Chapter One

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry – St. Mungo's Hospital

December 1997

'Well you're not getting any worse.'

Harry Potter glared towards his friend Daphne Greengrass, who stared at him critically in return, a hint of playfulness in her hazel eyes.

'It's not my fault I can't dance,' Harry muttered irritably, leaning against a wall to catch his breath.

'Come on, we still have an hour until our next class,' Daphne said with ruthless determination. 'Let's at least attempt to teach you how to move without stepping on your partner's feet.'

With a groan, Harry pushed off the wall and moved toward the blonde-haired girl. She was a harsh taskmaster, but it was the only way Harry was going to be ready in time for the Yule Ball.

With a flick of her wand, Daphne started the old phonograph in the corner, which came to life and filled the room they were practicing in with the melody of a smooth waltz.

Carefully placing his hands in the correct positions, Harry reminded himself not to stare at his feet as they started to move. At the cost of keeping his eyes on Daphne's face, within a minute he had stepped on the pureblood's toes three times.

Eventually Daphne pulled away, and said with true exasperation in her voice, 'Enough. We're just not getting anywhere.'

With a mixture of relief and disappointment welling up inside of him, Harry turned off the phonograph with a flick of wandless magic. Daphne barely blinked at the show of powerful magic, having watched Harry complete many such feats in the past year. He no longer hid his capabilities, at least not in front of his friends, and only used a wand when in class.

'What are you two doing?'

Turning around, Harry and Daphne spotted their friend Draco Malfoy leaning against the doorway to the chamber they were in, grey eyes curious.

'Daphne's been teaching me how to dance,' Harry explained.

'Trying to teach you how to dance,' Daphne corrected.

A smirk flitted across Draco's face and he asked in a tone of voice that Harry would have interpreted as malicious if he hadn't known the pureblood so well, 'Not having any luck?'

Harry scowled at Draco whilst Daphne cried indignantly, 'I'd like to see you try and teach him! The minute he starts to dance it's like he has the grace of a flobberworm.'

'Thanks for the encouragement Daph,' Harry muttered sarcastically.

Daphne made a face that would have made her etiquette teacher cry, drawing a bout of laughter from Draco.

Looking at the Malfoy heir, Harry felt a warm burst of happiness in his chest at the reminder that the pureblood teen had finally opened up to him. They had, had a cautious beginning; with Draco making it clear he was only interested in Harry for the sake of an advantageous connection. However after Draco had been kidnapped by Fleur Delacour and had finally returned to school shortly before Harry himself, a change had occurred in him, at least around those he trusted. Perhaps the experience had shaken him enough to seek out people to confide in, Harry was not entirely sure.

In public he was the cold and collected Malfoy heir, but like Daphne, he had finally learned to balance the image he presented to society and the one he shared with those he deemed reliable. It was a welcome change, and Harry knew that between Draco, Daphne and Luna his time at Hogwarts was worth every moment spent away from his lover.

'Why is Daph teaching you to dance anyway?' Draco asked questioningly. 'I've seen you dance with the Dark Lord, even just recently at the Mabon celebration a few months back. You were actually quite good.'

'That's the thing; I only look good because I am dancing with the Dark Lord. He has a way of making even the most incompetent dancer look talented as long as they're by his side.' Harry looked dejected as he said this, because despite feeling co-ordinated and graceful when with his lover, he knew the minute he changed partners it would reveal the truth of his ineptitude.

'Ah of course,' Draco said, finally understanding. 'You're going to have to dance with multiple partners at the Yule Ball.'

It was tradition that on the night of the winter solstice there was to be a great feast, the longest night of the year passed with full stomachs and in good company. The following day was an opportunity for family and friends to exchange gifts. The night of the next day, after the day of giving and receiving, was when the Yule Ball was being held.

The Dark Lord was hosting the three days of celebration at the Citadel, with many notable pureblood families and Ministry officials alike being invited. It was an opportunity for Harry to win over reticent purebloods that were disgruntled with his campaigning over the past year to bring equality to wizarding Britain.

The previous year the Dark Lord had abstained from holding the celebration, as he did not wish to compromise Harry's safety by inviting hundreds of people to the Citadel, not after his kidnapping. Even though there had been balls and celebrations after this time, Harry had never been expected to leave the Dark Lord's side.

There was no chance to remain by his lover for this celebration though. It was a crucial opportunity to impress the purebloods and win them over. Yet if he couldn't even dance without his lover holding his hand, how in Merlin's name was he going to survive through the political minefield to come?

