Note: Sorry it's been such a long time. Lots of things have come up, and I finished my first year of college (Scary!), and now the last book is coming out (also scary!)…busy, busy, busy. Hopefully this won't disappoint, though I am sure that I don't like how this chapter ended…kind of abrupt. I'm not entirely sure where I was going with this…gah.

Harry Potter and the Great War

Chapter Twenty-nine

"Why do you keep staring at me like that?" Draco looked up at Harry, whose eyes had wandered from a boring text in front of him to stare rather intently at Draco who was similarly arranged on the couch in the living room, a horde of old Daily Prophet issues on his lap.

"I'm not staring," Harry shook his head. "My eyes are just, err…wandering."

"Look, I know you're thinking about me and my Dad, but please…just trust me, and lay off of it. Stop turning it into something sick, and just let it go."

"I'm turning it into something sick? Draco, it was sick to begin with."

"Just…leave it alone, okay?" Draco was steadily turning a shade of red that could rival any color of embarrassment one of the Weasley's could dredge up.

"Sorry," Harry turned his eyes back to the book on his lap, glad that they had the house almost to themselves. All of the adults had gone about some Order business, leaving only Professor Jalan, who had retired to his room claiming a headache earlier that morning, and Severus whom was reading the Prophet at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee. Hermione had gone with Tonks to the Ministry to look through some files that weren't available to be taken out of the Ministry offices, and Ron and Ginny had chosen to go to Diagon Alley and help out Fred and George with a sale at Weasley Wizard Wheezes while Molly did some shopping for the Order.

"Harry…" Draco spoke up a few minutes later after they had fallen back into silence.

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever thought that, er… that you might be a horcrux?"

Harry looked up over the top of his glasses, "The thought has crossed my mind, sure, but…I don't know. It doesn't seem to quite make sense. I was marked, sure, but I don't think that Voldemort is actually…inside of me or something." He ignored Draco's flinch. "Getting in my head via magic or something is one thing, but being a horcrux? I don't think so."

"Oh. Okay. I was just…wondering, 'cause you know…technically you'd have to die in order for you to kill You-Know-Who, right?"

"Shut up, I'm not going to die."

"I wasn't saying that I think you are, Harry."

Harry remained silent, adjusting his position on the couch, and averting his eyes back down. Within seconds, his mind had drifted from Draco thinking that he was already on death row and back to Draco and his father. He couldn't help it, even though it had been almost a week since they had first found out about them. It was morbid, but his imagination ran wild with imagery of the two blondes ensnared together on expensive bedding in low lighting with soft music playing and lots of panting.

Draco had obviously been watching Harry's eyes glaze over, and his expression must have showed the mixture of repulsion and excitement that he was feeling because he cleared his throat loudly, shaking Harry back to his book.

"How's your research coming along?" Severus emerged from the kitchen, in a disturbingly good mood, having removed the bandages that morning to find the scarring minimal (though the mark was still fairly obvious) and had taken, as he had the summer before, to donning a pair of muggle jeans and a thin, emerald green sweater.

"It's crap," Harry sighed, watching Severus sit on the couch, down from Draco. "It's like…I need a personal interview with Voldemort himself," he ignored their collective twitch, but neither Severus nor Draco corrected his use of the name, "in order to find the last two personal objects. I mean, the Diary made sense, the painting, and the goblet…all of them were handed off to someone else, disguised as gifts at one point or another, but who else would have been important enough for Vold—would you two stop flinching like that? I'm trying to have a serious rant here, and your fidgeting is throwing me off."

"The Dark Lord often gives gifts to followers who have done him a great service," Severus spoke over the lip of an earthen coffee mug. "Even I received a, err…gift, before his first demise."

"And what service did you perform for him?" Draco asked, suddenly intrigued.

"Well, I did a good bit of formation planning, and potion making. There a short period of time during my double-agent work when I was at his right hand." Severus was slowly turning a shade of pink, and Harry raised an eyebrow.

"And what part of the story are you leaving out?"

"Well, it's not something you teenagers would really care to hear about, really," He took another drink from the mug, even though Harry was sure it was probably empty by now.

"Oh please," Harry scoffed. "It can't be any worse then anything I already know about you and your lucid past."

Severus hummed, "Quite the contrary, actually."

Draco let his eyes rove over his former professor, shuffling the papers in his lap absentmindedly, "You did something more for him, didn't you? You got closer to him then he would have allowed anyone else."

"In a way," Severus's answer was still relatively cryptic.

