Inrevocabilis Cantanem

Chapter 7: Prophecies and Warnings

As the weather was unexpectedly warm, the group settled in the courtyard and drank butterbeer. Tonks had walked with Ginny, Harry, and Draco from the Quidditch pitch and met Fred, George, and Hermione in the courtyard. Fred and George had taken Ron to the hospital wing, finagled some butterbeer from the house elves, and pulled Hermione away from the library.

Though the twins were still the same characteristic pranksters, they had matured quite a bit. They were constantly looking out for Ginny: sending her large care packages and seeing to it that she was well dressed. They were doing very well for themselves but were remaining modest. Their family came before anything. Though both Fred and George had allowed their hair to grow, Fred wore his shaggily, allowing it to hang in his eyes and look as if he rarely combed it. George, on the other hand, resembled Bill almost more than he did his own twin. His hair was neatly brushed back into a ponytail. Tonks had decided on black hair that day, but the tips of her spikes were blue.

The seven of them sat on the grass in a circle. Tonks was sitting next to George. He sat next to Ginny, who sat next to Fred. Fred was sitting beside Hermione, who held Harry's hand. Harry was sitting next to Draco.

"What are you doing here?" Ginny squealed delightedly, standing and walking about the circle, throwing her arms alternately around Fred's, George's, and Tonks' necks for what seemed the hundredth time.

"Are you kidding? Like we'd miss a Quidditch match," George smiled. "Not even if it is ruddy Slytherin playing. I've personally got my money on Ravenclaw."

They all laughed.

"Watch it, Fred or George or whoever the hell you are," Draco smiled, sipping from his butterbeer. "You've put your money in the wrong place. I'll gladly take those odds." He looked over at Tonks and smiled. "Hey, Tonks. Your hair. Punk rock!"

Tonks giggled. "It's just a shame you didn't keep yours the way I styled it. Now that was punk rock!"

Draco smiled and nodded in Harry's direction. "That's more of a Potter 'do if you ask me."

"Really?" Tonks smiled. "Hmm."

She walked over to Harry and knelt. Pulling her fingers through his already chaotic locks, she made his hair spike crazily.

She rocked back to her heels to admire her work. "Oh, yeah. That's punk rock."

"See?" Draco smiled. "He just needs..."

Draco leaned over Harry, putting one hand on Harry's thigh and using the other to turn Harry's face toward him. Draco ran his fingers over Harry's forehead, turning the lighting-bolt scar a radiant gold. He then raised Harry's glasses and ran his fingers over each of Harry's eyes, lining his eyelids a deep, inky black and darkening Harry's long, wispy lashes. Smiling, Draco turned Harry's face back to Tonks.

"Wicked!" she smiled. She scooted back to sit next to George.

"Oh, Harry," Fred gasped, "you're so androgynous! Will you be my date for the Yule Ball?"

"I asked him first!" George protested.

Harry shook his head. "As always - when the cousins get together I'm their little experiment," he muttered good-naturedly.

Ginny smiled at Harry. "It was really your fault you fell asleep first last Christmas, Harry."

Harry clicked his tongue. "I was tired. I had been fighting dark forces all day -"

"Yeah, like a month prior," Draco laughed at the same time that Fred smiled, "Now, now, Harry, we didn't invite Snape to the Burrow last Christmas."

"- and needed a bit of a nap. How was I to know that Malfoy and Tonks were going dress me up like a ruddy prostitute?"

Everybody laughed.

"You should see the pictures, mate," George guffawed. "They're brilliant."

"Are you home for a while then?" Ginny asked.

"Till holidays are over, yep," Fred smiled.

Ginny beamed brightly. It amazed Harry that, though all of the Weasleys were similar with their lengthy heights and bright red hair, Ginny strongly favored the twins.

"Ah, it's so beautiful today," Tonks smiled, stretching out on the grass. George gently ran his fingers over her bare midriff.

Hermione raised her eyebrows and looked over at Ginny and Fred. Harry smiled in Draco's direction, and Draco inconspicuously ran his fingers over Harry's.

"Yes, yes," Fred said looking at Harry, "love is truly in the air." He winked.

"So, tell us what you've been up to," Hermione smiled at Fred and George.

"Well," George began, "we've expanded Weasley's Wheezes. We now have shops set up all over the UK, as well as China, France, and the United States."

"The United States...wow," Fred smiled. "Talk about your liberal witches and wizards."

George laughed. "Yeah, Fred's ready to deport."

"Don't you dare," Ginny squeaked, hitting Fred playfully.

"I'll take you with me. I'm sure you've broken all the hearts you can in this region."

Ginny jumped on top of Fred, wrestling him to the grass.

"Enough!" he screamed, laughing heartily as she tickled him. "There's been plenty enough fighting for one day!"

Ginny sat back on her haunches, "Who was fighting?"

Tonks sat up, taking George's hand. "Give you one guess."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione whined.

Harry prepared his defense, but Draco quickly intervened.

"Now, now," Draco smiled. "He's innocent. It was all my fault."

"What happened?" Ginny asked, her eyes jumping from Harry to Draco, blazing with curiosity.

"First," George said, "tell us what's been going on with our dear brother. You wrote a bit, but it wasn't detailed."

Ginny sighed. Alternately she, Harry, Hermione, and Draco told Fred, George, and Tonks what had been happening over the past few months. When they finished, Tonks sputtered, "What? I can't believe it."

