disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the characters (other than OCs). Credit for that goes to J.K. Rowling.

"Good evening! This is the Floo to Floo Show on the Wizarding Wireless Network, and I'm your host Ars Cloche. We've got a special program for you tonight, based on a remarkable discovery we've found: an old journal. Now you may ask, what's so special about a journal? I'll tell you now, gentle witches and wizards, it's a journal and a story. It's a harrowing tale of survival. Our protagonist only goes by the identifier of M-, but we don't need to know who M- is to hear her riveting tale. We don't know what end M- came to, though we can guess that it wasn't pretty. What we do know is M-'s journey as she loses her one defense, her wand, and falls into the hands of the muggles…"

Summer 1993

EXPLOSIVE CUSTODY BATTLE SHOCKS THE WIZARDING WORLD, the headline of the Daily Prophet read.

If Callidus hadn't been awake before, as he blearily padded down the wooden stairs, one hand on the railing while the other was lazily rubbing at his eyes, he was awake now. He didn't know why he would think the headline had anything to do with himself, and yet, as he recalled the events of only a few short weeks ago, he couldn't help but think that the headline was no mere coincidence.

Callidus was the only person at the breakfast table, surrounded by the scent of cooking bacon courtesy of the busy house elf. Ever since Madam Filodoxos had lost her potions job (under the most mysterious circumstances, though Callidus hadn't asked for details, despite having his own suspicions), she had a tendency to sleep in. And when Madam Filodoxos slept in, so too did Segnis Filodoxos. After all, job or jobless, Madam Filodoxos' personality was such that she couldn't help ruling the house. A queen deposed was still a queen at heart. As for their daughter, Caiside, she was likely having a lie-in as a matter of course. Caiside had never been a morning person.

He reached towards the newspaper, hesitant, as if expecting the paper to snap and bite him, before silently berating himself for his own foolishness. Why should he assume that the article had anything to do with himself, Harry, and Draco? Just because they happened to be blood brothers, it didn't mean anything, did it?

But as he unrolled the paper, revealing the moving photograph on the cover, his heart sank. There, on the front page, was a picture of Lucius Malfoy, in perfectly tailored robes with his snake-headed walking stick in hand, not a silver-blond hair out of place and his expression imperious. He had a look of a man who knew his place in the world, who knew that he sat at the top of the hierarchy, and no number of lurid headlines could ever topple him from his lofty position.

Lips thinned into a grim line, Callidus began to read.

It has been a summer of surprises, as loyal readers of the Daily Prophet will know. The first great shock of the summer came in early July, when Albus Dumbledore, Order of Merlin, first class, Headmaster of Hogwarts, Supreme Mugwump, and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, called for the case of the infamous Sirius Black to be reopened, believing that a grave miscarriage of justice had been committed.

It was a charge that rocked the Ministry of Magic, when it was discovered that Mr Black, assumed to be a mass murderer and follower of You-Know-Who, was sentenced to Azkaban without a trial. During the explosive hearing, Mr Black was questioned using veritaserum, presenting his evidence in the form of pensieve memories, decisively proving that it was one Peter Pettigrew who had committed the original murders, framing Mr Black, betraying James and Lily Potter, and condemning their only son and heir to a life as an orphan. Peter Pettigrew is still at large.

Mr Black was named the godfather of said orphan, the famous boy who lived, Harry Potter. It seemed like a happily ever after for our dear Harry Potter, whose very name warms the hearts and souls of witches and wizards all across Wizarding Britain. But alas, it was not to be.

This reporter has recently learned that the young Mr Potter is in fact blood brothers with two others: Draco Malfoy and Callidus Prince, both Hogwarts Housemates. To those readers who are unaware, brotherhood rituals, while not illegal, are heavily frowned upon due to the great risk to those involved, binding witches and wizards in such a way that they are both magical and legal kin. Lucius Malfoy, father of Draco Malfoy, has put forth the claim that it is the Malfoys who are legal guardians to both Mr Potter and Mr Prince, contesting the fitness of both Mr Black, and Mr Prince's guardians, the Filodoxos.

