Harry paced the dingy living room of the small flat, his nervous energy propelling him back and forth as Draco watched helplessly, unable to reassure and calm his lover. There was to be a meeting tonight with the Dark Lord, the inner most of Voldemort's followers. Harry felt the knots in his stomach twist and tighten.
"Sit down, you're making me nervous," Draco groused from the sofa, but he already was nervous, as he always was when Harry had to perform this charade. "You should take the polyjuice soon anyway."
Harry nodded tersely and only stopped his pacing to say, "In a minute."
He finally sat down beside Draco, and Draco slid an arm around him, pulling the dark head down to his shoulder, and they sat in silence, as no words could convey properly each other's thoughts, nor were they necessary.
A few minutes later, Draco jerked away, clutching at his left forearm and he grimaced, wincing from the sharp pain, and Harry leapt to action. He hurried to the kitchen and grabbed a dose of the polyjuice potion and gulped it, ignoring the repulsive taste, leaning against the counter as the potion took hold. He returned to the living room where Draco remained seated and, without looking at his mirror image, offered his left arm to Harry, where the Dark Mark still burned on his skin.
Harry took the arm and gently pressed two fingers against the flesh of the mark, still expecting the skin to sear him even though he knew it was cooler than the rest of Draco. He closed his eyes and his mind and exhaled, and suddenly an image appeared, a destination, his destination. An old house, surrounded by heavy trees and mountains, and Harry fixed the picture in his mind.
He leaned down and kissed Draco swiftly, so that he could not be caught up in an embrace. It would cost him his life if thoughts of his affection for Draco appeared while he was in Voldemort's presence, and Draco understood it as well, and so let him go without protest. Harry left the flat without a parting glance and left the building for his usual alleyway. He patted the inside pocket of his cloak, withdrew the lump that was a small vial and swallowed its contents then dropped it among the piles of trash. Harry murmured a prayer to the gods and closed his eyes, returned to the image of the house in his mind, and disapparated.
The moon hung low over the trees, unobscured by the jagged peaks of surrounding mountains, and the trees reached up, stretching from the tips of their roots to the glowing orb. As Harry neared the unlit house, he made out the dark outline of Peter Pettigrew waiting for him at the door.
"Took your sweet time, Malfoy," he hissed, his rat-face screwed up into a frown. "Everyone else has already arrived."
Pettigrew had always been jealous of one Malfoy or another; originally it had been Lucius, and Voldemort's trust in him, and now the son had replaced the father.
"The Dark Lord will not be pleased--"
"Then let him deal with me himself, rather than his lackey," Harry replied coldly, resisting as ever the urge to rip limb from limb the cowardly man who had betrayed his parents, and he looked forward to the day he could exact his own revenge. But to do so tonight would be counter-productive to everything he wished to accomplish. "Where are they, Wormtail?"
Pettigrew scowled and, turning on his heel, stormed through the house without answering, and so Harry followed, his guard up. They moved quickly through the dark house, through rooms with covered furniture and the floors heavy with dust and footprints, until they reached a dimly lit dining room. He scanned the room as he made his way to show his respect, taking stock of everyone present, aware of the red eyes following his every movement as he dropped to his knees.
"Draco."
"My Lord."
The two closest chairs to Voldemort were already filled: Dmitri Borodin, Voldemort's chief supporter in Russia, as well as the rest of Eastern Europe; and a dour witch named Ingrid Wechsler, who was in charge of rounding up supporters for the Dark Lord's cause. Harry had expected there to be more Death Eaters, but was unsurprised because of Voldemort's notorious lack of trust. This was probably not the first of such meetings, nor the last.
Harry took a chair beside Ingrid as Pettigrew moved to stand at Voldemort's side, his beady eyes ever on Draco, and he muttered, "Now that everyone's present."
"My dear Wormtail, let us not begin things on such an unpleasant note," Voldemort chided, "not when we have such important matters to discuss. Ingrid, please begin."
Withdrawing a folded parchment from her blood red robes, she cleared her throat and laid the paper open on the table before his red snake eyes which darted about greedily.
