as you know, is punishable by death," Lucius snarled.

My breath came in quick gasps and I felt extremely vulnerable as I realized my fate was at my father's mercy. Would he spare me, or leave me to Voldemort? Or would it be something in between? I didn't dare look up at him, into those cold, terrifying eyes.

"My only son," he sighed, almost sounding soft, but that shifted so quickly I wondered if I'd imagined it. "How could you betray me this way? How could you choose this boy who has soiled blood and who carries the mark of our Lord's enemy? You owe me an answer for this, Draco. You owe me an explanation as to why you're abandoning your family for this…Gryffindor," he hissed, spitting the name like it was poison on his tongue.

"I love him," I answered at last, my courage returning to me as I defended Harry, my Love. "And Tom Riddle is not my lord any longer."

I looked up then, in time to see Lucius' eyes widen, just in time to see the hex he threw at me before it hit me in the chest. This time I couldn't stop the scream, as pain laced through my body and all too soon my muscles reacted to the Cruciatus. "You know it is forbidden to speak that name. You know it is forbidden to lie with some one of impure blood, and you know it is forbidden to defy your own father, yet you do all these things without remorse."

"I love him," I repeated, this time in a choked cry. "I love him more than I love you."

The spell cut short and my body felt impossibly limp and tense all at once as the muscles spasmodically clenched and released. "I hope you love him more than your own precious neck," Lucius hissed, grabbing my collar and hoisting me into the air. "Because that is what this dalliance had cost you."

With that, my father pulled me along and out of the room. I was unable to fight, barely even able to keep up with his long, quick stride as he forced me down into the dungeons. My body shook with the aftereffects of the spell, the fear I felt for my own life and the terror I felt for Harry if they discovered him here. I prayed to the Gods that he'd Apparated away, but I knew, even as the thought crossed my mind, that running away didn't sound like a very Harry thing to do.

I groaned as my head and shoulder connected with hard stone as Lucius threw me in a cell. My father, I had to remind myself of who it was so willing to punish me, because he looked like my father, but didn't act like him at all. "I'm sure the Dark Lord will be very interested in seeing you when he wakes. You should rest until then. You'll need all the energy you can get if you wish to live through the torture I'm sure he has planned for you."

"Just because I love Harry more, doesn't mean I don't love you at all," I called after him, and his steps faltered for just a moment.

"It doesn't matter anymore, Draco," he sighed. "I tried to warn you after the last attack, tried to protect you, but you've forced my hand in this. You should have been more discrete," he chastised. He turned to face me then, his eyes holding less malice than before. "Remember who you are, Son," he whispered, his eyes flicking from my face to the ring I still wore on my finger, and then he was gone.

I glanced down, studying the ring, searching for some nuance I had missed before, and only then, when I thought of my Slytherin nature and Malfoy heritage, had I realized that Father hadn't taken my wand.

Author's note: Well, well, well. Isn't this a pickle?