Hey guys! Here is the final part of my first-ever threeshot. Expect nothing more until after November, because I'm writing a novel for Nanowrimo! I don't own Harry Potter, as you guessed by now.

Harry and Draco missed first period. Instead, Harry listened as Draco recounted every horror he'd been through since Voldemort's rise to power. He described the treatment of Narcissa and himself after Lucius' mess-up. He explained about his task - how Voldemort had demanded for Draco to kill Dumbledore. Harry listened patiently, ignoring the bell signaling first lesson when it came. He guessed Hermione and Ron would realize what had happened, and cover for him. And even if they didn't he thought grimly, hearing what Draco had to say was more important than facing a furious McGonagall.

"He's going to kill me, Harry." said Draco quietly, his voice shaking with terror.

"We can protect you." said Harry. "Dumbledore can. You, and your mother too. You don't have to do this, Draco." Draco grabbed his hand; Harry was unable to ignore the way his stomach did backflips at their touch. But this wasn't a time for romance, so he did his best.

"Take me to him." said Draco. Harry stood up, his hand still firmly clasping Draco's, and pulled him through Hogwarts to Dumbledore's office.

"Toffee elcairs." said Harry, smiling at the mingled shock and confusion on Draco's face that Harry knew the password. They stepped on the rotating spiral staircase and in a matter of seconds Harry was knocking on the door, and Dumbledore was calling;

"Enter."

If Dumbledore was surprised to see Draco so close together, hands clasped, looking happy in each other's company, he didn't show it. In fact, Harry got the distinct impression Dumbledore had already worked out what Harry felt about the other boy - possibly before even Harry knew himself.

"Draco needs protection." said Harry straight away. Dumbledore stood and flicked his wand - two chairs appeared in front of the table, and he gestured for them to sit. They did so, Draco looking nervously at Dumbledore. Dumbledore placed a crystal bottle of water in front of them, along with two equally exquisite glasses.

"Mr Malfoy, does this have to do with your plan to kill me?" asked Dumbledore pleasantly. Harry had discovered so much that day that the knowledge that Dumbledore was already aware of Draco's situation was unsurprising. Draco just looked too scared to care.

"Yes." Draco mumbled.

"Excellent." he said. "This is very easily resolved." Harry looked questioningly at Dumbledore, who gave nothing away. "Do you want to kill me?"

"No." Draco's face was unreadable. His hands were balled into fists in his lap, and he was fidgeting slightly. Harry poured him a glass of water, and one for himself for good measure. Neither of them touched it.

Dumbledore nodded. "I thought as much. You did the right thing, skipping classes today, Harry."

Harry opened his mouth to respond but not before Draco suddenly hissed, "He's going to kill me."

"Oh, I don't think so." said Dumbledore airily.

"He's going to kill me. And hurt my mother." he repeated, his voice cracking. Harry grabbed one of his fisted hands, massaging it open. But Draco wasn't paying attention. "How can you be so calm?"

"Lord Voldemort doesn't scare me, Draco."

"Yeah, well he scares the shit out of me!" Draco yelled. He yanked his hand from Harry's and pulled back the sleeve of his robe. There, branded black and searing on his forearm, was the Dark Mark. Harry had been expecting it since he had followed Draco into Borkin and Burkes, but the expectation was much easer to handle than the reality. Lord Voldemort's mark, cruelly twisted into the skin of his boyfriend, tainting him, teasing him. A constant reminder that his will was not his own.

"Ah." said Dumbledore, taking in the image in front of him. "I see."

"It's a curse." said Draco shakily. "His way of forcing us to remain in his circle eternally."

"Not eternally. That mark could end up being a valuable weapon in taking down Lord Voldemort." Dumbledore said gravely. "Look at Professor Sn-"

"Snape's not on your side." spat Draco. "He's been offering me help all year."

"Snape has been acting on my orders." said Dumbledore. "Did it not occur to you that I could have requested he gave you guidance?"

"You're wrong. He made an unbreakable vow with my mother. If I don't kill you, he will."

The stunned silence that followed this statement only lasted a few moments. Harry took a sip from the glass of water he had poured himself, barely aware of what he was doing, his eyes trained on Dumbledore, attempting to guess his reaction. Then: "I too have suffered injuries at the hand of Lord Voldemort." said Dumbledore evenly. He shook back his robes so his blackened right hand was visible. "Mine gives me a limited amount of life. Severus has been kind enough to offer his services to end my time on earth before Voldemort's curse speeds and I die in an infinitely more painful manner."

Neither Harry nor Draco made any response to this information. Harry's head was spinning, and he felt faint. He knew Dumbledore was not a young man, but the idea of him dying seemed bizarre. He couldn't process the information properly, and the world was becoming haze, the voices of Dumbledore and Draco becoming muffled in his ears.

"Harry?" he heard Draco say. "What's wrong with him?" he asked. Harry didn't hear Dumbledore's reply. Fog was clouding his vision. The last thing he saw was a pale, anxious face staring at him through the fog, before it went black.

Harry awoke to a bright white room. He felt the clean sheets under him and knew instinctively he was in the hospital wing. He rubbed his eyes and reached for his glasses, feeling much calmer when the room was put into focus, and he knew for certain where he was. Looking around, he spotted a familiar blond sitting with his head in his hands on the chair by the bed. "What happened?" Harry asked. "What made me black out?"

Draco's face was tear-stained and he looked dreadful. "It was me." he said hoarsely. "That water you drank was contaminated... because... because I put the poison in that crystal jug."

"I'm not dead." said Harry, puzzled.