George shook his head soberly, and Fred rubbed Hermione's shoulder before taking Ginny's hand.

It suddenly dawned on Harry that he hadn't mentioned to Draco a lot of what had been going on; most importantly that he'd overheard Ron mention his and Draco's names in conjunction with the cemetery. He leaned over and whispered to Draco that they needed to talk later.

"Ginevra, why didn't you tell Mum and Dad?" Fred asked softly.

Ginny shook her head. "I just can't, Fred. I was hoping that maybe you two could speak with him. I'm staying here over Christmas - "

"What?" George nearly yelled. "Ginny, you can't! We want you at the Burrow with us."

"I know, but I figured it would just be easier. George, he hates me right now. If you could speak with him when I'm not around...well, I just figured it would be easier that way."

George frowned. "Fine. We'll talk with the little so-and-so. But we're going to set up a Portkey, and I want you, Hermione and her parents, Harry, and Draco to meet us at the Burrow. We'll talk to Ron after Christmas. If we have to stun him in order to have a nice holiday together, that's what we'll do."

Tonks smiled softly, looking at Draco. "It's my understanding that he's getting pretty used to that anyway."

Hermione groaned. Draco couldn't help but toss his head back and laugh, causing Harry, Tonks, Fred, and George to join in. Ginny's eyes grew curious again.

"Don't keep us in suspense," she smiled.

"Ah," Fred smiled. "He is blood, and it's really not funny, and we're wrong to be laughing."

"Yes," George chuckled, "very wrong indeed."

"Tell us!" Ginny bounced up and down on her knees.

"Okay," Fred began, "so, we're watching a rousing Quidditch practice..."

"Wait," Harry interrupted. "You watched us practice? How long were you there?"

"Oh, we saw the whole thing," George said, smiling at Harry and Draco. "We saw it all."

Draco smirked. Harry reddened slightly and focused on his butterbeer.

"Anyway," Fred continued, "the teams leave the pitch. We decide we'll hang about and surprise you all when you come out. Then we notice that Ron looks rather...hmm..."

"Surly," Tonks suggested at the same time that George suggested, "Prickish."

"Right," Fred said. "So, Harry and Draco," he chuckled, "Harry and Draco head into the locker room behind Ron. We decide we should check that things are all right because Ron's still looking a little...hmm..."

"Surly," Tonks said again, just as George was repeating, "Prickish."

"Exactly. So, we creep over to the locker room and Harry and Draco," Fred chuckled again, "Harry and Draco are...bickering...about what to do about Ron. Ron comes out from one of the stalls. Draco chokes him."

"You choked him?" Hermione gasped.

"It was an impressive choke, Hermione," George said.

"And then," Fred exclaimed, "we see Neville, Crabbe, and Goyle - which is just an odd matching of inadequacies - walking toward the locker room. We hide ourselves. They go in. Neville casts a stunner. Draco coolly deflects. Another. Hits Ron. Neville's wand goes flying."

"Nice work by the way, Harry," Tonks smiled.

"Indeed," Fred agreed. "Then Goyle or Crabbe - one of those great lumps - starts doing this...something...with his wand."

"I think he's going to knit a quilt and throw it over Harry and Draco," George suggested.

"Hmm. That never occurred to me," Fred looked thoughtful for a moment. "My concern is that he might put an eye out. So, Tonks suggests that we stop the brouhaha - "

"Right," Tonks quickly interjected. "So, I throw the kid who's knitting the quilt down and take his wand."

"Um, darling," George said, "actually I think you trip and fall into him and he drops his wand."

"I do pick it up, though," Tonks smiled.

"Yes. Yes, you do."

"So," Fred continued, "we reactivate Ron and take him to the hospital wing where he is now in a very...umm..."

"Surly," Tonks suggested.

"Prickish," George suggested.

"...mood," Fred concluded.

Hermione shook her head.

"Ah, Hermione, lighten up," George smiled. "He deserved it. Maybe he'll learn not to call people nasty names and venture into the dark side."

"Do you think that's what he's doing?" Tonks asked no one in particular.

Fred and George looked around at everyone.

Draco cleared his throat. "Well, if he does have a friend who has the Amulet, then it's important that we find that friend."

"And it's the only one in existence, right?" Fred asked.

Draco nodded. "To my knowledge, yes. I was too young to wear it, so it was never used by me. I don't know why I was the only non-Death Eater to actually have had an Amulet."

"Do you think Ron does have a friend who has your Amulet, or do you think he's that friend?" George asked Draco.

Draco shrugged his shoulders. "Does Weasley have friends? We're looking at Crabbe, Goyle, Neville, or Tracey. At Hogwarts anyway. There could be someone else."

"With what I know about the Amulet," Hermione said, "which I'm sure isn't as much as Draco knows, none of the possibilities at Hogwarts seem plausible."

"Does the Amulet give the wearer more power, or does the wearer have to be powerful already?" Tonks asked Draco.

"Now that, I don't know. The Death Eaters were a powerful group of witches and wizards. The Amulet much more than made up for those who lacked in sorcery."

"Then," Harry said, "Crabbe, Goyle, or Neville having it wouldn't be such an implausibility."

