Chapter 1 – A spark

A jet of green light shot from the end of Snape's wand and hit Dumbledore squarely in the chest. Harry's scream of horror never left him; silent and unmoving, he was forced to watch as Dumbledore was blasted into the air. For a split second he seemed to hang suspended beneath the shining skull, and then he fell slowly backwards, like a great rag doll, over the battlements and out of sight. Harry felt as though he, too, were hurtling through space; it had not happened…it could not have happened…

"Out of here, quickly," said Snape. Greyback turned and rushed down the stairs with a triumphant snarl, along with the siblings. Draco, however, did not move. He was clenching his fists tightly around the two wands, Dumbledore's wand still in his left hand. His whole body was quivering and his eyes, big with fear and shock, were locked on the spot where Dumbledore had been just seconds ago.

"Draco, now!" roared Snape and reached out to grab him. Then there was a quick motion in Draco and all of sudden he had both of the wands aimed directly at Snape's heart.

"How dare you-"

"Keep your filthy hands off me!" howled Draco, and Harry had never heard his voice sound like that; broken, devastated, yet with an anger and determination that caused even Snape to flinch slightly. His eyes locked with Draco's and for several seconds they glared at each other, Draco's breathing coming in ragged gasps but the wands never trembled, not this time.

"Suit yourself." Snape then gritted between his teeth and the long, black cloak swept around his feet as he turned to the doorway. He came to a halt; his head turned back to face Draco, and his eyes were burning, the smile on his face wicked, insane.

"Perhaps you'd like to know," he said with a voice dripping of malice, "that Lucius and Narcissa were already eradicated when you woke up this morning. The Dark Lord finally grew tired of their failures. Just a reminder." And in a heartbeat, Snape had disappeared through the door and down the stairs.

Draco fell then; his knees, too weak to support him anymore, gave in and he fell to the cold stone floor without a sound. It was only now that Harry discovered that the spell had lifted and he could move again; what held him back now was only his horror and shock. He flung the Invisibility Cloak off his shoulders and had his wand out even before Draco could draw a breath. He looked at Harry as if he was a ghost.


Harry swiftly pointed his wand at him, though he didn't think that Draco would be of any trouble to him now.

"Don't move! Stay right where you are!" he shouted.

"I c-couldn't… I didn't w-want…" Draco stammered. In the brief moment that their eyes met, Harry saw tears stain the slytherin's pale cheeks, adding another strain to the crescendo of pain and anger that wanted to rip up his chest as he ran blindly down the stairs, chasing Snape.


Draco did as he was told. As morning rose over Hogwarts, the first morning of many without Dumbledore, Lupin and Tonks came up the stairs to the tower and found him. Draco hadn't moved from the spot where Harry left him, as if he had been petrified.

The deaths of the Malfoy's were confirmed some hours later by aurors in contact with the Order. Lucius' and Narcissa's bodies had been found lying side by side on the floor in the entrance hall of Malfoy Manor, seeming peacefully asleep if it hadn't been for the dark bruises around their throats. Supposedly they had defied Voldemort in a way for him to punish them once and for all. Exactly how it had happened no one knew for sure. All that was known was that the Dark Mark on Lucius' forearm seemed to have expanded in large strings that had spread out onto his hand and turned it black. Even in death Lucius' hand was still clasped tightly around his own throat. In spite of all the feelings that crammed his mind, Harry's stomach cringed slightly when Tonks told him this. He wondered if it was possible for Voldemort to kill off his own Death Eaters simply by willing it, using the Dark Mark. Strangely enough, this only made Harry hate him more and deepened his determination to put an end to all of this.


Dumbledore's funeral was over and the mourners were returning home. The castle grounds bathed in golden rays of evening sun, and it was tauntingly beautiful. Harry walked in silence behind Ron and Hermione back towards the castle. Ron had his arm around Hermione's back and she leaned her head against his shoulder. Harry knew that Ginny was somewhere in the crowd ahead of them, and just thinking of her and what he had been forced to do to her made his heart sink. He sighed and cast a final glance backwards to the lake and the white tomb. The area was almost completely deserted by now and Hagrid was disposing the benches. By the tomb stood a lonely figure with white-blond hair, his head bent. Harry knew at once that it was Draco. He hadn't seen him around much until now, though Hermione had reported seeing him asleep in the library. No one seemed to pay him much attention anymore, neither the staff nor the students. The slytherins avoided him as if he was infected with some disease. He had betrayed Snape, the Death Eaters and with them everyone who might have wanted to care for him now. Something stirred in Harry's chest as he watched him, something that might have been empathy. Draco had no one. He was all alone.


