Inrevocabilis Cantanem

Chapter 6: The Dragon and the Squire, the Fools and the Righteous Babe

He wasn't sure how long they had been sleeping, but when Harry opened his eyes, he realized the sun was slowly disappearing. He looked over at Draco: his eyes peacefully closed, his mouth somewhat slack. Harry smiled and disengaged his hand from Draco's. He ran his fingers over the blonde's lips. Draco let out a small sigh and slightly pursed his lips. Harry moved his fingers to the blond locks and slowly turned them around his fingers. Though the bench didn't allow much space and the two boys were nearly on top of each other as it was, Harry nuzzled closer to Draco. He buried his nose in Draco's neck, inhaling deeply the scent of patchouli, jasmine, dirt, and sweat. He gently kissed Draco's neck, running his fingers along Draco's cheek.

Draco reached up, recapturing Harry's hand in his own. He turned his head and kissed Harry's lips softly, a small smile playing on his own.

"Don't do that," Draco said sleepily.

"Don't do what?"

"Touch me. You'll get dirty. I'm filthy, love."

Harry snuggled closer to Draco. "Yeah. But I was playing with your hair, not your mind."

Draco smiled softly and kissed Harry again.

"I do not have a filthy mind, Potter."

"Hmm," Harry said in mock agreement. "I was noticing, however, that you aren't the neat, tidy Draco Malfoy that I know."

Draco shook his head. Running his fingers along Harry's palm he said, "No. I'm not. I've never been more in need of a shower. I..." Draco laughed. "Never mind. You'll think I'm insane."

"I'm not sure there's anything you can tell me anymore, Draco, that I'll find surprising."

Draco looked over at his mother's grave.

"I...I removed some Galleons from my vault and bought her a headstone. Then yesterday I unearthed her and moved her here."

Harry shot upright. "Draco, that wasn't smart."

Draco motioned for Harry to lie back down with him. Harry complied, his eyes tinged with worry.

"No," Draco agreed, "it wasn't. But my father knows about this place. If he really wants her, he can come and get her. It'll be a fight, though. He took her from me twice, Harry. Not again." He turned his head back toward the graves, staring at them silently for some time.

"You know," Draco finally spoke, "I forgot a lot about Aunt Jolie, but I remember she and Lucius didn't get along. She was light. She was...I don't know...maybe it's what the child in me remembers, but she was other-worldly. She wanted no part of Voldemort or Dark Magic."

Draco suddenly turned his head to Harry, his eyes alight with remembrance and joy.

"She was a swan!" he said, a broad smile breaking across his face.

"A swan?" Harry asked, smiling in return.

"Yes!" Draco laughed. "Right before she died...I'm sure I just dreamed it, but in the dream, or whatever it was, I remember following her to the gardens one day - she didn't know I was there - and she was swimming in the pond and I swear she became a swan."

In the dusky haze Harry saw Draco blush slightly.

"Is that silly of me?"

Harry kissed Draco's neck softly. "No, Draco, it's not."

Draco smiled happily, comforted by his memory. Putting his left hand behind Harry's back, he slid the smaller boy to the middle of the bench and lay on top of him. He balanced himself on Harry's thighs, supported his weight on his palms, and lowered his mouth to Harry's.

They kissed delicately. Harry reached around to cup Draco's backside in his hands. Draco moved his hips slowly, barely pressing against Harry at all. Harry shuffled his hands between them to unbutton Draco's trousers, but Draco stopped him.

"Not now," Draco murmured against Harry's mouth. "I just want it like this."

Harry smiled against Draco's lips. "You just want to torture me."

"Mmm," Draco hummed, ending the kiss. "That, too."

Draco opened his eyes to look into Harry's. That twinkle that he saw on the train, the one that Harry had reserved for Hermione, flickered in Harry's emerald green eyes.

"What do you want, Harry?"

Harry bit his bottom lip. Up until recently, he had only wanted Hermione. He had only wanted Hermione from the end of their fifth year. But now...

"You," Harry answered throatily.

"What part of me?" Draco asked. He dug his erection into Harry's. "That part, Harry? Is that what you want?"

Harry tilted his head back. The moan that jumped from his lips was nearly a howl.

"Gods..." he groaned. He moved to unbutton Draco again. "Fuck..."

"No," Draco smirked, grabbing Harry's arms and pinning them to the bench. "Is that what you want?" He was thrusting his hips aggressively against Harry.

Harry began reciprocating the thrust. He wrestled his arms free and held Draco's rear tightly in his palms, the fingers digging into the taut flesh, pressing Draco more insistently against him. Draco thrust harder, his hips rotating wildly, his breath quickening.

"Is it, Harry?"

Harry was on the brink. He tossed his head madly from one side to the other, his moans loud and unrestrained. He had never felt this alive with Hermione. That thought brought the guilt back; that thought allowed the guilt to mix with the immense pleasure Draco was bringing him.

"Please..." he pleaded.

"Please what?" Draco asked breathlessly.

Harry moaned again, moving one of his hands from Draco's arse to the back of Draco's head, trying to pull the blonde's face closer for a kiss.

Draco resisted. His hips were hammering now. Each thrust shook Harry's body.

"Tell me, Harry," Draco breathed. "Tell me what you want."

Harry knew what he wanted, but he had difficulty articulating it. He wanted Draco's lips around him. He wanted to feel Draco's tongue swirling around the tip. He wanted to do the same to Draco. He wanted to do anything. He knew what it was that men did to one another. He had seen pictures of it. There was some part of his mind that knew what it meant to be inside of another man. Then he had been indifferent to it. Now the thought wildly excited him.

"You're going to make me come," Harry hissed.

"Is that what you want?"

Harry nodded his head.

"Is that all you want? Do you want only this, Harry?" Draco seemed to be having difficulty speaking. His breath came and went rapidly. Sweat gleamed on his forehead and threatened to run down his face and drop onto Harry's.

Harry shook his head.

"What...what else?"

Harry moaned loudly. "You. Please. Gods. Draco."

Draco continued driving himself against Harry. He, too, was close to climax. He, like Harry, was nearly delirious with all of the emotions he was feeling.

He moaned, bucking his hips feverishly, enjoying Harry's enthusiastic reciprocation. He felt a small vibration in Harry's pocket and let out a frustrated groan.

"You're bloody vibrating, Harry," he said, slowing the rhythm of his hips.

Harry quickly wrapped his legs around Draco. Forcefully, he pulled the blonde's head closer to his own, growled, "Don't stop; I'm coming," and kissed Draco ardently.

