Well, it took a minute and it's a little late but here it is – a wonderful Christmas present for my wonderful fans.

Disclaimer: You know the drill. So depressing.

Warning: slash, yaoi, boy/boy, Mpreg and such. Don't like don't read. Real simple. Also, Draco/Harry and all other canons.

Flash Warning: This chapter may contain sexual content not intended for children under the thirteen. You have been warned!

Hope you enjoy! This chapter is why this story is rated M!

Chapter 8: Of Acts of Denial and Conversations Over Tea

Harry jerked awake with a gasp, panting harshly and covered in cold sweat, his most recent dream still hovering tantalizingly around the edges of his mind. A flash of hot air and a feel of lingering touches had him groaning seconds later, and he pulled his knees up to his chest so that he could rest his head against them with his hands in his hair.

Malfoy, Harry thought and his mouth twitched with the bitter amusement of the situation he suddenly found himself in. Here he was, after spending the whole day in the blonde's company, and yet he was now dreaming about the aristocrat. It seemed liked Harry's own mind was trying to drive him insane – taunting him with erotic pictures of Malfoy that would leave him highly aroused and wanting.

Was there no longer any semblance of peace in his life, he found himself wondering and then he cursed the creature blood that he knew ran through his veins.

His hands dropped out of his hair and his head fell back against the wooden headboard of his four-poster bed.

Harry let out a sigh and closed his eyes wearily, hoping to shake off the lasting effects of his all-too-vivid dream.

He could still feel those ghosting fingers running over his body and see those lust-filled eyes gazing at him.

Harry groaned again, his eyes snapping open as he felt his arousal grow. He shifted uncomfortably, his face pinched together. He then cast his mind around for some thought or image that would help to get rid of his painful erection because he would not – could not resort to adolescent means. That was beyond embarrassing and would be like giving in – into what, he really didn't know. And he definitely didn't want to do that while his kids were in the same room, sleeping or not.

Snape in a Speedo, Snape in a Speedo, Harry thought seriously – and desperately – and then let out a sigh of relief when his erection disappeared without a trace. Snape was probably rolling around in his grave and cursing Harry to the deepest pit in hell right now for using his image to help the Boy-Who-Lived get rid of an erection for his godson, but Harry didn't really care, as long as it got rid of the problem.

Harry found himself relaxing against the headboard and his eyes dropped with drowsiness; but after a few minute of remaining like this, the Savior realized that sleep was once more lost to him. Knowing he would not be able to fall back asleep without some kind of incentive, Harry got reluctantly out of bed, a cup of tea on his mind.

The floor was cold under his feet, serving to wake him up further, but Harry moved on.

As he passed where his kids were sleeping on his way to the door, he found himself stopping so that he could simply watch them.

Lily and Lucian were curled up on either side of Teddy; both were clinging to one of his arms. Even in sleep the twins clung to Teddy like was a shared toy. Harry often found himself marveling over how the twins seemed to look up to the child-metamorphagus, almost like he really was their older brother.

With a fond smile on his lips and a shake of his head, Harry crept silently past them and out of the room. He made sure to close the door behind him before he moved down the hall.

The house was mostly silent, save for the odd creaks and groans here and there and the loud ticking of the many clocks Hermione had taken to installing. One of them proclaimed the time to be 2:11 when Harry passed by it.

Three hours before Molly wakes, Harry thought as he walked past several sleeping portraits of past Weasleys that lined the hall, and another two before Hermione.

Harry's lips twitched into a smile at the thought of one of his best friend. Even though they had long since graduated from Hogwarts some six years ago, Hermione still persisted to wake up at seven in the morning. Harry honestly couldn't understand how Ron stood it.

Hell, he had trouble getting up in the mornings and he actually was going to school.

Harry chuckled and shook his head once more, not even noticing the door to the right of him creaking open. So lost in his thought he was that he definitely didn't notice the arms until they had reached out and grabbed hold of him, pulling him into the dark room.

The door shut rather ominously behind him.

Harry immediately began to struggle, twisting and turning and swatting at the hands, but they were locked firmly around his waist like steel bands.

"W-what are you doing," Harry demanded furiously at the stranger, only remembering to whisper at the last minute. The hands were roaming now, down his sides and across his chest, trying to find some way under his shirt.

A low chuckled drifted into Harry's ear.

"I do believe we were interrupted last time," Malfoy whispered sensually, his warm breath tickling Harry's ear. His voice was low and smooth like velvet and it had Harry freezing in startled shock – it was just his luck that the object of his unrest had literally caught him out wander in the early morning.

Malfoy's arms settled more firmly around Harry's waist, drawing him flush against a well-toned body. Malfoy's hands finally seemed to make their way under Harry's shirt and the Savior was startled out of his shock when he felt those cold fingers against his flushed chest.

"W-wait," Harry gasped, trying to twist away from Draco's hands. "Wait, w-we shouldn't be doing this."

"Why not, hmm? The secret's out; we no longer have anything to hide. And no one will be shocked to see us together."

Harry's eyes fluttered and he let out a breathy sigh as Draco ran that sinful tongue over the shell of his ear.

The Savior was finding it hard to concentrate.

Draco was clouding his mind with those hands that moved across his chest – tweaking his nipples – and that warm mouth that was pressing fluttered kisses to a spot beneath Harry's ear that had him mewling in delight.

"Mmm . . . I can't . . . I can't be doing this right now," Harry said on another breathy sight. It was a weak protest – a very weak one at that – and Draco knew it because even as Harry said the words his body was relaxing into the embrace.

"So you say," Draco murmured in a smug voice as he ran his lips down Harry's smooth neck. An electric shiver sprinted up Harry's spine and he titled his head to the side to give the blonde better access to his neck. "And yet here you still are."