"It is in the best interests of Mr Potter and Mr Prince to make their home here with us in Wiltshire," said Lucius Malfoy, his expression concerned and earnest. "Sirius Black, innocent though he may be, has spent over a decade in Azkaban, subjected to all manner of psychological horrors, and such a person is in no state to take responsibility of a child. As blood brothers to my son, I would treat Mr Potter and Mr Prince as my own, and they would have a life free from all hardship and want. Sirius Black may come from an Ancient and Noble House, but children need far more than an ancient name to live happy and secure lives. As a father myself, I cannot simply sit by and watch this happen." With their sprawling estate, there is no doubt that Mr Potter and Mr Prince would live in comfort and ease with the Malfoys.

"His claims are preposterous!" said Mr Black, outside of St Mungo's hospitals where he has been having regular meetings with a team of healers. "Harry is my godson, and I will do everything in my power to make sure that he is happy and well taken care of. James and Lily had both fought for the Light in the war, and they would turn over in their graves if they knew that a Dark family was trying to take custody of their only son." Though there had been rumours about the Malfoys being linked to You-Know-Who, all charges against the family had been cleared.

The rest of the article was drivel, speculations on the part of the nosy and vulgar reporter. Disgusted, Callidus tossed the newspaper aside, just as Caiside was coming down the stairs, still in her blue-white wrinkled pyjamas.

She blinked at him sleepily. "You look miserable," she observed, not a single note of concern in her voice. "More so than usual. Why is your hair always greasy nowadays? It looks better when you're at Hogwarts."

Callidus narrowed his eyes at the curly-haired girl. "There's no one here worth trying to impress," he drawled. "As for being miserable -" he pushed the newspaper in her direction across the wooden table, "apparently, there are some that think that your parents are unfit guardians."

"What are you talking about? You know I never bother to read the Prophet."

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, because ignorance about the world is something to take pride in. Just read it. It's easier than explaining."

Caiside let out an irritated huff, plopping down in one of the chairs across from him, and snatching up the newspaper with ill grace. "Has anyone ever told you that the way you talk is really old-fashioned? You sound like someone who was raised during my mother's time, but more - more formal, if that's even possible. If you think it makes you sound impressive, well, it doesn't."

Callidus merely arched an eyebrow at the attempted barb. He had no inclination to speak of his past, to admit that in a desperate attempt to scrub himself of everything related to his father, he had sought to emulate his mother's mannerisms, and her pureblood deportment (not always succeeding, but he did his best). And though he may have appeared self-possessed, the article had left him shaken. It wasn't that he was particularly attached to the Filodoxos, though he was grateful for their kindness, and for treating him like a family member; it was just that he had never been able to shake the feeling of disquiet that Lucius Malfoy caused in him. He did not know the other man's intentions, and did not trust that those intentions were for his good, or Harry's good. If Lucius Malfoy wanted something, it was because it benefited himself, and having someone like Harry Potter in his grasp would be extremely advantageous for an ambitious man.

And what if Lucius suspected that Callidus was the Severus Snape of so long ago? What kind of things might Lucius want from a person who used to be a Potions Master? It was an effort to keep himself from shuddering, as Caiside's eyes scanned over the article.

By the time she was finished, she had gone silent. She turned to look at Callidus, her dark eyes large and conflicted. "Do you want this?"

He gave her an incredulous look, causing her to scowl.

"Most people would be honoured - no, most people would be more than honoured - would probably cut off their own sodding limbs for this kind of connection to the Malfoys."

"I'm not most people," Callidus answered. "Most people might consider how they would use the Malfoys. I'm more concerned about how the Malfoys want to use us."

