Hello, again! So sorry this wasn't posted sooner! It took more planning to plan than I original thought... lol, planning to plan... anyway, moving on. I hope you enjoy and thanks so much for reading!

Part 3- Year 7

How the Love was Fallen

Warning: references to torture

Chapter 1- The Pretend

"Harry," Sirius called, his voice echoing up the stairs. "Are you ready?" he stood in the middle of his room in Grimmauld Palace, staring at his suitcase and feeling… He didn't actually know how he felt. He knew he wasn't coming back here. At least not until he'd destroyed all Voldemort's Horcruxes, which could take who knew how long.

It had been decided fairly early that he wouldn't be sent back to his Aunt and Uncle for the summer. He didn't know who had decided that, and he didn't much care. He'd been assured that everything with his family would be taken care of, but again, he didn't much care. He figured they were just as relieved to be rid of him as he was to be rid of them.

"Harry!" Sirius called up the stairs again, sounding exasperated. He started, grabbing his suitcase and tugging it off the bed. It landed with a loud thud as he started to wheel it across the bedroom.

"I'm coming!" he called back. Living with Sirius had been a learning experience for both of them. The first month or so Sirius had hovered over him, reminding him more of Molly Weasley than anything else. Harry had eventually had to tell him that the only thing he'd wanted was space. His mentor had died. His boyfriend had just betrayed him. He just wanted to be left alone. And Sirius had looked him in the eye and answered that 'you don't leave family alone when they're hurting, Harry.' It had been a new experience for him to say the least.

Still Sirius had his moments too. Like the one time he'd almost gotten Harry arrested in a Muggle coffee shop because he was sure the waitress was hitting on him. He was still immature, sometimes morose, prone to locking himself up in the study with Buckbeak, but they were both learning. And Harry was happier than he ever would have been at Privet Drive.

Not to say that he was particularly happy. Just happier.

He stumbled to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, his suitcase almost hitting Sirius as it crashed down the last step. Sirius just raised an eyebrow at him before gesturing toward the living room and watching Harry wheel his suitcase past. The Floo was already set up; Sirius' own luggage set awkwardly beside the fireplace.

"You go first," Sirius said, winking in the roughish way that would no doubt drive Mrs. Weasley crazy once they arrived. "I'm right behind you."

"Alright," Harry answered, stepping into the fireplace with his suitcase digging into his ribs as he shoved it beside him. He threw down a handful of Floo powder. "The Burrow!" he called, immediately feeling the dizzying shove and pull of Floo travel that he hadn't gotten used to yet. Would probably never get the chance to used to.

There had been talk about armed guards and escorts and about whether they should take him to the Burrow by broom instead of Floo, but Sirius had had a long—loud conversation that had ended with Harry and him traveling alone by Floo to the Burrow. They were going for Harry's birthday, for Fleur and Bill Weasley's wedding, for—as Sirius said—"something to get you out of the house." He'd said it with a dark look in his eyes that told Harry more than anything else that Sirius knew exactly what he was planning, and that he didn't like it one bit.

But there was nothing he could do about it.

Harry landed with a green flare in the Weasley's living room, stumbling out of their fireplace and probably getting soot onto their carpet. Not that they much seemed to care. Mrs. Weasley was on him in a minute, pressing him against her chest in a tight hug, babbling something about him being skinny and asking if Sirius was feeding him.

"Of course, I'm feeding him," Sirius answered, stepping out of the Floo. He set his own suitcase aside with a wide grin that didn't reach his eyes before turning and hugging Remus tightly.

Mrs. Weasley huffed but released him. And Hermione was suddenly right there, throwing her arms around him, Ron standing right behind her, smiling brightly. They'd been sending letters all summer, but they hadn't been able to see each other. It was too dangerous to really go out anymore. And it was different to actually be in the same room as them. To look in their eyes and know they were still with him, even after everything. Because he didn't think he could take another betrayal. After a minute, Hermione let him go, stepping back with one hand on his shoulder.

"Good to see you, Harry," Mr. Weasley smiled, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry barely got the chance to smile at him though before Fleur was there, kissing him across the cheeks and greeting him with enthusiasm that he couldn't keep up with. He heard Remus' laugh over his shoulder and looked around to see him still standing over by Sirius. He tilted his head toward Harry, acknowledging him. His eyes dark and knowing and sad.