It should be a crime for someone to sound so seductive. Harry thought, finally giving in and twisting around so that he was facing the taller man.

The room was cloaked in darkness so that Harry could only make put Draco's silver eyes – turned smoky with lust.

Harry was struck for a moment at the fact that his dream seemed to have simply come to life – but the thought was quickly chased from his mind when Draco pulled him into a searing kiss.

Harry twisted his head to the side so that his glasses didn't press painfully into his face – and so that he could get a better feel of the blonde's lips on his. Tongues battled furiously in a dance that made Harry's knees weak and his mind blank. He didn't even notice that Draco was pushing him backward until the back of his legs hit the edge of the bed.

Harry fell backward with a startled "Oomph," and blinked owlishly up at the man standing over him.

His heart flipped nervously in his chest – beating wildly like a hummingbird's wings – seeing Draco looming over him like that, in all his aristocratic glory. It was both so excitingly thrilling and painfully frightening that Harry found himself trying to scramble away before he could even consciously register the thought.

Draco wouldn't allow him to, however – which was to be expected.

He pushed Harry back once more and climbed on top of the man, straddling his waist and pinning his arms above his head. Harry swallowed thickly and tried to squirm from out under the Malfoy. The Savior could all too easily feel the other man's arousal pressing into his thigh, and he could fell his own erection twitching to life.

"I really shouldn't be doing this," Harry tried to protest again, but all that managed to leave his mouth was some garbled nonsense.

"Shh, relax Harry," Draco purred as he placed kisses along Harry's jaw. "I won't hurt you."

That's what scares me, Harry thought with a start. Tears prickled in his eyes at the sudden realization and he tried desperately to fight off the emotion slowly creeping up on him.

He could not do this right now of all times.

"Harry," Draco murmured almost lovingly, commanding Harry's attention again.

He let Harry's hands go and moved his own hands to cup Harry's face, gazing down into his eyes deeply. Something foreign gleamed in those silver orbs, something Harry was very much reluctant to acknowledge. Draco's fingers moved, lifting Harry's glasses away from his face so that his vision turned blurry, but Harry could still feel his intense gaze.

And then Draco leaned in and kissed Harry sweetly, his lips lingering rather lazily against the Savior's.

Harry's resolved crumbled away right then and there and he almost cried at the thought of it.

Draco was still murmuring his name as he placed fluttering kisses around Harry's face before settling against the Savior's lips once more.

Harry sighed, lifted his arms, and warped them around the blonde's neck – bringing them closer together – and his hands went into Draco's soft hair. A few tears slipped unchecked down Harry's cheek as he rode that luxurious wave of sweet passion with the ex-Slytherin.

Draco's hands moved away from Harry's face, over his chest, down his sides, and then up under Harry's shirt. Harry shivered in delicious delight, arching up into the touch.

Draco smirked into the kiss and moved to remove Harry's shirt, making sure to drag his knuckles over the tanned skin as he did so. For a moment he simply gazed down at Harry, his fingers ghosting over the snake twisting on the Savior's forearm, and then ran his fingers over Harry's nipples and the dark-haired man had to bit his lip to keep the moan from escaping.

"It's okay to let it go, Harry," Draco whispered as he licked a path after his wandering fingers. Harry had never thought his own name could sound so sexual, then again just about everything that left Draco's mouth sounded sexual. "Come on love, I want to hear that beautiful voice of yours."

Harry groaned and arched upward but Draco pulled back teasingly – making sure to keep his ministrations light.

"S-someone . . . nh . . . might hear," Harry panted in response to Draco. He moved rather restlessly against the man, wanting – no needing the blonde to apply more pressure to his touches. His whole body felt aflame.

". . . I don't . . . I don't want— ah," Harry cried out in obvious pleasure as Draco reached down and squeezed him – hard. Harry's entire body arched up into the touch and the blonde licked his lips wantonly.

"I put up a silencing charm," the aristocrat told Harry with a wicked grin as he squeezed Harry again. "No one will hear, and if they do – oh well."

Harry groaned, not even paying the blonde's words much attention. He ran his hand down Draco's back and gripped his hips, trying to press their erections together to get more of that delicious feeling – but Malfoy kept pulling back, teasing Harry.

"Bloody tease," Harry growled.

"That's the point."

Harry moaned and moved his arms back to grab at Draco's shoulders. The slightly older man hadn't been wearing a shirt and Harry could feel all of that smooth skin wrapped tightly over taunt muscles. It was absolutely flawless, except for the few scars that Harry guessed might have come from the one day in the bathroom in sixth year. The thin little scars didn't mare the beauty that was Draco Malfoy, though.

Harry was so lost in the marveling over how perfect Draco was that he didn't notice the Malfoy pulling off his boxers until the blonde had wrapped his fingers firmly around Harry's hard-on.

Harry gasped as a jolt went through his system and he arched up into the other man's hand reflectively.

Draco leaned in once more to capture Harry's next lusty moan, his tongue running over Harry's slightly swollen lower lip.

"Hmm," Harry hummed, moving his hands to Draco's cheeks. He panted heavily against Draco's lips when he felt a penetrating finger enter him.

Draco kissed him again, plunging his tongue into Harry's mouth, running it over his teeth, the roof of his mouth, and dancing with the other's tongue in heated passion. Harry moved his hand from Draco's face, running them over Draco's broad shoulders and then around his neck.

Another finger penetrated him, moving in and out.

Liquid heat pooled down into Harry's stomach, increasing ever so steadily with ever stroke of his erection.

Harry's vision was hazy, but his eyes weren't exactly open so it didn't really matter.

And then Malfoy was pulling away and Harry whimpered at the loss of contact.

His eyes fluttered open and he watched as Draco scooted in between his legs and pressed his erection to Harry's entrance.

