Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. They belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm not making any money from this in any way.

Slash of the male/male and female/female kind will eventually be appearing in this story. If you don't like slash then please leave. Don't read what you don't like.

Also - I know where there fic is going - but I'm not sure about whether to pair anybody up in it or not. Feedback on this would be really great, especially on who you would like to see together, I'm open for all suggesstions.

Chapter Two

Pictures flashed across the screen illuminating the dark shadows within the large room. Harry sat staring at the television screen – watching footage of Britain at its worse, captured on camera by the Americans when they saved the Survivors.

It was horrific.

But the pictures hardly conveyed the actual horror being there and seeing the Infection run its course in person.

When the footage stopped playing, for about the fifth time today, Harry sighed. The Survivors had been in quarantine for only seven days. One week and it had already felt like month.

People were also getting antsy. The remaining Hogwarts students especially.

A rustle behind broke Harry out of his contemplations and he turned quickly to see Tom standing a few metres away holding a book in his hands.

"I didn't mean to disturb you," Tom ran a hand through his hair, "I couldn't sleep, so I was going to read a bit. I didn't think anybody else would be awake."

Harry just shrugged and shifted in his seat, "I couldn't sleep either."

There was an awkward silence between the two men, before Tom walked forward and fell gracefully into the seat beside Harry. The flickering light from the television cast a bluish glow upon them, illuminating their facial features and glossy dark hair.

"You looked like you were deep in thought Harry." It was a statement, not a question, yet Harry nodded, "I was."

Tom raised an eyebrow, "Care to share what you were thinking?"

Harry shrugged again and flipped his legs over the side of the cushy chair. "That it's good we finally realised we're wizards and transfigured the furniture so it's actually comfortable."

Tom grinned, "I must admit, it was one of my better and more popular ideas." Earlier that day, Tom had finally gotten sick of sitting on cold metal stools, and so proceeded to transfigure all of the furniture. While it wasn't particularly stylish or matching – at least it was finally comfortable to sit down.

"But that wasn't what you were really thinking about Harry, was it?"

Harry heaved a huge sigh, "No, it wasn't." He started to twist his long hair round a finger and looked at Tom, "I was thinking of the tension that has been building up in here over the last few days."

Tom nodded, "So you noticed it as well." This time it was Tom's turn to sigh, "There seems to be a right forming amongst the Hogwarts students. Those who don't trust me but trust you enough when you say I won't harm them and that I'm not really Voldemort. And then those who don't trust you because you trust me." He gave a little grin, "I think most of them were rattled that you even survived the Infection, let alone thrived from it."

A small smiled curved Harry's lips upwards and a wicked little gleam appeared in his eyes, "It was most amusing when Draco announced that the remedial potion lesions I had been having for the past three years were actually Dark Art lesson." A small laugh, "And then the look on their faces when they actually saw me use dark magic… It was priceless."

Tom laughed, but soon turned serious again, "What are we going to do about the tension though. We're still in quarantine for the next three weeks, and while the adults are alright with everything, trouble amongst the children would cause discord."

Harry looked back at the television, "I don't know. We'll have to figure something out soon. Maybe ask Severus for ideas. The children seen to look up to him since he was one of their professors at Hogwarts." Tom nodded his agreement.

The television continued to flicker showing commercials about various exercise machines and Tom studied Harry in the light radiating from it. After a few minutes of silence, Tom shifted in his seat, swinging his legs over one side, reflecting the same position as Harry.

"You realise that they all look up to us," he said casually to Harry, "Like we're the leaders of the Survivors or something."

A bitter look appeared on Harry's face and he twisted his hair harder narrowing his eyes, "Oh – I realise that. Even your former Death Eaters come up to me wanting to have a chat about this and that." He paused, "Not to mention apologising for the various times each one tried to kill or capture me."

Tom's face contorted into a grimace, "Don't I know. The bunch of them, except for Severus, can prattle like little old ladies. And at least you aren't getting hit on by them like I am now."

The two men laughed and descended into a comfortable silence for the rest of the night, Tom reading his book, and Harry flicking through television channels.

It had been two days since they got work out to the other Ministries of Magic about what was happening in Britain. They were starting to loose hope that help or rescue would or could ever come.

Those not afflicted by the Infection within Hogwarts had been holed up in the dungeons for the past ten days – and Severus was getting worried. Each day they were pushed a little bit deeper into the bowels of the castle, the Infected slowly gaining more ground.

It also didn't help that the majority of survivors left were fifth grade or lower. Only a handful of seventh and sixth graders from Slytherin and Ravenclaw remained, with only four adults. And of course Potter and Draco.

Severus mused – without those two, it was likely wouldn't have even lasted this long. Thank god, he had caved in on training them both in the Dark Arts.

Looking round, Severus saw Draco talking a group of younger students through a useful curse that worked on the Infected – one of the few that did. The students had stopped going to Potter and asking for help after a few days. While Potter seemed happy to teach them, his teaching style was similar to Severus' own – demanding and vicious.

So now they went to Draco, who surprisingly, turned out to be a very competent teacher.

Searching for Potter, he found the messy black hair bent close in with two red heads – obviously discussing tactics with the last two remaining Weasley's, Bill and George, for their upcoming shift at the barricades.

It had been found that the Infected did not need sleep or rest. So attacks were continuous against the ramshackle barricades. So the remaining adults and older students were paired in two or threes and a shift rotation roster had been created, with at least two people guarding the barricades at a time.

So far it had worked.

But it was only a matter of time before the Infected would break through.

Severus could only hope that help and rescue arrived before then.

The Americans wanted a report written up about the Infection. Remus and Bill had taken charge of it – but unfortunately neither of them knew how to use the laptop given to them for the task. So, somehow they had coerced George into typing up their notes, which they had complied by interviewing the Survivors for information. He knew that learning how to use muggle technology would backfire on him one day.

"Ok. So George, first we need the section about the possible origins of the Infection. Ideas about its biology, genetics and magical makeup are next, then the part about transmission, the phases of Infection, and its final outcome. After that is the final section discussing its affects upon different people and creatures, especially the differences between Light and Dark wizards and witches. Luckily we don't have to worry about the Infections affect upon pure muggles since we don't have any in quarantine with us to talk to…"

George zoned Remus' lecturing out, concentrating on typing from the notes without taking any of the information in. Most of it was beyond his comprehension, not understanding much about biology or genetics.

Finally when Remus stopped and before Bill could start listing the things Remus may have forgotten, he asked, "Who do the Americans need this information anyway? What use is any of this stuff in fighting the Infection?"

Remus and Bill both gave him condescending looks, but before either could answer his question, an aristocratic drawl answered for them, "If we can get an idea of anything about the origins and transmission, but especially its biological and magical makeup, then there is a better chance of creating a cure for it, or finding better ways to fight and counteract against it."

George looked up from the laptop, to the older Malfoy standing in front of him and gawked. Who would have though Malfoy would know about stuff like this?

Remus instantly latched onto the slightly older man and pulled him into a seat between himself and Bill asking his opinion on some topic of debate between the two of them.

Oh great, George thought as he started typing from the notes again, another intellect enthusiast.