"Hmm," Draco thought, "I'm still not sure about that. But if Lucius has had the Amulet in his possession, he could have done any number of things with it. I don't even know if it carries any strength anymore. It was supposed to be for Voldemort's followers, remember?" He suddenly reddened. "God dammit! Why did he have to take her from me? I just...I just wonder what she knew that was so dangerous to him that he had to kill her."

Draco dropped his head, looking into his lap. Harry wrapped his arm around Draco's waist and Tonks leaned over, embracing Draco tightly.

"We'll figure it all out," Tonks said softly, kissing Draco's forehead. "I promise."

Fred reached over and patted Draco's leg.

"Well," George said, "we're going up to see Dumbledore. We'll see you guys after dinner. Chin up, Draco. Oh, Harry. Take a walk with us after dinner, will you?"

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

The summer of 1997 was both the hottest and rainiest London had ever seen. Deciding he needed a break from the many people at the Burrow, he walked slowly through Diagon Alley, casually peering into the windows and admiring the many wares the shops had to offer. He reached into his nearly empty pockets. He had, he figured, just enough to buy a butterbeer. He headed toward the Leaky Cauldron.

"Dear boy," he heard a voice beckon from a dark passageway.

He looked around.

"In here. Come to me."

Looking cautiously around, he slowly walked forward.

Lucius Malfoy stepped out of the shadows slightly and smiled at the boy before him. He lovingly stroked the serpent's head that adorned his cane.

The boy curled his lip in disgust. "What do you want?" he spat.

Lucius smiled cajolingly at the boy before him. "Yes. You have every right to despise me. It is understandable."

The boy sneered and turned to walk away.

"But," Lucius called, causing the boy to stop and turn around again, "I would like this opportunity to apologize. I've been wanting to speak with you for some time now."

"You've been wanting to speak to me? Why?" the boy asked suspiciously.

Lucius sighed and leaned his frame against the wall. The boy realized how much Lucius reminded him of Draco.

"Because," Lucius began casually, "you and I have much in common."

The boy smirked. "Yeah. Sure we do. Bugger off."

Lucius clicked his tongue reprovingly. "Surely you've learned to have more respect for your elders."

"Not for you. You're...you're a horrible person."

Lucius laughed haughtily. "Yes, as I'm sure you've been told your whole life. 'Stay away from those Malfoys if you know what's good for you'." Lucius chuckled.

"We have," the boy said angrily, "nothing in common; therefore, there is nothing we need to discuss." He turned on his heels and started away.

"Harry Potter," Lucius said.

The boy stopped. He strode back into the passageway.

"What about Harry?" His voice was tight.

"That's one of our many commonalities. You hate him. So, young man, do I. He's taken my son, tried to ruin my reputation. He's taken everything from you. Who knows how powerful you could be were it not for Potter stepping in and stealing your glory."

The boy nodded, then said, "But I'm nowhere near as powerful as Harry."

"Ah," Lucius purred. "Do you know that for sure? When have you ever gotten the chance to prove that?" While the boy allowed what Lucius said to sink in, Lucius continued, "You've had to settle for second best your entire life, am I right? And finally, when you get a chance to prove yourself, Harry Bloody Potter steps in and saves the day. That has got to be nauseating."

Again, the boy nodded his head.

"What makes it worse," Lucius's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, "is that you are a Pureblood wizard and he...his mother was a nothing. Born of Muggles. Convincing James Potter to ruin his Pureblood line. But you...you are from a family that understands the power that comes from having Pureblood. They may not practice it, but the understanding is inherent."

Lucius tossed his long, silvery mane of white hair. His finger drummed nonchalantly on the serpent's skull.

The boy tucked his hands in his pockets. He looked at his feet. True, he did hate Harry vehemently. True, Harry had taken many things from him; had embarrassed him; had stolen what could have been his grandeur. And he was a Pureblood wizard. But he had always been told and believed that that didn't matter.

He looked up at Lucius Malfoy. The confidence in the older man's eyes was amazingly seductive.

"You got a new wand, yes?" Lucius asked.

"Yes, I did."

"Was it fitted to you or was it another hand-me-down?"

"It...We got it second-hand," the boy said, blushing furiously.

Again, Lucius clicked his tongue. "Seems, my boy, that the whole world wants to keep you down." Lucius reached into his pocket and withdrew a change purse. He removed several Galleons from the purse and reached to hand them to the boy. "Now," he smiled, "I want you to go to Ollivanders. I want you to get a wand that suits you. Burn the other."

The boy looked skeptically at the money and then at Lucius. "Why are you doing this?" he asked.

"I've told you," Lucius said patiently.

"What do you want from me?"

"I only want you to realize your power. I've lost my only son. All of your friends will forever support Potter. We're both alone. All I want," Lucius said, a note of sadness in his voice, "is your company. So, take the money, please. Get a good wand. Meet me in Knockturn Alley tomorrow."

"Knockturn Alley?" the boy questioned, reaching his hand out to take the Galleons.

"Yes. Now, run along. I shall see you tomorrow. This is just between the two of us. No one else will understand."

The boy nodded softly, turning to walk away.

Lucius watched the boy walk out of the alley. Smiling to himself, he turned and headed back to work. The hard part, he thought to himself, was over.

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

Fred, George, and Harry walked leisurely about the grounds. The warm day had turned into a chilly evening, and the three of them had wrapped themselves in heavier cloaks. Tonks had stayed back with Draco, Hermione, and Ginny. Dean and Seamus had joined the quartet and the six of them played Exploding Snap in the Great Hall.