Draco returned the kiss with the same ardor, his hips regaining their hectic pace.

Moaning loudly, Draco threw his head back. Harry matched Draco's cry with one of his own.

Draco dropped his head and allowed his lips to grapple with Harry's, both of their bodies quivering against each other.

Vaguely aware of the small vibration against his thigh, Draco broke the kiss to look down at Harry.

Harry sighed. The sigh was a mixture of gratification and self-reproach.

"Hermione," he said softly, his voice hitching.

"Hermione," Draco agreed.

********************

As Harry and Draco were flying back, a sleeting rain began to fall. They were both drenched as they walked into the entrance hall, their numb hands gripping their brooms tightly. Draco quickly looked around before planting an innocent kiss on Harry's lips and heading down into the Slytherin Dungeons.

Harry slowly walked through the quiet hall and headed toward the grand staircase. He wasn't sure what the time was, but he knew that it was late and that Hermione must be worried. He had left her sleeping in her room right after daybreak that morning. He and Draco had spent an entire day, Harry realized, sitting by Narcissa's and Joliet's graves. He and Draco had lain with each other on the cold, hard bench for an entire day. He and Draco had...Harry smiled softly, then realized that he hadn't cleaned himself up. Looking down at the crotch of his pants, he slowly ran his hand over the front and thought of a scouring charm. Pleased with his work, he silently ascended the stairs to Gryffindor Tower.

By looking at the amount of activity in the common room, one couldn't easily judge that it was a Sunday. The Gryffindors seemed uninterested in doing homework or studying. They were all jumped up from their remaining stores of candy from Honeydukes. There were games of Exploding Snap and Gobstones being played by various students.

"Hiya, Harry!" Dean bellowed as Harry entered the common room.

Harry smiled softly, nodding in Dean's direction, and scouted the room for Hermione.

She was sitting on the floor near the entrance to the girls dormitory. She and Ginny were engaged in what looked like a serious conversation. Upon hearing Harry's name being called, she looked up anxiously. Even from where he was standing, Harry could see that Hermione's eyes were swollen and puffy from crying. The guilt surged through him again as he walked over to her.

"You're a sight," Ginny smiled softly. "Out flying in the rain?"

Harry smiled softly back and nodded. He reached his hands out and both girls took one. Harry helped them to their feet.

"How is -" Hermione began.

Harry held up his hand to stop her. "Come with me to my room. We'll talk there. I need to change my clothes."

Ginny clicked her tongue apprehensively. "Ron..."

Harry shook his head. "Ron's not going to give us any trouble, Ginny. I want to talk with you two."

Ginny still seemed hesitant.

"Okay," Harry said, "if he's not already up there -"

"He's not," Hermione said. "He's doing rounds."

"Okay," Harry continued, "then we'll have Dean or Seamus come up and tell us when Ron's coming. All right, Ginny?"

Ginny nodded softly. Harry took her hand gently, strode quickly to Dean and Seamus to tell them the plan, and walked the girls to the dormitory, up the stairs, and into his room. He quickly glanced around, checking that they were alone. Satisfied, he indicated that the girls should sit on the bed. He removed his traveling cloak and pulled his shirt over his head. Kneeling, he removed his shoes and damp socks. He grabbed a towel and tousled his hair with it, then wrapped it about his waist before unbuckling his pants and letting them, along with his underwear, slide down his legs. Clad only in his towel, Harry sat next to Hermione. He kissed her cheek gently and took her hand.

Ginny was staring at Harry's chest, a small smile on the corners of her lips.

"How's Draco?" Hermione asked. There was a note of...was it jealousy, Harry thought...in her voice. Whatever it was, the name Draco was said tersely.

Harry sighed. "Well," he began, "what happened Friday night was that his mother, Narcissa, was killed."

"Oh, dear God," Ginny said, clapping her hand over her mouth.

Hermione shook her head back and forth. "What? How? Why?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm assuming that Lucius found out that she was speaking with Draco. Draco is convinced that Lucius did it. Dumbledore is, too, I guess. I read...well, Draco said that she looked peaceful, so I don't know how Lucius killed her."

"If he killed her," Hermione replied.

"If? Hermione, there's no if."

"Harry," Hermione's eyes gleamed with irritation, "Lucius Malfoy is not above the law. If he killed his wife, he would be in Azkaban."

"Right," Harry said, growing irritated himself. "Right. Because he didn't almost try to kill me right outside of Dumbledore's office our second year. Or wasn't party to Voldemort's trying to kill me our fourth, fifth, and sixth years. And he spent how much time in Azkaban for those little extracurricular activities? Was it a week? Then he bought himself right on out of there. Hermione, if his own son says he's dangerous, then the man's dangerous."

Hermione sighed. "Fine. Fine. How much do we know about Lucius Malfoy other than the obvious? I mean, since Voldemort's death, he seems to have cleaned up his image."

"Publicly, anyway," Ginny said.

Harry nodded in agreement. He began rehashing what they already knew. "The Amulet. The Amulet's the tie to everything. It was Draco's. Draco told me that his mother had wanted to send it to him to do with it whatever he wanted. Your parents found it in Ron's room," he addressed Ginny, "and then it was gone. Narcissa told Draco in one of her letters that Lucius was up to something, then she wrote again saying that Lucius got really cheesed off when she asked him about the Amulet. She was supposed to meet Draco yesterday, but was killed the day before she was to meet him. She had something to tell him. Maybe it was about his missing Amulet. Whoever has that Amulet must have gotten it from Lucius Malfoy. That person must be working with Lucius. Gods only know what they've got planned."

Hermione looked at Ginny. "Don't cry, love," she consoled. "We don't know that it's Ron."

Ginny nodded somberly. "But you gotta admit it doesn't look good."

Harry lowered his head slightly. "Well, I'll speak with Draco about Lucius. Not now, though. We'll have to be patient and ride this out a bit. He's pretty angry and I don't know what he'll do. The last thing I want is for him to purposely seek Lucius out to kill him."

Hermione turned her head and looked at Harry as if she were going to say something. Just then, a breathless Dean crashed into the room.

"Sorry," he breathed. "Sorry. Ron's coming."

Ginny's eyes widened in horror. Just as Harry was reaching to get his invisibility cloak, Dean grabbed Ginny about her waist, carried her to his bed, quickly blew out the candles on his nightstands, and drew the curtains. Harry heard Dean say something softly that made Ginny giggle.

Harry turned to Hermione. He became conscious of the fact that she had barely looked at him all night. He was still holding her hand, but hers was limp in his grasp.

