"It's not working." Staring at his own reflection, Harry started to feel foolish. "It's not going to work, I told you." He resisted the urge to throw the mirror again. Stupid Draco for getting his hopes up. Stupid him for allowing it. He knew better, didn't he?

Draco grabbed Harry's wrist to keep him from doing anything rash. "Would you just wait? It might take some time. You don't know where he is."

"Oh, and you do?"

Instead of replying, Draco just gave him a look. "I know better than to toss magical mirrors about."

"Right, you just destroy bedrooms."

"I was looking for something!" Draco's grip on Harry's wrist was getting painful and he started to pull away.

"Am I interrupting something?" The voice was muted and a bit tinny, but the drawl and cadence was unmistakably Sirius Black's.

Harry gasped and nearly dropped the mirror. Now he was grateful for Draco's steadying grip. "Sirius?"

"Hullo, Harry." Sirius's eyes widened in surprise and traveled to Draco, but then he looked back to Harry and flashed his cocksure grin. He looked younger, more akin to Snape's memory than the haggard look of an Azkaban refugee that Harry recalled. He wore a rather spiffing hat, and by the looks of his bare shoulders, nothing else.

Harry wasn't sure what to make of Sirius's nudity and he wondered if he'd caught him in the middle of something. He found himself unable to put together words that made sense both from shock and embarrassment. "Um, hullo. How is um... life?"

Draco let out an annoyed huff of air that sounded much like, "Pfft."

"Well, just a lot of afterlife, you know how it is." Sirius appeared nothing but amused. "Except that I suppose you don't."

Much like the veil at the Ministry of Magic, Harry could hear the faint whispering, just beyond Sirius's voice. Though Sirius was easy to see and well lit, everything beyond him was black with hazy edges. It was disturbing to ponder what might be in the beyond. As far as Harry knew, it could be a giant orgy-- and perhaps it was. As much as Sirius deserved such fun, Harry really didn't want to think about that right now. "Er, no, I suppose I wouldn't." After a brief pause, he added, "Nice hat."

"So is this just a friendly chat, then?" Sirius smirked and lowered the brim in a fanciful tip of his hat to Harry. If there was something untoward going on, he wasn't giving any hints of it. He glanced again at Draco, but didn't question.

"No... I had... um... a question." But what those questions were had vanished from Harry's mind. All he could do was stare dumbly at Sirius. He looked contented with the afterlife. The thought both pleased and hurt Harry. He didn't want Sirius to be suffering, although in the back of his mind, he'd had the thought that he might rescue Sirius-- bring him back to life to have the family he never had. That line of thought was obliterated by seeing Sirius so at home where he was, and Harry began to realize that they both had grown beyond the point of that fantasy.

"Let's hear it, then?" Sirius smiled at Harry, the expression on his face indulgent. Harry wondered if he could tell what he was thinking.

Draco moved close enough to Harry that his pale hair stroked his cheek. "The question was about your brother Regulus. We understand that he quit the Death Eaters before he was killed. We believe that his name was attached to a note to You-Know-Who pertaining to something--" Draco asked.

"Oh right, Regulus collected one of his Horcruxes. Yes, he told me about that," Sirius interrupted.

"It was him?" Harry was anxious to know more, but then, the sooner he finished this conversation, the less he'd see of his godfather. However, Draco's closeness and the smell of his shampoo and the radiant warmth of his body so close it was distracting.

"Bit of a falling out, obviously."

"Over what?" Draco was leaning in too much, obscuring Harry's view of Sirius, so Harry moved in closer. Their cheeks touched, and while Harry fully expected Draco to move away, he didn't.

"Well..." Sirius pulled his hat off and fluffed his hair. Once he'd set his hat down, it vanished from view. "He was asked to do something he didn't want to do."

"Go on." Draco snaked his arm around Harry, who leaned against him. He wondered why Draco was comforting him, but he wasn't going to ask. Any questioning might lead to Draco removing his arm.