Caiside hummed, letting her eyes stray over the photo of Lucius Malfoy on the cover. "I can see how someone like him might want to use Harry. But why would they want to use you? I mean yes, you're a Prince, and it's an old name, but - I mean, they're Malfoys! If anything, I'd think that they just wanted Harry, and just because you happen to be a blood brother, they had no choice but to take you, no offense, or anything. And since when were you blood brothers anyway? I can't believe the three of you actually did the ritual. Can't something like that kill you?"

Clearly, she no idea. "Yes. We've been bonded since first year."

"Huh. That's almost a Gryffindor-ish level of recklessness."

"The reminder really isn't appreciated. The last thing I need today is to be compared to Gryffindors."

Caiside smirked, before once again staring down at the newspaper. "So, what are you going to do?"

Callidus shrugged. "I'm not certain that there's very much I can do. If asked, I'd say that I'd prefer to stay here."

"Well, hopefully my mum finds a job soon then. It won't look good for us if she's still unemployed by the time this goes to trial."

Callidus gave her a long look, but she refused to meet his eye. He still had a feeling that she knew something, that whatever her mother's erstwhile secretive job had involved, Caiside was aware of more than she let on. But there was no sense trying to force her to speak of old secrets, and if it did relate to the Orange Madness like Callidus suspected, then at least the wizarding world was no longer plagued by that particular disease.

Nonetheless, it was hard to resist piecing together the clues. After all, using Dark magic gave one an immunity to this disease, and Madam Filodoxos had given him a book on Dark magic prior to him leaving for Hogwarts. Whatever Madam Filodoxos intentions had been, it appeared that she wanted to keep him out of harm's way, at least. Still, it was curious that when he had looked at Caiside's magical signature, he had seen nothing that indicated Dark magic there, but then again, Caiside was rebellious enough that even if her mother had given her Dark spells to perform, Caiside would probably ignore them on principle.

They ate their breakfast in silence, until the arrival of an snowy white owl pulled Callidus from his reverie. It was Harry's owl, Hedwig. Harry hadn't written frequently over the summer, and with everything that was going on in his friend's life, he wasn't surprised. So, seeing a letter was a delight, although his pleasure was marred by this morning's Daily Prophet. He took the letter from Hedwig, pushing his breakfast plate towards her so she could finish off his scraps as a treat.

When he unfolded the parchment, he was shocked by just how long Harry's letter was. Harry had never been the sort to write long letters, but as Callidus's eyes fell upon the first paragraph, he understood why.

Hello Cal!

Did you know that quills exist that write down everything you say? I can't believe I've never heard of them before now! It's too bad we can't use these in class. It would've saved me so much trouble - I hate writing with quills. Sirius told me about these. I mentioned Sirius in my last letter, but that was before I had one of these quills, so I reckon I didn't tell you very much, did I?

Anyway, what I have told you so far? Erm - well, when I first met Sirius, I was really nervous about it. I mean, well, you read all the news stories, yeah? They were saying such awful things, like how he was put in jail for murdering all those muggles, and betraying my parents, and I know that it turned out that he was innocent, but still! And then to find out from Professor Dumbledore that he was my godfather? It was just a lot to take in at the time. I'm going to swear off reading the Prophet. Rubbish, all of it. I mean, at that time I had pretty much just arrived at Hogwarts after spending two horribly long weeks with the Dursleys, and did I ever tell you how horrible they are? Because they are. Horrible, that is.

So of course, I arrived at Hogwarts after being cut off from everything for two weeks, and just when I think I can relax, Dumbledore comes up to me, and his expression is all serious, so that I feel like I'm about to get detention, except for the fact that Dumbledore doesn't give out detentions, and he puts a hand on my shoulder which only makes me more nervous, and he says: "Harry, there's something that you need to know."

At this point, I'm pretty much just sweating, thinking that he's going to tell me that I'm not allowed to stay at Hogwarts anymore, or worse, that I'm expelled, but then he says he has to tell me about my past. He mentioned something called a Fidelius charm, and how my parents supposedly had Sirius as a secret keeper, except according to Sirius, they switched at the last minute to Peter Pettigrew.