"What did he give you?" Harry asked.

Severus couldn't resist the soft smile that played on his lips, "The Dark Lord has –had a lovely wardrobe. He presented me with one of his best cloaks… It was gorgeous. I still have it, granted all of my belongings are still in my house, and the Death Eaters haven't ransacked it looking for me."

"You have a house?" Harry asked, confused.

"Hmm," Severus nodded. "Tucked away in a shabby muggle neighborhood called Spinners End –it was Jalan's house before he retired to the tropics, and I guess I just never left."

"Would you say this cloak was…err, personal?"

"Well, he rarely went anywhere where he wanted to appear regal without it, so…yes, I suppose it was rather personal, why?"

"Do you think that, maybe…" Harry let himself trail off, and Severus raised an eyebrow.

"You are not thinking of wanting to destroy one of my most prized possessions."

"I never said anything about destroying it…since when have we destroyed anything? The goblet is still in one piece, and the painting, though rather blurred, is still in one piece… No one said anything about destroying anything." Harry scoffed, "Besides, isn't it a little…questionable that you would want to keep something like that?"

"It might be rather valuable one day," Severus shrugged. "A bit of a collectors item."

"You just don't want to admit that you may have been harboring a horcrux for seventeen years," Harry shook his head. "Or does that cloak mean something more to you then you want to let on?"

"It does mean something to me," Severus nodded. "I'll admit that."

"Does Remus know how close to the Dark Lord you were?" Draco spoke up, still staring rather intently.

Severus raised an eyebrow, "Yes, yes he does, but I don't see what that has to do with anything, Draco. Unless," His eyebrow raised further, "you know something?"

Draco shrugged, "I wasn't the only guy my Dad ever did it with…a couple of secrets may have gotten spilled."

No sense of emotion at all crossed Severus's face, and he didn't seem at all surprised as he gave a slight shrug, "Ah, well then, you must know how much of an honor it is to be bequeathed such a personal gift –the painting, I'm sure your father told you, was his after his..." He thought for the right word, silencing for a moment, "duties."

"I would hardly call fucking an evil overlord part of a 'duty'," Draco scoffed loudly. Again, Severus hardly seemed moved, but Harry's mouth dropped open involuntarily.

"You did what? You're a regular harlot, aren't you?"

Severus turned to look at his son, tilting his head ever so slightly, "Don't be silly."

"Who else have you slept with? It seems like every person brought around you've had some kind of an escapade with."

"I don't think you can really complain much," Severus shrugged. "Or do I need to bring up your sexual escapades as well? I think we both, as well as most of the inhabitants of this house, are quite aware of the goings on in your bedroom."

Draco laughed softly, a smile playing his lips, his face brightening with a new-found respect for his former Professor.

"And what are you laughing about? You're even worse then he is," Severus turned back to him. "Do you really think all of the teachers at Hogwarts are daft? You've been getting into spots of trouble since you were a fourth year."

"I can't say I've ever been in a spot of trouble I didn't enjoy in one way or another," Draco shrugged. "Can you say the same, Professor?"

"I choose my partners carefully," Severus shrugged. "Yes, I will admit –and Remus well knows, that he isn't the only person I've ever slept with, obviously, but I don't have dozens of notches on my bedpost, and I am comfortable with the number that are there, and I have never gone looking intentionally to add more, and I never intend to."

Draco shrugged, "So, you're calling me a slut just because I enjoy—"

"Can we stop talking about this, please? It's rather an uncomfortable subject, and I'm trying to do some serious research here." Harry bowed his head back over his book, shielding his face with his hand.

"Yes, please. You're making everyone uncomfortable with your blant sexuality." Severus stood back up with his now empty mug. "Anyway, continue with your research. I think we've had enough of a chat for now."

Draco waited until Severus had disappeared before turning back to Harry, "Does it bother you?"

"What?" Harry asked.

"Knowing that your Dad has sex, knowing how many partners he's had."

"I got over it," Harry shrugged.

Draco stood up, setting the papers aside to move towards the chair, pulling the large tomb out of Harry's hands, and wedging his knees into the chair cushion on either side of his hips, straddling him to the chair.

"Draco, get off of me," Harry pushed his palms against Draco's stomach, but Draco didn't budge, instead leaning forward to whisper in Harry's ear. "It makes you think, doesn't it? I look at your Dad, and I see you –how good you look, and I remember how you tasted..." His lips pressed under Harry's ear. "And I know you've been daydreaming about me…"

"No, now c'mon and get off of me. Before someone sees us." Harry pushed a little harder but the blonde continued to ignore him.