"I was," Sirius snapped, glaring at Draco before speaking to Harry. "He was asked to kill me and take the mirror I used to communicate with you father. While Regulus didn't really have a problem stealing my mirror, he didn't want to murder his own brother. So he refused and was tortured till he agreed to do it."

Harry wrapped his arm around Draco. His breathing picked up between the revelation and Draco's nearness. "But... so... then..." There was a connection there and Harry knew that it was probably obvious, but the blood was flowing away from his head as he snuggled closer to Draco and wasn't pushed away.

Sirius looked between them and though the corner of his mouth twitched, he refrained from smirking or commenting. "Well, it was an odd request, wasn't it? Regulus didn't understand why I needed to die to procure the mirror, so he started doing some research. 'Digging around,' as it were. He found out about the Horcruxes and began learning about Tom Riddle's life, which led him to why Voldemort wanted the mirrors."

"So then he found out about the Horcruxes and went looking for one..." Draco prodded.

"But how did he get it?" Harry interrupted. "There had to be someone else with him. Did you help him?"

The familiar bark-like laugh sounded from the mirror. It shot straight to Harry's nerves, twisting his stomach, reminding him how much he'd really missed Sirius. He seemed far away even while he was present-- like a fading dream. "No, I'm afraid that was Kreacher. I'd say that explains why he's so off, but he was always... odd."

"So, the mirrors are... why did he want them?" Draco seemed determined to keep the conversation on track, which was lucky as Harry started to notice that Sirius's image was fading.

"While I didn't know this when Prongs and I started using them..." Draco gave Harry a questioning look at the use of the nickname, but didn't remark. Sirius continued, "They belonged to Godric Gryffindor."

"That's what the 'G' on the side means," Harry observed.

Sirius's wan face peered back at Harry, fractionally fainter than he had been before. "Yes. From what I heard later, Gryffindor's brother was a rather sickly squib cursed with a hex no one could undo, so Godric enchanted these mirrors so that he could talk to him while he was stuck in bed. He could show him the outside world, and the school he was building and such." He looked between Harry and Draco and paused. "Well, that's the story anyway."

Harry stared despondently at the vanishing image, quiet as he mulled over the story of the Gryffindor brothers. It was an interesting history, but he wasn't sure of the significance. "Hang on," he said, thinking aloud. He suppressed his urge to panic at losing Sirius again. He needed to use this time wisely. "When did my father give you the mirror back?"

"Harry... that..." It was obvious that it was a story Sirius didn't want to tell, but that he could also see that their time was limited. His grey eyes cast around the frame of the mirror, the cage between them. "When I spoke with Hagrid... that night... he was holding it. The house was destroyed, but you were undamaged and playing with it. I... took it with me. I wanted it to... well, to remember James when I did what I needed to do.

Sirius paused again to bite his lip and then went on, "You have to understand that at the time I thought... well, I thought I'd die fighting Voldemort after I'd gotten from Peter where he was. I didn't mean to steal..."

"It's all right, Sirius." Harry smiled softly at him. His first concern was to alleviate Sirius's obvious guilt. What he would've done with a mirror whose mate was missing all those years at the Dursley's, he had no idea. "I'd probably have broken it anyway. Or the Dursleys would've."

Sirius was little more than a ghostly figure in the mirror anymore. He was saying something; his face appeared anguished either in remorse or desperation of some sort. In the translucence of reflection, it was hard to say. Harry was looking at himself, squinting at what was left of Sirius and whispered, "You are forgiven." He slid his fingers over what was likely the last impression of his godfather that he was going to see in this lifetime.

Harry was startled to see a droplet of water land next to his thumb, silvery on the glass. He whipped his head up to look at Draco, who was staring impassively back at him. It wasn't Draco who was crying.

Draco's cool thumb brushed under the frame of Harry's glasses, pushing the wetness away. His other fingers curled on Harry's cheek, just before his ear. Harry leaned into him as he felt Draco's caring lips brush over the roughness of his scar. He shivered at the gentle touch and drew the mirror against his chest, clutching it between them.