When I think of Pettigrew, I just - aargh! Huh, I didn't realize the quill would write that down. That's kind of funny, isn't it? Anyway, as I was saying, when I heard that one of their old friends, Pettigrew, had betrayed them, it made me feel sick to my stomach, you know? It was like eating something rotten, or like my skin was crawling with flobberworms. How could anyone ever do something like that? Betray a friend? And then frame another friend for it?

I reckon I'm kind of getting off track, aren't I? What was I even talking about? Oh yeah, Sirius. So then, Dumbledore tells me that Sirius is my godfather, and at this point, my mind pretty much feels like it's about to burst - I mean, a godfather? Why did no one ever tell me before? Well, I s'pose he was in jail - or Azkaban at the time, and everyone thought that he was a mass murderer, so if I knew, that would've just made everything worse.

I'm not sure how Dumbledore thought I should've reacted. Honestly, the first thing I felt when he told me was - shock, I s'pose? What was I even s'posed to feel? I thought that you and Draco were my only family. It was like having my whole world turned sideways, finding out that there was someone else.

The first time I met Sirius was at St Mungo's. That was where they kept him after they let him out. I s'pose being in jail, and being stuck with - sod it, what're they called again? Oh yeah, Dementors - they're really creepy - kinda remind you of grim reapers, yeah? Except that they suck out all your happiness. Merlin! I can't believe that Sirius ever survived it. I can't even believe that anything like that exists!

You should've seen him, Cal. I wish you had been there - it probably would've been easier for me to have you have and Draco nearby. Sirius was just so skinny, kinda like those pictures I saw when I was still in primary school of people from the Holocaust. His hair was greasy like yours when you don't use your hair potion, but it was kind of wavy, and dark, and long. Now that I think of it, his skin was kind of like yours too, except even paler, and kind of waxy. He looked a bit like a corpse, 'cept he was still moving.

When I saw him, I just froze. What was I s'posed t'do? He was practically a stranger. But then he widened his eyes, and said: "James?" That's my dad's name, in case you forgot. He thought I was my dad! I s'pose when people say that I look like him, they literally mean that I look like him. I guess I was shaking my head, because then he was blinking, and he said: "No, not James. You're Harry, aren't you?"

There's something really unnerving about having someone look at you the way Sirius was looking at me. It was like this weird mix of joy and sadness and a whole bunch of other things that I don't have words for. I felt like I couldn't breathe. I mean, he was still a stranger, so I couldn't exactly feel for him what he felt for me, could I? I wanted to just turn around and run out of that hospital room, and just hide in Gryffindor Tower. I must've looked it too, 'cause then he looked away, like he was embarrassed, but then he said: "I'm glad to finally meet you again. I hope -" and then he was choking up, and his eyes were getting wet, and I felt - I dunno - bad for him.

But you know what's weird? Even though he was still a stranger, even though it was awkward and uncomfortable and a part of me wanted to leave, it still felt good. It was like - I knew then that there was someone out there that actually - oh Merlin, I can't believe I'm saying this, but - loves me. I feel like I've never had that before - at least not that I can remember. Sod it, now I'm getting all soppy!

Our next meeting after that was a lot easier. We talked about Quidditch, which he loves as much as I do. I - erm - I won't bore you with the details, 'cause I know that you don't care about Quidditch, except that Slytherin wins.

Oh Merlin, I can't believe I almost forgot! You should have seen his reaction when he found out that I was sorted into Slytherin! His mouth just fell open and I thought that I had given him a heart attack then and there. He had that whole fish thing going, his mouth opening and closing, and then he said: "Slytherin?" in this sort of croak. He looked so horrified. I was actually scared that he would disown me. But then he blinked, and said that Slytherin or not, I was still his godson, and he was still proud of me. I feel like an idiot, but thinking about it still makes me grin. Sirius may've spent twelve years of his life in jail but he's just so full of life. Heh - and I'm still grinning like an complete git! I'm glad no one's here to see me like this. I'd probably never hear the end of it.