This time, Draco caught his lips, both of them savoring the kiss, though Harry did so with a distinct air of feigned unwillingness.

"Draco –we agreed that after I was back to…normal, that we wouldn't do this anymore."

"But you haven't shacked up with Ginny yet either," Draco pointed out. "In fact, I might go as far as saying that you and Gin-gin are pretty much over."

"Don't get so far ahead of yourself," Harry shook his head, his hands moving to rest on Draco's thighs. "Draco…what we had was fun, a lot of fun, but we both need to get serious here. Come September, we aren't even sure if Hogwarts will be a school, and you certainly can't make an appearance there. I'm sorry, but you're too dangerous."

"I'm dangerous? All I want to do is have sex with you, Harry. It's not like I want to get married or something."

"I just, I need to focus on what is important, and I'm afraid that sexing it up with you isn't very high on that list."

"I'm not important but you can sleep with Ron every night, right?"

"We slept together once –no, that's not right. We had sex once, and again it was fun, but I need to concentrate on getting ready to battle Voldemort."

Draco sighed, sliding back onto the floor, "Okay, I guess. I understand."

"I've told you before, Draco. You need to learn to control your hormones."

"Sex is how I control my hormones," Draco sighed again. "And I'm sick of being under wraps all of the time, sick of being treated like a fucking prisoner. I'm an of-age wizard, damn it. I should be able to come and go as I please, but you've got me holed up here like a rat."

"Don't tell me that you've forgotten what you've done," Harry shook his head, "What you were supposed to do."

"Of course I remember, but if you will recall, I didn't do it because I'm not a bad person, I'm a weakling."

"You aren't weak, don't get even start saying things like that." Harry shook his, standing up as Draco turned away from him, looking annoyed with himself. He paused for a moment before touching Draco's shoulder, turning him back to face him. "I'm really glad it wasn't you who killed Dumbledore. I didn't like hating you, okay?"

"But we hated each other for so long…"

"And then I got to know you, and I even sort of…fell in love with you." Harry shrugged, smiling softly. "And, when my Dad brought you back here, and you were all bloody and broke, I was afraid that he wouldn't be able to help you. I never got the chance to properly say goodbye to you before you fled and I felt sort of…cheated that you didn't tell me about your life."

"I wanted to, Harry! I wasn't sure if I could trust you with that kind of information. I wanted to show you so many times –I mean, I was like…proud. I was the youngest Death Eater ever, but I kept hiding it from you."

"I know, I couldn't figure out how you kept it from me. It's pretty obvious," Harry shrugged. "Does it…does it hurt?" He motioned towards where Draco was absentmindedly rubbing his arm.

"Just a little. Mostly he calls late at night, and there are times I have to keep from yelling out, but it does kind of ache throughout the day."

"I…I am sorry, Draco. About how you're treated around here. Like you aren't welcome. You just…you're a little different from the rest of us is all. You understand right?"

"Oh yeah, I get it. Still not sure if ickle Draco-kins, the naughty Slytherin, can be trusted, even after over a month and half under this roof?"

"Draco…what is it going to take to get you to stop sulking?"

A sly smile crossed Draco's lips and he shook his head, "What I want is out of the question…even if I told you that it would just be one last…perfect time." His hands went to Harry's hips and he kissed him softly.

"If I had a sickle for every time you told me 'just one last time', I'd be a galleonaire," Harry shook his head.

"But you're interested, I can tell." Draco smiled.

"I can't sleep with you again, not since I found out about you and your Dad."

"You're going to let that stop you? It didn't mean anything to me, it was just…it was how we showed affection, I guess."

"Pretty disturbing way of showing affection," Harry shook his head.

Draco groaned, his arms moving to wrap around Harry's waist now, pulling him in for a less-then-chaste kiss, probing his mouth with his tongue while Harry moaned in protest. Draco made soft shushing noises, breaking the kiss to reposition his lips against Harry's, not giving him a whole lot of time to voice objection. "Admit it, Harry. You miss my mind-blowing kisses," Draco's hands went to Harry's shoulders, stroking his thumbs along the column of his throat.

"I admit nothing," Harry shook his head.

"C'mon…you like it," Draco's lips were soft as he kissed him a third time, his mouth traveling to his neck as he tipped Harry's head back. "It's not a bad thing, you shouldn't be ashamed of being aroused."

