The Strongest of Us All

Chapter 6

February 14, 2002

"I cannot believe we lost."

"Me neither. And it's all your fault."

"My fault? You're the one who made the stupid bet in the first place!"

"But you're the one who can't play chess! Knight to E6, honestly. I saw that coming a mile away. Who taught you chess anyway?"

"Ron."

"So shouldn't you know all his tricks by now?"

"I never said I was any good at it. Ron's a genius at chess, and you were the one who said he could choose the game."

"I thought he'd pick something normal!"

"Chess isn't normal?"

"I meant a normal betting game! Cards or exploding snap or something."

We both glared at each other.

"So, basically... This is Ron's fault."

"Now you're talking. Everything is always Ron's fault."

"Is that a Slytherin thing? Blaming it on the Gryffindors?"

"No, it's a Draco thing, blaming it on the boyfriend's best friend."

"Ah."

We sat uncomfortably for a moment more.

"Do you think we should just do it and get it over with?"

"I'd rather not do it at all. Can't we put a memory charm on them?"

"They've all ready told half the school, and I'm sure that half told the other half."

"So... can't we put a memory charm on them?

"Nope."

I sigh. "Fine. Your idea. We'll just do it and get it over with."

We both stand up and head to the door.

"Actually, this is your fault," I decide. "You're the one who made the conditions for the bets. You're the one who decided if we lost we'd show up at the ball in this!" I'm losing my cool again. But look at me! Look at these Muggle clothes! Oh my god...

Harry runs his eyes up and down me. "I don't really have a problem with the pants. Leather looks good on you Drake." His voice deepens a little as he says it.

Hmm. Never thought of it that way, but with the way Harry's looking at me right now... I may end up thanking Ron and 'Mione.

I slide over next to him and think what McGonagall's face will look like when she sees us like this. "Ready when you are, love."

He pushes the door the Great Hall open and we step inside.

Maybe waiting so long wasn't a good idea. Everyone's all ready here. And there's a huge silence the second we walk in... I'm pretty sure McGonagall just dropped her pumpkin juice all over Professor Sinistra. Where did Hermione get these things from anyway? The girl is evil! Actually it's pretty Slytherin of her. Now it's difficult to be pouty... Damn.

I scan Harry out of habit before we go any further. Ok, so I can't complain about that. I've said before he's gorgeous and he is. Leather pants the same color of his hair, and a dark green shirt that makes him seem very toned and good looking. My drop dead gorgeous Gryffindor.

"I can't believe you actually dressed like that!" squeals Hermione, running over to hug us, her face shining and happy. She didn't think we were going to do it? Well that would have saved me a lot of trouble. She's pulled her hair up and the blue dress she's wearing suits her. Ron's cleaned himself up as well. Not that I'm looking. Or was I? Oh my god, I think I just checked out Ron. I might die right now.

It seems like 'Mione's comment breaks the tension and we're greeted with taunts and insults but also with catcalls and wolf whistles. Jealous Draco is emerging. If anyone lays a finger on Harry they are dead! I don't like this crowd of well wishers - male and female - around my Harry. Grrr... beware of jealous boyfriend.

I turn around and grab his hand. "Come on Harry. Let's dance."

He grins at me, enjoying being ridiculous. I drag him over to the dance floor and put my arms around his neck. He's got his on my back and we dance slowly, moving gently to the sound of the Weird Sisters from the front of the hall.

I slide my hand down to his back pocket, pushing my face into the crook of his neck, breathing in the smell of soap and sweat and leather. Yeah, I think I'm warming up to the idea of the leather pants. Very sensual, leather against leather. I lick slowly up his neck. He shivers a little.

"No ones watching," I whisper gently.

The Weird Sisters start another song, faster this time, and Harry and I begin to move ardently, brushing our hips together, because no one is watching us. And I don't fucking care if they were. The Valentine's Day Ball is about people being together. About love right? Everyone's kissing, dancing together. We're not any different, Harry and me. (Except for the guy thing. But I tend to overlook that.)

Time passes, dancing and laughing and snogging. Hermione is straddling Ron over there in the corner. Wasn't expecting to see that. And did Uncle Sev just smile? It's official; we are in the Twilight Zone witches and wizards. But as long as Harry's here with me, I'm ok.

Harry twists around and we kiss, hot and sweaty. I twine my arms around him, smiling as I whisper. "You're beautiful." You see how beautiful you are? Energetic and happy? It's like looking at life.

"Not as much as you are."