"I'm taking him with us."

"What?! Are you out of your bloody mind?!"

"Ron, calm down..."

"Hermione, you can't honestly say you agree with this!?"

"No, I don't agree with him, in fact I think it's a very bad idea..."

"He'll kill us in our sleep!"

"No, he won't. He can't kill anyone."

"You can't know that! Have you completely forgotten everything that slimy git put us through over the years!?"



"He can be of use to us."

"Right, some friendly daggers in our backs is just what we need right now! He's a false, arrogant, evil-"

"He's an orphan now, because of Voldemort. Just like me."

"... mental. Bloody mental..."


"Let him go, Hermione. He'll come back. Or so I hope."

"Oh, Harry... why?"

"It's my heart, Hermione. I can't explain it, I really can't… Maybe it's pity. Maybe I am out of my mind."


A moth brushed past Harry's cheek; the brief touch made him flinch. He sighed inwardly. He seemed to be on the edge constantly now and he wondered how long he would have to remain that way. When it would end… The warm July-night was full of scent and sound, crickets chirping and birds rustling around in the trees. The grove behind the Burrow where he and Draco stood was dark, and Harry saw the bright lights from the garden like little dots between the trees. Cheerful music came in streaks up to them, carried by the wind. Harry could still taste his birthday cake. Yet, he wasn't able to let any warm feelings embrace him. He had troublesome things on his mind. Draco had been staring at the ground for some time now. He was leaning against a tree trunk with his arms crossed, and through the darkness Harry still saw his demure expression and the deep frown on his forehead. He was digging mechanically in the moss with the tip of his shoe.

"Look, if you'd rather be on the run alone I'm not going to stop you. I'm just saying…" Harry started but Draco interrupted him by lifting his head abruptly and giving him a stern look.

"It's not that, Potter, and you bloody well know it." he muttered and Harry thought that he saw his cheeks redden slightly. Draco looked so much like a child now, frustrated, suspicious… afraid. Harry realized that this had to do with something that lay very close to Draco; his pride.

"What is it, then?"

Draco lowered his gaze briefly; then met Harry's eyes again.

"A Malfoy…" Draco paused to draw in a long breath, as if his voice almost failed him. "A Malfoy does not ask for help."

Harry tried to keep his voice as neutral as he could.

"It's all right. You didn't, remember?"


Harry's scar was tingling. The pain was faint; so faint that, for a moment, he thought he had only imagined it. Yet he felt it, and it troubled him. He was lying in one of the lower bunk beds, staring at the ceiling, his fingers lazily tangling themselves in the chain of slytherin's locket that rested around his neck. The autumn night around the tent was peaceful, and all that was heard was the crackling of the fire and soft snores that came from the other couple of beds. But Harry just couldn't relax. It wasn't only his scar that bothered him. His body was curiously tense; he almost felt a little angry, though he had no idea why. As it was, he just couldn't stand to lie there anymore. He gave a little sigh and flung his legs over the edge of the bed. When he rose, the locket escaped from behind the hem of his t-shirt, where he had tucked it, bouncing slightly against his chest. Harry frowned and tucked it back. He could swear that the thing had a will of its own sometimes. The light inside the tent was dim, and the other beds stood in the darkest corner, on the opposite side of the tent. However, when Harry shot a glance there, he noticed that Hermione had climbed down from her bed and now lay next to Ron. Their fingers where still entwined though they were deeply asleep. Seeing this somehow made Harry feel very lonely. But he wasn't alone now, was he?

Draco sat by the fireplace in the mouth of the tent, in the frayed, cherry-colored lounger. His back was crouched; his elbows resting on his knees as he stared into the fire, apparently lost in deep thought. As he stepped closer, Harry noticed that Draco was wearing his cloak, despite the fact that the tent was quite warm.

"Hey." Harry said softly so not to startle him. Draco looked up, his eyes big and his face very pale indeed. Harry wondered if it was just the light that made it so.

"Hey…" Draco said, and then turned his gaze towards the fire again.