Merlin! I didn't realize my letter was this long already! I'll write you more next time, or maybe I'll tell you when we meet in person.

Your brother,

Harry

When Callidus finished reading the letter, he refolded it, tucking it away into his pocket. Caiside was giving him a curious look, but he wasn't in the mood to talk, and while she was his friend, he couldn't imagine himself confiding in her, the way he might with Harry. Excusing himself, he climbed back up the stairs to his room.

He had been wondering about Harry's reaction to everything that had happened, and while he was happy that his friend was happy, he felt perturbed as well. It was evident that this letter had been sent before Harry had found out about the impending custody battle. If Harry had already formed an emotional connection to his godfather (and Harry's exuberance had been radiating from the parchment), then how might his friend react to this newest news? He wished he could be there for Harry, because even if he lacked the words of support, he was still a brother.

-o-

It wasn't until this very year that Draco truly realized that he couldn't always get what he wanted in life. Prior to that, his life had had a rather charmed quality to it, and his parents had never been able to say no to him, not in a serious sense. Of course, there were moments when they did say no, such as in first year when he wanted his own racing broom, but Draco had been aware that 'no' actually meant 'later.' There had been no such thing as a 'no' that meant 'no.'

His first year at Hogwarts had done nothing to disabuse him of that notion. After all, he had ended up befriending the famous Harry Potter, and more than that, Harry became his best friend. It was true that he had to share Harry with Callidus, and Draco did not like sharing, but Callidus turned out to be all right. Besides, Harry shared Draco's passion for flying, while Callidus didn't, and secretly, Draco thought that that meant that he and Harry were closer friends than Callidus could ever hope to be.

On top of that, Pansy and even Blaise had an (aggravating) tendency to make fun of Draco's closeness to Harry (and sometimes Callidus), but he knew that that was because they were jealous that Harry was his best friend, while they weren't. Other people's jealousy was a gratifying thing.

But then, in second year, something changed, shifted, and where did it all go wrong? Draco strongly suspected that the enchanted dragon-tooth pendant that he gave to Harry had something to do with it, though he would never admit this out loud to anyone, and could barely even admit it to himself. Admitting that there was anything wrong with that pendant meant that he had to examine the motivations of his father, who had been the one to commission the enchantment in the first place. Draco had specifically asked only for protective enchantments. And no matter how he tried to reason it, he couldn't puzzle out how an enchantment that influenced a person towards a Dark affinity was protective. He supposed that he could ask his father, but that would require asking his father, and the idea of needlessly interrupting his father with trivial questions made his stomach tangle up in knots. His father was a busy man! Draco just didn't want to disturb him, if he didn't have to.

What alarmed Draco the most about his second year at Hogwarts was that Harry had seemed like the same person, until the very end when Draco's whole world was turned on its head. One would think the that if Harry was being affected by foreign Dark magic, then Draco would be the first person to notice it. One would think that if Harry had been hiding a secret, Draco would have been able to ferret it out. But no, somehow, Harry had kept his secret for months and months, and yes, Draco might have noticed that Harry hadn't liked Euphemia Rowle, but how was he supposed to know that that dislike had run so deep that Harry would utterly humiliate her in front of all the Slytherins?

And then what happened after still caused chills to prickle across his skin whenever he thought about it. He didn't even want to consider the word (death, death, no, not that, anything but that), didn't want to think that his life could have ended, because things like close brushes with mortality didn't happen to Malfoys, did they?

He did end up spending more time than he would have thought in the family library reading about the brotherhood ritual. He learned that it was fatal if a betrayal had been perceived, but other emotions such as anger or sadness would have no effect. But even that fact had made him want to scrub out his mind, and crawl into the safety of his bed where he didn't have to think about such matters. He didn't want to have to be careful in his relationships with Harry and Callidus. He didn't want to think about feeling betrayed by them, or being betrayed in turn. It seemed so much easier when he was eleven years old.