"You ready," Draco asked him in a husky voice, panting just slightly. "I won't do it unless you want to."

Harry was immediately struck with a memory from four years ago and Draco saying the exact same thing.

"I'm always ready," Harry whispered as he had then. Recognization flashed in Draco's eyes before he smirked and then pushed in slowly.

"Oh," Harry breathed out on a huge gush of air.

The pain was just as he remembered – sharp and pointed – and it had his eyes prickling, but in the next moment Draco was all the way in and the pain was gone.

Draco drew in a sharp breath and closed his eyes in rapture.

"Dear Merlin, you're tight," the blonde groaned as he pulled out slowly. Harry tried to chuckle but it came out more like a choked sob. He reached out blindingly for the blonde, needing some sort of leverage as he felt himself speeding toward the end.

He was riding a rollercoaster with sharp turns and dizzying spins. Colors blurred behind his closed eyelids as he rode wave after wave.

Then Draco slammed home, pounding into Harry's prostate with vigor.

Harry came violently, screaming Draco's name as his vision went completely white and the rollercoaster took a vicious dive.

Draco came only a few seconds after him, filling him with hot liquid that made his toes curl.

They rode the wave down from their orgasm together before Draco pulled out and collapsed bonelessly beside Harry on the bed. Harry smiled drowsily and curled himself into the blonde's side. Draco allowed him to – after muttering a wandless cleaning spell – and wrapped his arm around the Savior.

Then he leaned down and dropped a kiss on Harry's forehead, right on top of his scar.

"Oh, how I love you, Harry James Potter," the blonde said on a sigh.

Harry was floored and he felt that unwanted emotion from before swept over him and clogged his throat. Tears prickled in his eyes and warmth spread through his body.

Draco noticed and wiped away a few of the tears that had escaped with his thumb, a soft, barely-there, smile on his face.

"I love you too," Harry whispered back before burying his face into Draco's chest out of embarrassment of the words he just said.

He completely missed the blinding smile that lit up Draco's face, though.

Draco was smiling slightly when he walked into the kitchen that morning and it did not affect his mood any when he found it packed with Weasleys – and the Lovegood oddity.

A slight smile was about as close to a grin as the Malfoy would give being in present company, and he had a lot to grin about this morning – giving what he had woken up to.

A peacefully sleeping Harry, hair still tousled from the shag he had just that morning, and looking sinfully innocent. Draco had to escape quickly or he'd wake Harry so that they could go another round.

Draco mentally shook his head and took to ignoring the Weasel and Weaseltte's glare that followed him around the room as he went about gathering breakfast from the wide spread put out over every single counter space. Mrs. Weasley, the older that is, had obviously gone overboard that morning – or maybe she cooked like this every day given the amount of people she was used to housing.

Draco was just thinking about going back to his room with his breakfast and watching Harry sleep some more – that certainly sounded like a wonderful way to start the day – when someone called out to him.

"Malfoy?"

Draco had to hold his tongue to keep the groan he wanted to release from escaping – Malfoys didn't groan.

"Yes, Gran—Hermione," Draco asked in his most polite tone, realizing only at the last moment that she was no longer a Granger and he couldn't exactly address her by Weasley seeing as just about everyone in the room was one.

Hermione blinked, taken aback for a moment before she composed herself.

"I was just wondering if you'd happen to know where Harry is. He wasn't in his room when I went to check this morning and I have some things I want to run by him."

"As a matter of fact, I do happen to know where Potter is," Draco drawled, a smirk stretching his lips and giving him his famed cocky expression. His eyes flickered over to the Weaseltte's as he said, "He's currently in my room . . . sleeping."

The Weaseltte's mouth dropped open in shock and beside her, Weasel coughed, choking on his pumpkin juice. Both of their faces had turned as red as their hair – just as Draco expected it to be. Someone from behind him snicker – that twin Weasley most probably.

"Oh," Hermione said in a bemused tone and her face only turned slightly pink. "Well, in that case I guess I can let him sleep in for a bit more."

Draco shrugged not really caring about what she did or didn't do – he'd already had his morning fun – and turned to leave again.

"Wait a moment Fer—Malfoy," Weasel suddenly called to him.

Draco turned and watched in a bored manner as Weasel got up from his seat so that he could approach him. The pureblooded blonde sighed and gathered all of his patience in preparation for whatever the weasel had to say.

"Look, I don't like you," the weasel started, a scowl fixed on his freckled face. "You're a right git and a prat at that. And I know you don't exactly like me much either. But none of that really matters much because Harry does like you, Merlin knows why —"

"Well they do say there's a fine line between love and hate," Draco threw in helpfully, if only to get the red-head to stop babbling.

Weasel blinked, obviously having not expected Draco to add anything. He shot Hermione a look, a weird sort of expression flashing across his face for a quick moment before it vanished completely, leaving his face curiously blank.

"Right, well my whole point is," the weasel went on, and that familiar scowl came over that blank face that was, quite frankly, creeping Draco out. He took a step forward so that he was standing on a few inches away, and he poked Draco in the chest.

"If you hurt Harry, Malfoy – whether physically or mentally . . . if you break his heart – you'll have to answer to me first, and then there's hundreds more behind me. Get it?"

Draco had to struggle to squash down the immediate reaction to make some kind of scathing comment, but he did it. Swallowing his pride he responded with a soft, "Got it."

"Good," Weasel intoned, but he looked a little skeptical so Draco added, "Don't worry. I don't plan on hurting Harry in any way, shape, or form whatsoever."

Shock flashed across the red-head's face this time, his and everyone else in the room save for Lovegood.

"Uncle Draco," a small voice called to him from behind, breaking the blonde from his observation of everyone's reaction to his kind words.