--

Though he hadn't shed further tears, Draco held Harry in bed. Their bare bellies pressed together, although Draco still insisted that they wear their pyjama bottoms. Lolly observed from a chair, perched lovingly, but otherwise uninvolved. Harry watched the odd way she glowed in the tentative shadow light of nighttime, thinking how ethereal she looked, like Sirius in those last moments. Just past vision.

Draco stroked his hair and pressed occasional kisses soft like sighs to his cheek and lips. Harry pushed against him again, listening to the way their sweaty and come-coated skin sealed together, tacky from the time that had passed since they'd come together again.

Harry fought his distress with thoughts of what it was like to press against Draco in the crush of darkness, the way Draco's fingers searched his cock out curiously, teasing him through his flannels before slipping past the flannel. There wasn't a vein, nerve or wrinkle that Draco hadn't touched in his exploration. He'd even added lotion to the mix to smooth the sensation.

The back of Harry's pyjama pants had pulled what he thought might be a permanent burn into his back where the string stuck, but the overwhelming sensation of those precious supple hands thrumming over his cock pushed it from his mind. Even the notion of it was enough to awaken Harry's cock again. He pushed the semi-hardness against Draco's hipbone, whimpering at how hard he'd jabbed it.

"You're really milking this whole pity thing, aren't you?" Draco's hand glided from Harry's back to rest on his hip and he teased his thumb as far as it would reach over the material.

"Isn't that what you'd do?" asked Harry, surprised at his own cheek.

Draco appeared appreciative of the jab. "That's different."

"How?"

"I'm a Slytherin."

Harry rolled his eyes and nudged Draco's face, coy expression and all, up to trace the soft flesh with the tip of his tongue. Draco's mouth wouldn't open to that prompt, so he leaned in and sucked soft kisses to his bottom lip. To his consternation, Draco remained stubborn. Parting his lips again to swipe his tongue over Draco's mouth, he found it opened and the meltingly warmth melded with his.

After a few more nudges against his hip and Harry's agonized whine, Draco ducked his hand under the waistband and his index finger delicately traced over the head of Harry's cock, nudging back the foreskin. Harry let out a relieved sigh and reached for Draco's cock.

--

The next morning, Harry awoke to a dip and creak in the mattress. His eyes opened slowly, wanting to savour this moment of waking up with Draco, pleased that this time he had waited. When his eyes finally did open, he was surprised to find a blurry redhead before him. "Ron?"

"Try again," said Ginny.

Harry sat up immediately and grabbed the covers over him, hoping to hide the nudity and sticky mess. He was surprised to find that he was not only cleaned up, but wearing his sleep shirt. It hadn't been a wonderful dream, his thighs were sore from thrusting against that beautiful hand a few times last night. He surmised that Draco must've heard company and fixed him up. He quietly blessed him. "What are you doing here?"

"Good morning to you, too!" Though her words were caustic, even to his unaided eye, he could see that she was grinning.

He reached past her for his glasses and shoved them on and gave her a dubious look. "Good morning, what are you doing here?"

"I didn't sneak up here to seduce you if that's what you think."

Harry gave an exasperated sigh and folded his arms over his chest.

"I came to apologize. Well, I came with Ron and Hermione. They're downstairs being grilled by Malfoy on the condition of his mum. But I just wanted to..."

"They're here?" Harry leapt out of bed and grabbed his dressing gown. He didn't care that he wasn't dressed; he hadn't seen them in what felt like months.

"Harry! I wanted to offer my apologies for how I behaved, would you just wait a moment?" She stood to bodily block him from the door.

"Do I have a choice?" He crossed his arms again, staring her down, willing her to move from the door.

"It was just kind of a shock. I just always thought we'd..."

"We're not."

Ginny nodded grimly and then thrust her hand into Harry's face. On her pinky was a pretty little gold ring with a tiny bud on it that blossomed in a complex, multi-petal golden bloom. "Neville gave me this."

Harry gave it a disinterested look. "Back to Neville now, are you? That's great."