"Do we need to talk about something, Hermione?" Harry asked softly.

"I dunno, Harry...do we?" Her eyes were wet.

"Well-y well, well, well," Ron said, Neville at his side. Harry cursed himself for not pulling the drapes around his bed. "What have we here?"

Harry sighed and looked wearily at Ron.

Ron was standing at the end of Harry's bed, his hands at his hips, a smart-assed grin on his face. Harry let go of Hermione's hand, knelt on his bed, and pulled at the ties that held the drapes back. He watched as the drapes fell, obscuring Ron from his sight. The bed draped, he held his hand out, putting a silencing charm around his bed. He smiled, leaned forward, and put one around Dean's bed as well. Chuckling, he lay back and pulled Hermione into his arms.

"What's the matter, Hermione?"

Hermione turned her head, burrowing her face in Harry's neck.

"You smell different," she said, pulling back slightly.

"I was outside all day," Harry responded nervously. "What's wrong?"

She sighed, looking deeply into her boyfriend's eyes. "I'm not sure," she finally said. "I called you and you didn't respond."

"I came back," Harry defended.

"It took awhile."

"Baby, I wasn't nearby."

Hermione shrugged apathetically.

Harry held her tightly. He rubbed her back gently. She was shaking. Tears streamed down her face and wet Harry's chest.

"Oh, darlin'," he said softly, pulling her closer. He maneuvered their bodies in order to tuck them under the covers. He continued stroking her back. He kissed the top of her head. He whispered consolingly to her. He felt like shit.

"I want you to tell me," Hermione choked.

"What, baby? What do you want me to tell you?"

"Why, Harry? Why is he so damned important to you? I would suggest that you increase your skills. I'd suggest that you have much more power than you knew. I'd suggest that you study harder, but you'd just ignore what I'd say or do a bit more to placate me. Now I'm watching you magic silencing charms and make Draco sing on tables...all without your wand. It just pours from you now, Harry. The magic just pours from you. Maybe I'm selfish. Maybe I wanted it to be me that helped you to realize your potential. Maybe I'm really jealous that it's him that's making you see how powerful you can be. Why?"

Harry sighed heavily into Hermione's hair. What could he tell her? How could he tell the woman he was to marry that he had been close to shagging Draco several times? That he and Draco wanted the same thing? That maybe, just possibly, they both wanted more than that? That dreaded love, Harry thought, that comes and goes as it pleases. That made him hold Draco the same way he was now holding Hermione. That made his body want to blend and merge with Draco's much the same way that it had with Hermione's. That made him want Draco with the same ferocity - if not even more intense - that he used to want Hermione. The way that love could rip them all apart. How could he tell her all of this?

"And we..." Hermione was saying, "...we...you don't make love with me anymore."

Harry swallowed. "I made love with you last night."

"It wasn't like it usually is, though. You didn't kiss me. You didn't hug me. It wasn't soft. It was almost like you weren't there, Harry. Like you were a million miles away. And I know you were sad and angry and frustrated, but...I dunno."

Harry was nearly crying. It distressed him to know that his actions were hurting Hermione. He wanted things back to the way they were. He had tried his hardest to walk away from Draco. He had tried to turn his back on whatever it was he was feeling. But he couldn't. He tried to blame Draco for ruining his life, but he knew better. Draco was right; he was a more than willing, eager participant in his and Draco's affair. And he was breaking his girlfriend's heart.

He held her tightly in his arms. He slowly rocked her back and forth, repeating, "I'll be better, baby; you've got me" until they both finally fell asleep.

********************

"Why aren't you focusing?" Draco asked tetchily.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled. He walked from the center of the Room of Requirement where he and Draco were standing and flopped on the sofa.

Draco stood staring at Harry, who had taken off his glasses and was rubbing his eyes, before gliding over to the sofa to sit down.

"What's going on, Harry?"

"I've just got a lot on my mind, Draco. Just let me sit here for a minute and I'll try again."

Harry and Draco had been working on levitating the candles about the room. Harry knew he could do it without his wand; he had done plenty recently without his wand, but that particular night he just couldn't focus.

"I'm not talking about the magic. I'm talking about you. What's going on with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Come off it, Potter. You've barely spoken with me all week. You barely look my way. You were trying to find a way out of being here tonight." Draco paused. "Plus, it's like you're glued to Granger these days."

"She is my fiancée, Draco."

"Right," Draco smirked. "Lest I forget."

"Look, Malfoy, I don't know what you want from me."

Draco simply shook his head. He looked toward one of the candlesticks and it hovered just above the ground before it dropped suddenly.

"You bloody well know what I want from you, Harry."

Harry scoffed. "That's right. To bend over and take it, right?"

Draco smiled. "Is that what you want, baby? Because we can do that now."

Harry rolled his eyes. He stood and reached for his cloak. Draco quickly grabbed Harry's hand.

"No," Draco said firmly.

"No what?"

"Don't go. Not yet."

"I'm not going to screw you, Draco."

"I wasn't serious, Harry. Just...please, don't go."

Harry sighed and threw himself back to the couch. He said, "I honestly don't know what you expect of me, Draco."

Draco sighed. He honestly didn't know what he expected of Harry either. He knew that kissing Harry was the best feeling in the world. That merely being in his presence made Draco happier than he'd ever been.

He regarded Harry. Finally he spoke, "I can't tell you."

"You can't or you won't?"

"I can't because I'm not completely sure."

Harry clicked his tongue. "Fine. You asked me what part of you I wanted, remember?"

Draco nodded.

"I'll ask you the same thing."

"But you never answered," Draco said.

Harry sighed. They were going in circles. "Okay. Okay. Do you like kissing me, Draco?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to do more?"

"Yes."

"What do you want to do?"

"I want to make love with you."

Harry looked at Draco. He hadn't said "screw" as Harry had earlier. He hadn't used any vulgarities. He'd used the word Harry was having such difficulty himself defining: love.

"Do you..." Harry asked quietly, "...do you want to...to be with me?"

"Like your boyfriend?" Draco scoffed, but his cheeks were flushed.

Harry nodded softly.

Draco shrugged his shoulders. "It's not like I haven't considered that. But as you so eloquently mentioned moments ago - you've got a girlfriend."

"I have."

"So, what I want is moot, Harry." Draco smiled playfully. "Unless you leave her, of course."

Harry growled. Draco was the second person in less than a week that had asked him to leave Hermione. But before, when Ron had asked, there were no options; no, he wouldn't leave her. Now that Draco was implying the same thing, his options seemed slightly more open.