Fred and George caught Harry up on the financial aspects of their business. Harry was very much impressed with the Weasley twins' financial astuteness. Their Christmas present to their parents, they informed Harry, would be to clean up the Burrow a bit.

"Not much, mind you," Fred said. "Mum's accustomed to it the way it is, but we thought we'd make it sturdier and bring in a few contractors."

They also disclosed having bought Ginny a gown from the United States for her to wear to the Yule Ball. They bought Ron some new slacks and a couple of dress robes, but Fred was threatening to keep them for himself.

Not wanting to speak of Ron, Harry turned to George and, smiling, asked, "So, how long have you and Tonks been an item?"

George smiled, his cheeks reddening slightly. "I guess about four or five months now. We were always sending owls back and forth, you know. Then Fred and I stopped at the Burrow briefly over summer before we headed to the States, and there she was. It just sort of, you know, happened."

"But more intriguing," Fred said, winking at George: "how long have you and Draco been an item?"

Harry stopped walking. He stared slack-jawed at the twins, both of whom were smiling broadly.

"What? We're not...he's just..." Harry stuttered.

"I know," George said, walking over and placing his arm around Harry's shoulders. "I always have heated, passionate rows with my mates. Then we kiss and make up, too."

Harry smiled guiltily. "That's right. You were there, huh?"

"Oh, yeah," Fred said. "We saw it all."

Harry realized that their stroll had taken them to the lake. He walked over and sat, George and Fred accompanying him. Harry picked up a small stone and threw it at the water. He watched the water ripple and then settle again before he said, "It's really complicated."

"Why?" Fred asked. "Because you both have willies?"

Harry chuckled softly. "No, that seems to be the least complicated piece. It's Hermione. I've asked her to marry me. She's agreed. Then Draco makes this huge play for me and I...hmm..."

"You like him," Fred said sympathetically.

Harry nodded and tossed another stone. He never imagined he'd be having a conversation such as this with the Weasley twins. Tonks, maybe. Dumbledore was an even stronger possibility. But Fred and George Weasley? Something about them just didn't lend itself to heart-to-heart discussions. But they were here now, sitting at the lake beside him. Willing to listen.

"So, what are you going to do?" George asked, picking up a stone himself and tossing it.

"I have no idea," Harry sighed. "I mean, Hermione's crying and upset with me constantly because I'm spending all of my time with Draco. So, I start spending more time with her and less with Draco and he gets pissed. If there were only two of me: one who loved Hermione and one who loved Draco."

"Ah," Fred said, "but there's only one Harry Potter." He smiled at Harry.

Harry looked at Fred and asked, "What would you do? I mean, presuming you liked a boy."

Fred looked mysteriously at George and raised his eyebrows. He said to Harry, "It's cliché, my friend, but I'd follow my heart."

"But what if someone gets hurt? Look at what I've got. I've hurt Ron to be with Hermione. Then I'll hurt Hermione to be with Draco."

"Well," George said, "Ron's a git. Hermione's a might more sensible, wouldn't you agree?"

Harry nodded. "That's true. But, he's a boy. Draco's a boy."

"Does that bother you?" Fred asked.

Harry considered. When he was with Draco, no, it didn't bother him in the least. When Draco had mentioned that people would be disturbed by it, Harry had realized that that was the least of his own concerns. In his whole life, the consideration that he may be gay never once occurred. Granted, with the exception of Hermione, he'd had horrible luck with women, but he'd chalked it up to whom he was; not that he would have preferred to be with a man. He grasped the understanding that he felt more alive, was more turned on when he was with Draco than he had ever been with Hermione. But, he thought, that might just be the danger of the situation and not the body parts.

He looked at the water, asking, "Does it bother you?"

"What?" George said. "Homosexuality? No. People should love who they love."

"But then again," Fred added, "George and I are much more intelligent than most of the world. We're an advanced breed."

"True," George agreed.

Harry laughed softly. He threw himself back, lying on the cool grass. "I don't know," he groaned. "I don't know what to do with myself."

"Maybe," Fred said slowly, "you should talk to Draco and see what he knows."

"I'm sure," George added enigmatically, "there are many things he hasn't yet disclosed."

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

With Fred, George, and Tonks about, the next week flew quickly by. Slytherin had crushed Ravenclaw. The Friday following, Gryffindor played Hufflepuff with similar results. The Saturday following the Gryffindor/Hufflepuff match was a trip to Hogsmeade.

With Fred and George's presence, Ron's behavior mellowed some. He still skulked about the castle, but kept his snide remarks to himself. Draco spent a great deal of time with Tonks. Just being in his cousin's company transformed the usually reserved, emotionally detached blond into a free spirit. Harry noticed that Draco was nearly skipping as he walked around the castle.

He and Harry had missed their Thursday night meeting in the Room of Requirement. Harry realized that he and Draco hadn't spent any time alone together to discuss the things he had wanted them to discuss. Harry noted that Draco's mood was slightly dampened when the blond met Tonks, Ginny, Dean, Seamus, Hermione, Fred, George, and Harry in the Great Hall after the Gryffindor/Hufflepuff Quidditch match on Friday.

As Tonks, Fred, and George were getting ready to return to the Hog's Head to go to bed, and the rest of the group had decided to retire as well, Draco looked at Harry and held up his finger, requesting that Harry stay a moment.

