Authors Notes: Still really have no idea where this story is going though I've have begun getting some rather tempting suggestions. I still think I'm going to try to keep Harry more or less evil, though it's getting harder as the fic progress. I really do not like Voldemort, and though I have grasped the general idea that it would make more sense for him to team up, rather than kill Harry, making it happen it kind of tricky. Any suggestions are welcome. Much thanks to my personal muse Mel.

Disclaimer: I am not making any money from this fic. All characters belong to J.K.Rowlings. No copyright infringement is intended from this writing. I would also like to thank Rowlings, in light of the recent controversy, for not suing the pants off little fan fiction writers like myself. I am deeply grateful that she and others like her continue to allow writers to test their imaginations through fan fiction.

Born and Bred

Chapter Two, Part One

"So what do you suppose Father will have us doing?"

"Training most likely," Harry muttered darkly.

"Good thing I decided not to wear my good trousers," Draco moaned, aristocratic nose wrinkling at his surrounds. Father and Tom had apparently decided to change the meeting site last minute, and now here they were tromping around in the dark. Through the forest surrounding Malfoy Manor. It was dark, spooky, and altogether too enchanted. The forest was designed by the founder of the manor, and acted as a deterrent to intruders. There were any numbers of dangers lurking within it's dark bosom. Spells that would render one incapable of remembering their own name. Enchantments that could keep a bypasser dancing till they dropped. The closer to the manor the nastier they became, till loss of limb was inescapable. If you were skilled or lucky enough to get past those, chances were you'd most likely caught the attention of the various species of dark creatures vying for a good meal.

Malfoys and 'visitors' were naturally exempt from this unless otherwise told. Either way, Draco was not very courageous when it came down to things he could not see. It certainly did not help him when Harry looked like a very irritable dark creature himself. One that was very hungry indeed.

Harry, however, seemed unperturbed by his surroundings. In fact, to Draco it was like his dark counterpart was a millions miles away, lost in his own head. Sometimes it seemed Harry's thoughts held far nastier surprises than any creepy forest, or dark creature.

"They're training us to kill people, Draco. I doubt very much that it matters what you are wearing," Harry scowled and quickly fell back silent.

Harry chuckled suddenly, and the mirthless sound sent an arc of fear lancing through the blonde. Draco looked over to see his companion peering at him oddly.

"What?" he mumbled self-consciously.

"You're afraid of me?" Harry questioned, turning away.

"I am not afraid of you!" Draco hissed, taken aback. He really shouldn't be surprised. Harry was amazingly adept at reading even the most close-minded of people.

"Yes, you are," Harry spat, malice lacing his voice.

"I am not afraid of you Harry," Draco murmured. "I am afraid of the way your mind works. You're bloody scary when you go off like that."

"So you are afraid of me then," Harry stated quietly.

"Harry, that's not it and you know it."

"My mind is my own, and you fear it. Therefore, you fear me. Whether we like it or not."

Draco could think of nothing to say, so he merely heaved a sigh and shook his head. He walked ahead a couple of steps before he stopped altogether.

Harry paused shortly after and he turned to look at him patiently. The raven haired boy was none to happy, and Draco could feel the hurt and anger that radiated from him. Somehow he knew he had to soothe Harry before they met his father and Tom. An unhappy Harry was a dangerous thing, and Draco had more than enough scars to prove it.

"I just don't understand you anymore," Draco confessed sadly. "Are you happy Harry? Here with us?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"You hardly ever smile anymore, Harry." Draco moved cautiously toward the boy he'd grown up with.

Harry flinched visibly as if Draco had struck him. "You're talking nonsense, Draco," the boy growled menacingly.

"No, I am not . You know I am not. I have known you all my life Harry Potter, and you have never lied to me. This is what I am taking about. What are you hiding from me? What could possibly be so important that it could create this rift between us?"

Harry stood the mute and resistant, but after a moment he smiled. It was nothing more than a mockery of those blindingly, bright smiles from his past. It made Draco want to tear his hair from his head or at least yell at the boy staring at him impassively.

