Chapter 1

Smoke. Why was there always smoke? Rubble, bright lights searing through the air, people fell around him. Hermione and Ron stood back to back, protecting each other from the unrelenting attacks. A few death eaters had fallen, but not enough. Not enough to subdue the seemingly never ending fight. The grass beneath their feet had turned to mud long ago, and the moon shone bright, though not quite full yet.

Harry had just reached the door to the Riddle manor. Mud clung to his robes and his trainers. He turned briefly to survey the carnage, but didn't have the foolishness to believe anyone would follow. He had to do this on his own. Had to kill or be killed all on his own. Assuming Voldemort was even here. It had seemed likely enough at the time, but Harry was beginning to think it was a bit too likely to be true. This wasn't how or when the Dark Lord would want the final showdown. Regardless, it was worth a shot.

Harry entered the building with a creek of the rusty hinges, and resisted a sneeze from the dust that entered his lungs. The entrance room was exactly as he imagined: full of once expensive things, now almost completely worthless. For a moment he considered the sort of life Tom Riddle had lived, when his father had all this, but he banished any pity or mercy he might have held in his heart. He was ready, determined to see it though despite the consequences. But what he saw next caught him completely off guard.

He had expected more death eaters, he hadn't been stupid enough to think he could just walk right in, but he hadn't expected this particular one. The man who stood in front of him, blocking his way, was just barely a man, much as Harry was barely a man himself. His petite body was enveloped in billowing robes, and his narrow, girlish face masked.

Draco Malfoy was standing at the foot of the stairs, his wand extended before him. His lips pursed in nervous opposition, left hand clenched at his side. Harry felt a new wave of pity, this time for the blonde boy before him. He remembered the stricken, panicked expression he had worn when he had tried to kill Dumbledore. He hadn't, as Harry recalled, been able to, or wanted to.

"You're not going anywhere, Potter." Malfoy growled, and Harry noticed that he did not have the same quiver in his voice that he had had when addressing Dumbledore.

"Move aside, Malfoy, I don't have time for this." Harry kept his voice superior, knowing that he was, and knowing that Malfoy would hate that.

"Didn't you hear me?! You're not going any farther!" now there was a new emotion in Malfoy's voice, but he'd heard it before. It was worry.

Malfoy's whole body seemed to shake, and Harry noticed something glint from within his robes. A knife? No, it was more mobile, more fluid. Chains, he had chains handing from his belt.

He plans to chain me up! scoffed the boy-who-lived. And probably to take me to wherever Voldemort really is.

"What are you going to do with those chains, Malfoy?" Harry asked as if he didn't know.

Instead of answering, the Slytherin cast a spell. Harry dodged it, casting one of his own, knocking Malfoy's wand out of his hand. To Harry's great surprise, instead of backing down, or making a mad dash for his wand, Malfoy charged at him, knocking the brunet to the ground.

Harry cursed himself for not being more alert, especially when he realized that his wand had skidded across the floor, out of reach. He tried to grab for it, but it was a useless endeavor, and in the process, found that one of his wrists had been bound in the chain Malfoy now held in his wand hand. Harry cursed again.

Harry lifted his leg, and kneed Malfoy in the stomach, rolling around so that he was straddling the smaller (though not by much) boy. He wrenched the chain out of his hands, and punched him square in the nose. Blood began to gush out, but Malfoy continued to fight, swinging both fists with gusto. Harry put out his chained hand to deflect the blows, but only succeeded in getting the other manacle around the blonde's wrist.

When the blows paused, Harry slammed Malfoy's shoulders to the ground, getting ready for the next the next round of punches, only to find that Malfoy wasn't fighting back at all. Instead, the young death eater was staring in horror at his newly manacled arm.

"Fuck!" he cried "Potter, do you have any idea what you've done?! These can't be removed!"

Harry just stared. He couldn't possibly be telling the truth. Something like this couldn't possibly happen. But it had. His left hand was chained to Malfoy's right and try as he might, he could not detach himself.

"Fuck!" Malfoy cursed again. Harry's sentiments exactly.

There was a pause in which neither of them said anything, only staring wide eyed at each other.

"I…can't apparate." Malfoy finally said in horror.

In a split second decision, Harry tugged Malfoy to his feet by the chain that connected them. He grabbed his wand from the ground and ran outside, dragging the still stunned Malfoy behind him.

"What-What are you doing Potter?!" Malfoy seemed enraged, but Harry barely noticed.

"Hermione! Ron!" he called "we're leaving!"

Without a second thought, the group of friends and family who had accompanied him joined at the portkey point, and with a swishing sound, they had gone.

…

…

"This is not good"

"Hermione, I was hoping that you could…"

"This is not good!"

"I'll do what I can, Harry, but this is quite…"

"This is NOT good!"

"Shouldn't there be a key or something?"

"THIS IS NOT GOOD!"

"Okay, Ron, we get the message!" Hermione turned to him in anger.