"We didn't really date before; it was just the Yule Ball. Anyway, he's really sweet, just a bit shy. This is a dahlia. He says that in the Victorian language of flowers, it means 'forever thine.'"

"Forever hm?" he asked with sarcastic fervor. "That's quite a commitment."

"I really like Neville. He's brave and heroic in his own way, you know. Besides, I'm over you. I just thought you should know that." Her face was strained and her freckles stood out even more on her blanched skin.

"I'd like to see Ron and Hermione now."

"I'd like us to be friends again, Harry. I really am over you. This isn't a... I just..." she stared at her feet and switched her weight from foot to foot. "Neville... kind of grew on me, I guess. I really was trying to make you jealous with Seamus. I dated a few other people, but... Neville really treats me well and... Well, he is a little clingy... and he's started to buy me things like Seamus did."

Harry had been about to physically remove her from the door, but he was struck by her words and posture. He wasn't sure he could doubt her sincerity. "That's great for you. Both of you. Maybe you should just... maybe he just needs reassuring?"

"Maybe. I try to be reassuring, but... I don't know. I guess it started out so weird after I broke up with Seamus and... well, Dean was a bit put out. I guess it's a bit tense in the room now." She shoved her hands into her pockets. "Plus, I can't really afford to buy him things back so I've been doing... erm..."

Harry's eyes widened and he blushed brightly and looked away.

"Sorry, I don't mean to embarrass you."

"It's all right. I just... I don't know what to tell you. I'm not exactly experienced in what to buy to replace a blowj-- er," he teased, breaking the ice with a bit of a smile.

"Oh, I bet Malfoy would love to be lavished with things. Or blowj-'s."

"I bet he would." Harry missed the eager and impish grin on Ginny's face.

"So you are with him!" she said, shaking her red mane back from her face.

"Not exactly with him, just... not... I don't really know. Nothing's..." he looked over at Draco's dressing gown with the Slytherin crest sitting in the chair, a silent indication that Draco was not staying in his own room.

Ginny smirked at the clothing. "Well, mum says I can't blame you for who you are. People like you are born that way."

"What?" Harry's brows furrowed at that wording.

"You can't help what you do, you know? You're born that way. That's what she said. So I don't blame you, Harry." Her magnanimous grin gave Harry the urge to slap her.

Instead, he gritted his teeth and tried to smile. He didn't want to have another row. He just wanted to be happy that his friends were back. Would Mrs Weasley really put it that way? He hoped that Ginny misunderstood or was being careless with her phrasing. "Breakfast smells great. I'm starving; let's get down there."

--

After Mrs Weasley and Ginny left, Harry and Ron settled in to play Wizard's chess while Hermione hunted down some yarn and needles that had been left over from the Order's stay to frantically begin making hats in the hopes of freeing the house-elf that Narcissa had brought. After watching Harry lose several times in a row, Draco insinuated himself into the game, going head-to-head against Ron.

The game ran through dinner, each boy spending several minutes considering each move. They took their meal at the table, staring one another down and quipping. The game's end found Ron triumphant and Draco sulking in his room with several hexes on the door barring Harry from comforting him.

Ron would later admit that it was the best game he'd ever had.

Harry spent the remainder of the night chit-chatting with his friends making vague references to how the relationship was developing with Draco. He was pleased to find his friends genuinely happy for him.

When he retired for the night, he was disappointed to find his bed empty save for Lolly occupying the space that Draco would have. There was no note, but Harry was touched that Draco left his precious toy in his stead. It gave him hope that this arrangement was temporary.

He washed up and slipped into bed, tucking Lolly under his chin. Inhaling, he could smell the citrusy remnants of Draco. He buried his nose in her silken mane and closed his eyes, hoping for sweet dreams.

--

After what had seemed like only a few minutes, but read a couple of hours by the low-lit clock on the nightstand, Harry awoke to someone in shadow pulling Lolly from his chest. He squinted in the gloom, making out only a vaguely silvery figure until Draco was close enough that he felt his breath on his cheek. His hands and feet were cold, but Harry ignored that as he resettled under the covers with Draco. Lolly was relegated to the nightstand again as Harry tilted his head back to feel the warm kisses on his throat and gasped at the cold hands working down the front of his pyjama pants.