Harry hesitated for a short second, then called a pillow from his bed with a flick of his wand, placed it by the fire on the opposite side of Draco and parked his behind on it. He held out his hands on front the fire and rubbed them together, though he really wasn't that cold. In the corner of his eye he watched Draco, as he had been doing for weeks now. Harry had promised Ron when they left to keep a waking eye on Draco at all times, a promise he had kept. They didn't talk much, naturally, but then again, Draco never talked much at all nowadays. After he had helped them acquire slytherin's locket at the Ministry, however, Ron's harsh attitude towards him had softened somewhat. Harry felt the weight of the locket around his neck as he remembered. Draco's regards with Umbridge had still been high enough for her to never suspect anything until it had been too late. Surely, they could have done it without the help of Draco's acting skills, but certainly not that easily. Harry raised his gaze to Draco again. He sat there, silent and unmoving. Whatever good looks he possessed were faded now. He had lost weight over the summer; his eyes were hollow, his hair was a bushy, unattended mess. He looked like a hunted animal. And he was so pale, even for a Malfoy, pale enough to make Harry wonder if he was unwell.

"You can go and get some sleep now, if you like." Harry said while placing another log in the fire.

"Can't sleep." Draco said, still not looking at Harry. Harry shrugged slightly and withdrew an additional small log from the basket next to him.

For a few moments they didn't speak. Then, something caught Harry's eye. The fire had suddenly made a reflection in something shiny that lay on the floor next to Draco's right shoe. Harry tilted his head and saw that it was a knife; the handle was in silver adorned with the letter M, but there was something odd about it. Harry suddenly grasped that the edge of the blade was covered in blood. His insides jolted.

"Why is there blood on your knife?"

Draco closed his eyes but didn't answer. Realization dawned in Harry, and his gaze darted to Draco's left arm. The sleeve of his grey shirt had a big, damp stain on it. Without even thinking, Harry rushed to his feet. As he bent down before Draco, he saw that there was a puddle of blood on the floor under his arm. Harry grabbed Draco's hand and jerked up his sleeve quite forcefully. What he saw made his stomach cringe. Draco had been trying to carve his Dark Mark off; it was hardly recognizable anymore through the clutter of scarlet, bleeding cuts that screamed against Draco's pale skin.

"Are you crazy?!" Harry hissed while he fumbled around in his pocket for his wand. "Jeez!"

Harry had never been good at healing charms; that was always Hermione's specialty, and he couldn't bother to wake her now. Instead, he conjured a roll of bandages and started to bind Draco's arm with it. Draco sat in silence and let Harry do it, his eyes still closed as if in shame. Harry frowned and shook his head while he worked. How long had Draco been doing this before Harry interrupted him? And then a thought struck him that blew his mind. Was it this that had caused the tingling in his scar? Could Voldemort feel if anything was done to the Dark Marks? Harry secured the bandage and tried to clear up the bloodstain on Draco's shirt. The result was only half good though. Harry slumped to the floor, surprising himself when he noticed that he was a little shaky.

"That is a very stupid thing to do." Harry said, his voice a little harsher than he'd intended. "He might feel it, you know. I feel it."

Draco finally opened his eyes and looked at Harry. His eyes were so full of guilt that Harry was taken aback.

"To think, all of the times I taunted you about your parents…" Draco said, his voice remarkably steady, "… that it would end up happening to me as well."

Oh, Harry wanted so much to say something. He wanted to say something about how it didn't matter now, that at least now they had something in common… but it all sounded so wrong, and in the end he just sat there with his mouth open. Draco wanted to avert his gaze again, but Harry placed his hand on one of his jeans-covered knees and gave it a firm squeeze. Draco stiffened at first, as if Harry had burned him, then their eyes locked again. Harry was still trying to figure out something to say when a jolt of heat flashed from his neck down into the rest of his body.

He was warm; he was suddenly so warm that his head was spinning. He felt a little like he had after sharing a bottle of fire-whiskey with the twins on his birthday. The tension in his body was back, stronger now, particularly down the lower part, heated, aching, and now he recognized it. It was arousal; it had been arousal all along. It was inappropriate; he needed to leave, to run straight out into the woods if that was what it took, but he just couldn't remain here now. Not next to…Draco. Astounded, he stared into the other boy's eyes, unable to look away. Slytherin's locket burned against his skin, but he only felt it dimly, as if in a dream. Draco stared in surprise as Harry's hand traveled from his knee up his thigh…

"What are you-" Draco mouthed, but then Harry's hand reached his groin and the rest of his words drowned in a shocked gasp.