I'll argue that later. No one's as beautiful as he is, not with hair cut and spiked a little, and those eyes staring at me no matter where I go. I love him too, but right now you could smell the sex between us. I kiss him and he leans up against me, his hands everywhere as we dance one more song. And we both know when this one ends we leave.

We're picking up where Ron cut us off two months ago. And if he comes in this time: by God, I will not be responsible for my actions!

We walk slowly out of the Great Hall, not caring that everyone can see us and know what we're going to do. Why should we care? I see 'Mione smile faintly and even Ron manages not to look downright disgusted. Harry brings my clasped hand up to his lips and kisses it. The doors of the Hall slam behind us as we head for the stairs.

I laugh, feeling utterly without control. "God Harry, do you know what you do to me?" His only response is to kiss me soundly. I'll overlook the small moaning noise I made.

We don't stop kissing until we reach the second floor. And somewhere on either the third floor - or the fourth - Harry loses his shirt. I wasn't sure we were going to make it to the Gryffindor common room on the sixth but somehow we do, leaning up against the portrait of the Pink Lady.

"Password," she asks us, sounding utterly amused.

Harry pulls away from me a bit and I growl a little at the loss of contact. You're so warm, Harry, and I need you so much. Don't let go of me like that. Promise?

"Shakespeare," he rasps, his breathing uneven as I trace circles on his chest. His hand has slid under my shirt and is caressing the most interesting places...

"All right then boys, in you go. And try to make it to your bed and not just the common room couch."

"Mmhmm."

We manage to work our way through the portrait hole, stumbling over the opening and grasping Harry tighter to me. Thank God no one decided to be antisocial and not go, because they would have gotten quite the show.

We manage to untangle ourselves long enough to pull off our shoes and socks. I'm done first and I launch myself at Harry, nuzzling and stroking every bit of him. Harry. Mine. Mine mine mine. My Harry. God I want him so much...

We stumble up the stairs again, much like before, and Harry pushes me onto the bed; stripping my pants off of me quickly and not so gently. Which is fine with me and oh so very tantalizing. I arch up against him, greedily touching and kissing him. Before was sweet and gentle but tonight is fast and carnal, not worse but different. His tongue flicks over my bellybutton, sliding down into where hip becomes thigh.

I like the way his breath hitches when I kiss him. I adore that he's ticklish on his right side near his hip. And I love that I have this affect on him. I love that I do this to him and no one else can.

I ache for him. I reach and grab his face, nipping on his lower lip. He straddles me and everything feels right now. That's the only thing that's happening. Everything has been condensed to Harry and me, right here, right now.

I put my hands on his hips, curving up against him.

"Please..." I whisper. I stare into the face of this one man whom I love above all things. It's painful sometimes. But I love him.

"Draco..."

"Yours," I whimper uncontrollably. "Make me yours, please." I want you Harry. I want you inside of me.

It was like the last time and the first time rolled into one. We screamed and scratched and loved each other like it was the last chance we ever would. Like we would never let go. We explored every inch of each other and marked it as our own. We whispered of how we loved each other, how we would be together. We fell asleep in each other's arms, an intricate mess of limbs.

Time was nothing. We were only 17 and we had what some people never find at all. Love. The kind of love that makes you reach out for each other as you sleep. The kind of love that runs hot and cold because everyday you see that person in a new way. It's the kind of love that you know will hurt you in the end but you still want it. Because, what's better than love?

I woke up the next morning smiling. A bit sticky, a bit sore, but very, very happy. Harry's all ready awake and he's smiling too, that same sappy, happy smile that I don't really mind right now. And I hope I never do.

"Love you."

"Love you too."

We get up quietly and head to the showers. It's early still and no ones there. We wash each other's hair and Harry catches me when I step out of the shower and fall. Thank heaven he has Seeker reflexes at least.

God he is beautiful. He's standing in front of the sink, attempting to straighten out his hair and he should look funny but he just looks gorgeous. I come over and kiss the crook of his neck, that little spot that I love so much. Maybe I was a vampire in another life or something, because no matter where we are whenever I see the spot of skin I want it.

"Can I have this spot?" I whisper. "No matter what, just give me this one... little... space..." I tell him, punctuating each pause with a kiss. In my eyes Harry's perfectly formed but that little curve from his neck to his shoulder is just beautiful.

"It's yours," he smiles. "But if that's all you want..."

"I take it back, it's all mine!" I'm greedy. I'll admit it. He's mine mine mine, as I've said before.

He's back to fixing his hair, trying desperately for the back to lay straight.

I hum quietly in the back of my throat. "That's a lost cause, love." And it looks so adorable rumpled like that.