Feeling exhausted, Harry sat down on the floor of the chamber and buried his head between his knees, hands clasped loosely in front.

'I am so screwed.'

Daphne sat beside him with a sigh, carefully rearranging her school uniform so it would not crinkle. She bumped his shoulder comfortingly with her own as she said, 'It's only the fifteenth. Including today we still have five more days of school left before the holidays and the start of Yuletide.'

Harry was surprised when Draco moved to claim the position on his other side, the pureblood wrinkling his nose slightly at the sight of the dusty flagstones before steeling himself and sitting down.

'I can help too, if you want. It's important for you to practice with both a male and female partner,' Draco said in an instructional manner. 'As the future Lord Consort you will be a sought-after dance partner at the Ball.'

'Don't remind me,' Harry moaned.

Daphne forcibly grabbed his jaw and jerked his head up to meet her hazel eyes. 'We can do this,' she promised, fingers tight against his face. 'Draco and I are going to get you ready for the Yule Ball, and you're going to show all of those people that you are the best and only candidate for the position of Lord Consort.'

Daphne had a way of making people follow her, through sheer strength of will and character. Harry often felt equal parts respect and slight fear when the blonde-haired girl set her mind on something.

If Daphne Greengrass said something was going to happen, it was going to happen.

Arriving for a double period of Healing at the end of the day, Harry and Daphne slipped into the back of the class and found seats on either side of Luna. Daphne did not even raise a fuss about sitting next to Luna, not like she would have done in the past. The two girls had a healthy regard for one another, and despite not being close; they each considered the other an ally.

'What did we miss, Luna?' Harry asked the dreamy Seer, observing their fellow classmates bustle around the classroom collecting potions and filling the space with the sound of excited chatter.

'The seventh year students are going to St. Mungo's for some practical training. Madame Pomfrey is staying behind to teach the sixth year students,' Luna informed Harry. Then a beat later she said, 'You're going to be late if you don't hurry.'

Sure enough, Madame Pomfrey was ushering the first seventh year student into a fireplace, no doubt connected via the Floo network to the wizarding hospital. Each student was carrying their medical kit, complete with the essentials.

'Thanks Luna!' Harry said as he grabbed Daphne and pulled her over to the cupboard where their kits were kept. Once they were fully equipped, the duo was just in time to be checked off by Madame Pomfrey and sent through the fireplace.

Daphne went first, disappearing in a flash of emerald fire, and as Harry made to follow her, a gentle hand held him back.

'A quick word, Mr Potter?' the school's matron asked.

'Of course.'

Ignoring the sixth year students who watched them with curiosity – besides Luna who seemed mightily interested in the dust mites billowing in the light of the window – Madame Pomfrey cast a silencing charm so that their conversation would remain private.

'I wanted to assure you that the staff of St. Mungo's have been instructed to have the utmost discretion in regards to your person being present at the hospital this afternoon. Should any reporters arrive, they will be turned away by security,' the matron promised with steely surety in her voice. 'Furthermore, the Dark Lord himself has given approval for you to leave the castle's wards, with the expectation that you will be guarded for the duration of your hospital visit.'

Harry blinked; surprised that he might not have been allowed to attend the practical training session if his future husband had not given his consent. He understood his lover's determination to never allow Harry to be kidnapped or harmed again, after the events of last year, and especially considering their shared magical core and its dangerous implications.

But Harry was seventeen years old now, legally an adult and fully capable of making his own decisions. If he could propose new laws and abolish old ones, then surely he was mature enough to attend a school training program without the Dark Lord having to get involved.

Realising that Madame Pomfrey was waiting for some sort of confirmation from him, Harry offered her a tight smile and asked, 'Who will be guarding me while at St. Mungo's?'

He appreciated the protective gesture, but sharing a magical core with the Dark Lord himself had given Harry an impressive reserve of power to utilise. If there was a fight, Harry knew he would probably end up guarding his security.

'I believe a certain Remus Lupin will be meeting you on the other side.'

Harry smiled genuinely at that, recognising his lover's attempt at a compromise. The Dark Lord was ensuring Harry would be protected, but at the same time choosing someone who the young man would enjoy being around.

'Thank you Madame Pomfrey,' Harry said, and as the woman gave him a kindly nod in return and brought down the privacy ward, Harry scooped up a handful of Floo powder and stepped into the grate of the fireplace.

'St. Mungo's foyer!' Harry called out clearly and threw the powder down.

He was pulled away in a swirl of heatless flame and whirled through the network in a sickeningly fast blur.

When he touched down, months of practice going to and from venues for different meetings and gatherings, gave Harry the ability to barely stumble as he left the fireplace.