"If I left her," Harry began slowly, "what would become of us?"

Again Draco shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe I'd stand a chance."

"A chance at what? At being with me?"

Draco smiled softly. "People might hate us, you know. People might think we're freaks."

"Since when do you care what people think, Draco?"

"I've always cared what you thought. Why would I ask you to be with me, to commit to me, after you've rejected me so many times? After you rejected me the first time we met?"

Harry frowned slightly. "I haven't rejected you since."

Draco nodded. "Many times. Hermione comes first. Hermione's always come first."

"You're making me choose something I don't want to choose, Draco."

Draco shook his head. "I'm not making you do anything, Harry. Do you want to know what I honestly want? I honestly want you to leave Hermione. I honestly want to make love with you and wake up next to you in the morning. I think he saw that in me that day. The day he broke my fingers, he saw that I didn't hate you as I was supposed to. He saw that it was quite the opposite."

"Who saw that?" said Harry quizzically.

Draco shook his head. "I won't make you choose, Harry. But I know that soon your little gem will start buzzing and you'll make a hasty retreat out of here." Draco sighed. "I'm not a cold-hearted bastard, Harry. I don't want Hermione to be hurt. But I've never felt so bonded to someone before. I've never felt the need to be part of someone else's life until the day I met you. I'd watch you walk around with your friends, with your fan club, and the only emotions I could show to let you know I was thinking about you were hatred and anger. I won't make you choose. But you can't string me along."

"I don't string you along. I'm not stringing you along."

"Every time you leave me turned on without turning me off, Harry, you're stringing me along."

Harry rubbed his temples. He couldn't leave Hermione. But he wanted Draco. But Hermione was a permanent fixture, right? She wasn't going anywhere. Draco on the other hand...Harry had no idea what the Slytherin's true intentions were. What if he left Hermione only to have Draco decide that he hadn't wanted to be with Harry after all?

He wasn't willing to risk it. He looked sadly at Draco, stood, retrieved his cloak, and said softly, "Then I'll stop turning you on, Draco. Then there will be nothing to turn off."

********************

Harry returned to the common room to find Hermione crying, Ginny consoling her, and Dean and Seamus pacing around furiously. There were a few students scattered about here and there who watched the scene curiously, pretending to do their studies.

Harry quickly walked over to Hermione and sat, reaching for her hand. She jumped, her eyes wide and frightened. Harry realized he hadn't taken off his invisibility cloak.

"I'll be right back," he whispered. "Don't go anywhere."

He quickly dashed up the stairs, his cloak still on. When he reached his room, he saw Ron pacing about much the same way Dean and Seamus were. Neville was sitting on Ron's bed, watching Ron demurely. Harry left the cloak on and hovered by the entrance to their room, his ears perked.

"What am I doing?" Ron asked. His fists were balled at his sides. "What am I doing?"

Neville continued regarding Ron. Finally, he spoke: "You're angry, Ron. Just calm down."

"I can't. I'm making a huge mess here. That's the second time, Neville. The second time I've called her that."

Harry furrowed his brow.

"This is bigger than me. I don't know if I can handle this." Ron suddenly stopped walking and stared at Neville. "You're not going to tell anyone about any of this, are you? I'm trusting you to not say anything."

Neville nodded soberly. "You've got my word."

Ron nodded and continued pacing. "Shit. Fucking Harry. This is all his fault. I hate him. I swear I hate him." Ron stopped again. He quickly sat on his bed next to Neville and leaned forward. He was whispering and Harry had difficulty hearing what he was saying. "...again...saw...Malfoy...Harry...cemetery."

Neville raised his eyebrows. He spoke much more quietly than Ron, but Harry was sure he heard the name "Lucius."

Harry moved closer to hear what they were saying. His hand hit one of the candles on Seamus's nightstand, causing it to fall to the floor.

Ron and Neville swiftly turned their heads.

"Harry?" Ron asked.

"There's nobody there," Neville said quietly.

"He's got an invisibility cloak," Ron disclosed.

Neville's eyebrows raised in surprise before Harry stealthily turned and walked back down the stairs. He removed the cloak at the bottom of the stairwell and walked quickly over to Hermione.

"What happened?" he asked softly.

Dean quickly spoke up. "He's a fucking nutter, that's what happened."

Harry looked at the faces surrounding him. They were tense, angry, confused, and saddened all at once.

Hermione finally spoke, "Look, I don't want you getting mad at him and going to hex him or something."

"Fuck that!" Seamus bellowed. "I say we go up and do it now. C'mon, Harry. Have you got your wand?"

"Seamus," Hermione pleaded. "Harry, promise me. We've all agreed, well, Ginny and I have agreed, that it might be time to talk to Dumbledore. I don't want you throwing hexes anymore, okay. Please?"

Harry nodded grimly. Dean and Seamus both groaned with defeat.

"What happened?" Harry asked again.

Hermione drew in a deep breath. "I'd just finished my rounds and I came here to wait for you and spend some time with Ginny. Ron came in and asked me where you were. I told him that it wasn't any of his business. He told me that I'd better stop protecting you and letting you run willy-nilly throughout the castle or he'd see that I was replaced as Head Girl. I said to him that breaking rules didn't seem to bother him when you two were best mates. He turned bright red and started screaming at me that you two would never be best mates again and that you were a spoiled, selfish...f-fag." Hermione's voice began to break. Harry realized that her tears, her croaky voice, were more from anger than sadness. "And that y-you were only dating me so that no one would know that you were shagging Malfoy...and that y-you couldn't do any better than me. Then he called me a...a..." She erupted in tears, her face scarlet.

Ginny looked to Harry. "He called her a cheap, whorish Mudblood." She dropped her head, disgust, disbelief, and fury reddening her cheeks.

Harry muttered, "Gods," and pulled Hermione into his arms. He looked up at Dean and Seamus, both of whom were nodding encouragingly at Harry, their wands at the ready.

Harry shook his head. "No. I've promised. Don't worry, okay. I'll take care of this."

********************

Draco dismounted his broom and looked disgustedly at the building before him. It had to be centuries old, he figured. The long broom ride had exhausted his muscles and the two fingers Voldemort had broken were swollen and resembled large, Polish sausages.

He walked slowly to the door. As he was getting ready to knock, a young witch with fuchsia-colored hair and a large, bright smile threw the door open.

"Draco!" she squealed warmly. "Come in, come in!"

The witch wrapped her arm around Draco and escorted him in. Of the people waiting for him, she was the only one unknown to him - and Snape was the only one he didn't loathsomely despise.

Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody regarded Draco skeptically. Draco returned the gaze. Though he had become aware of the fact that it wasn't Moody but Crouch, Jr. who had turned him into a ferret during his fourth year, he wasn't about to readily embrace this man.

Nor was he to readily embrace the Weasleys. Arthur smiled tersely at the boy, while Molly had taken on a motherly countenance.

Snape simply observed the blond-haired boy much the way he always did. He didn't seem to be uncomfortable with these people, but he didn't seem as if he particularly wanted to be party to them, either.

Dumbledore stared at the boy before him, his bright blue eyes twinkling. Draco looked into Dumbledore's eyes, then quickly away as he felt his broom being taken from him.

The fuchsia-haired witch, who Draco was soon to learn was his cousin, Nymphadora Tonks, was pulling Draco's broom from his hands.

"Let me help you with - Oh, dear!" she gasped as Draco's broom clattered to the floor. "Dreadfully sorry!" She picked up the broom and turned to smile apologetically at Draco. The handle of the broom collided with his broken fingers and Draco howled. Tonks again gasped and reached out for Draco's hand, dropping his broom for a second time.

"Let me help you with that, dear," Mrs. Weasley said walking forward and picking the broom up from the floor.

Tonks smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry," she said, running her fingers nervously over her hair. Draco watched as the spiky fuchsia hair turned bright orange.

Dumbledore stepped forward and took Draco's hand. He looked at the fingers with a worried expression on his face. Mrs. Weasley was soon at his side.

"Oh, my. That doesn't look good," she said. She moved behind Draco and helped him with his cloak.

"Indeed, no," Dumbledore agreed. "But I think Draco can fix this himself, am I correct?"

Draco nodded slowly.

"Right," Dumbledore smiled wisely. "Draco, you know the Weasleys, I am sure, as well as Professor Snape. This is Alastor Moody. You have not properly met him. And this," Dumbledore said addressing Tonks, "is your cousin, your mother's niece, Nymphadora Tonks." Tonks prepared to protest her name before Dumbledore added, "To be addressed by her surname, Tonks, only."

Tonks smiled brightly.

Draco simply regarded the people around him.

"Well," Mr. Weasley was saying, "let's get this young man to his room and allow him to change into some warm clothes. We could bring dinner up to you, or you could join us. Your choice."

Draco barely heard Arthur Weasley. He was staring into Dumbledore's eyes. A wave of emotion suddenly swept over him and he had to stop himself from weeping. There were voices in his head. They spoke soothingly. Draco felt as if he couldn't breathe. He stared at Dumbledore for a long while, unable to look away. Unable to speak.

Dumbledore blinked slowly, breaking the spell, and said to Tonks, "Why don't you show Draco to his room."

Tonks moved quickly forward, wrapping her arm about Draco's shoulders and directing him up the stairs. She chattered the whole way.

She opened a door and escorted Draco through. There were new clothes folded neatly on a brand new trunk with the initials "D.M." carved in silver. An empty owl cage sat on the floor next to the wardrobe. Draco looked around the room. It was dark and high-ceilinged. There was an empty portrait hung on the wall.

He turned to Tonks, speaking for the first time since he had arrived. "Whose house is this?"

She walked over and threw herself on the bed, bouncing slightly on her rear and dangling her feet. "It's Sirius Black's. Well, it was Sirius's before he...before he died. He left it to the Order, so I guess, technically its ours. Harry stayed in this room when he was here."

"The Order? Wait, Potter was here?"

"Um hmm. Last year about this same time. He was to move in here with Sirius. The Order...well, you'll find out about the Order. Anyhoo...I've pulled all of your money from your vault and placed it in your other."

"My other? I have another vault?"

Tonks nodded. "There's a good deal there. Your mother must have been stashing it for you for years. Dumbledore bought you some new clothes and a new trunk. He's gotten your supplies and books for the school year as well. Oh!" Tonks quickly turned her body so that she was lying on her stomach on the bed. Her heels dangled above her rear and she kicked them about. She settled her pixie-like chin in her palms. "Maybe once you're settled, you and I can go and get you an owl."

Draco observed the pretty young witch. She was beaming brightly and seemed more of a child than Draco himself had ever been.

"Whatdya say?" she smiled.

Draco shrugged. "I suppose."

"Wicked! I'll go get you food. You get comfy. Unless you want to join us for dinner?"

Draco numbly shook his head.

"Your call. I'll be right back."

When Tonks left, Draco walked to the bed and sat down heavily, staring at the floor. He was confused, sore, tired, and...what was this feeling? Was it loneliness? What was his mother playing at? What had Dumbledore done to him downstairs? Why was he in Sirius Black's house? He looked up. Harry had stayed here. Sirius Black was dead? That's what Tonks had said. How were Harry and Black connected? In their third year, everyone knew that Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban and was trying diligently to kill Harry. Why would Harry be here in Black's house? More importantly, why did he, Draco Malfoy, care what Harry Potter did with his time?

He stood, removing his jumper and trousers, and walked over to the pile of clothes. Dumbledore obviously paid attention to his students. The clothes that he bought for Draco were clothes that Draco would have purchased for himself. He decided on a light green jumper and black pants. He was just pulling the jumper over his head when Tonks entered again.

"Whoops!" she said. She ran into Draco's arm and spilled pumpkin juice all over his new jumper.

"Guess I won't be wearing that," he grumbled, snatching the sweater off and reaching for another.

"I'm so sorry," she said, carrying the tray she was holding to the bed. She set it down. "Are you hungry?" she asked softly, sitting beside the tray.

Draco regarded the food skeptically. He shrugged, gliding over to the bed and sitting on the other side of the tray. He reached for a spoon. The pain from his fingers surged up his arm, causing him to gasp slightly.

"Poor baby," Tonks said, reaching for Draco's hand. As she held his hand tenderly in hers, he again looked at her. She reminded him of someone, he decided. He wasn't sure who. Given different circumstances, he might have actually taken to the quirky witch. But now he was leery. Now he was looking for a way out.

With a bit of force, he pulled his hand away from Tonks and held it in front of him. Tonks watched as the swelling in Draco's hand diminished and he slowly flexed his fingers.

"Wow," she smiled. "You are a Malfoy, huh?"

Draco smirked.

Tonks watched him eat his soup quietly for awhile before reaching her hand out to touch his hair.

Draco quickly pulled away, sneering.

"Whoa, bobcat, settle down," Tonks smiled. "I like your hair. You should..." She reached out and played with Draco's hair, making it stand up and spike like her own was. "There." She stuck out her tongue, made a face, and said, "Punk rock!"