"You've your father's gift with words," was all Harry said.

Draco felt a shaft of white-hot rage spike through him, before he shook the diversion off and forced himself not to rise to the bait. "Clever, Harry, but you are avoiding the issue."

"There is no issue."

Draco clenched his hands into fist and held himself perfectly still. "There is an issue, or we would not be standing here."

"We would not be standing here if you'd keep moving along," Harry spat venomously. Anger seethed beneath emerald green eyes.

"Oh! Look! Another new aspect of Harry. Mood swings! Four hours ago your were perfectly fine and now you look like you're ready to murder me because I am concerned for your well being! You honestly think I am going to believe that nothing is wrong with you?"

The air seemed to go out of Harry all at once. "Draco," he sighed abruptly. "Just drop it…please."

Draco's companion stared at him so pleadingly he could do nothing but comply. Somewhere in the depths of those jade green eyes he could see Harry looking out at him lost and bleeding. "Fine…for now," he conceded hesitantly. "Just promise me you'll tell me whatever it is soon, Harry. Please."

Harry smiled sadly. "I promise."

An uneasy silence settled in the wake of their brief argument. Draco fidgeted nervously, unsettled by the separation he suddenly felt from Harry. Pulling himself quickly together, he tentatively reached out and offered his hand to his childhood friend.

The raven-haired youth stared at the offered limb, before a small but genuine smile ghosted his lips. He took the hand and squeezed it tightly, before relaxing his hold and turning to the blonde expectantly. "Well, shall we?"

"Let's do. I would hate to hear that lecture on fashionable lateness, and just plain tardiness."

"Merlin, no! If I have to hear you Father wax sentimental on making fashionable entrances one more time I am going to Stupefy myself."

Draco tugged Harry close and wrapped an arm around the boy, before he began to lead them along. Suddenly as quick as the world had spun off it's axis, all was right again.

Simply, because The Boy That Lived threw back his head and laughed. Draco tucked himself against Harry's body and relished the sweet, sexy sound.

The brief harmony between the two abruptly ended as soon as they stepped through the trees and came into the specified clearing. There were at least a dozen Deatheaters milling around restlessly. Lucius stood beside a raised platform where a fire burned beneath a large cauldron that was emitting a foul green smoke. Voldemort was seated on a throne atop the dias, leafing through a thick tome ,most likely containing nefarious potion recipes.

Harry slid his hand from Draco's and made his way to Lucius' side. "Are we to be initiated tonight?" he murmured quietly.

Lucius looked him over before turning to glance at Voldemort. "Go see Tom. He's waiting for you," was the only answer Harry received.

If Harry felt any fear he showed none, calmly walking up the steps to the steps to pause by Voldemort's side. "Father?"

Voldemort glanced up and snapped the book shut. "You're late Harry."

"My apologies, Father," Harry mumbled moving to sit by the foot of the throne, and resting his head against Tom's leg. His father in turned rested a hand on his head and began to shift through unruly, ebony locks. "Draco and I got in a fight."

"Ah, I see," Voldemort lifted his adopted son's chin in his withered hand. "Should he be punished?"

Harry shook his head. "No, it was just a silly fight. Perhaps we are spending too much time together, and tire more easily of each other. Something like that."

"Well, in that case, maybe I can arrange a short trip somewhere. Just you and me?"

"Wouldn't that be dangerous though? The few still searching for you, happen to be the most powerful of your opposition. Without your guards? No, the manor is safer."

" Nonsense. I have plenty of secure locations and each have full protective measures."

"Well….maybe we could then…" Harry offered a tentative smile to Tom.

"I'll arrange everything tomorrow. Tonight we have more important things to talk worry about."

"Alright," Harry agreed before shifting a bit to observe the cauldron. "By the way, what are we doing tonight?"

"Hmmm… oh! Bonding ritual. The same that Lucius and I went through several years ago.

"Draco and I are to be bonded?" Harry questioned, turning to frown at the silver siren entertaining the group of salivating Deatheaters.