In the marbled foyer he recognised Daphne immediately, the hazel-eyed girl looking mildly impatient as she waited for Harry to arrive; as well as Remus Lupin, the ex-Order member.

Daphne knew that Remus Lupin was an old family friend of the Potter clan, having met the man in the months after Harry's escape from the Order of the Phoenix. She had also briefly met Sirius Black and Hermione Granger, when a visit of hers during the summer holidays had coincided with one of Harry's meetings with his godfather and foster-sister.

Hermione was living with Sirius at number 12 Grimmauld Place, the ancestral home of the House of Black, while she completed her magical training at one of the centres that had been established under new laws Harry had legislated. She could have received accommodation in the centre itself, as most ex-serviles did, but Harry had insisted she live somewhere closer to the Citadel.

Sirius, perhaps eager to appease Harry and earn his trust and approval, had offered to accept Hermione as his ward and have her live with him. Hermione had been receptive to the idea, and so now whenever Harry visited his godfather he could also enjoy catching up with his foster-sister.

Things were not as tentative between Harry and Sirius as they had been when the young man had begun attending supervised visits, the older man's easy-going nature and devilish sense of humour smoothing the way to a relationship. Nowadays the surveillance and restrictions on Sirius had slackened, at Harry's request, and the Dark Lord trusted his younger lover when he claimed the pureblood man was no threat.

Sirius had even relinquished a valuable tool in the form of a priceless and exceptionally rare Invisibility Cloak, that had once belonged to Harry's father and had been in the Potter family for generations. He had gifted it to Harry for his seventeenth birthday, along with an intriguing map that showed him a detailed diagram of Hogwarts and everyone in it, as well as a photo album filled with pictures of his parents and their friends. Needless to say, it had been his favourite gift, aside from his lover's surprise of an official proposal of marriage.

It was an informal agreement between them that they were to be wedded after Harry's graduation in six months time, with only the press and the Dark Lord's followers making a great deal out of the entire affair at this point in time.

However the gesture from the Dark Lord, to make the process more formal and traditional, was both welcome and heart-warming. He had not gotten down on one knee as Harry had perhaps half-expected, but had in the privacy of their chamber, the night after the celebrations for the future Consort's birthday, presented him with the proposal and the promise-band.

Harry now bore the silver ring upon his finger, and had dipped into his own wealth as the Lord Potter to purchase a promise-band of his own for his lover. Whenever Harry caught sight of the flash of silver upon the Dark Lord's hand, he felt a surge of pleasure that the powerful and brilliant man was his, just as he was Lord Voldemort's in return.

'Harry!' Daphne called out, giving his arm a little shake to gain back his attention.

With a slightly bewildered smile on his face, thoughts still on his lover, Harry realised he had been standing in the hospital's foyer staring off into the distance. Remus had an amused look on his face, his amber eyes tender as he gazed at his best friend's son, but it was Daphne who huffed out, 'I wish you and the Dark Lord would just hurry up and get married, so you can stop with the dramatic gazing into horizon and the Merlin-damned pining!'

Remus choked at the sight of the usually reserved pureblood girl acting so unrestrained, a crooked smile even evident on her face. They were tucked away in a relatively secluded corner of the foyer, and so there was no need for the girl to don her pureblood mask.

Harry laughed, moving closer to Daphne and hooking his arm through hers, leaning in to admit, 'Daph I think we both know the pining won't stop, even after I finally marry him. Especially if we're separated by our duties like we are now.'

'Harry you saw him yesterday evening,' Daphne replied in a deadpan.

'Exactly!' Harry cried in mock-despair. 'I have not seen him at all today, and I won't see him until Wednesday when we meet for dinner!'

'The woes of your life,' Daphne drawled, and it reminded Harry so poignantly of Draco that a startled burst of laughter escaped from him.

Daphne smirked in return, increasing the resemblance even more so, before Remus coughed politely, fighting off a grin of his own as he reminded the pair that they did have a practical training session to complete.

After that he and Daphne were separated, each being assigned to a different supervising Healer. The person Harry was relegated to, a brown haired middle-aged woman named Healer Wright, did not bat an eye at Remus' presence at Harry's back, nor did she bow or scrape when she recognised Harry's identity.

In short, Harry liked her immediately.

'You're in luck today, Mr Potter,' she said, tossing a glance over her shoulder as she walked briskly through the busy corridors of the hospital. Remus and Harry were hurrying to keep up with the Healer's fast pace. 'For your practical training this afternoon you will be assisting me in the maternity ward.'