"The first group, over fifty witches and wizards, will be gathering here, in just over two weeks," she said, pointing to a marked spot in Russia. "Vasily has graciously agreed to quarter them as necessary until we are ready to begin the final attack."
"How kind, Vasily," the Dark Lord purred, his lips stretching in a grotesque smile, and Borodin acknowledged him with a gracious smile and nod. "You may continue."
"A second group of thirty will arrive in Paris shortly after to join your French supporters."
"Yes, just in time. All plans have been completed for the French Ministry?"
"Yes, my Lord. I will oversee things there personally."
"You have my complete trust in this matter, Ingrid. What of the plans for Fudge?"
"They are being finalized as we speak, my Lord."
Harry listened with abject boredom on his face, though his mind raced. Things were proceeding much faster than anticipated, and he did not fully know what was happening in France. He forced away the errant thoughts as the red eyes drifted to him.
"Draco."
"The potion? I have obtained through … deceptive means," he said with a twist of a smile, "a sample of the current potion. The previous one must have been contaminated for I was never able to replicate it successfully. However, I have already begun brewing my own and it should be ready for testing immediately."
"What chances are there of counteracting the potion?"
"None without completely tearing apart the avada kedavra spell and crafting a way around it, which would require months, if not years of research and refinement," said Harry. "However, the effects of the potion cannot last forever. I have heard rumors around the Ministry that even though Snape survived three hits of the killing curse, he did so on the verge of death. One more curse would have finished him off."
"That's reassuring," griped Pettigrew as he moved towards Harry. "We'll just have to all stand around and cast--"
"Wormtail, that is enough," his master hissed, and he stepped back submissively, still glaring at Harry, who placidly ignored him. "Surely even you can cast the four killing curses required to defeat it."
"If we have the necessary surprise, my Lord, then the potion will be ineffective because it requires half an hour to become potent," he added.
"It will most certainly be a surprise," Voldemort hissed, a smile slithering across his face. "What of Harry Potter?"
He shrugged and answered, "As far as I can determine, he is still in exile from the Ministry."
"And the Ministry?"
"The Ministry is completely unprepared for an attack right now. They are vulnerable."
"Very well. Vasily, anything new from the Russians?"
"No, my Lord, they are still cooperating fully, and I believe they will continue to do so as long as they perceive you to be the strongest."
Voldemort nodded and quiet descended upon the room as he surveyed the three sitting at the table before him.
"You are my most faithful of Death Eaters, and you shall be rewarded above all when our long struggle has reached its end, an end which grows nearer by the day. You will be summoned again soon."
With that dismissal, Ingrid and Vasily rose and nodded at their master while Harry remained seated as they filed out silently, Harry keeping his eyes on Voldemort, until only he, the Dark Lord and Wormtail remained in the room.
"Is there something further, Draco?"
"Yes, my Lord, but it is concerning a matter of which I must speak to you alone."
"What impudence!" Pettigrew exclaimed as he rushed to the table and leaned across. "I am the Dark Lord's most faithful servant and --"
"Leave us Wormtail," Voldemort said, his voice low, and glowering, Pettigrew complied. Voldemort turned back to Harry and said, "Come closer, and tell me what it is you wish to discuss."
Harry acknowledged and moved to a chair directly beside Voldemort. He took a deep breath and began.
"My Lord, this is a matter of extreme importance to me and I require your assistance, for you are the only wizard who might have the answer I seek." The thin face nodded, and he continued. "There is an ancient curse my father used on many people, including someone close to me, and I have been unable to find a countercurse. I have spoken with Healers, as well as wizards and witches in the top of their fields in curses, and no one has heard of such a curse."
"And you wish for me to provide you with a countercurse."
"Yes, my Lord."
"And what shall I receive in turn?"
"Whatever you wish, my Lord."
"Bring me Harry Potter and I shall find your countercurse."
"That I cannot give you, my Lord."
"And why not?" Voldemort asked, his red eyes glowing with curiosity.
After a long pause, he finally answered, "Because I am Harry Potter."
"How can that be possible?" he hissed, disbelief evident in his voice.
Harry withdrew his wand from his cloak and set it on the table between them, as well as a small vial, which he unstoppered and poured down his throat. Almost instantaneously, he felt all the cells in his body quiver and quake and his clothing grow uncomfortably tight as his body returned to its rightful self.