--

Harry was disappointed, but not surprised, to wake up alone the next morning. This had been going on for days with no discussion or acknowledgement during the daylight hours and he was beginning to feel a bit used. At first it hadn't really mattered. He wanted Draco, Draco apparently wanted him, and he certainly couldn't complain about how good it felt. He wanted more, and was determined to talk about it.

However, Draco had taken to keeping himself in the company of Ron and Hermione like a shield to keep himself from being cornered. Each night he arrived in Harry's room, beginning immediately with the frantic kisses and touching that obliterated all questions from Harry's mind. He cursed his own weakness and furthermore Draco's ability to prey on it. If that is what he was doing.

The progression of days went merrily enough. He was hesitant to bring up the subject of Horcruxes, as Hermione had suffered horribly from gaining the last one, and having everyone around him felt settled like family. It wasn't something he wished to disrupt with something as unsettling as reality.

Each flare of the fireplace was met with a wincing realization that Snape could arrive with more word about what their next move would be and this peaceful, homey setting would be obliterated and he could possibly lose someone altogether. There were still two Horcruxes outstanding before he had to go into his final battle to destroy Voldemort-- a battle he was certain he'd win, but he wasn't so certain that he would come out of alive.

It was as if the very thought of the man had summoned him, but instead of his arriving through the Floo, Snape stalked into the drawing room, wand at the ready and pointed at Harry. "Isn't this a happy little gathering of sitting ducks?"

"What are you doing here?" Harry jumped up from the chess game he was playing with Ron, pulling his wand in spite of the futility of it.

"Is that the response you propose to use on the Dark Lord? I assure you that you wouldn't make it through your sentence before you, then Weasley were put to rest." Snape demonstrated by pointing his wand first and Harry, then to Ron and across the room at Hermione.

"Lower your wand, Professor," Harry snapped. "How did you get here?"

"By Floo." Snape smirked and pointed his wand one last time at Harry, holding it for affect before he slipped it into his pocket.

"So you ambushed us on purpose?" Harry likewise put his wand away, into his back pocket.

"No, actually the only link by Floo network is between where I'm staying and the kitchen Floo. No one was there. This is no excuse for your sloppy response, however," Snape lectured.

"And just where ARE you staying, Professor?" asked Draco from the doorway behind Snape. Harry was pleased to see that Draco had pressed his wand to Snape's throat from behind, like a blade ready to slit his throat.

Snape's expression went from surprised to lecherously proud. He pulled the wand from his throat and with a three quarter turn, faced Draco. "I could show you if you wish." Then Snape took a step back, his visage turned enough for Harry to see his horror. "What are you wearing, Malfoy?"

Though Harry hadn't really thought about it, Draco had been dressing like a Muggle lately. Harry had appreciated the relative tightness of the trousers that Draco had been donning, but hadn't thought about why he was wearing them until now. He blushed and grinned.

Draco lowered his head and stared at his shifting feet. "Clothes."

"What would your father say?" Snape began to close in on him again, but Hermione pushed herself between the Slytherins.

"I would think that Lucius Malfoy would be glad that his son was still alive at this point."

"He doesn't need a Mudblood to defend him, Miss Granger."

Harry jumped ahead of Ron to keep him from hexing Snape and joined the fray. "But it's all right for a half blood to defend you. But I suppose since you're not a pureblood yourself, you have little to say on that matter, do you?"

"You won't be defending anyone very long against the Dark Lord if you spend all of your time playing children's games. You should be training up. Finding the Horcruxes is only half of your mission, you still have to kill Him." Snape folded his arms and backed into the hall.

Draco looked between Snape and Harry, an unreadable expression on his face. "Not necessarily Potter, though. Once they're all found, anyone could kill him."