After saying his goodbyes to Tonks, Fred, and George, and telling Hermione, Ginny, Dean, and Seamus that he would meet them upstairs, Harry asked Draco what was up.

"After the match," Draco huffed, "Dumbledore came over to me and told me that Snape's requested that I be removed as Head Boy."

"What?" Harry said. "Why?"

"Apparently, Snape caught wind of what happened in the locker room last week. He told Dumbledore to replace me."

"Well," Harry said, "what's Dumbledore going to do?"

"I told him to go ahead. If I'd had my badge, I would have thrown it. But, Dumbledore..." Draco growled. "He refuses. He said some rubbish about being the bigger man and blah blah blah. 'Draco, you are Head Boy for a reason.'" Draco did a sarcastic Dumbledore impression.

Harry chuckled.

"Anyway," Draco said, "are you going to Hogsmeade tomorrow?"

"I had planned on it, yeah."

"Could you not?"

Harry looked at Draco. Confused he asked, "You don't want me to go?"

"No. I'm not going. We never got a chance to talk."

"Hermione's going to throw a fit," Harry mumbled.

"Well, I'll leave you two to work that out. Meet me in the Room tomorrow once everyone's gone. Okay?"

Harry nodded. He looked around the empty Hall and then back at Draco. Leaning forward, he placed his lips tentatively against Draco's. Harry felt Draco's lips curve into a smile before he parted them, his tongue darting out and wetting Harry's lips.

"Don't disappoint me," Draco said thickly.

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

Dumbledore walked Draco up the dark stairs and back into his room. Draco threw himself on the bed. Careful not to make eye contact with the old wizard, Draco harshly asked, "What the hell is going on? Sir."

Dumbledore smiled softly. He removed the clothes from the trunk, placing them gently in the wardrobe. Before sitting on the trunk, he reached into his pocket and removed a small bag of candy. He took out a lemon drop and placed it in his mouth. With a satisfied smack, he smiled at Draco, offering him a candy.

"They are lemon drops," Dumbledore explained. "They are a Muggle candy I have grown quite fond of. Do try one," he coaxed.

Draco hesitantly reached out his hand and took one of the candies from the bag. He examined it closely before putting it in his mouth.

"The poison should kick in momentarily," Dumbledore smiled, and then laughed heartily at his joke. Draco simply regarded the Headmaster unsmilingly. Dumbledore continued, "So, you are wondering why you were brought here. You are wondering why your mother would send you to a place full of blood traitors and goody-goodies."

"To be perfectly honest," Draco said arrogantly, "yes."

Dumbledore nodded. "She wants you to be safe."

"Here?" Draco asked disbelievingly.

"There is no safer place in all of England."

"This was Sirius Black's house," Draco countered.

"Indeed it was. Sirius gave his life to protect his godson and for that which he believed in above all else: the right to choose and live peacefully."

"So, he died," Draco said nonchalantly.

"Indeed, Draco," Dumbledore said, a note of sadness in his voice, "he did. He died only a short time ago. Harry was his godson."

"But he wanted to kill Potter," Draco said.

"No, he wanted to see Harry live."

"How did he die?" Draco asked softly.

"In the battle in the Department of Mysteries. I am sure you have heard about that."

Draco nodded his head. "That's how my father ended up in Azkaban. That's how you all got him thrown in there."

Dumbledore nodded softly. "But let it be known, Draco, that your father placed himself in the Department quite purposely. Did he tell you what Voldemort was looking for?"

Draco flinched slightly at the mention of Voldemort's name. He unconsciously rubbed his fingers. "No."

"Voldemort," Dumbledore began, "was looking for a prophecy."

"Is that the prophecy everyone was talking about downstairs?" Draco interrupted.

"This particular prophecy foretold of either his or Harry's demise. He needed Harry to get the prophecy. Your father," Dumbledore continued, "seems to have had a motive of his own. To answer your question, Draco, no. That prophecy and the one you heard mentioned are not one in the same. It is the other prophecy, the one that carries yours and Harry's names in which your father was interested. He had heard tales about it, as many had, but he was uncertain of its existence. Now, it would seem that he knows for sure that the prophecy does exist."

"Did he see it?" Draco asked, licking his lips nervously.

"He may have seen it, but he did not read it. Only you or Harry are privy to the information contained within the prophecy. As of now, there should be only two people who know what the prophecy foretells. One of them was killed some time ago. The other," Dumbledore smiled, "is sitting right before you. But, Draco, since you are here, I am led to believe that your father has discovered what the prophecy has to tell. If that is the case, both you and Harry are in grave danger."

"Is it as bad as all of that?" Draco sputtered. "Bad enough for my father to kill me all because of what some silly prophecy says?"

Dumbledore simply nodded.

"Look," Draco said, "I know Potter's your golden boy, but he and I are not to be linked in any way. Is that understood?"

"Draco, you cannot change fate. You can tempt it. You can know what lies in store. But I have yet to meet anyone who was able to change their fate."

Draco shook his head violently. "Well, there's a first time for everything. I will not be linked to that...that..." Draco sputtered.

"Draco," Dumbledore said softly.

"What?" Draco spat. For the first time since Dumbledore had been in his room, Draco made eye contact. Immediately, the need to weep overwhelmed him. Immediately the voices soothed him. Tears streamed down his face. Dumbledore was in his head. Dumbledore was asking Draco to trust him. Dumbledore was telling Draco that he would keep him safe.