"I'm not ashamed, I just know that this is wrong, and I shouldn't do it."

"But being bad always feels so good."

"You sound like a shoddy muggle movie," Harry scoffed.

Draco ignored him, pushing him back onto the couch and pulling one of his legs around his hips, "It's been weeks for you, if what you say is true about Ron…and it's been even longer for me."

"By like two days," Harry scoffed.

"You taste sweet," Draco continued to ignore him, licking his lips. "Like…sugar quills, and chocolate frogs."

Harry didn't reply, knowing he would just be ignored again, instead, using his leverage to push Draco onto the floor, rolling over on top of him.

"Ow!" Draco reached up to the back of his head. "I think you've just given me a concussion!"

"Good, maybe that will teach you a lesson," Harry scoffed.

"I take this means our game is over?" Draco folded his arms behind his head.

Harry took a deep breath, before nodding, pushing up from the floor, and moving to step away from him, "Sorry, but yes –ack!" Harry found himself on the floor again as Draco grabbed his ankle, and pulled him back, just nearly missing the corner of the coffee table, sprawling haphazardly on his stomach. Draco covered him, pressing his cheek to Harry's ensnaring his wrists with his fingers.

"Why?"

"Because –we're not alone in the house, and everyone else could be back at any moment." Harry turned, looking at him with an annoyed expression.

"As if they don't already know that we're horny bastards," Draco licked his lips before lapping at the side of Harry's neck.

"You maybe, but not me," Harry shook his head, trying to push Draco off him, but not having much success.

"Do you remember the first time we had real sex? Not just, you know…the fondling and stuff…"

"You mean the time that you raped me? Yeah, it was pretty much burned into my memory, thanks."

"You still feel the same underneath me right now, like you did then." Draco ran a hand up underneath Harry's shirt. "It's hard to believe that being, you know, the same person in two different bodies, that you would be so…similar, but…everything that matters is the same." He raked his fingernails slightly against his skin, leaning forward to kiss the back of his neck. "The way you smell, the way you taste, the way your body responds when I touch you."

"Draco, please…" Harry sighed. "I don't want to fool around with you anymore."

"These words keep coming out of your mouth, but I have a hard time believing them."

"Well believe them," Harry sighed, looking up suddenly as the lock in the door turned and Molly, along with Ron, Ginny, and the twins filed through the doorway laden with bags of supplies for the next few days. At first they didn't notice the two in the living room, but Ron just happened to turn in response to something that Fred had said, and paused.

"What the bloody hell?"

"Ron –it's not…damn." Harry collapsed under Draco's weight as he tried to stand again. "Draco, would you get off of me already?"

"Don't fret," Draco pulled himself up from the floor. "We were just getting in a bit of exercise…reading papers is deathly boring, you know?" He dusted off his trousers as Harry pulled himself up from the floor –and a moment later Draco found himself pushed to the floor again, not making the narrow escape from missing the coffee table with a defining crack, this time pummeled by Ron. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you?!"

"Ron," Harry pulled back on Ron's shoulders. "Come off it –he's not worth it."

Ron shrugged him off, beating Draco's head back against the floor again, roughly. Tears beaded at Draco's eyes, and his sight shifted out of focus for a few moments, but a laugh passed through his lips, and he reached up to touch the back of his head.

"Blimey, I think you made me bleed," Draco titled his head back to look at his fingers, now stained with blood.

"Good," Ron retorted, finally succumbing to Harry's hands on his shoulders, seeming content with the outcome.

"C'mon, Draco," Harry held out his hand to the blonde. "We should have my Dad or Molly look at your head."

"Let him bleed to death," Ron looked indignant, crossing his arms angrily over his chest.

"What is wrong with you?" Harry sighed at Ron, slowly helping Draco to his feet. "You don't just randomly attack people, Ron. Jeez."

"I wouldn't say it was random," Ron scoffed.

"I heard a thud –did I miss something?" Ginny appeared in the doorway. "Egad, Draco, why is there blood gushing out of your head?"

"Your brother attacked me and beat my head into the floor," Draco reached around, pressing his hand to the back of his head. "I feel a bit dizzy, perhaps I should sit down?"

"Whoa," Harry caught him around the waist, "Let's get you into the kitchen before you go passing out."

"Sure," Draco nodded slowly, leaning against Harry. Ron sighed, taking his other side.

"I'm sorry, I…it was a knee-jerk reaction." Ron sighed, pushing past Ginny. "I saw you two, and I guess I just couldn't help myself."