Harry was horrified at the smirking realization that overtook Snape's countenance as he passed out of being shocked by Draco's ignorance. He kept his glare steady, jaw set as he listened to Snape's hiss. "You didn't tell him, did you?"

"Tell me what?" Draco's hair flared from his head as his head turned frantically back and forth.

Ron and Hermione appeared rooted to where they were, but they were looking at one another and then to Harry. He swallowed and let his head lag forward.

"Mr Malfoy, what Potter has failed to explain to you is that there is a prophecy." Harry could practically feel Snape's superior grin and Draco's growing anxiety.

"Yes, but no one knows what that prophecy says as it was dropped in the Ministry of Magic." Draco's closeness felt like defeat. He was so clueless and unprepared for this. Harry hated himself for not explaining it before now. He just hadn't wanted to think about it himself. Now he realized just how cruel that was.

"I heard it when it was given. Most of it, in any case. There is reason why the Dark Lord went to kill an infant. It is Potter who is prophesied to be the only one who can destroy him. It is Potter who will have to face him in the end. Stand or fall, the final battle will be between the Dark Lord--who has decades of learning-- dark magic and experience against a Hogwarts drop out."

Harry turned to Draco, who stood in ghastly comprehension. He looked appalled and determined. Draco tilted his head up, trying to remain haughty in spite of the glassy-wet look of his eyes. "Well, Harry's defeated him several times before with as many odds, if not more as it wasn't... there weren't prophecies about those and he had even less experience."

His relief was mitigated by Draco pulling his hand away when Harry reached for it. Draco stood with his arms crossed, radiating his displeasure, but at least he wasn't leaving with Snape. "Thank you," Harry whispered. Draco averted his eyes.

After clearing his throat, Snape drawled, "In any case, I was attempting to contact you to let you know I found out a bit about the final Horcrux."

Since Harry was keeping his back to Snape, Hermione piped up with, "What did you find out, Professor?" Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Ron flinch.

"I am no longer a Professor, Miss Granger." Harry wheeled around to glare at him; Snape eyed him down with his usual disinterested scowl. "In any case, it would seem that the final Horcrux is a mirror belonging to Godric Gryffindor. However, it would seem that something went wrong with--"

Draco broke in. "It was already broken. It can't be... unless it's the other one... but we couldn't possibly get it back, it's on the other side." Harry turned to look at Draco midway through his speech. His voice was high, near to cracking and the anxiety on his pointed face alarmed Harry.

"As I was saying... something went wrong with the spell, so it might not be--"

"But Potter was found with that mirror, when his parents... when..." Draco gave Snape an almost pleading look before staring at Harry and then up to his forehead.

Catching on finally to where Draco was going, Harry reached up to slide his finger over his scar. "He meant... to use the mirror... to kill me to make the... final..."

"It's highly unusual for a living person to carry a Horcrux," said Snape. "However, it would explain his fixation on killing you. Perhaps to reclaim that bit of soul so that he could place it elsewhere. He wouldn't want to make a new Horcrux without ending the old one. He is fixated on numbers."

"So... they'll have to... kill each other?" Hermione asked tightly. She and Ron had huddled together.

Harry exhaled as he felt Draco's hand in his. He gripped it tightly. Snape glared at the union and spoke, "It would seem so."

Though he probably should have seen this coming, the way that his life had been-- good moments struck down by impossible odds and nearly impassable intrusions-- he'd never truly thought it would come to such an abrupt end after such a short time. He looked at Draco's strained face and then, not knowing where else to seek comfort, he wrapped his arms around him, and was almost surprised to feel Draco respond by holding him back.

Hermione and Ron joined the two, wanting to commiserate with Harry. They tried to whisper encouragements to him, but he was too shocked to really hear them. Harry hid his face in Draco's neck, finding himself seeking comfort instead of providing it.

"Well, I shall go back and after you have made your arrangements, I'll alert you to the optimal time in which to strike." Harry heard Snape's footsteps tap on the hardwood floor, and the whoosh of the Floo that signaled his exit.