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I tried not to wake my wife as I got into bed but she sat up, sharply.
"Where have you been?"
"Nowhere."
"You've been to see the boys haven't you?"
"No! I went to the loo, that's all."
"Rubbish. You've been gone all night. You went to see them didn't you? You went to see Harry."
"Cissa…okay…I'll tell you the truth. You won't believe it but here it is. I had a dream about him. I was sleeping in the spare room; I needed some time away from everybody. But then I had this dream and when I woke up I could hear the noises. Yes, I went to them, but I didn't go in. I watched for a few seconds, that's all."
"And that makes it okay? Lucius, he's seventeen! You're a married, respectable man! You can't just go crazy for your son's boyfriend." I hung my head.
"I know, I know. The problem is, at the start I let the Silacore charm get into my head…and now I can't forget him. I feel so trapped. He came to see me about it actually. God I'm such a fucking idiot."
"Shh, calm down. Listen to me Lucius. When you look at him you've got to remember 'he's not human'. That's what I had to do. Because he isn't. Not that that makes a difference to Draco but it does to us. He's not a human, Lucius."
Not a human…the most beautiful…not a human. It helped. A very little, but it did. I slumped down and focused on that thought alone. My wife turned over and I attempted to fall asleep. When I did, I dreamed again. It was the same dream as before, Harry came to me and took off his clothes, but this time, under his robe was not the perfect smooth skin of the previous dream Instead he was scaly, and small, bat-like, ugly wings protruded from his back. The horrible disfigurement rose up into his face, gave him fangs, and made him a monster. It stood before me, bow legged, offering its disgusting self. I sent it away. It put on the robe and its face and stature became Harry's again, still I shooed away from me, attempting to push it from my mind.
I awoke and it was morning. And I caught myself thinking, 'what is his Silacore form?'
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It was like I had borrowed somebody else's brain. I liked Harry. He was nice, funny, smart and good-looking, but from then on I couldn't find any desire to go close to him or touch him or even feel about him sexually. I found myself staring rapturously at my wife again and thought-how could anybody ever prefer a teenage boy to such a beautiful, intelligent, caring woman? The four of us could now do all sorts of things, we could have snowball fights, go out together, one morning, new years' day, Draco and Harry even came in and bounced on our bed, snuggling in with us and talking non-stop. It was like somebody had brought our family to life.
There was just one thing that worried me. Voldemort had now asked for Draco twice and I had not brought Draco to him. I couldn't see how I could with Harry there. But the dark lord was not somebody to be disobeyed. I knew he would send somebody to fetch him soon. And I just hoped and prayed that they would come after Draco had gone back to school.
No such luck. The very night before they were due to leave, we were sitting eating diner. It was a pleasant meal, and, although they would miss us, I knew the boys were longing to get back and see everybody at school again. Suddenly we heard the violent bangs of two people apparating in the hall. I stood up sharply, pulling my wand from my belt, but they were too quick. Two masked death eaters entered the room, looked around, spotted Draco and came sprinting towards him, their wands trained on him. One grabbed his wrists and held them above his head as they both pushed him against the wall.
"Think you can just disobey summons like that, do you? No, brat. The dark lord likes his followers at his side where and when he wants them-as you will soon find out. And he misses his plaything. The voice was harsh, and, as he finished his last sentence he grabbed Draco at his balls and jerked his hand upwards. I stepped forward to intervene, but was distracted by something enormous that shot over the table, nearly taking my wife's head off and latched onto the man's back. It was like a boy but huge, its hair was waist length and flying behind it in some non-existent wind. It was very beautiful and two huge, radiant wings sprouted out of its shoulders. Its hands and feet were weirdly large and it had five long claws that were slowly sinking into the man's back.
The man screamed, as though he had been struck by lightning. The thing, whatever it was, surrounded by a ring of flame that just hung in the air, sparking and crackling now turned upon the second death eater, who attempted to throw a stunning spell at the creature. It merely rebounded off its radiant skin and the man's wand was swallowed by a tongue of fire. The man ran then, ran screaming from the room. Draco had flattened himself against the wall, not sure whether to be more terrified or relieved. Then the thing sank back to the ground. Its wings began to shrink. It grew shorter and its hair was getting shorter by the second. In less than five seconds Harry stood, panting and naked in front of Draco, who ran to him, terrified and the two of them sank to the floor. My wife and I stood, stunned, staring at the pair on the floor. Draco was the first to speak.