"Dumbledore said it was only a trace. He got the jug as a gift from Rosmerta - she'd used it to poison the mead, and it hadn't been washed." Draco had told Harry how he was responsible for Ron almost being poisoned, too. The story had been told amongst many apologies and swears he didn't really want anyone to be hurt.

"I forgive you." said Harry immediately. "You couldn't have known that would happen." Draco smiled weakly, but Harry could tell he still felt guilty, so he changed tact. "Honestly, Draco, I thought you were better than this! You're not even capable of killing the boy who lived! What kind of rubbish Slytherin are you?"

"Oh, if I wanted to kill you, Potter, I could."

"Six years, Malfoy. You didn't even show up to our first duel."
Draco was smirking. Possibly the reference to their first year bought back memories of a happier time. "I still can't believe you and Weasley were foolish enough to show up to that."

"I can't believe you and Goyle were chicken enough not to!" laughed Harry. Draco started to laugh too, and soon the two of them were in hysterics. It was quite out of character, and Harry was sure Draco's recent inner turmoil had something to do with his drunk happiness. Draco grinned and flicked Harry's bedhead, and Harry messed up his blond locks. The two of them burst into fresh laughter, Harry holding onto Draco for support.

"Blimey, Harry. Here we are, ready to mourn at your bedside, and you're busy feeling up Draco Malfoy." Ron's red head appeared around the door, accompanied by Hermione's bushy brown one. Harry and Draco jumped away from each other at the comment, and Ron chuckled. "Hey, what you two do in private is none of my business." He held up his hands in mock-surrender, and despite being mortified and Ron's comment, Harry laughed. Ron looked pleased.

"Are you ok, Harry?" asked Hermione.

"I'm great, fit to go if only Madame Pomfrey would hurry up and appear to discharge me."

"Just in time for dinner." said Hermione cheerfully. "You won't even have to stay overnight!"

"Got to be a record short time for you." said Draco, "Don't you spend more time in the hospital wing than you do in classes?"

"At least I don't milk my illnesses for all they're worth!" shot Harry, miming holding his arm and groaning. Hermione looked shocked at their fiery exchange, but when Draco laughed, her face softened. It was just playful banter. Flirtatious, even, Harry realized.

"When you're as handsome as I am, you need to over-act when you're ill, because you don't have the gruesome look that gets you taken seriously." said Draco, preening. His comment earned him a face full of pillow from Harry.

"You wish." he said.

"You know it's true." countered Draco, winking. Harry felt a familiar heat on his cheeks and shot a glance at Ron, who looked half-amused, half-grossed out by how Harry and Draco were acting. Madame Pomfrey chose that moment to bustle in.

"Good, you're awake." she said. "Now, I just need to take your temperature, and you'll be free to go."

"He was poisoned, what good'll taking his temperature do?" pointed out Ron. Madame Pompfry ignored him, shoving the magically enhanced thermometer into Harry's mouth without so much as an "open wide".

"You're good." she said, pulling out the thermometer and peering at. "You can leave." Harry flung the sheets off him - Madame Pomfrey had not removed his school uniform, thankfully - and got up out of the bed. He wobbled slightly and Draco automatically grabbed his arm to steady him. When Harry was steady, he did not let go.

"We've still got our date tonight." Draco said softly, squeezing Harry's hand. Hermione looked away pointedly, and Ron didn't notice. Harry grinned at Draco, who raised his eyebrows. "Excited, Potter?"

Harry didn't even try to hide it. "Of course." he said. He may have been imagining it, but Harry thought he saw a faint blush on Draco's cheeks. This only broadened his grin.

They let their hands drop as they approached the great hall for dinner. Although Harry was yet to attempt to hide his relationship with Draco, most of the school was still unaware that there was anything but malice between the two of them. There were a few people who knew, or suspected, or had worked it out - but to Harry's knowledge, they were not the majority.

When they entered, close together but hands no longer entwined, Harry was expecting go go unnoticed; but as it happened, their entrance was greeted by excited murmurs. Several people - Harry suspected one of them to to be Dennis Creevy, but it was too far away to tell - even got out of their seats, craning their necks to get a glimpse of the two of them.

"Um, this might be a just a hunch," said Ron, looking around the great hall, "But I think that people might have found out about you two."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Obviously." she said.

Harry was used to being stared at, but Draco was looking a bit apprehensive. He glanced at the Slytherin table. "I bet Pansy told everyone who would listen." he murmured. "I didn't mean to tell her, she's a gossip. But I was telling Blaise, Crabbe and Golye and she overheard."

"They'd find out eventually." said Harry. "If not through gossip then through Rita Skeeter." Draco nodded, his lips pursed. Harry was stuck by a sudden inspiration, and muttered quietly so only Draco could hear, "Let's just help them see the rumours are true, eh?" He pressed his lips to Draco's cheek, enjoying the way his stomach started doing backflips and their proximity. He pulled away and saw the mild surprise in Draco's eyes.

"Well that was... different." he whispered. Harry could feel the eyes of all of the students, and some of the staff, on them.

"See you after dinner, Draco." he said loudly, just as much for their audience's ears than their own. Draco smirked.

"Counting on it." he said, winking. He paused for a split second to run his hand over the spot Harry had kissed him, and sauntered over to the Slytherin table. Harry, Hermione and Ron all sat down at the Gyffindor table. Within seconds, they were bombarded with questions. Harry answered them with ease - his feelings for Draco were clear in his head, and he had no wish to hide them.

"Do you think you might love him?" asked Ginny. Her eyes were wide and Harry though she was coping very well. Hermione had explained to him about Ginny, and her feelings towards him; and although Harry couldn't return them, he accepted they were there. He had planned to shield Ginny from how obviously he preferred Draco - at least to begin with - but she had asked the question, and he'd answer it.

"Yes." he said simply. "I very much think that."