He sighs and gives it one last brushing. "I know." He turns around and looks puzzled. "Draco? Drake? What's wrong?"

Me, that's what's wrong! I just looked in the mirror. Who the hell is that guy in the mirror? Where did he come from?

This is not Draco, my sub-conscious stubbornly insists. This boy looks much too happy. And those eyes look so much more blue than silver-gray. And that hair... Draco would never leave his hair free like that. And this boy seems to glow almost. I'm pale and bland-looking. This isn't really me, is it?

"Is this how you see me?" I whisper, reaching out to touch the glass. "I don't look like I did." Where's the milk-faced boy with the steel eyes and the scowl? Was I that ready to say goodbye to him?

Harry smiles brilliantly. "You're better looking, even more than that idiot. I told you you were beautiful."

I smile at him. Only because you made me so.

We finished getting dressed and headed to Dumbledore's office for the latest meeting of the Order of the Phoenix. Harry, Ron, Hermione and I were officially inducted right after the New Year. As we were still students we weren't allowed on missions and often weren't told the whole story, but it was better than being totally out of the loop.

Things were awkward at first. Remus Lupin was there, and it was partly my fault he was fired. I kept getting these little pinprickings of guilt. Stupid conscience. And Sirius didn't like me much I think. But I didn't back down. I never have. It's more a fault than a virtue most times, but this time it paid off. Harry and I would always walk in holding hands, sitting next to each other, and protecting each other. Uncle Sev even lightened up on him in class. And that, my friends, is a miracle indeed.

But this meeting was not so light-hearted. Death Eaters had killed another Muggle family. The Ministry was being completely close-mouthed, and people were panicked because of it. And it was only going to get worse before it got better.

"Lucius was sentenced to three months in Azkaban for what we found in his house." Mr. Weasley was giving his report on what was going on in the Ministry. "It should have been at least triple that. He's still got connections, though whether they're Fudge or lesser-knowns, we have no idea."

The news didn't affect me. The day I heard he'd been sent to Azkaban I nearly cried with relief. Mother had sent me two letters since then, carefully worded and stiflingly polite in case they were intercepted. What really mattered was that she sent them, right?

"The attack in Essex was pretty straightforward. The usual," he hedged, seeing that 'the Odd Four' were paying a lot of attention. "Family of five Muggles, all dead."

"The Auror Academy is no longer supporting the Ministry," Tonks begins her monthly update, her now red and curly hair bouncing cheerily around. "It's instructing all its students to go rogue or free-lance. Which means that, with a little bit of luck, most of them will probably end up with us. And with a graduating class of 30, 15 all ready willing to join us, we're actually in pretty good shape on the front."

Mad Eye grunts. "All our Aurors are doing well, except for Graemus. He was poisoned in the last raid. Did quite the number on him. But he'll be up and around in about a week."

"Remus?" Albus prods. "Any news?"

He sighed and brushed his hand back through his hair. "Of course not. How can I recruit people who've been mistreated for the last hundred years? Not to mention I've got nothing to promise them. Voldemort has us completely beat there. He's told them there would be no restrictions on them at all, while the Ministry has so many rules they can barely take a piss without a permit." New wrinkles appear at the corners of his eyes. "I don't think we're going to get anywhere with the wilds or half-wilds. Anyone born to it. Only the ones infected during their lives like me."

Ouch. Not good. The werewolves could make us or break us. Everyone in the room looked severely disappointed.

"I'm sure you did your best," I reassure him. "Voldemort has a lot of sway over creatures whose natural instincts demand death and destruction."

Remus smiles at me a little but Sirius just stares.

"What? Oh, right. I'm the evil Malfoy boy. Lemme revise that. You stupid git, you can't even manage to recruit a few werewolves?" I give him the death glare. "That more like what you were expecting?"

Harry sniggers and even Dumbledore looks faintly amused. "Now that Draco has demonstrated his schizophrenia, would the four of you like to tell us what the students are thinking?"

We all exchange uneasy glances.

"The Gryffindors are completely behind you and the fact that You-Know-Who's returned," Ron says.

"... But the Ravenclaws aren't so sure. You know them. They want some hard-core evidence. They believe You-Know-Who's back, but they don't know if they're on your side of the Ministry's, Hermione continues matter-of-factly. "About 25% are with you, 25% with the Ministry, and 50% aren't sure."