Draco raised his eyebrow.

Tonks, still smiling, shrugged. "I dunno. I've heard Muggles say it. I think it means 'wicked' or something. Are you sure you won't join us?"

Draco nodded.

Tonks shrugged sadly. "Okay, well, we'll all be downstairs if you want to talk or anything. I'll come up and say goodnight if I don't see you."

She stood and walked to the door, tripping over Draco's new trunk. She stopped at the door and turned around to smile at Draco. "I was asking Dumbledore about you before you came...how you'd turned out."

"I'm sure that was a lovely conversation," Draco drawled.

Tonks smiled. "It's not like that. He likes you just fine. Anyway, he was saying that you looked a lot like Aunt Narcissa...but to me, you're the spitting image of Joliet."

Smiling, Tonks closed the door.

Draco stared at the closed door. Aunt Joliet. Tonks had known her. Draco thought that Tonks didn't seem much older than he. His aunt had been eleven years his senior. Tonks then, he figured, must have fallen in age between he and Joliet.

He stared around the room again. He thought of the voices he had heard in his head when Dumbledore was staring at him. He replayed the last few hours of his life: his father had ordered him killed; his mother had sent him to this place; he had a cousin who had known his aunt; Dumbledore had charmed him momentarily into believing that he was safe; Harry Potter kept popping up in his head.

"What are you doing here, boy?"

Draco jumped and looked around the room. "Hello?"

"Over here. No, here," the voice repeated.

Draco looked up at the portrait that had hung empty moments before. Now sat a distinguished-looking wizard. Draco recognized him as Phineas Nigellus.

"What are you doing here, boy?" Nigellus repeated.

"I don't know, sir," Draco said walking over to the portrait.

"Hmm," Nigellus intoned. "If you don't know, why don't you leave?"

Draco turned his back on the portrait. His mother sent him here. She had her reasons, he was sure. She had been saving money for him in another vault. She had obviously been keeping this a secret from his father.

He walked back to the bed and sat, running what little he knew through his head. All of it boiled down to Harry Potter. Voldemort had said the name Potter. He was fearful, he had to admit, of his father's bloodlust for Potter. Voldemort wanted Draco to bring Potter to him. Tonks knew Potter. Potter stayed in this very room a year ago.

"Why Potter?" Draco asked aloud.

"Potter," Nigellus groaned. "So that's why you're here. You know," he continued silkily, "I do spend a great deal of time in Dumbledore's office. I know who you are. Your aunt Andromeda is a blood-traitor. That clumsy little freak with the very strange hair is her daughter. Your mother, however, is no better."

Draco's face darkened. He quickly stood.

"Temper, temper," Nigellus smiled. "I'm just telling you what I know."

Draco shook his head. He shuffled from one foot to the other. He looked toward the door. If he were very quiet, he could sneak down and possibly get some clue as to what was going on. He started toward the door with Nigellus calling after him, "Your hair looks absurd."

Smoothing his hair, Draco slowly descended the stairs to the first floor. He could hear voices coming from a staircase on his right. Looking around, he quietly crept down those stairs as well, the voices growing louder.

"Must you," came Snape's ostentatious voice, "spill something every time we sit down to eat?"

"Every time," said Tonks. "Haven't failed to yet. But don't worry. I'll clean it up."

There was a chorus of "no!" Mrs. Weasley said, "Leave it to me, Tonks."

Draco pressed his back against the wall and peeked around the doorjamb. There they all were, sitting around the table like some big, happy family.

"So, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," Tonks began.

"You mean before you made a colossal mess of the table?" Snape simpered.

"Hmmph. Anyway, I think he's cute. He's young, Albus. He isn't set in his ways. He could change, you know."

"I agree," came Dumbledore's tone softly. "But we cannot forget the influence Lucius Malfoy has had over his son."

Mr. Weasley spoke next. "I've always spoken very ill of the Malfoy clan, I'll admit. But far be it for me to ignore the pleas of a mother. Albus, does this boy know how much danger he is in? Does he have any clue whatsoever? For heaven's sake, do you think Lucius would have brought You-Know-Who to his home to meet his son if he didn't know what would become of it?"

"Lucius Malfoy is by no means a dumb man," Snape said. "He was well-intentioned in doing what he did."

"Well-intentioned?" Tonks spat. "Are you kidding me, Severus? He could have killed Draco! You-Know-Who was brought there to kill Draco! Is that well-intentioned? It's my belief that Lucius Malfoy will kill anyone who gets in his way."

"Your beliefs," Snape countered, "are childish and unfounded."

"Oh!" Tonks sputtered. Draco heard something break. "Oh! 'Childish and unfounded,' huh? Are you allying yourself with Lucius Malfoy, Severus?"

"I am not. I simply feel that if you are to make a claim as strong as the one you are currently making, young Nymphadora, you should have concrete proof."

"I do." It sounded to Draco as if Tonks were pouting. "I do have concrete proof, Severus. You know it as well as I do."

"Severus. Tonks. Please," came Dumbledore's voice. "This is neither here nor there. What we need to focus on now is Draco. We need to keep him safe."

Mrs. Weasley spoke, "Does he know, Albus? Do you think he knows anything about the prophecy?"

"No, Molly. I do not think that Lucius would be foolish enough to mention that."

"And do you intend on telling him?" Snape asked.

"In time, Severus. I am aware of your concerns. I do not want a repeat of what happened with Harry."

"Oh, Harry," came Mrs. Weasley's voice. "Those two boys together? From what I hear, they're just plain nasty to each other. And Harry's such a dear, sweet boy."

Draco rolled his eyes.

"If the prophecy holds true, Molly, those two boys were fated from birth."

"Surely," Draco thought, "they can't be talking about Potter and me."

Dumbledore continued, "But for now, I think we put this conversation on hold. I will accompany Draco back to his room and answer any questions he may have about what he just heard."

"What? Where is he?" Tonks asked.

Dumbledore appeared in the doorway, smiling down in a paternal way at Draco. "Right outside the door," he smiled.

********************

Draco zoomed quickly past Harry, his hand extended. Gryffindor and Slytherin were practicing together, as Slytherin had their first match the next day against Ravenclaw. Harry leaned closer to his broomstick and picked up speed. He flew next to Draco. Smiling, Harry brought his body close to Draco's. Draco turned to Harry, sneered, and flew into Harry, pushing him aside. Picking up speed, Draco's hand quickly closed around the Snitch. He slowed his speed as Harry caught up to him.