Draco bowed his head forward, letting the water get into his eyes as his hair fell into his face. He should be finishing up; he'd spent too much time in the shower already, but this was one of the few times he could simply be without anyone disturbing him. He shuffled his feet, staring down at the tiles and feeling… he didn't know what he felt. Hadn't know for all long time. Hadn't been allowed to feel anything but fear and loyalty and more fear for so long.

He squeezed his eyes shut, still picturing the woman who Voldemort had presented at the latest Death Eater meeting. He'd said her name was Charity Burbage; she had apparently been a Muggle Studies teacher at Hogwarts. Draco could have done without ever knowing who she'd been. He could have done without ever knowing who any of the people the Dark Lord ordered him to torture were. But then he supposed it was sometimes worse to imagine.

The water was running in thick streams through his hair, catching across his closed eyes and making his eyelashes heavy. It was boiling hot, burning down his neck and back as it made its way to the shower floor. There had been a girl last week; Draco was fairly sure she was a muggle. The Dark Lord had never told him who she was, and Draco had never asked. In between the three days of crucio, and even after he'd been ordered to cast Avada Cadavra, Draco had never asked who she was. At the time, he'd been relieved.

Sometime after the fifth night of nightmares, he'd stopped being relieved. He couldn't stop seeing her in a bright dress somewhere with a family. Maybe a fiancé, a husband? Children. Did she have parents she loved as much as he loved his mother? And the thoughts went around and around and around.

Draco stepped forward, grinding his forehead against the wall. The water was getting extremely hot now. He needed to turn it down. Or just get out. He needed to get out. No doubt his father or Bellatrix or the Dark Lord were looking for him by now.

He sighed, reaching down and twisting the nob as the water reached an unbearable level. He stepped out, curling his fingers around his wand and flicking it. He was dry in the next second, setting his wand down and pulling his robes over his body. Severus was waiting for him when he stepped out into the hall, his dark eyes thoughtful as they locked on Draco's.

"You were in there a long time," he said. Draco didn't bother to answer, passing by Severus as he made his way toward the entry hall.

After the Death Eater meeting, Draco had accompanied Severus to his house, saying he was going to visit his mother. Really, he just wanted to get away from Bellatrix, from Lucius, from the Dark Lord. He didn't know why the Dark Lord had released Lucius from prison. Maybe just because he could. Maybe because he liked the way he cowered. And of course, when he'd demanded to live in Malfoy Manor, Bellatrix had been quick to agree, and Lucius had bowed and scraped, and Draco had had no choice.

At least his mother was with Severus under the pretense of receiving treatment for her condition. The Dark Lord had just smiled thinly when he'd heard that, looking more amused than anything else. Draco had taken what victories he could get.

"Draco," Severus said, walking behind him, and he stopped, turning his head just enough to look back at him. "Come sit. You still have time, and no doubt Narcissa will be upset if she misses you."

The only ones who seemed truly excited were Bill and Fleur. And even Bill had a subdued edge to him, the look of someone who knew something bad was coming but was determined to celebrate the good anyway. Fleur flew around as if she was in a daze, screeching when her parents arrived and driving everyone in the Burrow crazy. Harry supposed if he was getting married, he would be unbearable too.

Except he wasn't getting married because the one person he wanted to marry... Well.

"I think I've got everything," Hermione muttered. It was probably her fifth time saying it, but then she always thought of something else to pack, something else to throw in her bag.

"Hermione, relax," Ron answered, sitting on his bed across from where she was rummaging. Harry was sitting on the bed next to his, leaning against the wall as he watched her. They'd finally gotten away from Mrs. Weasley's endless instructions, the endless preparations for the wedding, and the watchful eyes of not just Mrs. Weasley but Sirius as well.

"I've been packing for days. We'll have changes of clothes, books-."

"Hermione," Harry interrupted, and she finally looked over at them, breathing out a long sigh as she did. After another minute, she moved over and sat next to Ron at his bed.

"We need to decide where we're going once we leave here," Hermione said. "We'll be on our own."

"What about your parents?" Harry asked, and Hermione's eyes tightened as she looked away from him.

"They're… They won't be a problem."

"What-?" he started, but Ron was talking before he could ask anything else.

"I think my parents know, you know," Ron said. "But my mom doesn't want to accept it."

"Sirius is the same way," Harry sighed. "We won't be able to go to Grimmauld Palace unless we want him to come with us."

"Would that be so bad?" Ron answered. Hermione frowned, and Harry couldn't tell if she disapproved or not. He knew she thought Sirius was immature, but he wasn't sure if she disapproved of him that much. Still, he didn't know that he wanted to drag Sirius into his mess.