But this year would be better. Draco was sure of it. His father had told him at the end of the term that as blood brothers, he would claim custody of Harry and Callidus. Of course, when his father had seen his expression (it wasn't his fault if he wanted to jump and whoop with delight! If anything, his father should have been proud that he restrained himself to merely a grin!), he had said that there might be complications, and it wouldn't do for Draco to get carried away by his hopes. But Draco had faith in his father's abilities, even if Harry had a godfather now (and according to the last letter he received, Harry was quite pleased with said godfather). He was sure that Harry would be even more pleased to be a Malfoy.

But today was a special day. Today was Harry's birthday. Though they had spoken of planning a big party last year, Harry had told him that he didn't want a party, but that didn't mean that Draco didn't have anything planned. It just meant that his plans were limited to what he wanted to do with Harry and Callidus, and there was a great deal that he wanted to do. There would be flying involved, naturally, but they could also spend the day exploring the grounds of Malfoy manor, and playing with all of Draco's new toys and gadgets and magical artifacts (from his own birthday in June), and a number of other things.

He was expecting Harry to arrive first. He didn't know why he expected this, except that he typically spent so much more time with Harry, that it was Harry's dark hair and green eyes he expected to see being spit out by the fireplace. So, when Callidus stumbled out of the Floo, sending his near-shoulder length hair in disarray (though he regained his balance with enviable ease, long fingers brushing away the soot), Draco had only blinked at him.

Callidus arched one of his brows (yet another thing he did enviously well), and languidly said: "It's nice to see you as well."

Draco scowled and crossed his arms (not petulantly!), saying: "I was expecting Harry."

Callidus's dark brows furrowed as he peered around the room, but he did not make any remark the way that Harry would ("he's not here yet?" or "I thought he'd be here first.") He did not even utter 'indeed,' as he was wont to do, or ask about Draco's summer, though he already knew about Draco's summer from what he had written in his letters.

Instead, Callidus gave him a piercing look, and said: "Were you aware that your father was planning to try and gain custody of us?"

The word 'try' had him gritting his teeth. It wasn't a matter of trying; his father would succeed, and Harry and Callidus would both be his brothers. "I might have known something," he hedged, letting a hint of slyness enter his voice.

Unfortunately, Callidus wasn't impressed by this statement. "Harry won't be pleased, you realize."

"What would you know?" Draco spat out.

Callidus hummed and Draco was not gratified to note that his friend's voice had deepened. It created the illusion that Callidus might be more mature, but Draco knew better than to believe that. "If both of us were to live with you, or perhaps you and your mother, I don't think we would have any strong objections."

Draco considered what had been left unsaid. "You mean to say you don't want to live with my father? What's your problem with my father?"

Callidus pressed his lips together, evincing his search for a reason, or perhaps his search for a diplomatic way to express his reasons. It wouldn't have mattered to Draco, he was already more than halfway offended.

But before Callidus could formulate the words, the fireplace flared a vivid emerald green, and Harry tripped out, landing on his hands and knees upon the pale marble floor. "Bloody hell!" Harry swore, causing Draco to flinch. What if his parents had heard? They might not say anything to Harry, but Draco would certainly receive a firm lecture about the sort of company he kept, famous or no. But then, Harry looked up at him, and his eyes were just as bright and angry as the fire had just been. Instinctively, Draco took a step backwards.

With startling grace, Harry pulled himself upright, his hands clenched into fists as he snarled (yes, snarled!): "Did you know what your father was planning? Did you know that he would try and take me away from Sirius?"

"No one's trying to take you away from anyone," Draco prevaricated. "You can still see your godfather as much as you wish. But -"

"So you did know!" Harry cried. Draco felt a sharpness in his chest, and overwhelming pressure that made it difficult to breathe, and from the way that Harry's eyes grew round, his friend and brother felt it too. He could see Harry tightening and loosening his fists, see the way that he shuddered as he attempted to breathe deeply, and cool his emotions. Draco wasn't trying to betray anyone. Didn't they see that?