"What did you do to him?" He gestured to the man, still lying motionless on the floor. Harry's voice shook slightly as he spoke.
"I poisoned him. He's dead." They went over to the dead man and Harry ripped the back of his robes off to reveal ten, long, bloody scratches. Everybody but Harry in the room gasped. The blood was black. Harry turned him over and pulled off his mask. The man's skin was grey, his eyes wide and terrified. It was Rookwood. Harry began to shake. "I killed a man…I killed a man…" he tuned to Draco and sobbed into his shoulder. Draco took off his jacket and wrapped and tied it around Harry's waist to grant him some modesty. Nobody knew what to say. There as nothing to say.
He had killed a man.
"Don't Silacores have the power to heal?" I asked.
"Yes, but even we can't reverse death. The poison is instantaneous. He was dead long before I transformed back." There was a very long silence. Then Draco spoke, and his words cut into me like a knife.
"Well that's it then. We're against him. Open war." He looked up at me. "What are you going to do, father?"
"I…don't know. I don't think I want to be on any 'side'. I don't agree with either. But this is it, isn't it Harry?"
"This is what?"
"The prophesy. This then is your power over the dark lord. If he wants to kill you, he'll have to do better than spells." Harry nodded slowly. "I think you should go to bed, boys. I want to discuss this with your mother, and you boys have to be up early tomorrow. Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
"'Night father." They left and I turned to my wife with a grave face. She was white and shaking, staring at Harry's ripped clothes lying in a pile on the floor.
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Neither of us got any sleep that night. We sat up in bed, leaning against the pillows. We discussed the war to come a little, but mostly just sat in silence. We got up around five and went down to the kitchens for some food. Harry ate his breakfast but threw it up in the bathroom a few minutes later. He was very white and shaking all morning and even when we got into the ministry car to go back to Hogwarts, he gripped the car door handle, his knuckles white and just stared out of the window, stiffly. Nobody dared to speak to him.
When we arrived at the station however he hugged and kissed my mother and father goodbye and thanked them for everything they'd done, before boarding the train with me. We gazed at each other, uncertain of whether we should sit together or not.
"Do you want to…come with me?" he said eventually. I nodded and he began to lug his trunk down the train. When we reached the last compartment he pushed the door open and threw his trunk into the luggage rack. The compartment was empty. "We always sit here," he explained, moving to help me with my trunk. We both sat down and leaned back in our seats, unsure of how to sit. We would never have sat like this outside a public place. Harry solved my problem but spinning around so he was facing the opposite way and then lying across me to we were face to face, embracing each other. He lay back across my lap before speaking very suddenly.
"That was the first man I've ever killed."
"Harry…you shouldn't feel guilty…"
"I know! He was a bad man, and a death eater and he was threatening my mate. But I do feel guilty!!!" He sat up sharply and turned back around.
"Harry…I'm sorry. But you know you're going to need to kill people. You were born for it. I know you don't want to and it's not your fault! But you…you were born to kill death eaters and to kill Voldemort. You can't be like this forever. You have to…move on. You cleaned the world of some human scum. It might be hard, but you'll have to accept it." He lay back against me again, all the fight going out of him.
"You're right, Ray…I dunno…I just…need some time to adjust to being a murderer." I took him in my arms so that our cheeks pressed together. He breathed slowly and gently into my ear. Tenderly he touched my ear and ran his hand down my neck. Then he picked up a piece of my hair and began to play with it, twisting it and letting it spring back. Just as he moved to kiss me lightly on the cheek, the compartment door rattled and we sprang apart.
Harry's friend, Hermione almost fell into the compartment, dragging her trunk and followed by Ron sprawling in after her. They stopped short when they saw me and I immediately had misgivings. Harry jumped up and running over to them, wrapped the girl in his arms and hugged her very tightly, crying,
"Hermione! I missed you! How are you guys? I didn't think you'd be here!" He let go of her and picked up her trunk, throwing it into the rack as the Weasley boy did the same before greeting him warmly also. "Come and sit down and tell me about your Christmas! Did you have a fabulous time?" Ron still looked a little awkward but Hermione answered, throwing me a small smile before she did so.