Harry's thoughts weren't his own anymore; something was very wrong but god, it felt so right and he couldn't stop. He rubbed the bulge between Draco's legs, much like he used to do to himself. Draco seemed to try his hardest not to react, but soon Harry felt him harden under his touch. Suddenly, Draco grasped his arm and hauled him up into the lounger, on top of him. He wasn't that pale now; his cheeks were flushed and his hands feverish as he tore at Harry's clothing, pulling him closer. Harry tasted the delicate skin at Draco's throat; he moaned but Harry caught his mouth with his own and they were kissing. Harry didn't know if this was how kissing should be like, but it was nothing like kissing Ginny. With her, he always felt the need to hold back, to be careful. But Draco… he wanted to devour him, mark him, kiss him black and blue. He tasted blood but wasn't sure which one of them who bled; the coppery taste only seeming to arouse them both more. It was more like a scuffle than a snog, ravishing the mouth that had taunted him all these years, making the slytherin gasp for air… It was intoxicating. Harry was sucking at Draco's skin, tangling his fingers in the unruly, blond strands and pressing their chests together, feeling Draco's heart race. It had nothing to do with love, nothing to do with pity. It was only lust, a violent lust that was alien to Harry, but he was caught in it like a leaf in a storm.

Draco's hands had found Harry's burning skin under the t-shirt and he yanked it off with a frustrated grunt. Slytherin's locket leapt onto Harry's heaving chest, glowing as hot iron. Draco's eyes widened when he saw it, and both of their actions came to a halt as Draco let one of his fingers trail along the chain. When he looked up at Harry again, his eyes had something in them that Harry hadn't seen there since before Dumbledore's death. It was malevolence. Draco dragged his fingers down Harry's sides, grasped his hips tight and grinded his own upwards hard. Harry groaned out loud as their erections stroked together.

"Virgin…" Draco sneered, and before Harry even had the time to breathe Draco had lunged forward and captured one of his nipples with his mouth.

It was a wonder that Harry even remembered how to cast a silencing charm while Draco rolled his nipple between his lips, darting out his tongue to lap at it, as if he had never done anything else. Harry's wand fell to the floor with a clatter, abandoned. Now free to moan, Harry did, pressing Draco against him. Draco sucked harder, scraping the stiffened nipple slightly with his teeth. Harry never knew that that could feel so good, and together with Draco's slowly rocking hips, the hardness that stroked his own, he already felt a wet spot of precum staining his underwear. It was too much… he wouldn't have it. Harry grabbed the fastening of Draco's cloak and tore it apart. Draco's mouth formed a smirk against his skin as he eased out of it. Harry slid from Draco's lap to the floor, and in one single motion, he jerked Draco's jeans and underwear down to his knees. Draco's smirk vanished. Now between Draco's thighs, Harry looked at the slytherin's engorged, throbbing cock… just inches from his face, the head reddened and glistening with arousal. As he leant in, his eyes darted back up to Draco's face. He found nothing but desperate want there, and he only vaguely noticed that Draco's lower lip was bleeding. His breaths were trembling and Harry relished every one of them as he moistened his own lips.

Never minding any strategy, Harry pried Draco's thighs apart with his hands, and took the other boy's length into his mouth as far as he could. He never had to wonder whether he was doing it right or not; the way Draco moaned and tangled his fingers in Harry's hair told him everything. The hard cock in his mouth tasted salty, foreign but not unpleasant, and all Harry cared about was the moans and strangled hisses his actions drew from Draco. He swirled his tongue along the underside, alternating the pace in which the throbbing organ slid into his mouth. Being in complete control of the slytherin's pleasure aroused Harry very much indeed. With one hand, Harry undid his trousers and released his aching member. Grabbing it sent a bolt of pleasure through him so intense that he whimpered around Draco's cock. He had never been this hard; he was so horny it hurt. He forced himself to abandon his own cock and proceeded to suck the one in his mouth faster, harder, so deep that he nearly choked on it. Then, Draco's breath hitched in his throat; Harry felt his cock twitch and a single drop of something salty disappeared into his mouth. At the same time, Draco's fists in his hair tightened and he pushed Harry away with a half-choked groan. Harry fell back but neatly caught himself with his palms against the floor. He smirked and licked his lips slowly while Draco fought hard to regain control of himself, his chest heaving and his eyes on Harry as if he couldn't really acknowledge that Harry had made him feel this way.

"Now who's the virgin?" Harry said very calmly.