"Nice," Harry smiled.

Draco merely smirked and started heading toward the ground, motioning for his team to follow.

Harry followed suit. He pulled his team together once they had all landed. They had flown well, Harry thought. Even though Draco had caught the Snitch, Gryffindor ended up ahead at 210 to 190. Ginny proved to be an excellent Beater; she would have given Fred and George a run for their money. Ron retained his post as Keeper. Harry looked over his shoulder and noted that Slytherin were leaving the pitch. He told his team to go on and shower and jogged off to catch up with Draco.

"Hey, Malfoy," Harry called.

Draco slowed, but he didn't turn around. Harry had to keep jogging to catch up to him.

"Hey," Harry said when he had finally caught up. "You nearly knocked me off my broom. Hey. Stop." Harry grabbed Draco's arm to prevent him from walking on.

Draco turned his steely gray eyes on Harry. He smirked and narrowed his eyes slightly.

"If I only nearly knocked you off your broom, then I guess I wasn't trying hard enough." Draco turned to keep walking, but Harry grabbed his arm again and spun him around.

"What's your deal?" Harry asked, his jaw tight.

Ron walked by the two of them, purposely bumping into Harry as he passed. He turned around sneering at the two boys and continued walking into the locker room.

Harry shook his head at Ron and then turned back to face Draco.

Draco jerked his arm out of Harry's grasp.

"Careful, Potter," he purred, "I get turned on by excessive force."

"Oh," Harry said, "so that's your deal."

Draco rolled his eyes and turned to walk away from Harry again. Again Harry grabbed Draco's arm and spun him around.

"Will you bloody knock it off?" Draco protested.

"No. Talk to me."

"I think you said everything that needed to be said last night, Potter."

Harry grimaced. "You've gotta understand, Draco. I'm involved with Hermione. I can't very well just leave her. It's hard enough with Ron acting like the biggest prat in the world."

"Rejecting me again."

"Draco, I am not rejecting you. I just can't do this. I can't. She's hurting. I'm hurting her."

Draco rolled his eyes again. "She's not alone in that, Harry."

"Oh, I'm hurting you now, too? That's just great."

"You're a tease, Harry."

Harry's jaw dropped. "I am not a tease, Draco."

"Oh, yeah? What about Sunday?"

"What about Sunday?"

"You stood there for five minutes telling me that you couldn't do this. You just couldn't. You couldn't hurt Hermione. You didn't want what I wanted. Next thing I know, you've got your legs wrapped around my waist. You're leading me on, Potter."

Harry shook his head. "I disagree."

"Have it your way," Draco replied. He turned away. Harry, once again, grabbed Draco's arm and twirled him around.

"I swear, Potter, if you do that one more time I'm going to knock your head off."

"Don't do this, Draco," Harry pleaded. "Please."

"You admit that you feel something for me."

"What good is that going to do?"

Draco slanted his eyes. For what seemed like the millionth time to Harry, Draco turned to walk away. Instinctively, Harry reached his hand out, grabbing Draco's robes.

Draco turned, his eyes like ice. He advanced on Harry. He towered over the smaller boy.

"You. Do not touch me. Ever again. Are we understood?"

Harry's eyes were like liquid as he stood staring slack-jawed at Draco.

Draco towered menacingly for a few moments before turning swiftly on his heels and stomping forward.

"Draco!" Harry called. The call was pleading. The voice was pained. "Draco. Yes. I do, all right."

Draco stopped walking. He placed his hands behind his back. Coolly he turned and closed the gap between he and Harry.

"I admit it," Harry said softly as Draco drew near. "I feel something. But what do I do? There's nothing I can do." Harry's chin was quivering. "We fought for this friendship, Draco. We fought hard to be where we are. I don't want to lose it."

"Who says it has to be lost?" Draco asked shrugging, his hands still behind his back. "Why can't you see it as something more to be gained?"

"I just can't leave her, Draco. She needs me."

"Everybody needs you, Harry. I need you. Ginny needs you. Hermione needs you. Hell, even Weasley needs you."

Harry hung his head slightly. "I just feel like I'm being forced to choose."

Draco nodded slowly. "Then maybe you are. I told you last night how I feel."

Harry sighed. "Gods, there's always something. I argue with you last night. I go to my common room and everyone's ready to kill Ron. I just want normal." Harry sighed again, realizing he was feeling sorry for himself and wondering if he had the right to be.

Draco shook his head. "Probably not gonna happen." He reached up and cupped Harry's cheek. Sighing contentedly, Harry pressed his lips into Draco's hand.

"What do we do?" he asked into Draco's palm.

"You let me love you," Draco said, bringing his lips to Harry's jaw. He stepped back. "So, what's the Weasel up to now?" Draco asked disinterestedly.

"He called Hermione a Mudblood. Twice. Once when he and I were in Lupin's office and again last night."

Draco smiled amusedly.

"It's not funny, Draco."

"No. No, it's not," Draco said, restraining laughter. "Not at all."

"Bugger off," Harry muttered and started walking toward the locker room.

It was Draco's turn to grab Harry by the arm and spin him around.

"Okay. I'm sorry. Really. It's a nasty, mean, horrible name and the Weasel should die a long, slow, painful death." Draco sounded as if he were reading from cue cards.

Harry took a step closer to Draco. "Would you call her that again?"

Draco smiled. "Not with her big, intimidating boyfriend breathing down my neck. Huh uh. No way."

"God dammit, Draco, I'm serious!"

Draco, his smile softening, rubbed Harry's shoulder. "No, Harry. I seriously would not call Hermione that name again. Okay? Truce?"

"Truce my arse. You started it," Harry said, trying hard not to smile. "You're a dick, Malfoy."

"Yes, you've told me. So, did you beat the shit out of Weasley or what?"

Harry shook his head. "Hermione won't let me."

"Hmm. Well, she didn't say anything about me," Draco smiled and started marching toward the locker room.

"Draco, no!" Harry laughed nervously, running up behind Draco and grabbing his Quidditch robes.

"Ah, young Harry," Draco said, swatting Harry's hands away and marching on, "you knave! Do not impede this fair knight on his journey. A tender young maiden has had her name besmirched, befouled, and besullied, and I shall behead the beoffender!"

Harry laughed. Running, he jumped on Draco's back and the two stumbled into the locker room. Laughing, Draco grabbed Harry by his upper thighs and started tickling him.

"Off! Off, you arrant knave! M'lady has been sullied! I must fight...ow...to the...ow...get off...death! Potter, you fight dirty! Leggo!"