"And the Hufflepuffs are being led around blindly as usual. All those with parents in the Ministry are loyal to them, and the rest are loyal to you. Probably 2/3 of the house. Lot of good that does us. Ruddy Hufflepuffs." There's usually a lot of Hufflepuff bashing because no one in the Order has ever been in it. Gryffindors galore, Slytherins abound, and there's a handful of Ravenclaws, but no Hufflepuffs.

But now it's my turn. Why do I always have to be the bringer of bad news? Just don't hex the messenger.

"The Slytherins know Voldemort's back. Mostly because their parents were there when it happened," I say cuttingly. "Most would hex you while your back is turned, Headmaster. There are a few... who share our views. I think it would almost be wise to have them moved to their own dormitory."

"Who?"

"Pansy Parkinson. I don't like her, but for now she's a Neutral, and her parents aren't Death Eaters. And there are two brothers, a Second Year and a Third Year. They get up and leave the room anytime someone starts in about being purebloods and Voldemort and things like that. They could very well support you. Benton or something."

"Harrison and Adam?"

"Sounds about right. I don't dare ask too many questions, except for Blaise. Blaise's parents are both Death Eaters, but I don't think he wants to be. Could be worth checking out. As for the rest, they're on dear old Voldie's side all the way," I finish cheerfully.

Dumbledore looks at me with a deliberately level gaze. "Moving them into their own dormitory?"

"Before they're converted. You can only be in the dirt so long before you get dirty too. I'm surprised Pansy's lasted this long. She's a pain in the ass, but she's not a Death Eater. I'm still trying to figure out how the Bentons got in Slytherin in the first place. They seem quite Gryffindorish. And not in a bad way," I hastily add.

Dumbledore scratches his chin. "Severus? Any way they could have their own dorm?"

He nods. "There's an unused room in the dungeon, but we'll need an excuse for why they get their own dorm."

"Can you think of anything?

He tilts his head to one side.

"You could say the Bentons's parents requested it," suggests Harry.

"But then Blaise and Pansy are on their own."

"Are they prefects?"

"That's it! Professor, if I give up my prefect spot then Blaise could have it. And you could remove Millicent Bulstrode as the girl prefect and Pansy could take it. That way they could get their own rooms."

Snape smirked. "Ms. Bulstrode failed her potions midterm, as a matter of fact; so that would work out rather nicely."

Ha, see? I'm a genius. And no one hexed the messenger.

"And where will you sleep Draco?" he asks, eyes twinkling.

I blush, but I'm also grateful. He's not going to mention in front of everyone that, 100 to 1, I'm going to be in Gryffindor Tower from now on. The man just knows these things. It's creepy. "I can stay in the regular dorms. It's just Crabbe and Goyle now since we'll move Blaise. I can handle them, though it won't be a pleasant experience."

"That's settled then. Severus, send all four of them up to my office after lunch today."

"Of course Headmaster." He's so civil when he's up here. I swear he's not half so bad as he seems.

"Sirius? Anything to add?'

He growls a little. "There's whispers of an attack Voldemort's planning. Something big. Not Muggles. On the Ministry or a school. Maybe even Hogwarts."

Attacking Hogwarts? That's a bit dense, isn't it?

"Whose stupid enough to talk about things like that?" Ron blurts.

"Lucius mutters things in his sleep at Azkaban. It's not an uncommon problem," Sirius remarks bitterly.

"As much as it pains me to say it, Black is right. Voldemort's been working on this for while," Uncle Sev sneers. Except when he sneers. Then it's bad. "If it's a school it's certainly not Durmstrang though. He gets far too many Death Eaters from there."

Dumbledore scratches his chin a bit. "Mad Eye, any ideas on security for the school?"

More grunts. Can't the man talk?

"Shield spells. They're pretty exhausting but once they're up they're up. If anyone tried to break in they'd give you about five minutes before they broke. Not to say that a decent blast of magic won't bring 'em down. But it's better than nothing."

"Can you do them yourself?"

"It's a big area to cover. If Remus and Sirius would give me a few hours of their time before they head off again we'd be ok."

"Sure."

"No problem."

"Well," crowed Dumbledore. "That's done with. Off to breakfast and classes."

"Classes?" Ron chokes. "Isn't a Saturday?"

"Oh, quite right. Dear me, I did forget."

"You nearly gave me a heart attack, that's what you did!"

"Ronald Weasley!" scolded his father, outraged.

"No, it's all right Arthur," he chuckled. "I used to have the same reaction myself."

A thought just occurred to me. When Harry and I headed for the showers this morning, Ron wasn't in his bed. Where oh where could he have been? I feel a smirk rise up to my face. This could be fun.