A small group had converged in the kitchen. Hermione, Ron, and the chained together Harry and Draco, were accompanied by Lupin, Tonks, Neville, Luna, Ginny, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

"Well, what are we supposed to do then, if you're so smart?!" Ron shouted, "We can't just leave Harry chained to that…that thing!"

"I have no intention of simply leaving Harry chained to him, Ron!" Hermione exclaimed. "But I also have no idea how to separate them. I mean, if there is a key, I would have no idea how to…"

"There is no key." Malfoy said dully.

The whole group turned to face him. This was a new development. He hadn't spoken, and had barely moved, sense they'd arrived at Number 12.

"What do you mean there's no key?" Harry asked wearily.

"What I mean," the blonde was now indignant, "is that they weren't made to ever be taken off."

"And you meant to chain Harry with them!" Ron exclaimed, furious.

"Yes." Malfoy's half laden eyes dared Ron to do something about it.

"Why you mother fu-"

"Ronald!" Mrs. Weasley jumped in before he could continue, and Mr. Weasley just sighed.

"This needs to be resolved now" he announced "or we need a quick fix until morning."

"He's right" Lupin stepped in, "we're all tired, and unless it can be resolved within the hour, we're not doing any good staying up any later. Harry, you said Mr. Malfoy's wand is still at the manor?"

"Yes." Harry answered curtly, not yet ready for anyone to be showing Malfoy enough respect to put the 'Mr' in front of his name.

"Good, then this spell will work."

Lupin extended his wand and waved it over Malfoy's body muttering the words "terminovis vires"

"I hadn't thought of that." Hermione said slowly.

"wha-what did you do to me?!" Malfoy demanded, padding his hands over his body in a panic.

"I've restricted your wandless magic, which includes creating truly powerful potions"

Malfoy looked as if his Mother had just slapped him. Harry could never recall Malfoy looking that way before. Then again, Malfoy had always seemed to him to be his equal magically, after all they were in the same grade, and got about equal grades. The only thing he was truly better at would be potions, and with that removed.

"So what are you saying?" Harry asked "that I stay chained to him? That he sleeps in my bed? With me?"

"Out of the question!" Ron exclaimed.

"I've got to agree Remus" Mrs. Weasley commented

"What else to you propose we do, Molly?" Mr. Weasley asked kindly.

"well, I'm not sure…" she began, "but surely this isn't safe."

"Harry can take care of himself, Molly" Lupin said softly, and Mrs. Weasley scoffed.

"While he's asleep?!"

"He'll leave his door open."

"Doors can be closed!"

"We'll take the door off the hinges."

Mrs. Weasley seemed to consider this.

"Alright, yes." She said, nodding "I'll agree to it then."

"What?!" Ron, who had been nodding at everything his mother had said, was suddenly appalled.

"He can't use magic, Ron" Hermione reasoned.

"He doesn't need magic to hold a knife to Harry's throat!"

"We'll keep him away from sharp, pointy objects, Ron, don't worry" Remus said in a serious voice, but with an amused smile.

"Harry, listen to reason, please!" Ron begged of his best friend.

"No, they're right, Ron." He said softly. "it's late, we're all tired, and I can take care of myself."

"Harry! What if he steals your wand, what then?!"

"Before I go to bed I'll put it up somewhere he couldn't reach it without waking me"

Everyone but Ron seemed to find this perfectly acceptable.

And so, Harry led his boyhood rival up to his room, the one he now had all to himself sense the twins had moved out. Once inside, he took the door off the hinges, and levitated it to the wall on the other side of the hallway, and turned to Malfoy. But before he could say anything, the blonde spoke up.

"I don't like sleeping in my clothes, Potter" he said through clenched teeth.

Harry shrugged, and proceeded to grab hold of Malfoy's right sleeve, and rip it length wise from shoulder to cuff.

"What the fuck did you do that for?!"

"So you could get your shirt off." Harry smirked, saying perspicuus and removing his own shirt unscathed.

"You bastard" Malfoy glared.

The two crawled into bed rather awkwardly, half naked and full of hatred. They lay like that for quite some time, both on their backs, arms rigid at their sides, without the slightest bit of sleep touching their eyes. Then Malfoy spoke up.

"I know what you want, and you can't have it" He said darkly.

"Oh, and just what is it I want, Malfoy?"

"Me."

"Excuse me?" Harry turned on his side, eyebrow raised in disbelief, "why the hell would I want you?"

"They all want me." Malfoy returned flatly "I've got everything, and I can do everything. All through school they all wanted me. All the death eaters want me. Hell, even the Dark Lord wants me, and he's had me."

Harry stared at him wide eyed, but he continued.

"There's nothing I won't do, and they all know it" he turned to Harry emphatically "but before I do anything for you, I want some assurances."

"What kind of assurances?" He'd meant to say that he didn't want anything from him. He'd meant to call him a whore, or call him a pouf, or call him crazy, or anything, but he hadn't.

"Protection" he said calmly, and all Harry could think of was condoms. His cheeks flushed.

"P-protection?"

"From them" Malfoy gestured to the now dark hallway, "and from the death eaters, who'll want me back. Give me protection, and I'll be your bitch."