Was there a smirk on Draco's lips to match his own? Harry couldn't tell. Draco had dove upon him almost instantly, pinning him to the floor. His mouth was on Harry's and Harry's hands were inside his shirt, stroking his heated flesh, digging his nails into Draco's back as he pressed him closer. Draco tore his mouth away from his lips and sucked down hard in the pit of Harry's throat. Harry groaned and grasped his shoulders; somehow, he was now on top, and oh god, his trousers had slid down in the middle of it all and his slick cock met with Draco's. Both boys groaned against each other's skin and Draco clutched Harry's waist with his hands as Harry began to rock against him, aligning their throbbing erections, stroking them together hard. Slytherin's locket dug into Harry's bare chest from the pressure and he caught himself wondering if it would cause a burn. Harry wanted to explode from the pleasures the friction gave him; every vein in his body was on fire, but he needed more… He needed something else, something that intensified the ache in his groin as his mind touched it…

"Ah-ngh, for Merlin's sake Potter, fuck me for real before I-… ah!" Draco snarled under him and Harry thought that he would cum there and then just by hearing such a thing. Through the mess of sweat, panting breaths and partial clothed limbs, he met Draco's eyes.

Draco's eyes were burning with arousal, his temples damp and cheeks flushed. Harry felt his rock hard cock against his hip, and the thought of fucking him, actual fucking, made him want to whimper with need. But for the first time that night, Harry wasn't sure of what the next step was.

"How?" Harry muttered, dragging down his trousers completely so that his suddenly nervous hands would have something to do.

The smirk that Harry was so familiar with darkened the slytherin's face once more.

"Use your head." he sneered.

Harry frowned for about a second before he understood what Draco meant. Oh. A laugh played in the corner of Draco's mouth, but when Harry met his eyes anew it died out. Draco had dared him; it was a challenge; and as soon as Harry's clouded mind grasped that, everything happened very fast.

Harry pulled Draco's shirt away, revealing his naked chest, and started to ravish it; easing up just a little bit to give Draco room to pull down his jeans. His aching cock wept at the loss of contact, and with Draco's stiff nipple still in his mouth, Harry dipped his fingers in the copious amount of fluid that covered their erections, smearing it out between Draco's legs. Draco moaned, and when Harry forced his legs apart, his hands were suddenly on Harry's hips, urging him on. The fire in the fireplace next to them had faded somewhat and Harry barely saw where he was going. But he felt every inch of Draco's burning flesh on his own, how his slick cock slid down Draco's groin, a resistance – and then he was inside of him, buried to the hilt in the velvet tightness. Draco had pulled Harry into him and hissed against Harry's shoulder, his fingers digging into Harry's sides. And Harry was beside himself; he had never felt like this before, his pelvis seemed to work by its own accord as he rocked into Draco's body, his cock hitting deeper into him with every smooth, hot stroke. Draco lifted his legs to rest over Harry's elbows and his skin was burning… Harry was pinning Draco to the floor, panting against his collarbone, and he was hurting him for sure the way his thrusts rocked his body back and forth… but the other boy only moaned louder as the pace quickened and Harry felt his hand between their stomachs, grabbing his own hardness and starting to stroke it violently. Slytherin's locket slapped against their chests by the motion, and in the midst of his mind-blowing arousal Harry lifted his head and locked his gaze with Draco's.

The slytherin's face was tense; the silver in his eyes ablaze and he was biting his abused lower lip as he glared into Harry. Suddenly, there was a strangled, guttural sound in his throat; his eyes fell shut and Harry felt the first hot spurt of his orgasm against his abdomen. That was the end of Harry. The rhythmical contractions of Draco's tightness pulled him in, Draco was swearing and jacking his hips upwards, still cumming, but Harry was blind and deaf; he felt only a violent charge of pleasure transport itself from his thighs to his groin. Harry bit down hard on Draco's skin to stop himself from screaming out loud as he shot burst after burst of hot sperm into him, emptying himself completely… The weakness that drowned every muscle in his body shortly after that was so overwhelming that he only managed to pull half-way out of Draco before he collapsed on top of him.


Harry was awakened some time later, by the first ray of morning sun that found its way through the mouth of the tent. It was not a pleasant awakening. His back was sore; he felt oddly numb but for a wide, black hole that seemed to have taken place in his stomach. A single word rang through his head like a terrifying alarm. Ginny.

As he rose, nearly tripping over his trousers, Draco's close presence became painfully aware to him. The slytherin lay splayed on the wooden floor, still asleep, his face calm. The bandage around his arm made him look very vulnerable. As he cast a glance on the drying cum on Draco's abdomen, everything, every taste, every sound and every feeling they had shared came back to Harry with full force. It distraught him to a proportion that his tired mind seemed to be unable to grasp fully. Slytherin's locket lay abandoned close to Draco's shoulder, gleaming wickedly in the weak light. A deep wrinkle settled between Harry's brows.

They had to destroy it.