Then the spell was broken. Draco angrily rubbed at his eyes.

"Stop doing that! What is that?"

Dumbledore simply smiled. "I would like for you to be calm."

Draco looked down at his hands. He had overheard the Weasley woman saying something about he and Potter "together." What did that mean? He wanted no part of Harry Potter. But what if the prophecy hadn't said that they were to be friends? What if it said they were to be mortal enemies? That would make his father happy, right? But if that were truly what the prophecy said, why had Voldemort told Lucius Malfoy that Draco was a blood traitor? Why had his own father ordered him killed?

Draco looked up at Dumbledore.

"You know what the prophecy says."

Dumbledore nodded.

"Tell me," Draco had meant the comment to come out as a demand, but it sounded pleading.

Dumbledore sighed softly. "It is always my intention to let life take its own slow and steady course. I never want to intervene. But I tried to allow that to occur last year and met resistance from a very stubborn young man. I cannot allow myself to repeat the mistake. If you are sure that you want to know the future, then I will tell you."

Draco nodded. "I want to know."

Dumbledore consented. "The prophecy, as it was told to and recorded by me, reads: They with powers to exonerate the world of Darkness and he with powers to bring the world to its knees have been born. The one, born of darkness, the darkest day of the year, will be taught to uphold the most sinister of intentions. The other, born of light, the day when harvests were first reaped, shall be manifest as darkness's rival. Together, they will be the one's other: the darkness's light...the light's darkness. Through love only will the light shadow the dark...will the one with powers strong enough to annihilate light in the world be defeated. They with powers to rid the world of Darkness will be born as the harvests are reaped...and as the day is its darkest...at the genesis of a new decade."

Draco let the words run through his head. The darkest day of the year. He was born on December 21: the Winter Solstice, the shortest day of the year. Potter was born on July 31.

"How the bloody hell do I know that?" he muttered.

Were harvests reaped on July 31, he wondered. The genesis of a new decade. Potter was to be sixteen this year, as was Draco. They were both born in 1980. Potter was to be Draco's rival. He looked up suddenly.

"If we're to be rivals, then why is my father so angry?" he asked Dumbledore.

"Do not think of a rival as an adversary, but as an equal," Dumbledore explained.

Harry Potter was not Draco Malfoy's equal. By no means. He grumbled and continued thinking. The prophecy said something about love. Draco scoffed.

"I don't love Potter, Professor Dumbledore," Draco said. "How do you know this prophecy tells about us and not two other people who clearly do not hate each other?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Because, Draco, you and Harry are the only two who fit the prophecy. You were born on the Winter Solstice and Harry was born on Lughnasadh, a day when harvests were originally reaped. Both at the beginning of a new decade."

Draco frowned. He didn't care about any stupid prophecy. There was no way he was going to be friendly with - let alone love - Harry Potter.

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

Draco paced around the Room of Requirement. He stopped pacing and looked at his watch. The students should have left for Hogsmeade a half an hour ago. There was no sign of Harry.

He growled and began pacing again. He was sure that Hermione had convinced Harry to go with her. The thought angered Draco. He decided that he would just march right on to Hogsmeade, find Harry and Hermione, and proceed to kiss Harry passionately right in front of her.

Smiling wickedly, he started to stride toward the door. Just then it opened. A breathless Harry staggered through the doorway and closed it, leaning heavily on the door, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He smiled apologetically.

"Sorry," he said breathlessly. "Hermione threw a small tantrum as I was walking her out, and then when I was coming here Peeves started throwing things at me. So, I had to run around the entire castle to lose him. Then I couldn't find the room because I had to pee really bad, so you and I obviously didn't have a common need. So, I went to the bathroom and then I came here as...quickly...Why are you staring at me like that?"

The breath had caught in Draco's chest. He was accustomed to getting everything he wanted, but that usually came with a price. His father had spoiled him, but only if Draco were doing things exactly as Lucius wanted. Suddenly, the anger dissipating because of Harry's innocent smile, Draco realized that he wanted nothing more in the world than this black-haired, green-eyed boy before him. All of the rage and disappointment he had felt when he thought that Harry had once again chosen to be with Hermione instead of there with him transmogrified into a feeling of complete bliss. He could have cried.

"You are so beautiful," Draco breathed.

Harry laughed. "Yeah, when I'm dressed up like a prostitute." He started to make his way toward the sofa.

"No. No, Harry," Draco said, holding his hand out and impeding Harry's movement. He turned so that they were facing each other. Harry's face was still slightly flushed from all of the running. His eyes were bright with a childlike innocence. He was smiling softly. Draco ran his fingers over Harry's face. He ran them along Harry's jaw, over Harry's lips, across Harry's chin. He put his finger underneath Harry's chin and tilted his head up. As he brought his lips to Harry's he whispered, "So goddamn beautiful."

Draco pressed his lips firmly against Harry's. The smaller boy reached up, running his hands through the sleek ash-blond hair of the other. Draco whimpered softly against Harry's mouth, causing Harry to break the kiss. Pulling his head back, he looked into the metallic gray eyes. Draco was crying.

"Draco?" Harry said softly.

"I'm okay," Draco said softly. He brought his lips to Harry's again, kissing him gently. Ending the kiss, he ran his fingers over Harry's lips and said, "Okay, we should talk, right?"

"Hmm? Oh, right."