"As you can see, it is possible. I have just taken a potion which counter acts polyjuice potion."
Harry offered his left forearm for Voldemort's inspection, the skin pale and absent of the Dark Mark, and he leapt up and his chair clattered to the floor as he withdrew his wand and pointed it at the scar on Harry's forehead and his wand flew from the table to Voldemort's open hand.
"I do not know how you have tricked me, but you shall now die, Potter, and the prophecy will be complete at last."
His red eyes glowed like dying embers as he swept the wand towards Harry wordlessly. A shock hit him, and Harry jolted in his chair, felt as if all the muscles in his body clenched simultaneously, but death did not come. After a moment, he recovered enough to speak, though he continued to breathe heavily.
"I've taken the mortalis fallax potion, so it will take you a few more of those to kill me. Before you do, you should listen to what I've to say."
Voldemort eyed him warily before nodding, though he kept his wand still level with Harry's forehead.
"I have been passing as Draco since before Lucius's death, which has provided me with a multitude of opportunities to kill you. However, I did not. Does it not intrigue you that I have refrained from killing you when I so easily could have?"
"You would have died yourself, had you attempted to kill me. My loyal Death Eaters would not have allowed you to escape with your life."
"That is true," Harry acknowledged. "But I was willing to sacrifice my life in order to take yours. However, Dumbledore forbid it. He only wanted me to keep him apprised of your activities and plans, nothing more."
"Why do you reveal yourself to me, now? You must realize I cannot let you live, not with everything you have seen and heard tonight."
"You will let me live because I will turn over Hogwarts to you, as well as the mortalis fallax potion. All I ask in return is a countercurse to that which Lucius Malfoy placed on the real Draco."
"You would betray your precious Dumbledore and all that he has fought for?" Voldemort asked, his nostrils flaring. "I do not believe you."
"Then administer Veritaserum and you will know it is the truth," Harry said as he withdrew another vial from his cloak and set it on the table. "Or use your own, if you do not trust mine. It makes no difference to me."
Voldemort righted his chair and sat back down and contemplated Harry for a long moment. Finally, he said, "Very well, Potter. I shall use Veritaserum from my own stores and we shall see if you are telling the truth. Restore your disguise."
As Harry pulled out yet another vial and downed it, the Dark Lord touched the Dark Mark on his own arm, then lowered his wand below table level, still pointed at Harry. Almost immediately, a sullen Pettigrew appeared in the doorway, his eyes darting between the two wizards.
"Yes, my Lord?"
"I need Veritaserum, now."
Wormtail nodded and disappeared, and Harry and Voldemort watched each other silently while they waited. Finally, Pettigrew returned with the potion and gave it to his master, a multitude of questions on his face, though he knew he would be denied any answers.
"Leave us."
Once they were alone again, Voldemort administered the potion and waited for it to take effect.
"Who are you?"
"Harry Potter," he answered tonelessly.
"Why have you been masquerading as Draco?"
"To spy on Voldemort and his followers."
"For how long?"
"Since Lucius Malfoy left him for dead last April."
"What happened?"
"Lucius beat him and cast an unknown curse on him and left him for dead. I found him and nursed him back to health, but now he is dying from that curse."
"How have you found me whenever I have called a meeting?"
"By touching Draco's Dark Mark, though my link with Voldemort, I am able to see a picture in my head of the place, and so am able to apparate there."
"Why have you not attempted to kill me?"
"Dumbledore ordered me to spy only."
"Do you intend to kill me now?"
"No."
"Why do you wish to betray Dumbledore and Hogwarts?"
"To find a cure for Draco."
"You would sacrifice your friends for your lover?"
"Yes."
"Will you alert Dumbledore to our plans?"
"No."
"Then will you join with me?"
"Yes, if it will save Draco."
Voldemort leaned back in his chair and studied the younger man before him. He smirked, his lips thin and stretched across his face.
"Very well, Harry Potter. I shall allow you to leave here tonight, alive, but I will summon Draco in two days and you must return with the secrets of Hogwarts, as well as the potion, or I shall kill you, make no mistake. After we successfully destroy Hogwarts and that fool Dumbledore, I shall give you Draco's countercurse."