I lean over and whisper in his ear. "I'm sure your father would be interested to hear where you were last night."

He's horrified. "You wouldn't!"

I flop back into my chair, defeated. "You're right, I wouldn't. Stupid Gryffindors and your conversions. I can't even properly threaten you anymore."

He grins. "For a second there I thought you were serious and had gone all Slytherin on us."

"Nope. No more amnesia thanks." We all know how well that turned out. Criminy, they're turning me all good and... and... not evil and stuff! I look at Ron and Hermione, the first real friends I've ever had, smiling a little. Could be worse.

"You were certainly in the dirt long enough."

I turn around to see Sirius looming over me.

"Excuse me?"

" 'You can only be in the dirt so long before you get dirty too'. That's what you said."

I stare at him. He still thinks I'm out to get Harry. I start to get angry but suddenly I'm not. My eyes have caught Harry's from across the room and he's smiling gently at me, that smile that tells me he loves me and makes me feel like we're the only people in the world.

"Sometimes..." I say thoughtfully. "Sometimes you get lucky, and someone picks you up and hoses you off." I smile back at Harry, not hugely or brightly, but insanely, madly, truly, in love. So what if Sirius doesn't like me? We all ready established that if I was looking for people's approval I would not be with Harry Potter. We give dysfunctional a whole new definition. You look it up in the couple's dictionary and we'd be right there, smiling and waving. I have flaws. He has flaws and I see them. I of all people know about flaws. We're not perfect as parts, but as a whole we come pretty damn close.

"You really do love him." Sirius voice snaps me out of my internal revelation. He's studying my face closely and he looks surprised. Whoohoo, I've startled him twice in one day. It's a bloody record.

"I told you that before. Many times as I recall." Stupid prat of a godfather.

"Yeah, well, excuse me for not believing an heir to a Death Eater fortune." He blows a breath out noisily through his lips. "It's just that... well, with this job you never know if today is the day you die."

"You never really know that anyway." Hey, I could die right now from a heart attack... or a brain aneurysm... or the roof could fall in... or aliens could abduct me... or Sirius could kill me off with one of his death glares. None of which sounds particularly appealing.

He laughs ruefully, picking neurotically at one of his fingernails. "That's true too. But... you do love him. And what I'm trying to say is... that if I die, you take care of Harry. And however far this goes, if you end up just friends or if, god-forbid-cause-I-don't-want-to-think-about-it... marry him... take care of him for me," he finishes seriously.

Another shocker. Talk about a moment. Sirius sort of kind of gave me permission to marry Harry. That was not what I was expecting to happen on a Saturday morning. Especially after the third degree. He bit the bullet with that one.

"I'll take care of him no matter what." We were joking before but I say this seriously. I'll watch after him forever.

He nods. "You will, won't you?" Puzzled, he stares down at me a second more before shaking his head. "I never thought I would see the day a Malfoy became a Marauder."

I smile a bit. "Never thought I'd see the day Harry told me he loved me, but hey, this just proves my theory. Fate is one weird bitch."

He smiles. I can tell he appreciates my saying. "That she is." He looks me over once more, still a bit confused about the whole thing before making his way toward Dumbledore and saying his good-byes.

I saunter over to Harry, feeling very smug.

"What were you two talking about?"

I sit next to him on the armchair, my left leg resting carefully on his right and kiss him gently. "Fate."

"Really?"

"And dirt, and hosing, and marriage."

He raises an eyebrow. "If you don't want to tell me, just say so, it's not a big deal."

I laugh. "No, really. And he called me a Marauder. I think he officially handed the title over to you, me, Ron, and 'Mione."

"Well, I solemnly swear I am up to no good," Harry grinned smugly. "What do you say we go back to the Tower?"

And did I mention this perfect boyfriend of mine is a genius as well?

Fate is a weird bitch. Things never go the way you expect. Uncle Sev and Sirius had the right idea when they said an attack was coming. But at Hogwarts? We didn't really believe it. Beauxbatons, surely, or another wizarding school. The Ministry of Magic. Not Hogwarts. Hogwarts was safe and protected... Hogwarts was home.

But it was Hogwarts. This was where it had started... and where it would end. If nothing else you have to appreciate Voldemort's single-mindedness. He wanted Harry, he wanted Dumbledore and he wanted Hogwarts, and he was getting them all in one fell swoop. But he wouldn't. Not if the rest of us had anything to say about it. But that begs the question... do we really have a say in the workings of fate? Can we really control what happens to us? Can we prevent what is supposed to happen?

Fate's a weird bitch, and I don't know if she likes me much.