"Well, Mrs Weasley invited us both back to Ron's house for Christmas and so we went back there and then spent some time in Diagonalley before we came here. That's about it really. She invited you to, but we told her you were at…Draco's house." Harry smiled grimly.
"Bet she loved that."
"Well…no. I mean she's not angry she just…was very surprised…but we've spoken to her and she understands now." She turned to me, "she wants to meet you actually but we told her we'd hardly met you yet."
"Well…you'd met me but…not properly. Can we start again as though we've never met before?" Hermione nodded and I extended my hand to her. "Hello. My name's Draco, I'm Harry's boyfriend as of September and I enjoy charms, potions and flying, though I'm no patch on Harry of course." She grinned at my mini introduction and replied,
"Hi, I'm Hermione, I'm Harry's friend as of six years ago and Ron's girlfriend as of last May. I like reading and potions, but I'm an abysmal flyer." I laughed and Harry laughed. Ron however, did not. He held out his hand, awkwardly and said,
"Hello Draco. I'm Ron. I like flying too but I hate potions and I'm slightly homophobic and am still coming around to the idea of you and my best friend Harry being a couple." I shook his hand and tried to smile at him.
"Well…I guess that's okay. I have been a bit of a bastard. But…I really do love Harry…I'm not going to…you know…mess him around." Harry laughed.
"Yes…you're a good boy." Even Ron laughed at that and the ice was broken. We spend the rest of the journey playing exploding snap and eating whatever food we had purchased from the food trolley. Really, they were not that bad. Ron was a bit short with me at times but otherwise the four of us got on very well. I only hoped that Harry would get on with my friends equally well.
It wasn't until the following weekend that the four of us had a chance to talk together again. Hermione conjured a magical fire in one of the classrooms and we sat around it, huddling together. It was then we told them about Harry's transformation. They listened quietly, not taking their eyes from my face as I recounted the story. It felt good to have it off my chest, especially to such willing ears. When I'd finished however, I saw a few tears forming in Harry's eyes. Hermione and Ron's eyes followed mine and they moved to comfort him. Mustering all the strength I could to not go over and comfort, kiss, reassure my mate, or even to let the others do it for me, I instead looked at Harry seriously.
"Harry…You mustn't cry. You know why."
"Yes…I'm…I've got to be a killer now." Hermione gasped and looked at my reproachfully. Ron however had a steely look in his eyes also and nodded to me.
"Yes. You're a killer now. Draco's right. Don't forget that." Harry leaned into my shoulder but stopped crying. I squeezed his shoulder and kissed the top of his head. The war was coming.
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When I went to Draco that night we did not make love. Instead we had a very late dinner, and then showered together before returning to his bedroom to dry each other carefully. Draco massaged my head as he dried my hair and whispered soft, gentle words into my ears. Then we fell into bed together, naked and exhausted and just lay against each other, feeling comfortable and exhilarated and alive all at once. I gently stroked his sides, savouring his firm, soft, milky skin under my fingers and like that, we fell asleep.
I awoke on Sunday morning in Draco's arms, his breathing measured and relaxed. He looked so beautiful that I just wanted to kiss him and wake him, but instead I slipped out of bed, pulled on some jeans, a t-shirt and a pair of socks, went up to breakfast and grabbed Draco's favourite things; coffee, a croissant and an orange and some toast for me before sprinting back down into the dungeons and to Draco. Slipping back into his room, I smiled to see him still asleep. I set his breakfast out on his bedside table, and my toast on mine, before stripping off all my clothes again and sliding in to kiss his eyelashes and touch his hair and wake him as sweetly as I knew how. He woke up smiling at my light kisses tickling him and pulled me at once into a soft kiss.
When we broke apart I leaned across him to pick up his breakfast and proceeded to feed it to him. Then he drank his coffee as I ate my toast and then, full and comfortable, we sank back into each other's arms. We kissed again, though this time not so softly. I could feel his arms around me, his hands touching me everywhere. I wanted him so much. This time, when we made love, we did it slowly, lovingly, each touch a gentle caress, every move backwards and forward a rubbing of our bodies against each other and each time he pushed forward he would kiss me. And when he came I thought I would die with the pleasure of it; making love with Draco was such a beautiful intimate thing.
We spend the rest of the morning in bed, gently touching and kissing and drifting in and out of sleep. I was so happy; I could not imagine anything could break this spellbound perfection between me and my mate.