Harry and Draco sat on the sofa.

"So," Harry began, "during our fifth year - "

"When you were a git and I couldn't stand you?" Draco interrupted.

"Yeah. Exactly that, Malfoy. Anyway, Voldemort used to use my dreams to influence me. It was sort of like, well, as if we were the same person sometimes. That's how it felt anyway. When he would get angry, my scar would burn. When he would get excited, my scar would burn. Whatever emotion he was feeling, I could feel. That's when Snape started teaching me the Occlumency. I was horrible at it at first, but...Anyway, the dreams weren't really like dreams. They were more like...hmm...like telepathy, you know?" Harry let out a deep breath. "I had a dream the day after your mother died. It made my scar tingle, which is weird since Voldemort is dead. I was in Malfoy Manor. Your father was there and he was talking to Bellatrix Lestrange."

"How do you know Bellatrix?" Draco asked.

"We have a long history," Harry smiled sardonically. "But they were talking about the Amulet and that a boy had it. This boy is a Pureblood. Lucius said that as soon as they got me out of the way, they would be indestructible."

Draco furrowed his brow. The prophecy ran through his head. He had thought, when Dumbledore told him, that the one he and Harry were to defeat was Voldemort. Suddenly he wasn't so sure.

"So, then the Amulet still has power. He must have done something more to it...or will do something more to it. Pureblood. Harry, I know you don't want to think it, but how many Purebloods do we know?"

Harry shook his head. "Why would he do that? I just don't understand."

Draco sighed. "It's about power. Power - the need for it, the possession of it - it can make nearly anyone do anything. Aside, Lucius is a very charming, manipulative man."

Harry nodded.

"We could always kill him," Draco suggested.

"Who? Lucius?"

"Eventually. I meant Ron." Draco smiled at Harry.

"That could be the solution for a pretty big headache," Harry agreed.

"Ahhh," Draco sighed. "A Ronald Weasley free world. Beautiful."

Harry chuckled. "We're not going to kill him, Draco."

"Aw, Harry. Come on. If Weasley were out of the way, we wouldn't have to spend a good amount of our time discussing whether it is him or isn't him; where the Amulet is or isn't; who has the Amulet or doesn't. It would free up some time for other activities." Draco raised his eyebrows and licked his lips suggestively.

"Like Quidditch?" Harry teased.

"Yeah," Draco laughed. "Yeah, naked Quidditch. The object is to get your broomstick to rub against the other team's broomstick. But you can't use your hands."

"No hands?" Harry asked, leaning against the arm of the sofa and throwing one of his legs over the back. "It's hard to fly a broomstick with no hands."

Draco crawled into the open space between Harry's legs. "Sometimes. Okay, you can use your hands and your mouth. Can you fly a broomstick with your mouth, Harry?"

Harry shook his head. "I've never tried."

"It's very easy," Draco said softly, lying on top of Harry. "And then maybe one day," Draco said, lowering his mouth to Harry's, "I'll teach you how to score."

Harry smiled and raised his head, catching Draco's bottom lip between his teeth. He sucked Draco's lip into his mouth. The blond moaned, rotating his hips slightly. Harry thought of the two of them on the stone and suddenly stopped. He pulled his head back.

"Draco."

"Mmm?" Draco was nibbling Harry's neck.

"Just a second. Seriously. Stop."

"What?" Draco groaned.

"I just thought of something."

"If that 'something' starts with an 'H' and ends with a know-it-all, I'm going to strangle you."

Harry shook his head. "No. I just remembered. The night that I left here and Ron had fought with Hermione, I went to the room and he was talking with Neville."

"So, he's lost a few brain cells," Draco said impatiently. He moved to kiss Harry.

"Draco! Stop. Listen."

Draco groaned and pulled himself off Harry. He sat back on the couch and looked with irritation at his hands.

"They were whispering," Harry said, "and I swear I heard Ron say that he saw us at the cemetery."

Draco looked over sharply at Harry. "You mean that prat was there?"

"I think so, yes."

"Gods, Harry!" Draco said, standing and walking across the room. "Why didn't you say anything to me about this?"

"I was...I meant to, Draco."

"Fuck," Draco muttered. He felt as if his privacy had been invaded. He ran his hand through his hair. "You know what's troubling me the most?" Draco looked over at Harry. "I tried Legilimency on Ron. When I was choking him. Harry, I couldn't see anything. He wasn't blocking me, I don't think. And it's not like Granger. You can read Granger, but I can't. It wasn't like that, though. There was magic protecting him. If he was there in the pretty fields, Harry, and he's got some kind of ward protecting his thoughts..."

Harry nodded gravely. It didn't look good for Ron.

"I'm sorry, Draco. I should have said something."

Draco shrugged. "It's okay. We'll have to go to Dumbledore and see if we can get you a pass to come here on Thursdays so that Weasley doesn't give you or Hermione anymore shit."

Harry nodded in agreement. He smiled. "But I'm getting good," he said cockily.

"Yeah, Potter. Like how you were making candles fly all over the room last time we were here," Draco retorted.

"I told you I had a lot on my mind. I wasn't focused."

"Oh, yeah. I know. I know," Draco teased.

Harry raised his eyebrow. He looked at Draco's silk, buttoned shirt. The buttons slowly undid themselves. Surprised, Draco looked down. He watched as his shirt slid down his shoulders and off his arms, landing in a bundle at his feet.