Harry nodded and answered, "Yes, my Lord. I understand."
"You are dismissed."
"My wand, my Lord. I shall need it when I go to Hogwarts."
Distrust flickered through the red eyes, but he handed the wand to Harry.
"May it be understood, Potter, that if you are to betray me now, you can not conceive of the repercussions to everyone you hold dear, and I shall take great pleasure in destroying you myself."
"Yes, my Lord. I shall not betray you."
"Send in Wormtail."
Harry acknowledge him and left the room quickly, and Pettigrew hovered just outside the door, despite the anti-eavesdropping charm on the room.
"Finished, are you?" he asked, a snarl in his voice.
"The Dark Lord wishes to see his …" Harry paused as a smirk emerged from his lips and his eyes narrowed, "his most faithful servant immediately. You had better hurry, Wormtail, for he might need you to perform some menial task."
"Nothing is menial for my master!"
"Tell me, Pettigrew, did he discipline you duly for that botched attack on Potter and Snape?" Harry asked, the smile disappearing as his silver eyes grew sharp and his voice cold. "I should hope so, for failure like that should be rewarded only with castigation."
The small man jerked back as if Harry had physically assaulted him, and his clenched jaw quivered in rage, and Harry knew that his punishment must have indeed been severe. Wormtail smiled, a false and obvious smile that gave no reassurance.
"The Dark Lord rewards us as he sees fit."
"Of course. You'd better hurry along before he rewards you again."
Harry turned on his heel and swept through the hallway, leaving a speechless Pettigrew in his wake. He pulled his cloak tight around him as he emerged into the cool spring night, then moved away from the house before closing his eyes and apparating back to his street.
He did not dally, as he would on most nights returning from a meeting with Voldemort, a practice which allowed his thoughts to settle and his mind to relax before returning home. Not tonight, for he had a singular purpose and he went back to the flat quickly.
Draco still sat on the couch when Harry entered the flat, though he leapt to his feet and raced across to the door and grasped his lover by the shoulders.
"Harry! Are you alright? That took longer than normal!"
"I'm fine," he answered, and gave Draco a quick kiss on the cheek before pushing past him. "I may have found a cure for you."
"What? A cure? How?"
"Voldemort," he said as he moved to the kitchen.
He downed the potion that changed him back to himself, then strode down the hallway.
"Harry," Draco breathed, his grey eyes clouding as he followed Harry into the bedroom, "what have you done?"
"What I had to do to keep you alive."
Harry dug through the trunk at the foot of the bed and pulled out a silvery cape that shimmered and rolled like mercury when he tossed it on the foot of the bed.
"But what --"
"I'm going to Hogwarts. I'll be gone at least a day."
Harry pulled off his clothes and tossed them in a heap on the floor before pulling out a pair of black trousers and a red jumper, which he tugged on immediately.
"What about my potion?"
"I'll be back in time for that."
"Harry, what are you doing? Why are you going --"
"Draco, trust me. I'll be back soon."
Harry grabbed the invisibility cloak and moved back down the hallway, through the living room and back to the door. He paused momentarily to wait for Draco.
"I love you," he mumbled into Harry's shoulder as his arms went around him.
"Me, too," came the soft reply, and Draco couldn't see the tears that swam in the green eyes. "More than you know."
Abruptly, Harry pulled back from the embrace and slipped out the door, leaving Draco for the second time that night to sit up and worry.
___
A/N:
Alright, I feel awful for taking so long with this chapter, but it's probably good that I did, since the extra time allowed me to work everything out. It'll probably be two weeks between chapters from here on out, maybe less. I really hope Ch 28 was worth the wait. Let me know if it wasn't.
To all of you who've reviewed, unless you're a writer and have been here before, near the end and floundering, you can't understand how much you all mean to me. If it weren't for you, I would've moved on to something else -- I have a few stories eating away at me at the moment -- but I couldn't leave this unfinished while I have people eagerly awaiting the next chapter, and I think finishing this is helping me as a writer. Again, thank you, especially those of you who review every chapter (or two) … I appreciate it.