Draco turned around to see the three kids standing in the hall leading to the kitchen – each dressed in their jammies and looked very much like adorable children. The twins were looking rather drowsy, each clinging to one of Teddy's sleeves – Lucian was even wiping sleep from his eyes.

Lily yawned widely before she caught sight of him, then her entire face lit up with a smile. She held her arms out and rushed over to him.

Draco bent down and scooped her into his arms, smiling softly at the blonde three-year-old.

"Good morning, Father," Lily greeted him, fixing those wonderful green eyes onto his. "Do you think you can help me fix my hair," she then asked, tilting her head a little. Draco let his eyes drift up to all that blonde hair that was splayed about her head and let out a low chuckle.

"I most certainly can," he told her and then proceeded to walk over to one of the slightly empty counters.

He sat her down on it and began to fiddle with her hair; casting spells he knew would help tame it and then fixing it into two pig-tails tied with a green ribbon. Lily beamed at him when it was done and then requested some breakfast.

A few minutes – and several reminders to Teddy that it was 'Cousin Draco' and not 'Uncle Draco' – later, Draco had all three kids seated at the breakfast nook eating a carefully put together meal.

While he had been doing that the room had slowly cleared of Weasleys until only the weasel, Hermione, that one twin, and Lovegood was left. They, that being the Weasel, were watching him with a considering expression.

"What?"

Weasel shook his head and shrugged.

Draco glared at him a little bit before figuring it didn't matter all that much.

A tap at the kitchen window drew his attention then, and he turned to look only to shake his head and sigh.

The Malfoy eagle owl was at the window, and from the color of its stomach, Draco had to guess that it was his mother's.

Hermione let the owl in and it flew over to Draco, land on the table in from of him with an arrogant tilt to its head. Draco rolled his eyes at the display before removing the letter and offering Averill a bit of toast.

The Malfoy crest – a Dragon spewing fire and curled around a single star – was stamped in wax over the seal of the letter.

Draco stared at it for a moment before breaking it and pulling out the letter inside. His mother's elegant writing looked up at him, and without preamble, he began to read.

It said:

My little Dragon,

Where are you today? You've missed out on dinner for two days straight and that is not like you. Has something happened? Are those reporters harassing you again? You know you can tell me or your father, we worry about you. Please reply soon – you're driving your dear mother spare. I would also like to chat with you; we don't seem to do that much lately. Maybe some tea soon?

Your mother

Draco sighed once again when he had finished reading the letter.

He had quite forgotten that he had had a dinner scheduled with his parents – worrying about Potter seemed to always push all other thoughts from his mind. Well, he'd have to deal with his mother sooner rather than later, no need to drive her into an early grave with worry – like her older sister, Andromeda.

Draco looked up to see Hermione watching him curiously. He ignored her, turning instead to her husband – why she married him of all people he'd never know.

"Weasel, do you mind if I use your office – you do have an office, right?" the weasel nodded. "Good. I have some business to take care of, so do you mind?"

At this he shrugged and then motioned for Draco to follow, which the blonde did without another word.

"Here it is," the weasel then said a few minutes later, waving at the dark wood door located at the end of a very much deserted hall. It was the only door on this hall – a hall that was completely bare save for the odd portrait here or there of some kind of landscape – which Draco thought was weird, but he kept the comments to himself.

The room itself was wide spaced, a large cherry-oak desk taking up the center of the room. It sat in front of the fireplace, over which hung a portrait of the entire Weasley clan, minus the dead twin, Harry and Hermione. A thick black circular rug sat in front of the desk, covering a good portion of the marble floor. A large book shelf took up the left wall, books filling it to the brim. Near the bookshelf was a sitting area furnished with black leather armchairs and loveseat. A large window took up most of the right wall, giving view to the back garden where herbs and flowers bloomed aplenty.

It was an overall well put together room and Draco had a good suspicion that Hermione was the one to do it.

"Thanks Weasel."

The red-head merely grunted and left, closing the door behind him. After he was gone, Draco walked over to the fireplace and threw in some glittering Floo powder.

"Malfoy Manor," he called into the green flames.

When Tohru awoke, it was with a splitting headache, a dry taste in her mouth, and an uncomfortable stiffness in her shoulders. Her mind was sluggish and foggy – almost as if she had been drinking, which she most certainly had not been – and she felt like she had beat her head against something extremely hard repeatedly.

For a long time she simply laid there on some kind of hard surface – all her weight pressed down on that one stiff shoulder – as she allowed her mind to fully awake. When she felt reasonably conscious, she pushed herself up into a sitting position and looked around.

She was completely alone in a darkened room – everything from the floor to the ceiling to the walls seemed to be made of hard, cold stone. The chamber – Tohru decided that it wasn't a room at all but a chamber – was kind of claustrophobic-like. Tohru had just enough space that she was would be able to stretch out her legs if she was lying down.

There was only one window; it had rusty steel bars over it and was set so far up that Tohru felt like she was looking up from a very deep well. A few feet away from where she sat, was a solid wooden door, a circular, heavy metal ring set into it for a handle.

Tohru shifted about, thinking of maybe walking toward to the door so that she could find out where she was, only to find herself quite stuck. She pulled at her arms insistently, trying to bring them around from behind her back, and it took a minute for her to realize her hands were bound by thick ropes.

Panic seized hold of her as she tried to think of a reason why anyone would want to tie her up. She could come up with none – she'd done nothing wrong from what she could remember.

Had she maybe been kidnapped? Tohru wondered as she leaned back against the wall behind her.

Dizziness swept over her for a moment, making the room spin slightly.

She was cold, her body was stiff, and her stomach was pinched together with hunger – letting out little growls ever odd interval.

How long had she been out, she wondered when her head had stopped spinning and her mind had settled again. It had to have been a while if she was getting dizzy from lack of nutrients. But then where exactly was she? Why was she here – wherever here was? What had happened at the hospital; that was where she had been last, right?