Harry's eyes widened slightly and Healer Wright grinned in a distinctly shark-like manner. Remus inputted, slightly queasy, 'We won't be…in the actual labour rooms will we?' There was a note of horrified desperation in his voice at the mere thought.

'Well it would be worthwhile to give young Mr. Potter some hands-on experience with the wonders of birth now that you mention it,' she murmured in a contemplative manner.

Remus looked like he was about to turn tail and run. Harry wasn't sure how he felt about this at all. Then Healer Wright shook her head, with a barely audible 'Men,' under her breath and said more clearly, 'Of course we won't be in the labour rooms.'

Remus' relief was palpable.

They turned a corner and found themselves in the ward dedicated to parents both expecting and recently having given birth. There were orderlies rushing to and forth, as well as visiting guests bearing gifts.

'Well then let's get started,' Healer Wright said, the hustle of the ward ineffective in affecting her calm demeanour.

Three hours later Harry was meeting the other seventh year students in the foyer to return to school. Some looked inspired by their hands-on experience this afternoon, whilst others looked sickened, perhaps only realising now the types of situations Healers had to deal with. It wasn't all success and happy endings, even with the incredible aid of magic.

Daphne had, had one of the more difficult assignments, working with her supervisor in the Creature-Induced-Injuries ward, and despite the challenge, she had found it worthwhile. As they waited for their turn to step into the fireplace and return to Hogwarts, Daphne spoke animatedly about how she had helped re-wrap the bandages on a patient who had been badly burned by a Blast-Ended-Skrewt.

When she had curiously asked where Harry had been assigned he had informed his friend that he had spent the past three hours in the maternity ward. Daphne's face morphed into a frown and she muttered, 'Thank Merlin I didn't get that assignment. I detest babies.'

Harry blinked in surprise at this admittance and replied, 'I had no idea.' Then, thinking of Daphne's status as the heiress of the Greengrass family and her duty to her family in providing an heir he asked as unobtrusively as possible, 'What will you do when you need a successor?'

Daphne tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and responded flippantly, 'I do have a younger sister, you know. I am confident Astoria will be able to produce an heir to succeed me.'

'But what of your future husband?' Harry pressed, confused at Daphne's dismissive attitude. He though purebloods took such matters seriously. 'Won't he desire an heir for his own fortune?'

'I am sure Theo will not pressure me into bearing him an heir,' she responded confidently. 'Besides, he has an older male cousin who is already married with a baby on the way. He would be more than happy to continue the Nott family line.'

This brought yet another shock to Harry, and he lowered his voice even though they were at the back of the queue for the fireplace and Remus was hovering further away, his work nearly finished for the afternoon with Harry returning the safety of Hogwarts' wards.

'So it's official? I didn't know your parents had finalised a marriage contract with the Nott family.' Within his question was a hint of hurt that Daphne had not even bothered to share this important information with him.

'Theo and I signed the papers on Saturday,' she admitted, her face suddenly blank. 'We're both now seventeen years old, and once we have graduated I am sure our wedding will be quick to follow. Who knows, maybe I will get married around the same time as you.'

Daphne's attempt at her usual light-hearted banter fell terribly flat. Harry was shocked to see the hopeless anger in his friend's eyes and the defeated slump of her shoulders. This was Daphne Greengrass, confident, strong and proud. Only a few hours earlier she had convinced him that she would get him ready for the Yule Ball, her strength of will inspiring Harry to keep trying. Yet right now she looked like a helpless child.

'You don't want to marry him.' There was no question in Harry's voice. The answer was painfully clear.

Daphne closed her eyes momentarily, and when she opened them again she had gathered her pureblood mask and was straight-backed and firm once more.

'Theodore has been my friend since we were little. Our betrothal contract has been in place for three years now. This is simply making official what I have known since I was fourteen,' Daphne replied in a methodical voice, as though she were reasoning with herself as much as she was with Harry.

It became apparent then why Daphne had not told Harry about the finalising of her marriage contract. She was trying to deal with this on her own before it became public knowledge.

'You don't love him,' Harry sighed.

'Of course I don't,' Daphne muttered sharply. 'I feel affection for him as my oldest friend, but not as one feels for a lover. Not like what you and the Dark Lord share.'

Harry was startled to hear the barely-disguised envy in Daphne's voice and he was struck by how fortunate he was, being able to marry the person he wanted, by his own choice.

Before they could continue their conversation, Remus approached and said softly, 'You should both hurry back; you don't want to miss dinner.'