He raised his head, smiling at Harry. Harry smiled back arrogantly.

"Not bad," Draco said, walking back over to the sofa.

"Are you still up for that game of Quidditch?" Harry asked, standing.

Draco replied by pulling Harry into his arms and kissing him deeply. Harry ran his hands up and down Draco's smooth, muscled back. Draco let his hands run through Harry's hair, the curls twirling around the blonde's fingers.

They kissed for what seemed to be hours and just as Draco was thinking that he needed to be touching other parts of Harry, Harry gently guided Draco down onto the floor and lay on top of him.

Their kissing became feral. Harry pulled his lips away from Draco's and started sucking and nipping at Draco's neck, his hips rotating slowly, pressing his arousal against Draco's. Draco moaned and reached for the bottom of Harry's shirt, pulling the shirt over Harry's head.

Harry pressed his bare chest to Draco's, their lips once again hungrily nibbling at one another. Again, Harry broke the kiss. He moved his mouth to Draco's nipples. He gently sucked first the left, then the right, his tongue flicking snake-like against them. As he orally manipulated Draco's nipples, Harry lowered his hand and placed his palm over the swell of Draco's erection. Draco moaned softly, jerking his hips upward.

Harry softly stroked Draco through his trousers before unbuttoning Draco's pants and reaching his hand inside.

"Harry," Draco moaned.

Harry stopped his ministrations to Draco's nipples to look at his hand and what he held there. He moaned through closed lips and stared at his hand. It seemed to have a mind of its own. It would stroke to the base and then, twisting slightly, slowly back up. It would sometimes pause to gently squeeze. It would sometimes pause to tickle Draco's testicles.

Draco was crying out loudly. He was close to climax.

"Come here," Draco said to Harry.

Still holding Draco in his hand, Harry brought his mouth to Draco's. Draco dropped his hands to Harry's waist, skillfully unbuttoning Harry's pants. He wrapped his fingers around Harry briefly before tugging Harry's pants down some. Tucking his hand under Harry's hip, Draco maneuvered Harry's body so that Harry was again lying on top of him.

Harry's bare skin touching Draco's, he loudly groaned. He moved his hips against Draco's, their erections trapped between their sweaty bodies.

Harry was elated. He moaned Draco's name repeatedly.

Draco dug his fingers into Harry's bare arse, squeezing the tight, muscled flesh. Expertly, he spread the cheeks and moved his middle finger, pressing it gently against Harry's anus.

Harry gasped and reflexively tightened his muscles.

"Shh," Draco whispered. "I won't hurt you, Harry. Just relax. You trust me?"

Harry nodded, moving his head to nibble Draco's neck.

Draco kept his finger still, waiting for Harry's muscles to relax. He slowly rotated his hips, causing Harry to moan and mimic Draco's movements. Harry relaxed and Draco gently slid his finger inside of Harry.

Harry moaned against Draco's neck.

"Is that all right?" Draco breathed.

Harry nodded.

Draco slowly slid his finger in and out of Harry's tight aperture, enjoying Harry's moans and the grinding of Harry's hips. He let his free hand slither from Harry's rear to his front, taking the hardened shaft in his moist palm. He stroked Harry much more quickly than Harry had him and soon Harry's hips were jerking deliciously.

Harry moaned loudly and bit almost painfully into Draco's neck. His body shuddered and released. He emptied himself on Draco's stomach.

His breathing harsh and ragged, Harry smiled down at Draco. He kissed him vigorously, aware of Draco's erection still pressing into his thigh.

Harry quickly lowered his body. His head at Draco's waist, he admired Draco's body. He watched Draco's erection slowly bob up and down in anticipation. He looked at the tip and smiled as he thought that Draco's urethra looked like an unblinking, pearly eye. Harry extended his tongue. He licked Draco's navel, aware that he was swallowing not only Draco's sweat, but also his own fluids. The thought made him smile. He let his tongue glide over Draco's neatly trimmed pubic mound and down to Draco's testicles. He took them into his mouth, sucking gently, causing Draco to hiss and arch his back. He smiled as he let them fall from his mouth. He used his nose to run the entire length Draco's erection. At the top, Harry again extended his tongue and dipped it into that pearly eye.

Draco nearly screamed. Digging his nails into Harry's shoulders, he thrust his hips upward.

Harry took Draco into his mouth.

Again Draco hissed. He gently tangled his fingers into Harry's licorice-colored locks. He wasn't going to last long.

Harry, Draco was both surprised and pleased to note, was very skilled with his mouth. The black-haired boy's lips would almost be pursed as if kissing the tip and then Harry would take the whole of Draco's shaft into his mouth, his nose buried in the wispy blond hair.

Draco felt himself straining at the back of Harry's throat.

"Harry...Gods..." Draco stammered, watching Harry's head move up and down between his legs. "I'm there, Harry," Draco moaned.

Draco expected Harry to move his head and finish the job with his hand, but Harry simply increased his speed. Draco moaned loudly, tears forming in the corners of his eyes as he erupted into the back of Harry's throat. His toes felt numb.

Harry held his head up and swallowed, his eyes glinting mischievously at Draco.

Draco smiled, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "Do you realize how we must look? Completely shirtless, shoes and socks still on, pants around our thighs, and covered in come." He laughed.

"Well," Harry said, moving to fall into Draco's waiting arms, "maybe we should just get undressed."