He kept his eyes on Harry's, not looking Callidus's way, though he could feel the other boy's eyes on him. "I thought you would have been glad to live with me. Why wouldn't you want to live with someone who is your brother?" Draco said, almost calmly but not quite.

"Because that isn't - it isn't - arrgh!" Harry threw up his hands. "How would you feel if Sirius did the same to you? What if he tried to take custody of you and Callidus?"

Draco's eyes widened, horrified by the notion. "He wouldn't dare!"

"See? I don't see you leaping with joy the prospect of living with me!"

"It's not you, it's -" Draco faltered, cognizant of having just walked into the stream of reasoning that Callidus and apparently Harry were trying to make clear. He wilted, unhappy with his own understanding.

"By the way, happy birthday, Harry," said Callidus, handing him a small wrapped package (another potion, no doubt).

Harry started, blinking at his other friend. "Thanks, Cal."

Draco sighed, cursing his own wretched luck. He had wanted to be the one to say 'happy birthday' first, and now, this whole conversation had made him look ill-tempered and belligerent. "Happy birthday," he said anyway, "My gifts -" (he made sure to emphasize the plural), "for you are upstairs." Instead of getting a single lavish present (which didn't exactly work out last year), he had instead purchased a great number of little things, anything that caught his eye and reminded him of Harry.

And finally, Harry was smiling at him, but it wasn't the wholehearted grin that he had been imagining. Instead was a small and shy thing, like a fawn hiding in the shrubbery. "Can't wait to see them."

"I have our whole day planned out. We can get something to eat first - or did you already eat at Hogwarts? I had the house elves make your favourites -"

"I can't stay all day," Harry cut in, before Draco laid out all his plans.

"You can't - but why?"

Harry rolled his bottom lip through his teeth, guilt making his eyes look woeful. "I promised Sirius that I'd visit. He's been trying to clean out his old place in London, and we were going to set up my room for when -" Harry looked away.

Draco did not feel betrayed. At least, that was what he repeated to himself, at least ten times in a row, probably more, because his chest was starting to hurt again, and he really, really wanted to remain alive.

"I'm sorry," Harry said miserably, his breathing uneven, so that Draco knew that he felt the pain too, which meant that Callidus did as well. He hated this. He didn't want other people to know the unspoken emotions buried beneath his (hopefully) composed demeanour, even if those people happened to be his brothers. It was so unfair!

Knowing that he wouldn't have Harry for the entire day, he mentally shifted around his organized schedule, prioritizing the activities that would be the most enjoyable. There was some childish part of him (probably stamping its feet in a tantrum, not that he had done anything like that since he was eight - or perhaps ten), that wanted to be spiteful and make Harry as miserable as he was now. Fortunately, his Slytherin cunning prevailed, realizing that if he could make this day as fun as possible, then maybe Harry would realize just what he was missing by choosing not to live here, and every moment spent with his godfather would be spent doubting his choice.

And to some extent, his plan seemed to work - at least the part where Harry was having fun. But the gloomy storm cloud that had been condensing over Draco's heart refused to dissipate, raining down hurt, and hurt, and he did not feel betrayed! So why did it have to hurt so much?

A/N: For my stories, I imagine the uniform described in the books (plain black students' robes, no House colours, no ties).

Also, I don't plan on any Dumbledore bashing. Assume that what happens in this chapter happened with good intentions rather than outright manipulation. This is considered background to the story (since it's related more to Harry than Callidus), so Dumbledore's motives aren't of central importance. But to anyone who's curious, consider how Dumbledore might feel about Harry & Cal in Malfoy hands.

I hate writing newspaper articles...

Also, still no shipping, but teenage hormones will start to affect some of our characters

Thanks for reading!