"I don't know," Harry said. "I just have a feeling that's not going to happen."

"It's not like we can decide where we're going without knowing where the next Horcrux is anyway," Ron said, and Harry felt a little like they were chasing air. Lost with no idea which direction he should be chasing. And he couldn't help thinking that Draco would know exactly what to do.

Except Draco wasn't there.

"Still no news about the locket with the note from RAB?" Hermione asked.

"None," Harry answered. "And it's not like we would know how to destroy one even if we did have a Horcrux."

And that didn't exactly lighten the mood.

"I wish Dumbledore had..." Harry trailed off, the thought feeling hot and raw between them. Hermione shifted, switching beds so she could press her hand into Harry's shoulder.

"Harry?"

"He would still be here if not for Malfoy," he bit out, and he couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice, the hurt. Because he wasn't even sure it was true. But it was so much easy to blame Draco when Draco wasn't there. When he wasn't there by his own choice.

"Harry," Hermione said, her voice soft and uncertain. "I've been thinking about that. And I think- That is to say, Ron and I think it's no so simple-.'

"Of course it is!" Harry snapped, making her jump.

"Oi," Ron answered, his face somewhere between pity and annoyed.

"Look," Harry said, trying to keep his voice level. "Malfoy betrayed us. There's nothing else to it."

"I..." Hermione cast Ron a significant look before turning back to him, her eyes soft an full of something he didn't really understand. "Alright."

"You know, I told him as little as I could," Severus said, and Draco could feel his dark eyes on him as he kept his face turned resolutely away. He wondered what he looked like. He wondered what Severus saw. He wondered if he really wanted to know. "The Dark Lord would be suspicious if I didn't-."

"I never said anything," Draco interrupted. He sat across from Severus in his sitting room. It was dark, not as in low lit but as in the furniture was dark. It wasn't near as impressive as Malfoy Manor, but then he had a feeling Severus wasn't trying to be impressive.

"You didn't have to," Severus sighed, shifting in his chair, and Draco heard the clattering of tea that meant he must have set his cup down.

"I'm not angry you told the Dark Lord Harry was at the Burrow," Draco said, and he almost believed himself. "You did what you had to do," he paused. He was developing as much of a dramatic effect as Severus. "We always do what we have to do."

"Don't forget why we're doing this," Severus answered, and he sounded so calm. He always sounded so calm. And Draco wanted to throw something at him. He tightened his hands on his lap, keeping his stare across the room as he spoke.

"Do you have any idea what the Dark Lord was talking about when he took Lucius' wand?" he asked, because maybe if he changed the subject he wouldn't explode. Because if he exploded, he didn't know if he could go back to being in control. To being afraid.

"No," Severus said, and his voice was the tone he had when Draco imagined him frowning. "It must have something to do with the twin wand cores."

"Hmm," Draco answered. "And you'll be there when they attack the Burrow?"

"I imagine the Dark Lord will expect me," he answered. "But, Draco, I won't be able-." he was interrupted by the opening of the door, Narcissa's white blonde hair flashing as she came into the room. Draco rose as she made her way over to him. She didn't have the presence she used to, the confidence and the grace that she'd always possessed, and it hurt to see the look of confusion that passed over her face every time she looked at him.

"Draco," she muttered, her hand falling on his shoulder. It had been the way she always touched him when he'd been away. "How are you?"

"Fine, Mother," he answered, stepping out from under her hand. It wasn't that she wasn't better. When he'd left her with the Zabinis last summer, she had been nearly catatonic, barely eating, staring out the window, not responding no matter what he did. Now she was talking, recognizing him, remembering some things even. She had even gotten better since she'd been with Severus, but she still wasn't the same.

And he knew it wasn't fair to expect her to be, but she had always been the one constant in his life. The one person in his life he'd been able to count on, even when his father was cruel, or classes were hard, or his classmates were prejudice. And he knew it wasn't fair to her, but he really needed her.

He needed her to look at him with her soft blue eyes that had that edge of steel as he told her of everything that was going on. She would know what to do. She would know how he could possibly get through losing Harry and his free will and his morality.

"I should really go," Draco told her, his face softening as her face fell. And he waited for her to stop him, for her to say something as she would always have in the past.

"Of course," she smiled tightly, stepping out of his way. And he had to get away. He ducked his head, stepping out of the room, and heading for the entrance. He just…

"Draco," Severus called behind him, stopping him with his hand on the door. "Give her time." Draco just swing the door open, letting himself out. He was out of time to give.