"Next time, just punch me. Don't crack my head open, okay?" Draco asked as the three of them pushed into the kitchen where Molly was ignoring what had been going on in the living room.

"What on earth--?" She turned from where she had been putting away their groceries, "Why are you bleeding?"

"Your son pounded me into the coffee table, thanks," Draco sank thankfully into one of the kitchen chairs, and Harry went for a towel.

"I said I was sorry!"

"Don't fret it," Draco looked up at him with a smile, "I would have done it too if I were you –I admit that I deserved it--playing with your toy without asking."

Molly raised a questioning eyebrow but didn't ask, moving around the table, and rapping her wand roughly against the back of Draco's head. He jumped, surprised, but found that his head had healed.

"Did you have to do it so hard?"

"It's all part of medical magic, dear. Now, why don't you all go take a rest or something? You've been working hard all afternoon, I'm sure you're tired from all of that dull reading,"

"Thanks, but it's OK, I think I'll go back to it," Harry pressed the damp towel to the back of Draco's head to get rid of the blood. "Maybe you should go get a shower though? You wouldn't want your hair to stain."

"Is…is that possible?" Draco asked.

"I don't know, but I don't think you want to find out either," Harry shrugged.

"Oh, right…I still feel kind of dizzy…maybe I should go lay down?" Draco started to stand again.

"Stop moving around," Harry sighed, scrubbing the towel over the back of his head. Draco groaned leaning on his elbows, holding his head steady. A few moments later, Harry stepped back, taking the towel to rinse it out in the sink. "Okay, you can go –can you get upstairs on your own?"

"I think so," Draco nodded, standing up slowly, holding onto the edge of the table as he moved towards the door.

"Why do you put up with him?" Ron asked, crossing his arms over his chest, watching Harry toss the wet rag into a bin under the sink.

Harry sighed, turning back to him, "Why are you suddenly so negative towards him? If you'll remember, you've been quite friendly with him yourself, Ron."

"I know, but…he doesn't harass me the same way he does you, but you just take it. Why? You could just hex him or something, and he'd never touch you again."

"This is Draco we're talking about," Harry scoffed, pushing out of the kitchen, taking their conversation away from Molly's all-hearing ears. "Me hexing him isn't going to stop him in the least."

"Then let me do it," Ron threw himself onto the touch as Harry made himself comfortable again next to him.

"Are you jealous of him?" Harry couldn't help the small smile passing his lips, looking over the top of his glasses at Ron as he pulled a new tomb onto his lap.

"Of course not, what would I have to be jealous of that prat for?" Ron scoffed, looking away.

Harry paused for a moment before putting the book down on the coffee table again, and moving closer to Ron, leaning in close to his ear, "I think it's cute that you're jealous…but nothing is happening between Draco and I. Not right now, even though we both want it…"

"Then you admit that you still like him?"

"Of course I like him," Harry nodded. "He knows what he's doing, and he can be very charming…but I'm telling him no, no matter how much either of us wants to."

"Then…you think I'm rubbish too?"

"Of course not," Harry moved on of his hands around Ron's waist, keeping an eye on the doorway, least Ginny or Mrs. Weasley were to enter. "I liked it, a lot. Hermione doesn't know what she's talking about when she says you're no good. You were very good when you were with me. He leaned back, his hand trailing along Ron's thigh now. "Maybe she just makes you nervous?"

"I don't know what the bloody hell is wrong with me," Ron sighed, leaning forward, and covering his head with his hands. "I was perfectly happy the way things were, and then I had to go and sleep with Draco, and Hermione broke up with me, and then I slept with you, and now I get this little…demon rearing its ugly head whenever I see you with him. It's terrible."

Harry nodded turning Ron's head and placing a small kiss on his lips before licking his lips, "Do you want to…tonight?"

Ron raised an eyebrow as though he didn't understand, but then blushed red, "I-I…I don't know, maybe?"

"If you don't want to, I might have no choice but to give into Draco." Harry teased.

"That's cruel," Ron scoffed.

Harry smiled again, and moved away, pulling the book back into his lap again, "All right, I need to get to work again, enough messing about with you."

Ron sighed, "Fine, I'll help."

"Good, you can start there where Draco had left off…and I think this evening, I might take another look at some of the memories that have been collected in the pensive, if you'd like to take a look with me."

"Sure," Ron nodded, moving from the couch to the chair that had thus been vacated by Draco. "I'd like that."