Tohru searched her mind, trying to remember how she had ended up in the position that she was now. Yet every time she felt like she had the answer – it was right there on the tip of her tongue – her head would begin to pound painfully and she would be forced to stop.

She wasn't sure what had happened or how long she had sat there in the semi-darkness trying to get over the blockage in her mind; but after what seemed like hours – maybe even days, it was hard to gage time even with the window – she heard a sound come from behind the door.

"H-hello," Tohru called out timidly and her voice was scratching and crackling from dehydration. It took her mind a minute to process the fact that the greeting had left her mouth in English. But why English? She wasn't particularly good in the subject and she certainly couldn't speak it subconsciously.

Before she could think too much on it, a loud clanking sound had her jumping up in shock.

Tohru looked over at the door with wide, fear-filled eyes, wondering what awaited her.

It can't be anything terribly bad, she tried to tell herself.

There was another clang and then what sounded like chains being dragged about.

After another moment, the door was dragged open – creaking loudly and scrapping against the stone flooring – and blinding white light streamed into the room.

Tohru squinted in the harsh light, trying to see through it and to the dark figure outlined in the doorway.

The light lessened a bit as her eyes adjusted and the person drew closer.

Brown eyes locked onto amber and Tohru drew in a sharp gasp when she saw the face of her visitor.

Harry awoke groggily with a bright light shinning into his face and someone shaking his shoulder.

He groaned and pulled away from the hand, burying his head into his pillow and wishing desperately that sleep would pull him under once more. It was to be in vain, for that persistent hand did not stop in its insistent shaking.

"Daddy," a familiar, girlish voice called to him in a low whisper. "Daddy, you have to wake up. Now."

Harry sighed forlornly and turned away from the warmth that the lingering of sleep was promising him. He peered blearily at the two undistinguishable blonde blobs standing at his bedside.

"Wah," he asked in a horse-sounding voice.

Someone sighed and there was a small clicking sound before Harry felt a cold and thin metal object being pressed into his hand. He lifted it to his face and squinted at the object before recognizing his glasses. With another sight – knowing without a doubt now that he would not be allowed anymore sleep – Harry slipped them on and watched as the twins' faces swam into view.

"Daddy, Aunt Hermione wishes to see you in the living room in half an hour," Lily told him importantly. She spoke her words carefully so that each was pronounced without a childish lisp. Harry wondered vaguely when she had picked that up before remembering that this was Malfoy's child. They were bound to act like a Malfoy, even though they had not been raised as such so far – it was just in their blood.

"Does she," Harry questioned in a rather amused sounding voice – he even cocked a brow questioningly.

"Yes," Luke spoke this time with a slight scowl that was reminiscent of Malfoy's when he was forced to do something he deemed beneath him. "She sent us to get you, claiming that it was rather important."

"Alright, alright," Harry finally relented – letting the words come out on a huge sigh. "I'll be down in a few."

He then reached over and ruffled both of their hair fondly.

Lily shot him a rather heated glare and immediately began to straighten her hair back to how it was before – fiddling with the green ribbon that held the pigtails in place – as she turned to leave. Luke grinned cockily, not caring that his hair looked like a bird's nest, before following after his sister. Harry chuckled at both of them once they were gone – so like their father they were, although in different ways.

With that thought in mind, Harry glanced about the room. The blonde aristocrat was nowhere in sight, but a clock proclaiming the time to be after two in the afternoon put Harry at ease.

For a moment Harry simply sat there, gazing out of the window that the clear blue sky and wondering if all that had happened earlier that morning had actually happened.

Had Malfoy really said that he loved him?

Harry was finding that hard to believe. And if he did it was probably an in the moment kind of thing.

For some reason that thought made Harry's heart clench in pain.

"What do I care," Harry said out loud to the very-much-empty room. "It's not like I'm in love with the git."

Saying that made his heart ache even more, but Harry was determined to ignore that.

It really didn't matter to him one way or the other.

So he liked Malfoy, no harm done there, but loving that was a complexly different can of worms.

Denial, a voice sang in Harry's mind, but the Savior simply shrugged it off and went about getting ready. He focused his mind on what Hermione wanted to talk to him about.

Something important . . . what could that be, he wondered.

Thirty minutes later he walked into the living room, chewing thoughtfully on an apple.

The Sohmas were spread out all around the room.

Akito and Kureno were seated together on one couch together, and Hatori and Yuki were seated rather stiffly on another couch together. Ayame and Shigure were wandering around the room gazing at the moving pictures placed here and there of Hermione and the Weasleys and various other people. Haru was sprawled out on the floor on his side, Rin seated inside the curve of his body with her arms wrapped around her knees and a scowl on her face. Hiro and Kisa were on the loveseat by the fireplace, Momiji seated on the floor at their feet. And Kyo was standing against the wall, his arms folded over his chest and a glare set on his face.

Hermione was waiting for Harry near the arch that gave entrance to the room, a disapproving frown on her face.

"Nice of you to finally join us lowly people this lovely afternoon," she greeted him in a falsely sweet voice and with an arched brow.

Harry shrugged and grinned at her sheepishly.

"Insomnia strikes again," he tried weakly before taking a bite out of the apple to keep his mouth busy – and so that he didn't say anything incriminating. Just because he slept with Malfoy inside her house didn't mean she had to know about it.

"Right and Malfoy just woke up and decided that since this was such a nice day he'd have a change of heart and be cordial to everyone, Ron included," Hermione shot at him rather sarcastically.

Harry's face turned as red as the apple and he choked on the piece of it he had in his mouth.

So maybe she did have to know about it.

"I'm sorry," he gasped out in question when he could breathe a little better.