"Does it not suit you? Is there someone else you wish to consider?"

"No, but…do you think he's right for me?"

Voldemort glanced in the direction of Lucius then his son. "Yes, yes I do. He was born and bred for this. Just as you were born and bred to rule beside me. He is the best candidate. Still, do you wish to refuse the ritual, and choose another?"

"No, I just don't want to see him placed in harms way. That's all."

"Do not worry for him, Harry. His father has tutored him well. Besides, he loves you. For this sort of thing that is a very precious commodity. It will serve to heighten his desire to serve and protect you."

"Alright."

"Shall we begin, my son?"

"I suppose. What do I do?"

"You merely accept, the majority of the bonding spell is performed by Draco. You only need to accede to the ritual. You will now when. Other than that, just sit back and enjoy."

Harry smirked and rose to his feet. "I thought this ritual was painful?"

"Only mildly. A pleasurable sort of pain if the bond was meant to be." Voldemort stood and held up a hand.

"And if it wasn't?"

"Don't dwell on the negative Harry. I wouldn't try anything to harm you."

"Like trying to kill me?" Harry muttered wryly.

"Oh! Come off it. Why so morose as of late?"

"Aren't I always?"

"More so than normal."

"Imagine what I'll be like when I'm old like you."

"You'll never get as old as me. I am going to make you immortal." Voldemort was smiling, but his tone was nothing but serious.

"How?"

"That, dear boy, I am working on."

"Interesting."

"Fascinating," Voldemort grinned. Suddenly he turned to the small gathering, hissing one word. "Silence!" he commanded, a serpentine slither up their spines that immediately quieted all in attendance.

As one the Deatheaters turned and formed a loose circle around the diameter or the large altar. They gazed at the two through the slit eyeholes in their masked patiently, obediently. Lucius pushed his way passed the circle with Draco in tow. The man made his way over to where Voldemort stood and took his place to the left and slightly behind the Dark Lord. Draco stepped to the cauldron and glanced at Harry.

Something deep within those silvery depths made Harry nod and move to the opposite side. The blonde pushed his robes from his shoulders and removed his shirt underneath. Harry did the same.

Pale slender arms reached through the thick green fog of the potion and touched Harry gently. "Do you trust me Harry?"

"Yes," Harry answered immediately.

Long-fingered, dainty hands caress Harry's bare chest, leaving in their wake a trail of blazing fire. Underlying all that Harry could feel the fumes from the potion brewing between them. Draco was rubbing the sickly sweet vapors onto him. It couldn't be seen, but Harry could sense it. It's sticky presence was spreading across the expanse of his bared torso, pushing down past the barrier of clothing, and encasing him.

Draco was whispering now, words Harry couldn't recognize but could feel the latent power behind them. They were pulling at the core of him, calling out to the tight coil of magic buried inside of him. It was eliciting responses Harry knew could be dangerous. He caught Draco's hands by the wrists. "Wait-no!"

"Shush, Harry. Don't be afraid…"

"No. Draco!" Harry hissed. "It's too much!"

The fumes cleared momentarily, and Harry caught a glimpse of Draco. The blonde was shaking, sweat glistening along the lithe lines of his stomach and chest. Silver eyes that had nearly gone black stared back at him.

"This is what I was trained for, Harry. Let yourself go. I'll be here to ground you. Trust me…" Draco's voice sounded like it was carrying across much distance, yet still seem to echo loudly in his companion's ear.

Harry himself began to shake with the force of trying to contain the potions effects and the general fear of himself and his family's welfare. Cautiously, he began to let his barriers fall one by one. Then, abruptly the last ones crashed and all his magic swarmed up through and out from him.

The effects were immediate and explosive. A cry ripped from his throat as the power of his own magic, amplified by the innate magic of everything surrounding them, consumed him. The last thing Harry saw was white hot lightning arcing put of his body, and slamming into Draco, as the cauldron between them exploded littering their surroundings with foul green sludge. Then his world went black.