Looking at the now non-existent line of students, Daphne moved forward, grabbing a handful of Floo powder. After she had left for Hogwarts, Remus mentioned to Harry casually, 'You both seemed like you were having a rather serious conversation. Anything I can help with?'

Harry smiled at the werewolf, and shook his head. 'So, how long you are going to be in Britain for?'

It wasn't a particularly eloquent change in conversation, but Remus took it in stride and said with a hint of bemusement in his voice, 'The Dark Lord has invited me to attend the three day celebration at the Citadel. It seems that with my pack's advancement to the largest in France, I am now a figure of note.'

Harry hid a wince at the reminder of the event coming up, and replied, 'It also helps that you were one of the people to aid in my return to Britain after I was kidnapped. That gives you the Dark Lord's favour. He posted you to guard me this afternoon did he not?'

Remus smiled and drew Harry into a hug before holding him back at arms length and asking, 'Are you able to come visit Sirius and, of course, Hermione before the Yuletide period? I know both are eager to see you.'

Harry hadn't had the opportunity to visit his godfather and foster sister for a couple of weeks due to other commitments as the future Dark Consort, and technically he shouldn't be visiting them regardless, as the other students didn't have the luxury of leaving the school on the weekends. Being the Dark Lord's lover certainly did come with its benefits.

'I will see if I can drop in this Saturday for a few hours,' Harry promised.

'Well then, I won't keep you any longer,' Remus said with a gentle smile and released his hold on Harry. The young man knew the werewolf needed these small opportunities of contact, to appease his inner wolf and reassure it that its pack member was well.

'Will you be there on Saturday too?' Harry questioned.

Remus spent a lot of time while he was in Britain, visiting Sirius and properly catching up with his old friend like he couldn't when they were separated in different countries.

'I will most likely come over,' he agreed, before giving Harry a push in the direction of the fireplace.

Arriving back in the classroom where he took his theoretical lessons in Healing, Harry said goodbye to Madame Pomfrey, who had waited for his return, and returned his medical kit to the cupboard in the corner.

As he left the classroom, he nearly ran into Luna, who was lingering in the doorway, the silver in her eyes highlighted by the glow of the setting sun from the window in the opposite wall of the corridor.

'Luna,' Harry grinned in greeting. 'Were you waiting for me?'

'Well I was actually waiting to see if I could catch sight of some Nargles – I spotted a nest in the corridor earlier this afternoon. Unfortunately it appears they have slipped away yet again.' Her face was slightly despondent as she murmured this. Then she brightened as she said, 'Meeting you here was a welcome pleasure, though.'

Harry shook his head in fond exasperation at Luna's frank but warm demeanour, before offering to walk to dinner with her, because it was no doubt underway.

With his eccentric friend by his side, Harry made his way to the Great Hall, thoughts revolving around Daphne and her impossible situation, his experience at the hospital that afternoon and his lover. And of course the impending Yule Ball and his continued ineptitude at dancing.

Harry sensed the Dark Lord's presence before he saw him with his eyes, coming to an abrupt halt as his lover strode around the corner, his presence commanding attention and respect.

The Horcrux within Harry stirred at the arrival of Lord Voldemort, but a year of practice and training allowed Harry to brush it back down with barely a thought in doing so. It was as much apart of him as it was the Dark Lord these days.

'What has brought you to Hogwarts, my Lord?' Harry asked, perhaps purring the title a little, just to see those crimson eyes darken with desire. Although his lover had informed Harry he only had to use a title in a formal setting, Harry tended to use it whenever he pleased.

'I have some important news that could not wait for Wednesday,' Lord Voldemort responded, moving forward to draw Harry to his chest. Nimble fingers stroked his hair from his forehead and the Dark Lord continued, 'Let us retire to the ambassador's suite and I will enlighten you on the situation.'

Harry turned to apologise to Luna for having to leave, but the girl had already slipped away, as silent as Nagini when she was hunting her prey.

'After you have given me the news, you will stay, will you not?' Harry asked, leaning up on his toes to brush his lips to the Dark Lord's own. Their shared core trembled with intensity at their close proximity, and the Horcrux within Harry shivered, increasing the pleasure already thrumming through his veins.

'Of course,' the ruler of wizarding Britain responded, claiming his future Lord Consort's lips in a searing kiss.

Author's Note: Well, I'm back! I apologise for the long (very, very long) break. I appreciate your continued support with my writing :)

Also, I am still tossing up whether or not to add mpreg. There is a strong sentiment in support of it, but there is also a substantial movement against it. I am considering not adding it to this story but incorporating it to a new story in the future. What are your thoughts? Let me know!

Drops of Nightshade x