"Oh please, Harry, do me a favor and try not to insult my intelligence. I know exactly what you and a certain blonde aristocrat were up to last night."

Harry shifted uneasily and he could see that some of the Sohmas that had caught on were just as uncomfortable with the train of conversation as he was.

"But, the topic of what you do with Malfoy at night is not why I sent your twins to wake you," Hermione continued to say and Harry breathed a sigh of relief at the change of topic.

However, Hermione's voice had taken on a lecturing quality that he knew all too well and Harry knew he was in for it.

The bushy-haired brunette placed her hands on her hips and leveled him with a glare. Harry thought she looked very much like Mrs. Weasley; then again she was Mrs. Weasley now.

"It has just come to my attention, Harry," Hermione plowed on in full steam, "that your guests are completely ignorant of . . . well . . . just about everything!"

She paused there to give Harry a chance to defend himself but then continued on in full speed when he said nothing.

"What exactly were you thinking, hmm? Nothing, that's what. You never think things through. Bringing them here without them even knowing about the Wizarding World, are you insane? You know, you have done some pretty unthinkable things in the past, Harry James Potter, but this! This is just —"

"I was planning on telling them soon, Hermione," Harry cut across, knowing that given the chance his friend could go on for hours without pause, getting more worked up by the minute. As it was her hands had lifted from her waist to wave about in her anxiety and by the end she was poking Harry harshly in the chest.

"And," Harry stressed before she could cut him off like she was known to do. "Some of them do know some stuff. I introduced Kisa, Hiro, and Kureno to the Wizarding World."

"Only those three," Hermione asked, immediately catching on to Harry petulant tone. "And exactly how many people are in this room Harry, hmm," she then demanded, her eyebrows raised in an act of mock curiosity. She then went on to answer her own question before Harry even had a chance. "Twelve, that's how many. Three to every one person that you've told! Do you even realize how staggering this is likely to be for them – them growing up thinking that they were normal Muggles?"

"Of course I do, you know that. I may be a half blood but I did grow up with Muggles and I happened to have coped rather well. And actually, the Sohmas are more used to magic than you may think; they're not exactly what I'd call normal Muggles."

"Yes, well that's good and all," Hermione agreed but she was not so easily deterred. "But when, exactly, were you going to say something to them? And I don't mean about just the Wizarding World."

Harry growled lowly at that and his eyes flashed with anger all of a sudden.

Hermione's glare dropped, her face melting into a look of confusion, but it seemed like Harry's anger wasn't directed at her, but rather what her question suddenly reminded him off.

"After I found Tohru and killed the bastard that dared to kidnap her."

Harry's tone was so level and to the point that he sounded very much serious. The Sohmas looked a little uneasily at the thought, but Hermione didn't seem overly concerned.

"Oh, Harry," the older woman just said on a sigh. Her hands dropped to her sides as she gave her best friend a sad look.

"No Hermione," Harry told her in a no-nonsense tone. His eyes looked like glints of hard emerald. It was immediately obvious that something more had passed between them, leaving the Sohmas slightly confused.

"Fenir Greyback crossed the line a long time ago and now he's made it worse. He needs to learn that no one uses my family as revenge."

Hermione sighed and shook her head in exasperation.

"Fine, I obviously can't talk you out of doing something moronic," she said in a sort of cool, offhanded tone. Then she nodded her head in the Sohma's direction. "But at least explain your stupid heroic deeds" – she sneered this part with an angry sort of glare – "to them."

Then she turned on her heel and walked out of the room in a huff.

Harry heaved a heavy sigh and threw himself down onto an armchair. His apple dropped from his hand, bounced against the floor, and then rolled unevenly away to be forgotten.

"Everything I do is stupid to them," he said in a wistful voice, like he was speaking more to himself than to them. "They like to say I'm a martyr and they think that my 'heroic deeds' will get me killed one day. Yet somehow I'm still here so . . ." He lifted his fingers to add air quotes when he said heroic deeds, then shrugged at the end to show how much he actually believed the so-called words of his friends.

"You really mean it, don't you," Yuki suddenly asked after a rather long moment of tense silence. His voice was filled with both wonder and fear. "That you'll kill him?"

Harry heaved another heavy sigh, sounding incredibly like an old man.

"I supposed I do," he answered in a low voice, looking down at his hands. "They don't think I will, but it makes no difference to me. I've already got blood on my hands, and when it boils down to it, I'll have no choice but to anyways."

"I don't understand why you have to," Hatori spoke up in a sort of disapproving tone, like a parent scolding their child. "I'm sure you have some kind of police force, right? Let them capture him and save Ms. Honda."

"Ha," Harry barked in response to that, his voice taking on a bitter tone. "As if it were that easy! But no, Aurors don't even try to help me, not anymore at least. They expect me to help them. And even if they did manage to catch him, they wouldn't know what to do. Can't sent anyone to Azkaban these days, they always manage to find some way to escape now that the Dementors are gone."

"Well then, what do you do with all of them," Rin demanded of him.

"All of who," Harry asked her blankly, raising his gaze so that he could look her straight in the eye. "That bloody war had been over for seven years now and this is the first time we've caught so much as a single whiff that they're even still out there and not lying in a ditch somewhere."

"Well you must have some way to track them."

Harry was shaking his head before Yuki could even finish his statement.

"See, that's the problem with us wizards," he told the rat with a sardonic smile. "We're so damn hard to track, much less catch. We have Invisibility Cloaks and Disillusion spells and potions and charms that can change our appearance in a snap of a finger. We can go from one place to another in a matter of seconds, hide our presence behind wards. And then there's all those damn spells. We have a hard time tracing Light wizards and Dark wizards" – Harry snorted – "impossible. There's just too much out there and new stuff being invented every day."