Draco was still tickling Harry's thighs, but Harry was countering by biting Draco's ears and neck.

Draco pulled Harry's legs and dug his nails into Harry's calves.

"Owww!" Harry yelled, fighting to get his legs free.

"You give up, Potter? You should. You can't win," Draco laughed. "Ow! Stop biting me! You're gonna leave little love marks. How are you going to explain that one?"

"Easy, Draco. You're a whore."

Draco gasped loudly. "Well, I've never!"

Harry's laugh quickly turned into a surprised yelp. Draco had reached between Harry's legs and squeezed Harry's testicles. Harry quickly dislodged himself from Draco's back. Draco turned, a seductive smirk on his face. Harry's eyes were wide with shock, his lips forming a surprised smile.

"Who fights dirty, Malfoy?"

Draco raised and lowered his eyebrows repeatedly. "Told you you couldn't win, Harry."

The corners of Harry's mouth curled slowly. He bit his bottom lip.

"Why are you making this so hard on me, Draco?"

Draco sidled over to Harry. He looked down, taking Harry's hand, and then raised his head. His lips were millimeters away from Harry's when he spoke.

"Because in my experience it's just more effective when it's hard," he nearly hissed.

"If this isn't the most disgusting display I've ever seen," Ron sneered as he stepped from one of the shower stalls.

Draco looked at Ron. "Well, would you speak of the devil? I was just telling my good friend Harry here that I was going to behead you."

Ron scoffed. "Is that right?"

Draco was smiling. His eyes twinkled animatedly. "That is indeed right."

"I'd like to see you try, Malfoy."

Draco snickered. He turned to Harry and smiled. Then, before Harry or Ron knew what was happening, Draco, with lightening-quick agility and grace, had his forearm pressed against Ron's throat. He pushed Ron against a wall and held Ron off the ground with his arm.

"I hear you've been misbehaving, Weasley," Draco drawled. "Giving our dear Harry a hard time; calling Hermione nasty names; plotting evil, dark deeds; stealing..." he pressed harder..."my..." he pressed harder still..."Amulet."

Ron was kicking against the wall. He scratched furiously at Draco's arm.

"What do you have to say about your behavior of late, Weasley?"

Ron's face was turning purplish red. He fought to say something. He was meekly kicking Draco.

"I'm sorry," Draco smirked. "I'm afraid I didn't hear you. Now, if I let you down - because I know there's some part of Harry that wants me to - will you play nicely? Huh?" Draco pressed harder.

Tears ran down Ron's cheeks. His tongue was protruding from between his lips. Defeated, he nodded his head.

"Very well," Draco said removing his arm and letting Ron fall to the floor.

Ron lay in a heap on the floor. He wrapped his fingers around his throat. He gasped for air, coughing and sputtering. Harry watched as the color slowly returned to Ron's face.

Draco looked at Harry. "Sorry," he whispered, "but I've wanted to do that for a very long time."

Harry nodded in agreement. Draco had been right. There was part of him that wanted Draco to let go, but there was more of him that thought Ron was getting exactly what he deserved.

"I...I...don't have...your...ruddy...Amulet, Malfoy," Ron stammered.

"Oh, that's right," Draco drawled. "Your friend has it. Hmm. Ron, would it help you to know that I'm willing to kill someone to get that Amulet back?"

Harry wasn't certain that Draco was making an empty threat. Nor was Ron. His eyes widened in horror.

"So," Draco said nonchalantly, "perhaps it's time you just, I don't know, told the truth."

Ron stared at Draco. He looked over to Harry.

"It's his Amulet, Ron," Harry stated.

"Bugger off, Potter," Ron spat.

"Tsk," Draco said, moving with agility to Ron's side. He grabbed Ron's hair and pulled. "I thought you said you were going to play nice. Who's this friend of yours, Weasley?"

"Draco!" Harry yelled.

Draco looked over to Harry and then quickly to the door to the locker room.

Neville was holding his wand. Crabbe and Goyle flanked his sides.

"Oh, right," Draco snarled. "What are you going to do, Longbottom?"

"Stupefy!" Neville cried.

Draco smirked, holding his hand out and deflecting the spell.

Neville tried again, but this time, Draco simply leapt to the side. The stunning spell hit Ron.

Harry focused on Neville's wand. It flew out of his hand. Neville stared confusedly at his hand for a moment before looking incredulously at Harry.

Draco was chuckling, his eyes fixed on Ron.

"My, my," Draco sneered, "twice in only two months. That's got to be a record of some sorts. And Longbottom! What a shot you are! It's good to see your skills improving."

Crabbe and Goyle quickly raised their wands, but Harry's eyes flickered dangerously at them.

"I wouldn't if I were you," he sneered. "You two are worse than Neville."

"Okay, okay," came a voice from outside the locker room door. "I think that's quite - oops!"

As Crabbe was making some large gesture with his wand, Tonks collided with his body, causing him to stumble forward and drop his wand.

"Oh, sorry!" Tonks apologized as she stumbled her way through the door. She knelt to pick up Crabbe's wand and started to hand it to him. "I'm so sorry. Here you - oh, wait. No. That wouldn't be smart, now would it?" She pulled the wand back toward her.

"All right, boys. I'm with Tonks. I think we've had enough rough-housing for today."

Harry looked over Tonks' shoulder to see Fred Weasley smiling mischievously. He took Crabbe's wand from Tonks.

"Hmm," he intoned, looking at the wand. "Let me see if I remember how to do this." He pointed Crabbe's wand at Goyle's. The wand flew into his hand. He then pointed at Neville's wand which was lying near Harry's feet and summoned that one to him as well.

"Is the bloodshed over and done?" George Weasley asked, joining Tonks and Fred in the locker room.

"All done, George," Fred said.

George surveyed the scene. "Well, I tell you. When we went to school here, this kind of behavior was severely punished."

"Indeed," Tonks agreed. "So, what shall we do with them?"

"George and I have some of those engorging candies in our cases. We could feed them all two or three at a go," Fred suggested.

"Or stick them up their bums," was George's idea.

"That could prove messy," Tonks said. "I think we should reanimate the youngest Weasley boy and then send them all on their way...with the strict understanding that we know what went on here today."

"Yes," George agreed, "and Dumbledore's always willing to listen to us."

Harry raised his eyebrow.

"Okay, okay," George muttered. "He'll listen to Tonks."

Fred pointed Crabbe's wand at Ron. "Ennervate."

Ron mumbled. George jogged to his side.

"Gotta watch out for those stunners, little brother," he smiled.