The Sohmas listened to Harry in a stunned silence, not even sure how to grasp the magnitude of the picture he was trying to paint.

"And if that weren't enough," Harry went on to say, "they're people like Greyback. I don't even know if I can even call him a person, so taken over by his wolf side as he is."

"His wolf side," Shigure asked curiously.

"Yes, Greyback is a werewolf."

"Werewolves aren't real," Hatori immediately said in a tone an adult would use to inform a child that Santa Clause did not exist.

"Oh, they are real, very much so; and Greyback is the worst kind."

"I don't get it," Hiro suddenly spoke up, Kisa turning to watch with focused curiosity. "Aren't all werewolves supposed to be really dangerous? That's what that Defense book said. So, how's this Greyback guy supposed to be worse?"

Harry snorted at Hiro's question, something the young boy did not like, but he let it pass as he waited for the man to answer.

"As if," Harry told him. "That book, while informational, doesn't have all the facts. In truth, werewolves and the like are just like normal humans, just with . . . a serious condition."

"And how would you know that," Rin demanded in a superior sounding voice. Harry was coming to find that she seemed to like to challenge people.

"Well, seeing as my godson's own father was a werewolf, I'd think I know quite a bit about them actually."

"You're godson's father is a werewolf," Hiro ask, skepticism clear in his voice.

"Yes, and I'll have you know that he was the kindest, loyalist, and most intelligent werewolf ever," Harry proclaimed loudly. His tone was clearly defensive now, as if daring them to take a jab at the man. "And he was one of the best goddamn teachers to walk Hogwarts."

From the looks on their face, Harry could tell that they didn't really understand how important that fact was, but Harry honestly didn't care that much.

Fact was fact.

"So, what happened to him," Haru asked rather tactlessly.

"If you must know, he and his wife were killed in the war, just like a good number of decent people. It's horrible because Remus never did get to know his son. He didn't even know he could have one after Greyback turned him."

"Turned him," Shigure asked, once again curious.

"Greyback hunted him down when he was a child and bit him during a full moon," Harry spat out, his eyes emerald flames of anger.

"Okay, so you've obviously got a bone to pick with the guy, what's his deal with you though," Haru asked once more.

"What do you mean," Harry asked back, his mask of rage falling into one of great confusion.

"Well, why's he going around kidnapping your relatives?"

"Tohru's the only one he's ever kidnapped," Harry corrected him. Haru shrugged as if it didn't matter.

"Well isn't she your only relative?"

"No, she's just the only one I really . . . care . . . about," Harry said, a look of dawning realization coming over him. He suddenly shot up from his seat and shouted "Damn!" so loud, several people jumped out of their seats.

"What! What is it," Akito demanded, looking angry about the sudden outburst burst but also slightly panicked.

"I . . . I . . ." Harry sputtered as he began to head out of the room. He suddenly stopped mid-stride and his eyes scanned the room thoroughly. "Where's Kagura," he then asked in a dangerous sounding voice.

"At home probably," Hiro was the one to answer, looking very much confused.

"Damn it all," Harry shouted again and then stormed out of the room, leaving the Sohma's very much confused.

Draco stared fondly over at the woman that sat across from him on the leather armchair.

She was poised and neat – her ankles crossed, her hands folded in her lap, and the slightest of smiles on her regal face.

Narcissa Malfoy was, and has always been, a very beautiful and put-together woman. Dressed now in a silver gown that complemented her fair skin and light hair perfectly, Draco couldn't have been more awed.

He remembered those times when he was little and he'd gaze upon his mother and think that she was an angel.

Mother locked eyes with Draco – icy blue against steel-like silver – and her smile suddenly widened. She reached the short distance in front of her, and picked up the cup of tea Draco had set for her. Still smiling, she took a sip, humming her approval of his choice.

Peach black tea would always be one of her favorites.

"So, Draco dear," Mother started to speak, setting the cup down so that it clinked against its plate. "Are you ever going to tell me what brought you here?"

She casted her eyes about the room as she asked the question, and from the slight raise of her brow and pursing of her lips, Draco could tell that she accepted Hermione's taste in decorating.

"I was getting around to that," Draco told his mother casually, taking a sip of his own tea.

That wasn't completely true, seeing as they had spent the last hour and a half sitting in a relative silence and talking about trivial things. The only words that had been spoken of thus far that might have some kind of importance to the situation at hand had been when he had told his mother where they were.

"Well, I am listening."

Draco let out the smallest of sighs so that his mother wouldn't hear.

"It's simply just because of a bit of trouble Potter has run into."

Both of Mother's eyebrows rose now, but she said nothing, just took another taste of her tea.

"I've seen fit to help him on this one; I do still owe him a bit."

Mother nodded, but she didn't look the least bit fooled by Draco's words – she never had believed any excuse from Draco when it related to Harry.

"And how is Mr. Potter," Mother asked after a moment, not even attempting to call Draco's bluff. "I saw that he was in the Prophet a few days ago. What do you think of it?"

"Nothing really," Draco replied casually with a shrug. "Could be Skeeter spouting off again. She is known to stretch the truth every now and then."

Surprise flashed across Mother's face now and she set down the cup down on the glass-covered coffee table this time.

"And you know this for a fact," she demanded softly. Draco tried not to act surprise that she had caught his lie this time – even though he had said nothing that could incriminate him.

"I suppose."

"And you haven't questioned Mr. Potter on it as of yet?"

Draco diverted his gaze from hers this time.

"I told you Potter's having a bit of trouble right now," he spoke softly. "There's no need for me to rile him up if I'm willing to help."

Mother's gaze was burning into the side of his face, but he was determined not to look at her. He would not be tricked into answering truthfully until he was ready to accept this situation completely.

But then again, maybe he should just tell her. She would be delighted to know that she was a grandmother, and she'd always adored children. There was not harm in it.

Draco's decision was made for him; however, when at that moment the door to the study opened and in walked Teddy Lupin.

The boy was mimicking the twins today – his hair Malfoy white-blonde and his eyes emerald-green. The twins, however, were not with him, which Draco thought was odd – those two always seemed to flock around him like sheep to a shepherd.

"Un—Oops, I mean, Cousin Draco," the boy spoke up in a soft voice as he made his way into the room. He walked over to Draco, glancing shyly at Mother as he did so. "Um . . . Daddy's having a . . . um . . . meltdown? . . . Or they called it something like that, I think. Anyways, Uncle George told Aunt Hermione and she told me that you were probably the only one who could probably calm him and get him to make some sense."

Teddy nodded at the end of statement and beamed up at Draco in accomplishment. Draco couldn't help it; he patted the boy on the head fondly.

"Alright, I'll see what I can do."

Teddy grinned even wider at that. Draco moved to stand up, but his mother's voice had him freezing seconds later.

"Draco, who's this," she questioned slowly. She was looking at Teddy with furrowed brows, as if trying to put something vital together.

"Mother," Draco said importantly, drawing her attention. She gazed up at him patiently and waited for an answer to her question.

"Mother," Draco repeated and he dropped his hand onto Teddy's tiny shoulder. "This is Teddy Lupin, your great-nephew."

Mother's eyes widened ever so slightly and Teddy moved his head back and forth, looking between the two in confusion.

"Oh," she finally breathed after a rather long tense silence. Draco was astonished to see tears glistening in her eyes, although they did not fall. She dropped her gaze to Teddy, looking at him with a fondness she had only even shown her own son. "You are my niece's son?"

"My mother's name was Nymphadora Tonks," Teddy told her, pronouncing the name carefully and saying it proudly.

Mother nodded, a smile lighting her face as she gave a little chuckle.

"Then yes, you are my niece's son."

"So . . ." Teddy said, trailing off.

"That would make me your great-aunt. But you can just call me Aunt Narci."

Teddy beamed brightly at that and then said the incriminating words.

"Oh, Lily's middle name is Narci. Daddy thought it was very fitting since she was a Malfoy and he figured Cousin Draco would like it."

Mother looked questioningly up at Draco, hoping he could help make some since of what Teddy had just informed her off.

Draco just groaned and dropped his head slightly.

"Not now Mother, I have to go and deal with Potter before he destroys something."

"If you must," Mother said dismissively. "But I will accompany you and later you will tell me everything."

"Fine," Draco agreed and then turned and walked swiftly out of the room.

His mother and Teddy followed him out and the three all came upon a scene of great chaos.

Harry was pacing the length of the kitchen, tugging at his hair. Objects floated in the air around him and the magic in the air crackled.

The Sohma's stood safely in the archway leading off the kitchen, watching Harry pace in confused wonder. A good chunk of the Weasleys stood at the back door, also looking in at Harry in confused wonder. Hermione and Ron were the only ones actively trying to calm Harry – but it was in vain.

Draco sighed and moved to approach the raven-haired Savior.

"Potter, what are you doing?"

Harry froze and his head snapped up so that his eyes met Draco's. A smile flitted across his face before it dissolved into a frown.

"Where the bloody hell have you been?"

Both of Draco's eyebrows rose as he said, "Excuse me?"

"Look, I need you to go back to Japan and pick up someone," Harry spoke over him, sounding very much impatient.

"And why can't you?"

"Because! God damn it Draco, I don't have time to just stand here and argue with you! I have to move now before Greyback and whoever else snatch up someone else!"

Draco crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Harry hard.

Harry glared at him, his chest heaving as if he had just run a marathon.

"Calm?" Harry merely glared harder. "Good. Now you can tell all of us who else you think Greyback might target."

Harry's jaw clenched and he removed his gaze from Draco, glaring down at the floor.

"Kagura Sohma."

"I'm going to guess that she's back in Japan, so I hardly doubt Greyback would have the patience to go there just to kidnap one girl when you're here with all these others." Harry opened his mouth, no doubt to object, but Draco spoke over him. "Now who else are you unnecessarily worried about. And this time, it better be someone you're actually related to."

Harry shot him a dirty look.

"Actually they are – my aunt and uncle, Dudley and his family which also happens to include his witch daughter. I'm pretty sure when Greyback or whoever finds out about that they'll be interested."

Draco looked surprised now, and the expression was mirrored on the faces of all those around.

"Alright then," Draco finally drawled. "Then we'll just have to go and get them before someone else does."

Fenir Greyback.

That was what he had said his name was.

An acquaintance of Harrison's – they supposedly went way back. He claimed to know Harrison's godfather or the like.

Even now, hours later after he had left her alone to the cold and dark – Tohru still saw him before her. He was a frightening person, more frightening than Akito had been that one day at the Sohma summer estate.

He had an air about him that made him seem wild and feral – animalistic. And his appearance – Tohru wasn't one to judge a person by how they looked but . . . All those scars and that malicious gleam in his amber—no, yellow eyes.

Tohru couldn't have helped the fear.

And she had been right to fear him – the four red welts on her cheek was proof of that. Tohru could still feel the blood dripping down her face. Most of it had dried, but Greyback-san's nails had dug in deep.

Tohru shivered involuntary, remembering how the man had licked his lips and then laughed at her before he left. Tears cluttered in her eyes and then slipped silently down her cheek. It stung and smarted at the claw marks in her cheeks but she couldn't stop them.

She didn't know what was going to happen to her, but she was so very terrified.

She just hoped someone would come and find her soon.

I hope ya'll enjoyed that! I'm sure you all enjoyed that scene between Harry and Draco. Want more of that? Well REVIEW!